Tendon Sick

Here's a terrific development from my moment of achievement two weeks ago.  The extra wear and tear of thirteen miles seems to have somehow injured my achilles tendon.  Now whenever I do anything the slightest bit physical - like say, dig up a garden, I get an intense pain in my achilles tendon.  We're talking about pain that would be akin to someone kicking me in the achilles tendon with a sledge hammer.  I realize that one cannot kick with a sledgehammer, but that's how it feels.  I looked it up on webmd.  It sounds like achilles tendinitis.  It's common for middle aged men, who have recently increased their running distance. So my great achievement has really just become a friendly reminder of how old I am.  Great.

It Is Finished

I successfully ran 13.1 miles this past Sunday at the Lincoln Marathon.  This is longer than I ever thought I could run, and my body continues to remind me that it was a horrible idea.  Here is my review of the weekend.

THE PRE-RACE:

I went up before the race with other people from Goodwill who were also running the race.  Pre-race activities go like this.  First you get your bib and chip and everything.  Then you go to a spaghetti feed.  I picked up my stuff without incident, then proceeded to wait for others from our party to show in the lobby of Embassy Suites.  As I age, I become less and less patient with big groups - as it relates to planning.  The best number to make plans with with is 6.  After that, everyone should just go their own way.  The Goodwill Running Club does not subscribe to this point of view.  So about 10 of us attempted to eat at the Spaghetti dinner.  That meant splitting up, which I immediately thought was awesome.  While everyone tried to clear out seats near each other, I splintered off and sat with some strangers.  They were very nice, and didn't talk to me.  But the Goodwill Running Club was nice enough to find an extra seat for me, so I was called back into the fray.  The fray turned out to be okay, however, as I was a sat next to the siblings of my co-worker's wife.  I didn't know them from a hill of beans, and it was nice getting to know them a little.  Except they kept eating.  They had two full plates of pasta and salad.  I believe we sat there for 2 hours.  I did have two bomb pops while I was waiting. 

We then went back to the hotel.  It was an old Holidome, so it had a swimming pool and putt putt golf.  It felt like the sort of hotel I stayed at when I was a kid, except that this time I was drinking.  I also scored a free beer, because the bartender didn't know how to ring anything up.  I went to bed at about 10pm. 

At 5:30 I woke up and did some stretching.  I also ate this power bar thing and drank some water.  Super nervous.  Convinced we were going to get there late. 

THE RACE:
We got to the race just as they were telling everyone to line up.  This made me very nervous, but it turns out they tell you to line up for a long time.  So we took some pictures.  Everyone from Goodwill had a blue shirt except for me.  Mine was too small.  It really accentuated my boobs, while not forgetting about my gut.  I had to fight not to wear it, as many in the Goodwill running club felt that it would be okay to wear it "just for pictures." I felt like the prospect of pictures was exactly why wearing it was a bad idea.  They didn't seem to understand.  But I had to foresight to leave it in Omaha.

There were about 6,000 people in the race, so even though the gun went off promptly at 7am, we didn't actually start for another 20 minutes.  This was really fun.  Sitting in a crowd of nervous people, full of anxiety, making small talk, asking about shirts.  Then we finally started running.  I was so nervous I had forgotten to cue up my chosen audio for the run: the local New Orleans broadcast of the Super Bowl.  I clumsily started it up while running, and set out to find my pace.

The funny thing about running with 6,000 other people is that you can literally be passing people throughout the race, and still be one of the real losers of the race.  It was crazy.  I passed so many people.  For the first 8 miles, I was constantly running by people.  I kept checking myself to make sure I wasn't running too fast, but it seemed like everything was okay.  The route of the race takes you through mostly city streets, but for a large stretch, it goes on a narrow path along a highway.  This made the passing much more difficult, but also took my mind off the fact that I had been running 7 miles, and still had 6 to go. 

