Anyway, we're back and here it is!
Ironically, I Feel The Need To Hug It Out
3 months ago
Thursday, December 17, 2009
HIGHLIGHT VIDEO TIME!
One thing I love as much as watching Landon play football is making his annual highlight video. I was deprived of this pleasure last year. I mean, I guess I could have looped a clip of him breaking his ankle over and over, but that idea didn't really hold up.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Here's a funky introduction of how nice I am.....
As some of you know, my lovely bride Dawn and I founded a community service organization for the athletes at our local high school.
As a result, I've found myself spending a lot of time with teenagers. That's something I never thought would happen as I figured I paid my dues on the teenage thing and would mainly interact with the lone teenager under my roof and his assorted friends. However, life throws unexpected (and wonderful) twists and here I am in all my 40+ dorkiness interacting with a great group of kids. Dawn has a natural knack for it, while it's something I've had to grow into. One of the main lessons about enjoying teens is to set fire to your expectations and enjoy the ride. Once you remove the control lobe from your brain (a daily exercise for a control freak like me) it's pretty exhilarating.
One example of this was our spring break trip to Mississippi last April. We did a service trip to Gulfport, MS to help with a house teardown. One ritual in our van was that some of the kids would ask Dawn to rap every day on our way back to camp. I don't know how this started, but it was purely for comic value. My wife has many great qualities, but rapping is not one of them. She would make up words, repeat words for the sake of rhyming and generally deliver a freestyle rap that was like nails on a chalkboard.
That sets up the most bizarre experience I've had in the recruiting process to date. On Wednesday we were visiting one of the most formidable football programs in the entire country. The day was culminated with a visit with Coach X. Coach X is so high profile that even those of you who don't know a football from a watermelon would remark that you are sure that you've seen him before if you saw him out in public. In tow, we had a family friend who is also being recruited by this school and one of Landon's friends who was along for the ride. Somehow, and I can't for the life of me remember or imagine how this happened, someone briefly said something to Dawn about her rapping for the kids.
Coach X was immediately fascinated with this. He wanted to hear it. We tried to shake it off; he immediately would steer the subject back to Dawn and her MC skills. I tried to change the subject, he persisted and asked for a rap. Next thing I know I'm in a huge office decorated with championship trophies watching my wife rap for a guy paid over 2 million dollars a year. The rap was about his dogs.
Later, I walked silently out of the football facility and told my bride that nothing in this wild recruiting process can or will be that bizarre. It's like something that I'd dream after a night of bad mexican food.
I'm in the process of developing thrash metal, rap, and punk songs for all of the schools we will be visiting in the future.
Word to your mother.........
-Macker
PS- RECRUITNIKS, THE SCHOOL WAS NOT IN VIRGINIA SO GUESS AWAY........
Sunday, July 26, 2009
FEAR THE TURTLE!!!!
Greetings dear readers (reader? greetings thin air? hello?)
Anyway, my relatively anonymous blog affords the opportunity to scream an exciting piece of news out loud.
My absence of posts was no doubt a huge daily letdown to my litany of fans (fan? hello? is this thing on?). The lame, but honest, explanation for that is as follows:
1) Time: I'm interim department chair now and they actually expect me to work and act like a grownup. The taxpayers of Virginia are starting to get their money's worth, but it's really cutting back on mindless loitering on the internet.
2) Topics: My two main topics on this blog have been Landon's football recruiting and running. As many of you faithful followers (follower? is that an echo?) know, I've been up and down on the running thing to the point where I enjoy it but am not really motivated to write about it. As for Landon, I freakin' love talking about recruiting and am no doubt boring the crap out of 75% of Rockingham County. The problem is now that we've entered in to the real meat of the recruiting phase, we have to have something of a poker face. There are too many recruitniks out there in cyberspace. An honest appraisal of Landon's visits, what he liked, and especially what he didn't like is liable to give attention we really don't need and lead to potential misunderstandings with coaching staffs. As crazy as it seems that they may find this site, stranger things have happened and people (recruitniks, not coaches) are already misinterpreting and twisting things about Landon.
So, even though I know who he likes, who he doesn't and what type of school he's looking for, I can't say much. What I can tell ALL of you is that Landon just got his first offer! I got an e-mail reply message (hear that NCAA? He was replying to me and didn't initiate contact prior to September 1st as stipulated in paragraph 5, clause zz in your 1,000 page recruiting regulations) from a UMd. coach that said that they would love for Landon to be part of their future and that an offer would be coming to us the first week of September (see NCAA? We did not receive a written offer prior to September 1 of his junior year as stipulated in your harumph harumph blah blah blah).
Actually, this is apparently his second offer. When I called Landon's coach to tell him the news, I was informed that Virginia Tech has also stated the same thing, but went through Landon's coach instead of us. This was, of course, because they didn't want to initiate contact (NCAA, we and these schools are as white as the driven snow so far). The coach also stated that he felt Landon had three offers because [university name withdrawn] said they were going to offer Landon after making sure that he was healthy and doing well after a couple of games. I'm still counting two. To count [university name withdrawn] at this point would be like someone saying they are engaged because their fiance stated that they would be asking for their hand in marriage provided the next few dates go well.
Anyway, I'm real proud of Landon and his accomplishments to date. The next few months should be really interesting. So interesting that I paradoxically can't write much here. I mean, I can't even write about the new BMW that I've been promised by an SEC school (kidding NCAA, kidding).
PS- THIS OFFER DOES NOT MEAN THAT LANDON IS OR IS NOT GOING TO ANY OF THESE SCHOOLS. I just needed to say that in the off chance that recruitniks or coaches actually see this (hello?)
Monday, June 22, 2009
Summer Book Report, Volume 2
Today's installment is one of my absolute faves. I had heard about this book early on in my running journey. However, I kept putting off reading it, in part due to the fact that copies are almost impossible to find because it's out of print. When I read it, I was mesmerized. Today, I bring you:
Once a Runner, by John L. Parker, Jr.
What it's about: Collegiate runner Quentin Cassidy goes full out to see how good of a miler he can be. Mentored by Olympian Bruce Denton, he moves away from everything and everyone to live, breathe, sleep and eat running. His breakout performance comes in a meet at his University that he has to run in disguise, since he's been kicked off the team. This book answers the age-old question asked by relatives and friends of any dedicated runner; namely "Why". The book takes that question, spits on it and asks "Why not?".
What I learned: This book confirmed the paradoxical secret of distance running that I thought I might have discovered on my way to my pedestrian achievements. The secret is that there is no secret. They even state this in the book. The "secret" is hours on the pavement, trails, tracks, etc. The "secret" is not the latest workout in Runner's World. The "secret" is not the latest piece of gear. The "secret" is the same secret that Lydiard and other coaches discovered in the middle of the 20th Century. Run more miles, use that as a base to do some decent workouts and then kick butt.
If this book was a band, it would be: Led freakin' Zepellin baby. Like Led Zep, this book came out in the '70s. Sometimes when I hear Led Zepellin I'm floored that the music is so good and wonder why I don't listen to them more. Same with the book. I've read it three times in the last three years and wonder each time why I don't read it more.
How's the writing? Gotta be brutally honest here. Imagine a talented writer. Now take that writer and put them back in 12th grade English or an early writing course in college. They're still full of angst and in the course of trying to be the best writer they can, they go a little over the top with their descriptions. That's my best assessment of the writing in this book. If you are in to the running, it won't matter because the insights made on training and racing are simply incredible. If that part goes over your head, however it is rough sledding.
After you read this: ....you might be in danger of burning your collection of Runner's World mags. You also might be in danger of getting rid of any and every excuse for not being the runner you want to be.
Final note: Last I checked, Once a Runner was still out of circulation but there were plans to put out a new edition by a publishing company. I suggest you wait for this instead of ordering it used for 100+ dollars. It's good, but not THAT good!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Cycle of futility
My latest training cycle has come to an end, and it's ended much like my last two training cycles. In short, I create a plan, target a race and then go back to absolutely despising running after I get the mileage up. Stepping back and taking stock has led me to the conclusion that I am, in fact, done. I figured that I was wrung out and done with racing for a long time after the 2007 Richmond Marathon. These cycles of futility have only confirmed that for me.
Here's what I do know:
1) I love running. I continue to do it and like being in shape. I'm going to continue doing this.
2) I can't race. I loved racing because I loved the process of setting PR's. Therefore, I cannot line up for a race and know that I'll be minutes slower than the absolute best I could be. A good friend of mine who ran in college told me that he can't bring himself to race despite the fact that he's in great shape for someone pushing 50. In his words "Why would I go out of my way to break 18 for a 5K"? While he is a much more talented runner than I, I am finally fully empathetic with this.
