To infinity and beyond?

Lame news up front - no DFMC for me in 2011. I've been injured too often in the back half of 2010, I need to spend the winter in the pool, rebuilding myself from the ground up. I may volunteer on the big day, though.

I am, however, hoping to add another big race to my resume in 2011. Inspired by the brilliant performances in yesterday's NYC Marathon, I'm going to throw my name into the lottery for a spot in the 2011 five-borough affair. With a half marathon here in Salem at the end of September and a training period that I can spend almost entirely outdoors, I'm really excited at the prospect of putting a much more thorough marathon effort together than I managed over last winter.

One last note. DFMC raised $4,556,954.60 this year. $6,485 was my final tally. Congratulations and thank you to every single runner and donor. What we accomplished this year was simply phenomenal. Cheers!

A Brief Thank You

I just want to thank all of you who have read this blog over the DFMC season. Thanks for all your support!

If you fall off the horse...

...you must of course get back on. That is what has always been said. They never got around to saying what to do if the horse throws you off, though.

If running is the horse, the marathon certainly threw me off.

After two months off, I woke up on the morning of June 20th to participate in the first ever NSMC Cancer Run - a 5K held after the NSMC Cancer Walk. Unfortunately, I was hardly awake 15 minutes before realizing that I felt like death. I spent a considerable amount of time in the bathroom, then a considerable amount of time in the kitchen, and eventually, my stomach was quieted enough that I felt I could at least soldier through it. It was Father's Day after all.

I drove down to the area in which the race was starting (and finishing), and got a pretty good parking space. It was warm, so I didn't do much more than light stretching. I felt pretty bad - probably the worst I've felt on a race day ever.

We got underway at 11am, and once we got moving, I felt a bit better. However, while my stomach felt less awful, the rust on my legs and in my lungs made its presence known. I ran an absolutely lurid 33:xx, on a particularly easy course. I know I shouldn't get down on myself considering the circumstances, but I can't help it. I feel that, if I really focused and worked at it, I could get my 5K time down into the low 20s. Time now to get back to regular running...

I finally replaced my trusty red and white Asics 2140s, the shoes which I wore during my training for and running of the Boston Marathon. They treated me well. Their replacements? Blue, white and black Asics 2150s. They were straight up blue and white when I bought them, a color scheme I wasn't really a fan of, but it was the only choice available in my width. I replaced the white laces with black ones, and now they look snazzy. Though, looking at them now, I see I need to re-lace them, because they aren't the same as my old shoes. But I digress. My only complaint, at least so far, is that the cushioning in the heel isn't as good as it was in the 2140. I hope it's just a matter of the shoe needing to adjust to my foot, but I'm worried that I'll have to invest, for the first time, in new insoles. Not something I want to have to experiment with...

Upcoming races... A 5K to benefit Salem High Track and Field on July 25th. First week of August, Heritage Days 5K and Yankee Homecoming 5K. Derby Street Mile, August 20th, Salem. Considering going to some of the Lynn Woods races, if I can coerce some people to come along. They go off every Wednesday, so I should get to a few of them...

I think that's about it for this running update. More news as it happens.

The tale of the last Dana-Farber runner...

I probably won't be in anyone's photo albums, or in any video reels.

The B.A.A. doesn't acknowledge my existence past 25km.

As far as official documentation goes, I am, for all intents and purposes, a ghost. Vanished off the map after 16 miles. What happened? Well, I'll tell you.

---

Marathon Monday began with my mother making sure I was awake -- fifteen minutes before I needed to be. I roused myself from a meager slumber, made my way into the bathroom, and hopped in the shower. Got out, dried off, got dressed in pre-race attire. Made sure everything was stuffed into my yellow bag. Ate a breakfast of scrambled eggs and English muffins. My dad, my brother and I left for Boston at 5:30. They dropped me off at the Marriott at about 6:00. I headed upstairs, and stood around, a bit timidly, until we were ushered off to the buses at Boston Commons.