Now might be a opportune time to discuss a segment of the runners that appear to only be on the course to discourage.  This is the subset who go back and forth between running and walking.  You pass them while they are walking, and moments later they pass you when they decide to run.  This is not fair.  If you are going to run, then run.  But once you have started walking, you should have to stay that way.  This is particularly frustrating when you are about to pass someone, and they start running along side you.  Sometimes faster than you.  Many people did this to me.  And I wanted to kill them all.  I also wanted to kill the people on the narrow path, who saw fit to run in large groups.  I'm all for togetherness while running (really I'm not), but it seems like there are some times where single file just makes sense.  Everyone else I loved.  There was just a really good feeling oozing all around.

So at about mile 9, I started to fade.  I had run 10 miles in the past but the prospect of having 4 more to go, made this part of the race the most trying.  It was also mostly uphill.  Chelsey and Chuck had showed up at about mile 5, and I was desperately looking for them again to give me some encouragement.  I was told that the encouragement would make a big difference, but thought it might just stir up rage for someone like me.  Not at all the case.  The constant cheering from the crowd really helped.  Complete strangers yelling "Come on Green!" (I was wearing a Green shirt) somehow made the tough times less tough.  But seeing Chuck and Chelsey were certainly the high points.  I knew I would see them again at about mile 10 or 11, and I was just holding on until them.  Finally I saw them.  I remember asking them where I was, and one of them saying mile 11.  This was of great relief to me, as I knew I had two more miles in me, but wasn't sure about three.

I basically held on the rest of the way.  Chuck showed up again at about mile 12 (Chelsey was using the restroom), and Memorial Stadium was within view.  It seemed like it took forever to get inside the stadium (as marathon runners passed me - mind you), but I made it out onto the field, and ran to the 50 yard line.

I got my medal and I was done.

THE POST-RACE

Completely exhausted, and packed under the stadium with about 4,000 other exhausted people.  I grabbed some water, and attempted to find some fruit.  There was a huge line to the fruit (and oatmeal - who want oatmeal after a run?) so I just walked around.  I found another Goodwill runner and waited around for like an hour and a half to organize a picture of all of us.  I would just like to say again how much I hate big groups.

We finally left the stadium, and Chuck took us to the hotel.  I showered up, and Chelsey and I headed downtown to get some food.  The place we went to served Abita, which was a nice treat, but neither of us felt all that great.  Me because I was physically dead tired, her because she was also sleepy dead tired.  Downtown Lincoln is just lovely by the way.  Just lovely.  Chelsey drove us home after we ate, and I laid around the rest of the day.  My thighs were worthless for the next two days.

So that's the story.  I really enjoyed the running.  I hope I keep it up, but I'm nervous that the absence of a race will keep me from doing so.  I guess I will always have this race though.  I ran 13.1 miles at a rate of 10:58 per mile.  Which is really miserably slow.  But almost a minute better than when I started running miles in January.  It's pretty cool to think that I could barely run two miles back then.  And it's cool to think that I never have to do this again if I don't want.    

Things I Don't Understand

1. How an oil spill gets cleaned up.  The controlled burn solution for the oil outside of Louisiana seems dumb to me.  But then I don't know how to clean up oil.  It just seems like there would be a better solution than that.
2. How the financial reform bill did not get passed.  How would that not have been a winning issue for both parties.  I don't get it.  It seems like Wall Street is roundly hated.  Even more than the government is hated.  How did this not happen?
3. How did McGruber get a whole movie? 

Loneliness of the Middle Distance Runner

So the half marathon is this weekend.  I think I am ready.  I have run 10 miles.  I bought an energy bar.  I downloaded the radio boradcast of the Saints superbowl for diversion purposes.  I think I have addressed any chafing concerns.  I have a hotel.  I have a number.  I think there's nothing left to do.  I hope I don't die.  

I have 2 things to say.

Yeasayer. Love is All.

These are very nice things to hear on the way to work, with a little Beck thrown in. They blow NPR during a pledge drive right out of the water.

He Truly Was Risen

Yesterday I set out to run 9 miles.  I was only scheduled to run 8, but after talking to this girl at the gym who is also training for the half marathon, I decided I needed to run at least 9.  She had already run 10 miles, and was talking about how easy it was for her.  So in order to save face around the gym, and in order to prove to myself that I could actaully run the half marathon, I decided to kick it up to 9 miles on Easter Day.  Because, you know, I love Jesus. 