3) I realized that I slayed the dragons that I strained after for 10 years and have no more that I want to conquer. Actually, relative to many people, these were only semi-large lizards instead of dragons. I always wanted to break 40 for a 10k and qualify for Boston in the marathon. I've done both on more than one occasion now and also participated in the wonderful celebration of running that is the Boston Marathon. Despite trying to make other goals, they pale in comparison and fail to resonate with me enough to push past the considerable inconvenience.
I'm a fan on road racing and track and field. I learned so much about myself from this recreational pursuit. Most of this ambling, rambling blog will continue to be devoted to this wonderful sport. However, the personal aspects will be fond recollections of the past. The present will be devoted to other people's pursuits of their dragons.
See some of you on the roads!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Summer Book Report, Volume 1
Eugene Peterson, famous Christian scholar and author, once said, “you are what you read”. I think there’s a lot to that. TV shows and movies can change your mood for an hour, but books can change the way you view something for the rest of your life. Given that heavy introduction, this will be the first installment of running books that have influenced me. Today’s book report
Running with the Buffaloes, by Chris Lear
What it’s about: Former runner and aspiring writer follows the Colorado University Cross-Country team for a season. This team features Adam Goucher, a US Olympian, but also includes a lot of solid, but not spectacular runners that post some remarkable performances.
What I learned: I’ll never forget when I first read this book. I was still living in Michigan, but was flying home for an alumni award from my old department at JMU. I started the book on the plane and couldn’t put it down. I remember that book more than anything else about the trip. I was out of shape and was occasionally running for fitness at the time. Every now and again I promised myself that I’d train for this race or that race and my efforts would ultimately fizzle. I was staying at my parents and went for a run the first chance I got.
This is a chronicle of a team that pushes the envelope. Common worries about injury and burnout are tossed aside as they push themselves and each other to see how good they can become. It helped me rid myself of the myth that weekend hacks like me can’t run high mileage. It transformed my training and resulted in achieving my long-time, albeit pedestrian, goals like breaking 40 in a 10k and qualifying for the Boston Marathon.
If this book was a band, it would be: An ‘80s punk band like Minor Threat. The training and racing of the Buffs is old-school, smart, full of integrity and doesn’t heed warnings from traditionalists. It also works.
How’s the writing?: Not great. It’s a well-written diary, not much more. Like many running books, it doesn’t have to be that great. The inspiration and the passion is in the topic. Non-runners will generally not like the book as a result, although sports enthusiasts will likely see themes that resonate.
After you read this: You’ll go for a run. Then you’ll go for one the next day and the next and the next and………………………………..
Running with the Buffaloes, by Chris Lear
What it’s about: Former runner and aspiring writer follows the Colorado University Cross-Country team for a season. This team features Adam Goucher, a US Olympian, but also includes a lot of solid, but not spectacular runners that post some remarkable performances.
What I learned: I’ll never forget when I first read this book. I was still living in Michigan, but was flying home for an alumni award from my old department at JMU. I started the book on the plane and couldn’t put it down. I remember that book more than anything else about the trip. I was out of shape and was occasionally running for fitness at the time. Every now and again I promised myself that I’d train for this race or that race and my efforts would ultimately fizzle. I was staying at my parents and went for a run the first chance I got.
This is a chronicle of a team that pushes the envelope. Common worries about injury and burnout are tossed aside as they push themselves and each other to see how good they can become. It helped me rid myself of the myth that weekend hacks like me can’t run high mileage. It transformed my training and resulted in achieving my long-time, albeit pedestrian, goals like breaking 40 in a 10k and qualifying for the Boston Marathon.
If this book was a band, it would be: An ‘80s punk band like Minor Threat. The training and racing of the Buffs is old-school, smart, full of integrity and doesn’t heed warnings from traditionalists. It also works.
How’s the writing?: Not great. It’s a well-written diary, not much more. Like many running books, it doesn’t have to be that great. The inspiration and the passion is in the topic. Non-runners will generally not like the book as a result, although sports enthusiasts will likely see themes that resonate.
After you read this: You’ll go for a run. Then you’ll go for one the next day and the next and the next and………………………………..
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Thought for the day.....
Every day on my walk to work, I cut across the front lawn of the "Mahatma Gandhi Center for Global Nonviolence". I harbor a small fantasy that one day someone from that Center will come out and scream at me to get off their lawn.
Monday, May 11, 2009
I DON'T EVEN DRIVE THAT FAR.............
Usually, if people are passionate about a certain hobby or topic, they love talking about it to anyone and everyone. I remember when one of my friends was getting married. He was super excited. That was good. He was so excited that he actually talked to me about their china pattern. That was bad.
I have, over the years, discovered an exception to this rule. Namely, I dislike talking about running with non-runners. Running is actually one of my favorite topics, if the person has any idea of what they’re talking about. However, if the person is like 99% of planet earth and doesn’t know much about running; I’d really rather move on to the weather, whatever interests them, china patterns……..anything. I don’t mean that in a condescending way, its just that people don’t get it so I’d rather not bother. I don’t get the trivial details of their hobby either.
Anyhow, as a coping mechanism, I thought this would be an excellent place to go over common things I hear from people when they want to talk about running. I’ll preface these by saying that I generally think the people who try to talk running with me are being very nice and are obviously trying to focus the topic on something that they think I’d like to talk about. Here’s where the miscommunication begins and it continues with these little gems.
1) How far is it?
What they say: The conversation will turn around to running (despite my best attempts) and I’ll be asked about some upcoming race. If it’s a marathon (and this is another reason for me to stop marathons) the question will be followed up with “How far is it?”
What I say: I simply reply that it’s 26 miles. I don’t like to give any ammo for the conversation continuing longer than it has to so I keep answers simple. No 26.2 because then I could easily end up explaining the 0.2.
What I’m thinking: In this deal I see it coming a mile away, so I’m just concentrating on not appearing annoyed. I usually pull it off. For the record, a marathon is 26.2 miles, a half-marathon is half that, and an ultra-marathon is anything above that. However, the main thing that’s going through my head is that I’m hoping against hope that we don’t move on to gem #2. My bet is that 99.7% of the time; we do.
2) THAT joke.
What they say: See above. They ask about the length of the marathon, I give the reply and cringe because I know they’re going to say “I don’t even drive that far!!!!”
What I say: I mainly smile and pray that someone else will come in on the conversation and they can start talking for a while. Of course, this can backfire in that you can end up having double the “fun”.
What I’m thinking: Wow, just wow. Are there really 10,000 people that think I haven’t heard THAT joke? Or are there 10,000 people in the U.S. that have independently come up with that joke and shared it with me as an original? If you know the original author of that joke, please tell him/her that it’s really kind of clever the first time you hear it so kudos to them. Also please punch them in the face.
3) Knees, knees and more knees.
What they say: Usually a story about how they hurt their knees running, or how a friend did, or both. It can also take the form of a direct warning about how I’m going to hurt my knees and it’s just a matter of time. Sometimes this is an explanation as to why they don’t currently run all the time like they did in high school. Sometimes this is a back-handed way of telling me that running is bad for me.
What I say: I just calmly say that I’ve been pretty fortunate so far.
What I’m thinking: Would it be OK for me to poke someone in their beer belly and warn them about cardiovascular disease? Well, then why is it OK for tubby to turn in to an orthopedic consultant?
4) A comment about my weight.
What they say: This usually comes from someone I know after I’ve gotten out of shape and am no longer at race weight. Basically, they say that I look good and that I was way too thin before. I’ve been told that I was “too thin” or “unhealthy”. This doesn’t happen a lot, but it’s happened.
What I say: When told I was too thin, I replied “too thin to what?” I didn’t reply to the comment about looking unhealthy.
What I’m thinking: This one actually pisses me off more than all the rest, including THAT joke. It’s so ignorant I don’t even know where to start. Someone can be 20 pounds overweight and they’re fine, but don’t dare get to a low bodyfat so that you can run fast. That’s unhealthy.
Again, would it be OK to poke them in their belly and tell them that they’re unhealthy? My wife has told me that she likes the way I look better when I’m not at race weight. She’s entitled to comment and I make sure that I save the skeletal look only for when I’m really trying to bust a good time. Everyone else besides her can bite me.
5) You should run with……..
What they say: Something like “oh, my son/daughter/husband/wife/nephew/neice/brother/sister/friend” runs as well, you should run with them sometime.
What I say: Oh yeah? I always hope that a good “Oh, yeah?” can get me out of this one.
What I’m thinking: The son/daughter/husband/wife/nephew/neice/brother/sister/friend is often one of two categories.