During the wait for the bus and the ride to Hopkinton, I got to know two of my fellow teammates, Stefy and... Emily, I think it was. Stefy was the only veteran amongst the three of us, and she talked us through what we would experience, told us what we might need to know. I was feeling eerily calm. We arrived in Hopkinton just before 9:00, grabbed a little area, and got ready. At 9:10, the staff took us outside for the group photo. At about 9:30, we heard the Wheelchair division go off. Our Wave 1 Runners left for the starting line, and at 10:00, we heard them go off. Not long after, we humble Wave 2 runners departed for the starting corrals. The weather was impeccable. Cool, partly cloudy, a slight breeze. Couldn't ask for better conditions.

There's one thing no one ever really tells you about the starting corrals for Wave 2. They are very much reminiscent of a roller coaster. The last corrals are at the bottom of a fairly considerable hill, and you slowly trudge up to your corral, and you wait, staring up a hill full of people, waiting for the ride to begin.

At 10:30, our ride began, and the front of Wave 2 crested the hill. About 10 minutes after the gun went off, I crossed the starting line. That is the last place things went according to plan.

The first 5km of the race was, for lack of a better word, dreamy. My pace was comfy, I felt like I could go faster, but I pulled in the reins and kept it pretty respectable. Mile splits were something like 10:45, 9:50, 11:15; 5km was 32:02. I wasn't keeping great track, my watch wasn't the greatest. Second 5km, I started to realize that I was actually doing this, and the nerves hit. Had to make two bathroom stops of about 5 minutes. With those, my second 5km was about 46:19. I was still ahead of the pace I had metered out in music on my iPod by quite a bit. The third 5km, my pace was 38:45 . So, through 15k (9.3 miles), I'm sitting at 1:57:06, and pretty happy, considering ~10 minutes of that was spent either in a porta-potty or in line for one.

The fans in the first 10km, and even most up to 15km, were amazing. Every row of high fives was like a little boost of energy, of confidence. Every time someone yelled my name, I felt empowered (and a little bewildered. It's not often people yell my name!). Really made things fun and eased my mind.

Fourth 5km, I had one more, slightly shorter bathroom break (the last, thankfully), and my pace was 46:45. Things are going pretty well, right? Sans the three bathroom breaks, I'd be just over 5 hour pace, an hour faster than I anticipated. Cruising along, right into Wellesley. They told me I'd be able to hear the lovely ladies of Wellesley College from a mile away, and let me tell you, they weren't lying. Even almost three hours in, they were out in full force, with signs and high fives for one and all. It was quite the experience.

Unfortunately, it will be something other than the women of Wellesley that I remember most about this stretch of land. A couple of minutes after crossing the 20k marker, I felt something in the back of my right leg give. It was more than a twinge, but thankfully, not a pop, somewhere in the upper calf/lower knee region. I came to almost a complete stop. Tried to walk it out. Couldn't. Sat down, stretched. Got up, walked. All I could think was "you're not injured you're not injured you're not injured " over and over.

After a bit, I got myself back to a light jog, and I crossed the halfway point. I was still ahead of my planned pace, so I decided it was best to take it easy. No sense in pushing the leg I may have just hurt, right? Right. I kept up the light jog for about three miles, into Newton. At that point, it became clear to me that my leg had had enough of my demands. I continued onwards at a walk, until I spotted the next medical tent. I stopped by, grabbed some Tylenol, and a bottle of water. Took a seat outside the tent, and thought for a few minutes. Thought that it was over, that I couldn't conceivably keep going. After all, I can't even jog.

And that was what was running through my mind when one of the medical personnel guys came over and asked me if I was done, going back on the bus.

I hesitated for a moment before telling him no.

I took a moment, gathered myself, and started walking.