So I get out there at about 8:30am, and I am really impressed at how well it's going.  The run is borken up in my mind between the major streets that trend in a shouthernly direction on the Keystone Trail.  They go like this:  Center, Grover, L, Q, and Harrison.  I zip by Center like it's nothing at all.  There is almost no wind, and hardly anyone on the trail.  It takes longer than I thought to get to Grover, but I am still feeling very good, despite a cat that was glaring at me from the woods to my right. 

Soon after Grover, I see these three men dressed in black coming in my direction but still quite a ways off.  I don't have my glasses on as I am running, so they start out looking like goth kids, but soon focus into policemen.  There are three of them, and the one in front is running now.  I see that they are running up to something on the ground, and my first thought is "why are they running up to that sign that's been knocked over. 

Well it turns out that was no sign.  That is a body on the side of the trail.  A big old unresponsive body.  With a bog fat beard, and blood all over its chest.  Apparently dead.  Defintiely unresponsive.  The cops try and shield me from it as I walk by, which I am grateful for, as the idea of running by a dead man makes me a little sick to my stomach (turns out I'm human after all - sometimes I wonder).

I keep running, and I make it past L, and then Q, and I turn around just short of Harrison.  I figure it's Easter, I'm getting tired, and I think I feel good about my ability to turn around, and from where I am turning around, I'm in the neighborhood of nine miles.

So I start heading back, and as I suspected, I had been running with a breeze at my back the whole time.  So I am now running into a headwind.  But it is the nicest headwind I can ever rememeber.  All it's doing is cooling me off.  I can't believe how lucky I am, with the exception of the dead body.

But as I pass Q and then L, my luck runs out.  I still feel good, but the police have now roped off the trail where they found the body, and they aren't letting anyon by anymore.  And since the trail is on a ravine, I have no other options of getting around.  So I turn off and head into the neighborhoods.

I have no idead how to get around in the neighborhoods.  I know the trail is right next to 60th Street, and I know I need to find 60th Street to get around the taped off stuff, but like most residential areas, this one is all jacked up.  The roads twist and turn, and to my great delight, head uphill.  Now the charm of the trail is the absence of hills, and this all goes out the window as I am trying to find 60th.  I finally run up this gigantic hill and find access to 60th, but as I look down the road in the direction I need to go, I notice two things.  1) No sidewalk.  2) More hills.

So I start trudging up the hill and quickly discover that the non sidewalked roadside is all spongy from moles.  This makes running even harder.  Then I see a dead bird (that's one dead man and one dead bird).  Then I finally get to Grover so I can hook back up with with trail.

The rest of the run goes pretty well.  I hop on the trail right in front some guy, and by the grace of god I am able to stay in front of him the rest of the way.  This is the first time I have ever not been passed since I started running when I was about 15.  This guy looked like each step could have been his last.

I got off the trail and ran the rest of the way back to to my Grandma's house.  Finally reached my stopping point and nearly collapsed.  But I couldn't collapse all the way because a car pulled up and the driver asked me if I lived in the apartments I was nearly collpasing in front of.  I told him I didn't.  Why it seemed like a good idea to approach someone who is so he exhasted he can't stand is still not clear to me.

The rest of the day consisted of me talking about how tired I was from my 10 mile run (yes, with the deadman detour it turned into a 10 mile run), and showing off my homemade Lombardi Tropy to my family at our easter dinners.  Oh - and telling everyone about the dead guy.

After a while everyone got sick of hearing about the running, my grandma noted that I mispelled the word "trophy" on the trophy ( I spelled it "tropy"), and my dad started doubting my dead man story because there was nothing about it on the news.

Then right before I went to bed I found the story on my ipod.  Here's what it said.

A jogger on the Keystone Trail called Omaha police about 9 a.m. Sunday to report an injured man near the trail at 65th and L Streets.
Police were investigating to determine how the victim, 51, was assaulted, said Officer Jacob Bettin, a police spokesman.
He was taken to the Nebraska Medical Center with an injury not believed to be life-threatening.
Police had no further information.

HE TRULY WAS RISEN!

  

This is so handy.

All the new releases for the foreseeable future.