Category A- So slow that I literally cannot physically run with them
Category B- Some stud who I MIGHT be able to run with if I’m doing a tempo run and they are taking it VERY easy.
6) RUN FORREST RUN!!!
What they say: Actually this is only peripherally related to this topic, but I had to include it because I hear it so much. People will yell “Run, Forrest run” at you while you’re running. They’re usually in a car or somewhere out of the way.
What I say: Absolutely nothing. I used to smile, like “Hey, clever joke”, but I can’t pretend any more.
What I’m thinking: When did that freaking movie even come out? 1991? ….and you still think that’s clever? As an aside, I heard about a guy who used to say “sit, fat-arse, sit” when people gave him the Forrest Gump line. I wouldn’t use it, but that’s quite a rejoinder.
7) How far did/do you run?
What they say: Usually happens when I’m getting back from a run and talk to somebody or if someone says they saw me running. They’ll ask me how far I ran or how far I usually run.
What I say: It’s easy if they asked how far I just ran. I can quickly just smile and tell them. It’s a little tricky if I ran far as it could lead to THAT joke, but otherwise I’m cool. If they ask how far I usually run, I stumble all over myself. I know they don’t want to hear running geek minutiae about long days, rest days, tempo runs, and track workouts and about how there often isn’t a “typical” day. A lot of times, I’ll just tell them what my weekly mileage is and leave it at that.
What I’m thinking: This one is actually real harmless. Sometimes I’m worried we’re headed for THAT joke. Sometimes I do think about how to relate how much I “typically” run, but for the most part this doesn’t really lead anywhere special and I often appreciate them taking an interest.
Of course, based on this last statement, my ambivalence suggest that there’s the tiny chance that I’M the one with the problem, not the nice people asking me about my hobby……….
I have, over the years, discovered an exception to this rule. Namely, I dislike talking about running with non-runners. Running is actually one of my favorite topics, if the person has any idea of what they’re talking about. However, if the person is like 99% of planet earth and doesn’t know much about running; I’d really rather move on to the weather, whatever interests them, china patterns……..anything. I don’t mean that in a condescending way, its just that people don’t get it so I’d rather not bother. I don’t get the trivial details of their hobby either.
Anyhow, as a coping mechanism, I thought this would be an excellent place to go over common things I hear from people when they want to talk about running. I’ll preface these by saying that I generally think the people who try to talk running with me are being very nice and are obviously trying to focus the topic on something that they think I’d like to talk about. Here’s where the miscommunication begins and it continues with these little gems.
1) How far is it?
What they say: The conversation will turn around to running (despite my best attempts) and I’ll be asked about some upcoming race. If it’s a marathon (and this is another reason for me to stop marathons) the question will be followed up with “How far is it?”
What I say: I simply reply that it’s 26 miles. I don’t like to give any ammo for the conversation continuing longer than it has to so I keep answers simple. No 26.2 because then I could easily end up explaining the 0.2.
What I’m thinking: In this deal I see it coming a mile away, so I’m just concentrating on not appearing annoyed. I usually pull it off. For the record, a marathon is 26.2 miles, a half-marathon is half that, and an ultra-marathon is anything above that. However, the main thing that’s going through my head is that I’m hoping against hope that we don’t move on to gem #2. My bet is that 99.7% of the time; we do.
2) THAT joke.
What they say: See above. They ask about the length of the marathon, I give the reply and cringe because I know they’re going to say “I don’t even drive that far!!!!”
What I say: I mainly smile and pray that someone else will come in on the conversation and they can start talking for a while. Of course, this can backfire in that you can end up having double the “fun”.
What I’m thinking: Wow, just wow. Are there really 10,000 people that think I haven’t heard THAT joke? Or are there 10,000 people in the U.S. that have independently come up with that joke and shared it with me as an original? If you know the original author of that joke, please tell him/her that it’s really kind of clever the first time you hear it so kudos to them. Also please punch them in the face.
3) Knees, knees and more knees.
What they say: Usually a story about how they hurt their knees running, or how a friend did, or both. It can also take the form of a direct warning about how I’m going to hurt my knees and it’s just a matter of time. Sometimes this is an explanation as to why they don’t currently run all the time like they did in high school. Sometimes this is a back-handed way of telling me that running is bad for me.
What I say: I just calmly say that I’ve been pretty fortunate so far.
What I’m thinking: Would it be OK for me to poke someone in their beer belly and warn them about cardiovascular disease? Well, then why is it OK for tubby to turn in to an orthopedic consultant?
4) A comment about my weight.
What they say: This usually comes from someone I know after I’ve gotten out of shape and am no longer at race weight. Basically, they say that I look good and that I was way too thin before. I’ve been told that I was “too thin” or “unhealthy”. This doesn’t happen a lot, but it’s happened.
What I say: When told I was too thin, I replied “too thin to what?” I didn’t reply to the comment about looking unhealthy.
What I’m thinking: This one actually pisses me off more than all the rest, including THAT joke. It’s so ignorant I don’t even know where to start. Someone can be 20 pounds overweight and they’re fine, but don’t dare get to a low bodyfat so that you can run fast. That’s unhealthy.
Again, would it be OK to poke them in their belly and tell them that they’re unhealthy? My wife has told me that she likes the way I look better when I’m not at race weight. She’s entitled to comment and I make sure that I save the skeletal look only for when I’m really trying to bust a good time. Everyone else besides her can bite me.
5) You should run with……..
What they say: Something like “oh, my son/daughter/husband/wife/nephew/neice/brother/sister/friend” runs as well, you should run with them sometime.
What I say: Oh yeah? I always hope that a good “Oh, yeah?” can get me out of this one.
What I’m thinking: The son/daughter/husband/wife/nephew/neice/brother/sister/friend is often one of two categories.
Category A- So slow that I literally cannot physically run with them
Category B- Some stud who I MIGHT be able to run with if I’m doing a tempo run and they are taking it VERY easy.
6) RUN FORREST RUN!!!
What they say: Actually this is only peripherally related to this topic, but I had to include it because I hear it so much. People will yell “Run, Forrest run” at you while you’re running. They’re usually in a car or somewhere out of the way.
What I say: Absolutely nothing. I used to smile, like “Hey, clever joke”, but I can’t pretend any more.
What I’m thinking: When did that freaking movie even come out? 1991? ….and you still think that’s clever? As an aside, I heard about a guy who used to say “sit, fat-arse, sit” when people gave him the Forrest Gump line. I wouldn’t use it, but that’s quite a rejoinder.
7) How far did/do you run?
What they say: Usually happens when I’m getting back from a run and talk to somebody or if someone says they saw me running. They’ll ask me how far I ran or how far I usually run.
What I say: It’s easy if they asked how far I just ran. I can quickly just smile and tell them. It’s a little tricky if I ran far as it could lead to THAT joke, but otherwise I’m cool. If they ask how far I usually run, I stumble all over myself. I know they don’t want to hear running geek minutiae about long days, rest days, tempo runs, and track workouts and about how there often isn’t a “typical” day. A lot of times, I’ll just tell them what my weekly mileage is and leave it at that.
What I’m thinking: This one is actually real harmless. Sometimes I’m worried we’re headed for THAT joke. Sometimes I do think about how to relate how much I “typically” run, but for the most part this doesn’t really lead anywhere special and I often appreciate them taking an interest.
Of course, based on this last statement, my ambivalence suggest that there’s the tiny chance that I’M the one with the problem, not the nice people asking me about my hobby……….
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Performances that prove I'm old, Part TWO
It's the early '80s, I'm a spindly teenager in my basement on a Friday night and, unlike the children of parents who actually love them, I don't have cable. In a situation like this, you are forced to sit through whatever video show the local station likes to play at midnight. They all sort of run together for me. I remember a show called "Nightracks" or something like that. It was a loop of Michael Jackson and assorted artists and I was unequivocally not impressed. Somewhere, all the beloved children were getting to see Van Halen on their televisions. Every now and again, though, one of the network shows would show "Urgh! A Music War".
The movie was a compilation of several different punk/alternative/progressive/heydontlabelme/new wave groups performing live. When Urgh! was on, my angst was soothed as these bands were never even on cable. I was on the cutting edge for precisely two hours. Mind you, I was more of a metal kid at that time, but beggars can't be choosers. I remember the performances being very strange and different. One hit wonder Gary Numan (the one hit was "Cars") was shown puttering around on stage in some bizarre device that looked like he borrowed it off the set of the movie "Tron"; all while singing a song that was unintelligible. Wall of Voodoo (speaking of one hit wonders) performed a song that was equally random and pointless. There were punk acts that did the prototype punk performance. X did a pretty good number, and if I recall, the Police and XTC did "So Lonely". However, all of those acts looked like barbershop quartets compared to the Cramps. I'm not a Cramps fan and didn't even become one in my college punk/alternative/progressive/heydontlabelme/new wave phase. However, this performance burned a long-term impression into my brain.