I eventually made it to the aforementioned 25km marker. My time read 3:46:56. They practically were rolling up the timing mechanism as I crossed. I kept walking. By Mile 18, the road crew was coming along and taking down the mile markers. 18 was the last one I saw. I kept walking. Up through the Newton hills, past some sore, staggering souls. I knew that my friend Maria was waiting at Mile 21, at Boston College, with Reese's peanut butter cups. I wanted them. I kept walking.

Eventually, I descended from the Newton hills, down towards BC. Very few people were still out cheering, but there was my friend Maria, with a sign, some chocolate, some water, and two surprises -- my dear friends Felicia and James, who live in Maine, had ventured down to cheer me on. I stopped and said hello, explained to them how things had gone.

"We're walking the rest of the way with you," was their collective response.

So we walked. Five point two miles. Through Brookline, and into Boston proper. Down Beacon St., past hundreds of hammered college students, past other runners heading home. The walk seemed interminable, even with company. A friendly shop owner gave me an ice cold bottle of water. All the while, James was behind me, occasionally holding up a neon green sign that said "GO COCO GO" in black and glittery letters. Eventually I could see the famed Citgo sign. I kept walking. The sign, and with it Kenmore Square, Boylston St., and the finish line, inched closer.

Roughly seven hours and seven minutes after departing Hopkinton, I gimped across the finish line.

But my family, and my girlfriend, were nowhere to be seen.

I was thrown my pre-race bag off of a truck, and handed a finisher's medal out of a van. Everything was starting to get packed in. We headed to the Marriott Copley, where everyone was meeting up afterwards. I got my mom on the phone, told her to meet us there. I got there, was nearly toppled by my girlfriend running to hug me.

"Some bitch at the medical tent said you dropped out after 25k with an injury!" she exclaimed. Everyone else was abuzz with emotion. My aunt, my nana, my parents, my brother, my friends, were all talking at once. I had just enough energy to get one important thing out:

"She was wrong. No way I wasn't finishing."

---

Everything after that is an achey blur. It took me a while to work out the words for this post, to confront the vast array of emotions I experienced last Monday. It was a tough, tough day. One of the most difficult days I've endured in terms of physical pain. Some things went right, some went awry. There is still a strange, distinct mix of disappointment and pride swirling about within me, but ultimately, I look at it like this: by the time the fundraising has ended, we will have raised over $6,000 for cancer research, and, on a day where almost everything that could have gone wrong did, I still scratched and clawed and fought my way to the finish.

This leaves me with one thought, at the end of everything:

"Well, it can only go better next year, right?"

Less than a week left.

Not sure what's left at this point.

I've more or less trained all I can. It's all about pre-race preparation and mental conditioning. All about getting through it, getting through the wall. Work out the strategy of running, which, fortunately, is something I'm pretty decent at.

And shill for those last minute donations, of course.

Oh, and I have to decide if I want to give my luscious locks a trim between now and Sunday. Leaning yes, but it's not much of a lean.

Tonight, I gave my body its last good beating before the race. Played ultimate at the O'Keefe Center, pretty much savage (without subbing out, for those of you who don't play), for like two hours. Even did some 100m sprints before practice, or at least tried to. Haven't done that in almost literally four years. Last high school meet was early May of 2006.

So yeah, things are looking good. Forecast is in the mid 50s for Monday, mostly sunny. I like that. Bringing in my paperwork Friday afternoon then spending the evening with my lovely girlfriend. Then it's rest rest rest, pasta party, rest, wake up, get nervous, get ready and





...go.

Go Directly to Summer. Do not cross Spring, do not collect $200.

This streak of mostly unseasonably warm weather we're at the beginning of has made life a bit easier. I feel more upbeat, which is nice. Makes running outside so very enjoyable and rewarding. I've been mixing in days with two middle distancey runs - two 5s, a 5 and a 6, etc. Not much turnaround between, usually a quick stretch, a class period, a bit of warmup, and then back. Not quite the same as a full-on long run, but effective, so long as I make sure I don't pull anything.