I didn't think it was cool. Cool is not the right word. I didn't like the music, I really didn't like the guy's getup and I really didn't get what the whole thing was about. Regardless, I was transfixed after about three seconds. Watching it again, I have the same reaction. First, there's the appearance of Lux Interior, the lead "singer". I'll start with the pants. He's wearing what appears to be 80's metal spandex pants cut down to the point where they barely cover his junk and give him a repulsive plumbers crack. Somehow, these puppies stay on him while he cavorts around the stage working the microphone.
This brings up point number two. A very prominent part of the act involves him performing acts with the microphone that are probably illegal in many southern states. Was it to get that special sound? Was he just trying to be over the top? Was he just crazy?
I'm landing on the latter. Most punk bands go for anger and noise. When I listened to the Sex Pistols or Minor Threat, their three cords and unintelligible vocals all said the same thing; namely that they were pissed off at the world. What part of the world was not really the point, at least not for a 15 year old without cable. Metal groups had a similar theme, except they slowed it down a notch or 100 so they could tell you about women and booze. New Wave groups just looked like what I thought the anti-social kids at school would look like in 10 years.
The Cramps, however, were just plain batcrap. There's not necessarily anger; they're playing blues riffs. They don't smash or burn anything or go out of their way to spit on the audience. It looks like a mental patient was allowed to share his visions with a large audience; all while the band calmly plays in the background. Not surprisingly, the Cramps once played a gig at a mental hospital. Johnny Cash played prisons; The Cramps played for mental patients that probably didn't know anything about the band or why they were there. There's no statement except you can get paid to be this crazy.
Lux Interior passed away last February. RIP Lux....................you crazy, crazy mutha.
The movie was a compilation of several different punk/alternative/progressive/heydontlabelme/new wave groups performing live. When Urgh! was on, my angst was soothed as these bands were never even on cable. I was on the cutting edge for precisely two hours. Mind you, I was more of a metal kid at that time, but beggars can't be choosers. I remember the performances being very strange and different. One hit wonder Gary Numan (the one hit was "Cars") was shown puttering around on stage in some bizarre device that looked like he borrowed it off the set of the movie "Tron"; all while singing a song that was unintelligible. Wall of Voodoo (speaking of one hit wonders) performed a song that was equally random and pointless. There were punk acts that did the prototype punk performance. X did a pretty good number, and if I recall, the Police and XTC did "So Lonely". However, all of those acts looked like barbershop quartets compared to the Cramps. I'm not a Cramps fan and didn't even become one in my college punk/alternative/progressive/heydontlabelme/new wave phase. However, this performance burned a long-term impression into my brain.
I didn't think it was cool. Cool is not the right word. I didn't like the music, I really didn't like the guy's getup and I really didn't get what the whole thing was about. Regardless, I was transfixed after about three seconds. Watching it again, I have the same reaction. First, there's the appearance of Lux Interior, the lead "singer". I'll start with the pants. He's wearing what appears to be 80's metal spandex pants cut down to the point where they barely cover his junk and give him a repulsive plumbers crack. Somehow, these puppies stay on him while he cavorts around the stage working the microphone.
This brings up point number two. A very prominent part of the act involves him performing acts with the microphone that are probably illegal in many southern states. Was it to get that special sound? Was he just trying to be over the top? Was he just crazy?
I'm landing on the latter. Most punk bands go for anger and noise. When I listened to the Sex Pistols or Minor Threat, their three cords and unintelligible vocals all said the same thing; namely that they were pissed off at the world. What part of the world was not really the point, at least not for a 15 year old without cable. Metal groups had a similar theme, except they slowed it down a notch or 100 so they could tell you about women and booze. New Wave groups just looked like what I thought the anti-social kids at school would look like in 10 years.
The Cramps, however, were just plain batcrap. There's not necessarily anger; they're playing blues riffs. They don't smash or burn anything or go out of their way to spit on the audience. It looks like a mental patient was allowed to share his visions with a large audience; all while the band calmly plays in the background. Not surprisingly, the Cramps once played a gig at a mental hospital. Johnny Cash played prisons; The Cramps played for mental patients that probably didn't know anything about the band or why they were there. There's no statement except you can get paid to be this crazy.
Lux Interior passed away last February. RIP Lux....................you crazy, crazy mutha.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
I'm too old for this.................
Training has started in semi-earnest. Right now, I'm just putting in the miles and building a base. The challenge isn't so much in the intensity or volume of training; that will come later. No, right now the challenge is running when I don't feel like a runner. Compared to times that I'm in shape to race/run I'm 15-20 pounds overweight. Right now, 8 minute pace feels up-tempo and I have to really watch how fast (this is a relative term) I go or I pay for it the next day. Truly humbling and I haven't fought through anything like this for the last 5 years. In short, I feel like I'm starting all over again.
So far, the plan isn't really involved. 7 hours a week of easy running. Next week, I get to add a neuromuscular workout. 10 kilometers on the track alternating 200 meters at 10K race pace and 200 meters of recovery jogging. The idea is to just get the legs used to a quicker turnover. It also gives some nice variety too since all I've been doing is slogging around a couple of times a day so far. The only way to screw it up is to run too fast on the 200 meter reps.
So far, the plan isn't really involved. 7 hours a week of easy running. Next week, I get to add a neuromuscular workout. 10 kilometers on the track alternating 200 meters at 10K race pace and 200 meters of recovery jogging. The idea is to just get the legs used to a quicker turnover. It also gives some nice variety too since all I've been doing is slogging around a couple of times a day so far. The only way to screw it up is to run too fast on the 200 meter reps.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Performances that prove I'm old, Part ONE
Michael Stipe had hair, you couldn't understand the lyrics, and they could walk down the street without anyone knowing who they were.
To kick off your weekend, I give you early 80's REM
To kick off your weekend, I give you early 80's REM
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Training plan (check), OCD (check)
Well, I celebrated my newfound vigor for training with a walk down memory lane. Specifically, I ran when I shouldn't, while knowing I shouldn't. I'm all geeked up w/ the new training goal and then immediately got the crud that's been going around. I felt a little better in the afternoon and it was a gorgeous day here in the valley. Surely, a slow 6 miler wouldn't hurt. Wrong. I WAS feeling better and now I have aches, a sore throat and a fever (I think). Makes me wonder how bad the run will be tomorrow!
Monday, March 16, 2009
NERD ALERT!
So, I finally decided to crap or get off the dryer (this is from a story about my brother's friend Monds. I may share it some day). I need to either get going for a fall race or become Mr Hobby Jogger for a year. Neither are bad options, I just have been debating and soul-searching as to which I wanted to do. One complicating factor in this is that I am not yet mature enough to do a race for fun. I go in to a race trying to either set a PR or trying to get a time that indicates I'm on track for setting a PR later. This is not exactly a healthy way to go about pursuing your hobby, but it's been a fact for over a decade now so I doubt it will change. As evidence of this, my sister once asked me if I wanted to come up and do a 5k that she was doing with her husband. Instead of saying "Sure, what a great family experience. I'll ask Dawn if she'd like to run as well"; I asked her two very specific and important questions:
*-Is the course certified? I don't want to set a PR and find out that the course was short. Even worse, I don't want some slow time because some schmuck can't measure 3.1 miles.
*-Is it hilly? I don't like hilly courses. My times are way off.
She didn't even reply back to me. I don't blame her. In her mind I'm probably the guy that comes to a pick-up game of touch football with cleats and a mouthpiece. I think I'm this way largely because I race to set new physical limits for myself. If I'm not doing that, I can recreate the rest of the race experience by running around my neighborhood and then eating a bagel afterwards while playing loud music. I can even fish out some old medals from races I've forgotten and have a fake awards ceremony (this is a good way to spend a Saturday morning in the 'burg, but I digress).
Anyway, after deciding that I was going to race this fall, I decided on the Army Ten Miler. The choice here also reveals some unhealthy mentality. I want revenge. In the 2007 Army Ten Miler I was very fit, feeling good and clocked a 67:30; well short of my target 65. It was also 90 degrees that day, but that didn't stop me from getting ticked. I have exacted revenge on the Charlottesville 10-miler course before and it is, in fact, pretty sweet. So, as much as one can get even with 10 miles of pavement winding through our nation's capital, that's my program.
Now to the geek part. I was getting excited about the prospect of training for this and exacting revenge on pavement. Then, I really got excited when I committed my program to spreadsheet.
Yep, I have my program on two pages of excel. The training phases are color coded. I won't bore you with the rest of the details, but there are times when I find myself excited about something that would be a boring class assignment to a lot of other people. I've learned to accept this inner nerd, just like I've learned to accept that I don't like running for running's sake and that I am able to personify and subsequently hate a road race course. Anyway, the good news is that every time I get tired during training, or when I am not able to work up enough hatred of the Army Ten Miler course to get me out the door; I can always look at my beautiful spreadsheet and get invigorated.
*-Is the course certified? I don't want to set a PR and find out that the course was short. Even worse, I don't want some slow time because some schmuck can't measure 3.1 miles.
*-Is it hilly? I don't like hilly courses. My times are way off.
She didn't even reply back to me. I don't blame her. In her mind I'm probably the guy that comes to a pick-up game of touch football with cleats and a mouthpiece. I think I'm this way largely because I race to set new physical limits for myself. If I'm not doing that, I can recreate the rest of the race experience by running around my neighborhood and then eating a bagel afterwards while playing loud music. I can even fish out some old medals from races I've forgotten and have a fake awards ceremony (this is a good way to spend a Saturday morning in the 'burg, but I digress).
Anyway, after deciding that I was going to race this fall, I decided on the Army Ten Miler. The choice here also reveals some unhealthy mentality. I want revenge. In the 2007 Army Ten Miler I was very fit, feeling good and clocked a 67:30; well short of my target 65. It was also 90 degrees that day, but that didn't stop me from getting ticked. I have exacted revenge on the Charlottesville 10-miler course before and it is, in fact, pretty sweet. So, as much as one can get even with 10 miles of pavement winding through our nation's capital, that's my program.
Now to the geek part. I was getting excited about the prospect of training for this and exacting revenge on pavement. Then, I really got excited when I committed my program to spreadsheet.
Yep, I have my program on two pages of excel. The training phases are color coded. I won't bore you with the rest of the details, but there are times when I find myself excited about something that would be a boring class assignment to a lot of other people. I've learned to accept this inner nerd, just like I've learned to accept that I don't like running for running's sake and that I am able to personify and subsequently hate a road race course. Anyway, the good news is that every time I get tired during training, or when I am not able to work up enough hatred of the Army Ten Miler course to get me out the door; I can always look at my beautiful spreadsheet and get invigorated.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Rasslin'
Landon got 5th place in the Regional Wrestling Tournament. This was quite an achievement for his first year in the sport. It also meant that he was one agonizing place away from going to the state tournament. Fifth place guys go as "alternates". This means they have to be ready to wrestle, be at the appropriate weight, all the while knowing that they'll probably not be part of the tournament. So, we all went down to Salem for the weekend knowing that we had probably seen Landon's last match of the year. Nonetheless, we had a great time and saw some really tremendous wrestlers, including the guy who won Landon's weight class. Thankfully this kid will be graduated when Landon takes his shot next year. He was an absolute beast.
I could go on and on about the insights I gained on wrestling, the life lessons on display by these talented kids. I could do that, but I'm short on time and need to share the best line of the weekend. That line was delivered by a waitress at Ruby Tuesdays. After all Harrisonburg wrestlers were finished for the tourney, we took the guys out for some much deserved face-stuffing. She was asking the coach about who we were, etc. When Coach Dickerson related that this was a wrestling team and he had coached them for a few years, she chose an interesting area of inquiry regarding Mike's daily interaction with a room full of sweaty teenage boys. That area was specifically their funk........in her words:
"What's that smell like? It must be some awful combination of AXE body spray and B.O."
Well summarized Ruby Tuesday lady, well summarized. Intellectually, physically and certainly aromatically; teenage boys can indeed be reduced to a combination of AXE and B.O.
I could go on and on about the insights I gained on wrestling, the life lessons on display by these talented kids. I could do that, but I'm short on time and need to share the best line of the weekend. That line was delivered by a waitress at Ruby Tuesdays. After all Harrisonburg wrestlers were finished for the tourney, we took the guys out for some much deserved face-stuffing. She was asking the coach about who we were, etc. When Coach Dickerson related that this was a wrestling team and he had coached them for a few years, she chose an interesting area of inquiry regarding Mike's daily interaction with a room full of sweaty teenage boys. That area was specifically their funk........in her words:
"What's that smell like? It must be some awful combination of AXE body spray and B.O."
Well summarized Ruby Tuesday lady, well summarized. Intellectually, physically and certainly aromatically; teenage boys can indeed be reduced to a combination of AXE and B.O.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Interview Time
My friend Beth sent these to me. If you'd like to be "interviewed" just follow the rules at the end.
1. What do you think about when you run?
A whole bunch of stuff. The good and the bad of everything that's in my soul, mind and heart come out during a run. That's one of the reasons I like it. For example, I'll pray a lot on a run. It's one of the things that can get me to talking to God in an authentic way. When I'm home and taking time out to pray, I can easily get in to something formulaic. I don't say "thou", but it's close. On the other end of the spectrum, I might find myself thinking about something or someone that's ticked me off and get amazed as my mind wanders how angry I can get. Sometimes I just have a song going through my head. I'm pretty random.
2. Have you ever hit a wall while running? If so, describe.
Yes, I've hit the wall in precisely 6 out of my 8 marathons. It sucks, I hate it.
3. What is one regret that you have?
Well, I really like where I'm at right now, so from that standpoint there are no regrets. I will say that it would have been neat to have a relationship with God earlier in life. I'm not talking about being mad because I didn't go to Young Life Camp, Church, or Campus Crusade for Christ meetings. I just mean that over the last 10 years I've tried to understand Jesus more and have allowed Him to work on me. In the process, I've been able to love people a lot more. I am still WAYYYYY short of where I could be, but I see progress. I have to think that would have been nice to experience earlier in life and then maybe I would have hurt less and helped more.
On a less theological note, I harbor a small regret that I didn't run in high school. Cool sport and I would have like to have seen what I could do if I devoted the amount of time to running that I did to baseball when I was a young punk. On the other hand, I might have got tired of it and I'd be 300 pounds now.
4. If you could do anything and there was no chance you would fail, what would it be?
Playing the lottery? I really don't know how to answer this one. I always thought that it would be cool to write, but I think I fantasize more about the imaginary lifestyle that I think goes with it. I imagine getting a lot of bucks for cranking out a few pages every day, which I could bust out in an hour over an afternoon coffee. I could run alot, hang out and work over Guitar Hero like it's my little beeyotch. I doubt that's accurate.
5. What is something or someone you miss most from your childhood?
I miss the excitement and wonder of childhood. When you're a kid you go to the pool and you can stay all day because you're endlessly fascinated with the thrill of getting wet and splashing around. You can spend hours on your skateboard practicing tricks with your buddies. You can go to a baseball game and be entertained simply because the left fielder can throw the ball twice as far as you can during warmups. Now I go to the pool and get bored if I don't have a book with me. All going to the ballpark does is make me think how much ticket prices have increased and how overrated the left fielder is. Oh, and freakin' forget about the skateboard.
To play along:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. ( I get to pick the questions).
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
1. What do you think about when you run?
A whole bunch of stuff. The good and the bad of everything that's in my soul, mind and heart come out during a run. That's one of the reasons I like it. For example, I'll pray a lot on a run. It's one of the things that can get me to talking to God in an authentic way. When I'm home and taking time out to pray, I can easily get in to something formulaic. I don't say "thou", but it's close. On the other end of the spectrum, I might find myself thinking about something or someone that's ticked me off and get amazed as my mind wanders how angry I can get. Sometimes I just have a song going through my head. I'm pretty random.
2. Have you ever hit a wall while running? If so, describe.
Yes, I've hit the wall in precisely 6 out of my 8 marathons. It sucks, I hate it.
3. What is one regret that you have?
Well, I really like where I'm at right now, so from that standpoint there are no regrets. I will say that it would have been neat to have a relationship with God earlier in life. I'm not talking about being mad because I didn't go to Young Life Camp, Church, or Campus Crusade for Christ meetings. I just mean that over the last 10 years I've tried to understand Jesus more and have allowed Him to work on me. In the process, I've been able to love people a lot more. I am still WAYYYYY short of where I could be, but I see progress. I have to think that would have been nice to experience earlier in life and then maybe I would have hurt less and helped more.
On a less theological note, I harbor a small regret that I didn't run in high school. Cool sport and I would have like to have seen what I could do if I devoted the amount of time to running that I did to baseball when I was a young punk. On the other hand, I might have got tired of it and I'd be 300 pounds now.
4. If you could do anything and there was no chance you would fail, what would it be?
Playing the lottery? I really don't know how to answer this one. I always thought that it would be cool to write, but I think I fantasize more about the imaginary lifestyle that I think goes with it. I imagine getting a lot of bucks for cranking out a few pages every day, which I could bust out in an hour over an afternoon coffee. I could run alot, hang out and work over Guitar Hero like it's my little beeyotch. I doubt that's accurate.
5. What is something or someone you miss most from your childhood?
I miss the excitement and wonder of childhood. When you're a kid you go to the pool and you can stay all day because you're endlessly fascinated with the thrill of getting wet and splashing around. You can spend hours on your skateboard practicing tricks with your buddies. You can go to a baseball game and be entertained simply because the left fielder can throw the ball twice as far as you can during warmups. Now I go to the pool and get bored if I don't have a book with me. All going to the ballpark does is make me think how much ticket prices have increased and how overrated the left fielder is. Oh, and freakin' forget about the skateboard.
To play along:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. ( I get to pick the questions).
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Rejoice, we conquer.
Those are the alleged last words of Pheidippides right after he reached Athens with news of the victory in Marathon. It's doubtful that this story is true, but it's a great sentiment that encompasses marathon victory. Of course, legend also has it that he died right afterward.
I was reading a friend's blog that she started about her quest to qualify for the Boston Marathon. By the way, it's really good and can be found heeyah:
http://twentysixpointtwoormore.blogspot.com/
Anyway, a friend of hers asked her to name her favorite race ever. That got me thinking that I'd never written a race report about my favorite race. After Boston 2006, I started making race reports after important races. They included some running geek stuff, some personal insight stuff, and some miscellaneous stuff. I'd usually share them with friends and/or post them on the Running Times forum. However, I never thought about doing a report on my hands-down all-time favorite race.
That's a photo of me after the 2004 Grand Rapids Marathon. Landon is hugging me and I am actually crying tears of disbelief and joy. As much as I love running, that's the only time that a good race brought tears. My emotional reaction was due to the fact that I had just accomplished something that I thought was impossible. Like most people in life, I've set a few goals and achieved them. Getting my doctorate was a tough goal, but I never thought of it as impossible. Same with previous athletic goals. However, qualifying for Boston was different. Qualifying for Boston was something that I thought was never going to happen. At the instant this photo was taken, it was the first time in my life that I'd ever achieved the impossible. It might also be the last because, at least for me, moments like that don't roll around very often.
Of course, I thought qualifying would be well within reach when I ran my first marathon. I was 28 and thought that some good times posted during training were sure signs that my first marathon would be fast. I didn't quite expect a Boston qualifier, but I did expect to be able to manage something around 3:15. What ended up happening is that my friend John and I went out WAYYYYY too fast, paid for it over the last 8 miles and literally limped in with a 3:45 in the 1994 Marine Corps Marathon. The only saving grace is that we beat Oprah, who was also appearing in her first marathon that day. After recovering, I still thought I had a fast marathon in me. I was stupid the first go around, but proper pacing would win the day in my next attempt. That happened one year later. I was partially correct. I paced much better, slowed a little at the end and got a 3:33 in the 1995 Marine Corps Marathon.
This got me to start thinking that I should make my goals a little more reasonable. Breaking 3:30 would be a good start. I set my sites on this goal and trained with my brother and his friend Marvin for the 1996 Marine Corps Marathon. To make an excruciating story short, I felt so bad during this marathon that I quit at the halfway point; already well off pace. I tried to redeem myself one month later in the Philly marathon and clicked yet another 3:45.
After this disappointing effort, I met a few good running friends that pushed me. I could tell I was getting faster so I was eager to see what I'd do in the 1997 Philly marathon. The answer was 3:35. This is when the reality hit that I probably wasn't ever going to break 3:30, much less qualify for Boston. Actually, the qualifying for Boston part was passed off as a pipe dream a couple of years earlier. After this race, I stopped running races for a while. Dawn and I got married and I was starting a new job at Michigan State. My competitive fire was stoked by my new job and I felt like any running goals were ludicrous in the face of all my new responsibilities. I ran a bit, but it was without any immediate performance goals.
Then I read the book "Running with the Buffaloes" by Chris Lear.
Lear spent the 1999 season with the University of Colorado cross country team. It's a remarkable book for many reasons, but what grabbed me was the immense amount of mileage that these kids ran. Before then, I'd subscribed to a "quality over quantity" approach. However, here was a team that was consistently among the best in the country and their "secret" appeared to be simply running more than other teams. It dawned on me that every training cycle I had gone through I had only changed the quality of my training. I had tried the latest interval workout, tempo run and carbohydrate loading schedule. I had never gone old-school; that is, I had never just put my body through as many miles as possible and come back for more. Fifty miles per week had always been the line that, if crossed, threatened to cause overtraining, injury, and fatigue. Nonetheless, running high mileage was the one thing I hadn't tried.
I began by running an hour a day and just added to that every three weeks. It was far from exciting and glamorous, but I gradually ratcheted past the daunting 50/week mark, on to 70 and was averaging in the 80's for a while by my best estimations. I did add in track workouts and tempo runs, but the cornerstone of the program was miles. Paradoxically, I minimized my long run to a maximum of 2.5 hours a week and probably only ran over 16 miles one time. I just focused on consistently running a lot of miles every day. Some days I'd do it in one big run; some days involved two shorter runs. I remember visualizing that I wanted to become someone who could fall out of bed at 2:00AM and begin running and my body would immediately respond. I don't know when I started to think about qualifying for Boston. It might have been there right from the beginning. I do remember thinking that this mileage thing was working when I broke my 10K personal record by 45 seconds on a hot July day. I had barely touched any interval or track work; yet I easily coasted to a fast (for me) time. By then, I'm pretty sure that I began to think of the Boston Qualifier as possible. At least it wasn't a pipe dream anymore.
By the time the marathon came around I knew I was ready for a big race; I just wasn't sure how big. Charts, tables, and other methods of estimation suggested I could break 3 hours if I had a good day. However, I would take the Boston Qualifying time of 3:15. To make sure I gave the latter my best shot, I started the race with the pace team that was gunning for that specific time.
I remember our first mile was way too fast. Something like 6:45. After that, our pace team leader composed himself and started clicking off 7:20's. We were faster on some, slower on others, but I consistently felt like we were out for a jog. I wasn't getting tired and felt like this was all some big warmup. The miles kept clicking off and I wasn't feeling it. I wasn't taking in carbs other than the gatorade at the aid stations, and I honestly wasn't having much of that. I was a good 7 years older than my last marathon effort, but my legs felt younger. That was the story through mile 18. Then I decided to see what I could really do during the last third of the race. I took off and left the pace team with the pace leader exhorting me to "get going". Adrenaline got me a 6:45 for the next mile and then I began to click off consistent 7 minute miles. I couldn't believe it. I was passing so many people at a point in the race where I was used to being passed. I started to fatigue a little towards the end, but it was nothing like the past. I cruised through the finish line in a 3:10:12. It not only qualified me for Boston, but it would have qualified me even if I were 10 years younger.
I sat down so a volunteer could take my race chip off. It still hadn't dawned on me. I was just happy to get a good time. While I was sitting, Dawn came over and said "We're going to Boston!". I loudly echoed her phrase "We're going to Boston!" and Landon came up behind me and gave me one of his patented bear-hugs. I began crying the aforementioned tears of joy. At that moment in time, the weight of achieving the impossible had just gone from my head to my soul. Not surprisingly, this connection didn't happen until I shared the accomplishment with the people I love the most. Later I found out that I had actually finished 3rd in my age group. I still have that trophy in my office today.
I've run enough since then to realize that 3:10 isn't elite, nor is it even sub-elite. It's just a time that a guy with ordinary athletic ability thought was impossible but achieved one day. A time that many others routinely equal or beat. I might run faster than that one day, or I might not. Regardless, I won't ever feel the sense of awe that I felt; at least not from another race. Between age and experience, I now know too much to think that I'll end up with some other extraordinary running accomplishment that I currently think of as impossible. I'll have to settle for the kind of achievements that we typically get in life, the kind that are attainable, but take work. I thank God for those achievements, but thank Him all the more that I have a picture of achieving the impossible.
I was reading a friend's blog that she started about her quest to qualify for the Boston Marathon. By the way, it's really good and can be found heeyah:
http://twentysixpointtwoormore.blogspot.com/
Anyway, a friend of hers asked her to name her favorite race ever. That got me thinking that I'd never written a race report about my favorite race. After Boston 2006, I started making race reports after important races. They included some running geek stuff, some personal insight stuff, and some miscellaneous stuff. I'd usually share them with friends and/or post them on the Running Times forum. However, I never thought about doing a report on my hands-down all-time favorite race.
That's a photo of me after the 2004 Grand Rapids Marathon. Landon is hugging me and I am actually crying tears of disbelief and joy. As much as I love running, that's the only time that a good race brought tears. My emotional reaction was due to the fact that I had just accomplished something that I thought was impossible. Like most people in life, I've set a few goals and achieved them. Getting my doctorate was a tough goal, but I never thought of it as impossible. Same with previous athletic goals. However, qualifying for Boston was different. Qualifying for Boston was something that I thought was never going to happen. At the instant this photo was taken, it was the first time in my life that I'd ever achieved the impossible. It might also be the last because, at least for me, moments like that don't roll around very often.
Of course, I thought qualifying would be well within reach when I ran my first marathon. I was 28 and thought that some good times posted during training were sure signs that my first marathon would be fast. I didn't quite expect a Boston qualifier, but I did expect to be able to manage something around 3:15. What ended up happening is that my friend John and I went out WAYYYYY too fast, paid for it over the last 8 miles and literally limped in with a 3:45 in the 1994 Marine Corps Marathon. The only saving grace is that we beat Oprah, who was also appearing in her first marathon that day. After recovering, I still thought I had a fast marathon in me. I was stupid the first go around, but proper pacing would win the day in my next attempt. That happened one year later. I was partially correct. I paced much better, slowed a little at the end and got a 3:33 in the 1995 Marine Corps Marathon.
This got me to start thinking that I should make my goals a little more reasonable. Breaking 3:30 would be a good start. I set my sites on this goal and trained with my brother and his friend Marvin for the 1996 Marine Corps Marathon. To make an excruciating story short, I felt so bad during this marathon that I quit at the halfway point; already well off pace. I tried to redeem myself one month later in the Philly marathon and clicked yet another 3:45.
After this disappointing effort, I met a few good running friends that pushed me. I could tell I was getting faster so I was eager to see what I'd do in the 1997 Philly marathon. The answer was 3:35. This is when the reality hit that I probably wasn't ever going to break 3:30, much less qualify for Boston. Actually, the qualifying for Boston part was passed off as a pipe dream a couple of years earlier. After this race, I stopped running races for a while. Dawn and I got married and I was starting a new job at Michigan State. My competitive fire was stoked by my new job and I felt like any running goals were ludicrous in the face of all my new responsibilities. I ran a bit, but it was without any immediate performance goals.
Then I read the book "Running with the Buffaloes" by Chris Lear.
Lear spent the 1999 season with the University of Colorado cross country team. It's a remarkable book for many reasons, but what grabbed me was the immense amount of mileage that these kids ran. Before then, I'd subscribed to a "quality over quantity" approach. However, here was a team that was consistently among the best in the country and their "secret" appeared to be simply running more than other teams. It dawned on me that every training cycle I had gone through I had only changed the quality of my training. I had tried the latest interval workout, tempo run and carbohydrate loading schedule. I had never gone old-school; that is, I had never just put my body through as many miles as possible and come back for more. Fifty miles per week had always been the line that, if crossed, threatened to cause overtraining, injury, and fatigue. Nonetheless, running high mileage was the one thing I hadn't tried.
I began by running an hour a day and just added to that every three weeks. It was far from exciting and glamorous, but I gradually ratcheted past the daunting 50/week mark, on to 70 and was averaging in the 80's for a while by my best estimations. I did add in track workouts and tempo runs, but the cornerstone of the program was miles. Paradoxically, I minimized my long run to a maximum of 2.5 hours a week and probably only ran over 16 miles one time. I just focused on consistently running a lot of miles every day. Some days I'd do it in one big run; some days involved two shorter runs. I remember visualizing that I wanted to become someone who could fall out of bed at 2:00AM and begin running and my body would immediately respond. I don't know when I started to think about qualifying for Boston. It might have been there right from the beginning. I do remember thinking that this mileage thing was working when I broke my 10K personal record by 45 seconds on a hot July day. I had barely touched any interval or track work; yet I easily coasted to a fast (for me) time. By then, I'm pretty sure that I began to think of the Boston Qualifier as possible. At least it wasn't a pipe dream anymore.
By the time the marathon came around I knew I was ready for a big race; I just wasn't sure how big. Charts, tables, and other methods of estimation suggested I could break 3 hours if I had a good day. However, I would take the Boston Qualifying time of 3:15. To make sure I gave the latter my best shot, I started the race with the pace team that was gunning for that specific time.
I remember our first mile was way too fast. Something like 6:45. After that, our pace team leader composed himself and started clicking off 7:20's. We were faster on some, slower on others, but I consistently felt like we were out for a jog. I wasn't getting tired and felt like this was all some big warmup. The miles kept clicking off and I wasn't feeling it. I wasn't taking in carbs other than the gatorade at the aid stations, and I honestly wasn't having much of that. I was a good 7 years older than my last marathon effort, but my legs felt younger. That was the story through mile 18. Then I decided to see what I could really do during the last third of the race. I took off and left the pace team with the pace leader exhorting me to "get going". Adrenaline got me a 6:45 for the next mile and then I began to click off consistent 7 minute miles. I couldn't believe it. I was passing so many people at a point in the race where I was used to being passed. I started to fatigue a little towards the end, but it was nothing like the past. I cruised through the finish line in a 3:10:12. It not only qualified me for Boston, but it would have qualified me even if I were 10 years younger.
I sat down so a volunteer could take my race chip off. It still hadn't dawned on me. I was just happy to get a good time. While I was sitting, Dawn came over and said "We're going to Boston!". I loudly echoed her phrase "We're going to Boston!" and Landon came up behind me and gave me one of his patented bear-hugs. I began crying the aforementioned tears of joy. At that moment in time, the weight of achieving the impossible had just gone from my head to my soul. Not surprisingly, this connection didn't happen until I shared the accomplishment with the people I love the most. Later I found out that I had actually finished 3rd in my age group. I still have that trophy in my office today.
I've run enough since then to realize that 3:10 isn't elite, nor is it even sub-elite. It's just a time that a guy with ordinary athletic ability thought was impossible but achieved one day. A time that many others routinely equal or beat. I might run faster than that one day, or I might not. Regardless, I won't ever feel the sense of awe that I felt; at least not from another race. Between age and experience, I now know too much to think that I'll end up with some other extraordinary running accomplishment that I currently think of as impossible. I'll have to settle for the kind of achievements that we typically get in life, the kind that are attainable, but take work. I thank God for those achievements, but thank Him all the more that I have a picture of achieving the impossible.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Show up for life.
My brother's friend Nate once got a C in swimming while he was at JMU. Nate was actually a really good swimmer but didn't always find his way to the pool at the appointed class time. On seeing his grades, Nate's dad told him about how disappointed he was that Nate didn't "show up for life". I've thought about that phrase and used it a bunch. People talk so much about how you have to buckle down when things get hard, grit your teeth and get after it. I've actually found that all you need to do is show up and do what you are supposed to be doing. It works.
Landon received really bad grades after 7th grade. Instead of popping off and throwing a tantrum like I had done before, I told him to start showing up for life. Specifically, just go to class and do what you are supposed to do. I went on to say that this is especially effective in public schools; where they are amazed and give you awards if you show up for life. I asked him to just turn in all his homework for a year. I promised I wouldn't give him crap about how neat it was, how he should double-check answers, etc. He just needed to turn things in on time that were at least approximations of what he was supposed to do. The result? He's received almost all A's and B's and is now taking mainly honors classes.
Whenever I don't feel like doing some mundane task at work or, more frequently, when I don't feel like lacing them up and running; I show up for life. It's not perfect, it's not a thing of beauty, but I'm there and I'm doing more than I feel like doing. Quite frankly, I'm doing more than most people, which I guess is why showing up for life works. There's always five others who aren't.
Who knows, maybe I'll make this in to a self-help book. I'll go on speaking tours and wow them with this incredibly simple philosophy. At minimum, everyone can be sure that I'll show up.
Landon received really bad grades after 7th grade. Instead of popping off and throwing a tantrum like I had done before, I told him to start showing up for life. Specifically, just go to class and do what you are supposed to do. I went on to say that this is especially effective in public schools; where they are amazed and give you awards if you show up for life. I asked him to just turn in all his homework for a year. I promised I wouldn't give him crap about how neat it was, how he should double-check answers, etc. He just needed to turn things in on time that were at least approximations of what he was supposed to do. The result? He's received almost all A's and B's and is now taking mainly honors classes.
Whenever I don't feel like doing some mundane task at work or, more frequently, when I don't feel like lacing them up and running; I show up for life. It's not perfect, it's not a thing of beauty, but I'm there and I'm doing more than I feel like doing. Quite frankly, I'm doing more than most people, which I guess is why showing up for life works. There's always five others who aren't.
Who knows, maybe I'll make this in to a self-help book. I'll go on speaking tours and wow them with this incredibly simple philosophy. At minimum, everyone can be sure that I'll show up.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
In this corner..................
Landon has officially made weight and is now eligible to compete in his first year of wrestling. To do so, he had to get down to 285 pounds. That's 30 pounds less than his typical weight and 50 pounds less than his weight at this time last year. This has been a cool journey for the entire family and as an exercise science geek/frustrated athlete; I have of course made many observations.
*-It is amazing how much different someone can move with 30 pounds off their butt. He looks amazing, he moves amazing and he can do things he just couldn't before.
*-He has an amazing A.Q. or athlete quotient. By that I mean he can pick stuff up very quick. He's really only been wrestling for a bit over a month but he already has pinned 2 kids and beat another by 15 points in his nine matches.
*-There's no substitute for experience. Two of those other matches were losses to kids that frankly looked a little short and dumpy. However, they were both experienced and knew what they were doing. In a third match he got pinned by a kid that was strong, quick AND knew what he was doing. Humility has been among the good lessons learned by wrestling.
Seeing Landon pay the price to learn and adapt has been inspirational to me. I usually am the one urging him to go the extra mile, to pay the price to be the best he can be. However, his silent but strenuous actions have inspired me to do the same in work, running and life. Sometimes you get the nice payback that your kids teach you something you've been trying to teach them all along.
*-It is amazing how much different someone can move with 30 pounds off their butt. He looks amazing, he moves amazing and he can do things he just couldn't before.
*-He has an amazing A.Q. or athlete quotient. By that I mean he can pick stuff up very quick. He's really only been wrestling for a bit over a month but he already has pinned 2 kids and beat another by 15 points in his nine matches.
*-There's no substitute for experience. Two of those other matches were losses to kids that frankly looked a little short and dumpy. However, they were both experienced and knew what they were doing. In a third match he got pinned by a kid that was strong, quick AND knew what he was doing. Humility has been among the good lessons learned by wrestling.
Seeing Landon pay the price to learn and adapt has been inspirational to me. I usually am the one urging him to go the extra mile, to pay the price to be the best he can be. However, his silent but strenuous actions have inspired me to do the same in work, running and life. Sometimes you get the nice payback that your kids teach you something you've been trying to teach them all along.
Monday, January 5, 2009
There's always one good part of a visit.....
....arriving or leaving. That's something a friend of mine in Michigan told me.
Which brings me to my visit to Orlando. We went down to Orlando for Dawn's family reunion. A good time was had by all and here are some assorted observations.
1) Dawn's family is a high energy molotov-cocktail of a social scene. One evening I swear 3 or 4 conversations were happening among 6 people. I was getting a headache. Nobody is introverted. It's like stepping in to a cage with puppies and two-year olds. They're real cute, but you'll be exhausted before you know it.
2) You still gotta give it up for Disney World. I'm a roller coaster freak and love any ride that threatens to throw my lower intestines through my nose. Disney has none of this, but remains the most amazing place to drop 75 dollars to stand in line all day. We were in a line at 11PM, everyone was tired, but the entire tired, slow line was dancing to the music pumping through the park. The only place on earth you are going to see sober people do that.
3) Fan allegiance is overrated. After getting to Orlando, I remembered that Michigan State was playing Georgia in the Citrus Bowl. I scored three tickets on Stubhub and we had a GREAT time at the game. What was most intriguing is that I was completely neutral during the game. Landon was for Georgia, since they've been sending him recruiting letters, so I was in their corner a bit. However, there was good ole Michigan State. The same Michigan State that paid my salary for 7 years. I used to follow them, go to their games, read about them in the paper and follow their recruiting in the offseason. Now I'm iffy because the other team MIGHT want to give my kid a scholarship. Allegiances die easier than I thought.
4) We don't know everyone in East Lansing. We were looking around for people we thought we might know at the game. Sounds a little silly, but we were somewhat surprised that we didn't know any of the estimated 30,000 people wearing green.
5) My heart almost exploded, but we made it. Right after the bowl game, I pointed the SUV towards Harrisonburg, VA and set out knowing that we were going to drive straight through the night or stop at a cheap hotel. I also figured that we could meet our goal of driving straight through if Dawn took a 2 hour shift so that I could have a power-nap. Didn't happen. I felt great until 3AM when my sleep-deprived brain got me closer to an LSD trip than I'll ever get in my life. At that point, it was a little pointless to get a hotel for 4 hours and Dawn was so out of it, I would never have been able to nap knowing that she was manning the wheel. I then proceeded to jack myself up on every legal stimulant possible. First, I took a "Rockstar" shot, which claims to have 200mg of caffeine plus some other legal uppers. I chased this immediately with a diet Mountain Dew and then dipped enough tobacco to melt my gums away. We got home around 6AM, just in time for said stimulants to begin to wear away and the natural LSD trips to begin again. After stumbling upstairs to my bed, I began to feel heart palpitations. I get these if I have too much caffeine. I nodded off, not so much worried about a heart attack, but whether the heart attack would prevent the sleep I so desperately needed.
Now I'm back, mostly recovered and ready to get back in to a routine. Overall a good trip and I'm especially thankful that we got to catch up with Dawn's family. That's something that doesn't happen near enough. A lot of other stuff happened which may or may not make it's way in to future posts.
Which brings me to my visit to Orlando. We went down to Orlando for Dawn's family reunion. A good time was had by all and here are some assorted observations.
1) Dawn's family is a high energy molotov-cocktail of a social scene. One evening I swear 3 or 4 conversations were happening among 6 people. I was getting a headache. Nobody is introverted. It's like stepping in to a cage with puppies and two-year olds. They're real cute, but you'll be exhausted before you know it.
2) You still gotta give it up for Disney World. I'm a roller coaster freak and love any ride that threatens to throw my lower intestines through my nose. Disney has none of this, but remains the most amazing place to drop 75 dollars to stand in line all day. We were in a line at 11PM, everyone was tired, but the entire tired, slow line was dancing to the music pumping through the park. The only place on earth you are going to see sober people do that.
3) Fan allegiance is overrated. After getting to Orlando, I remembered that Michigan State was playing Georgia in the Citrus Bowl. I scored three tickets on Stubhub and we had a GREAT time at the game. What was most intriguing is that I was completely neutral during the game. Landon was for Georgia, since they've been sending him recruiting letters, so I was in their corner a bit. However, there was good ole Michigan State. The same Michigan State that paid my salary for 7 years. I used to follow them, go to their games, read about them in the paper and follow their recruiting in the offseason. Now I'm iffy because the other team MIGHT want to give my kid a scholarship. Allegiances die easier than I thought.
4) We don't know everyone in East Lansing. We were looking around for people we thought we might know at the game. Sounds a little silly, but we were somewhat surprised that we didn't know any of the estimated 30,000 people wearing green.
5) My heart almost exploded, but we made it. Right after the bowl game, I pointed the SUV towards Harrisonburg, VA and set out knowing that we were going to drive straight through the night or stop at a cheap hotel. I also figured that we could meet our goal of driving straight through if Dawn took a 2 hour shift so that I could have a power-nap. Didn't happen. I felt great until 3AM when my sleep-deprived brain got me closer to an LSD trip than I'll ever get in my life. At that point, it was a little pointless to get a hotel for 4 hours and Dawn was so out of it, I would never have been able to nap knowing that she was manning the wheel. I then proceeded to jack myself up on every legal stimulant possible. First, I took a "Rockstar" shot, which claims to have 200mg of caffeine plus some other legal uppers. I chased this immediately with a diet Mountain Dew and then dipped enough tobacco to melt my gums away. We got home around 6AM, just in time for said stimulants to begin to wear away and the natural LSD trips to begin again. After stumbling upstairs to my bed, I began to feel heart palpitations. I get these if I have too much caffeine. I nodded off, not so much worried about a heart attack, but whether the heart attack would prevent the sleep I so desperately needed.
Now I'm back, mostly recovered and ready to get back in to a routine. Overall a good trip and I'm especially thankful that we got to catch up with Dawn's family. That's something that doesn't happen near enough. A lot of other stuff happened which may or may not make it's way in to future posts.
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