The warm weather has got me wondering about the big day, though. I know that typically, the best weather is partly cloudy and in the low-mid 50s, minimal wind, unless it is a tail wind. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm hoping we overshoot that a bit. My best work has come between ~60 and 70 degrees, and I don't mind a slight breeze, even if it is a headwind. With the exception of weather like today -- 80+ -- I don't think my run is going to be terribly affected by the weather. My goal is to finish, optimally under 6 hours; my prospective pace is slow enough that the effect the weather will have on it is presumably negligible, so personally, I'm rooting for weather that is either equally miserable for everyone or enjoyable for us slow folks.

What about any of you reading this? What are you hoping for for weather?

Le sigh

Lately I have just not felt entirely myself. I'm not sure if it's the typical seasonal affective disorder that I tend to suffer from during the late winter/early spring or not. I lean towards "not", because we have had unseasonably warm weather, and we have changed the clocks. Those two things tend to signify both the spring and me coming out of my funk. And for a while, that was true this year.

But for the most part of the last week, I have just felt off. I felt off before the 5K, I felt off during and after. The week has been good, in general, and I have had fun with most of it, but when I am left to my own devices, I haven't really done all that well. I'm finding it hard to focus on my training, which is not good, as I am already behind.

All of this has been capped of with my stomach feeling pretty rocky over the last day or so, and for no apparent reason. My diet hasn't changed, I'm not sick, nothing like that. But for some reason, my stomach is just... not quite right. Hopefully it clears up relatively quickly, because I need to kick ass over these next three weeks.

This shouldn't be this hard at this point.

I'm not ready.

I'm not.

Had a 5k this morning, at the local golf course. My second favorite distance behind the 200 meters. Yes, the 200 meters. I will always be a sprinter at heart. The course was the sort of course that should favor me, lots of small to medium hills. I live at the highest elevation in Salem, I can't do any runs without hills. This race should have been in my wheelhouse.

And I sucked. I made literally every mistake I could've made, both mentally and physically. Terrible. The course was a mess from all the rain, but I can't even blame it on that. I wasn't warmed up enough, didn't stretch well enough, didn't eat or drink what I should've beforehand. I took terrible lines around and through the soggy areas, ran the downhills poorly. My feet and ankles hate me. I really could not have run a worse race.

Fuck.

Who wants a mixtape?

We've got a month to go. Maybe a little incentive will get you guys donating!

Anyone who donates... let's say $20 or more and responds to this post in some fashion after doing so -- email me, comment here or on Facebook or wherever. Donate, get a hold of me, and tell me what styles of music you like, or perhaps a theme you want the songs to have. You do that, and you will get a custom built mp3 mix from yours truly. If you're lucky, I might even burn it on fancy CD-R for you. At the very least, you'll get a neatly packaged mix in your email, which can be added to iTunes, burned, etc.

So use that little link to the right side of the page and donate!

I should write more often.

Arg.

Training is going alright. I'm still behind quite a bit, and will remain as such until Marathon Monday. It can't be helped at this point. But my legs are strong, and my lung capacity is good. As long as I put in good work for the next six weeks, I think I'll be fine, though of course not as good as I'd like to be.

I think, and I suppose hope, that the emotions of the day will make the first hour easy, and that the support of my friends and family will help make the last hour easier. I feel like, in a way, I only need to mentally prepare myself for the middle 15 of the race. If I can will my way through that, I will be okay.

Fundraising, on the other hand, is going pretty well. We have raised over twelve hundred dollars so far, with a lot more coming this month. I think we should hit $3500-4000 by April 1st. Hopefully after that we can approach the goal of $7500.

If not, there's always next year! (?)

Oh my.

Just got my singlet.

This thing is snazzy.

The game has changed.

As I write this, there are 77 days until Patriots' Day. Twenty-eight days in February, thirty-one in March, and eighteen in April.

The bad news: I lost the entire month of January to sickness.

The good news: I am healthy now, and I am hungry. The last couple of days, I have felt this energy in me, trying to find its way out. I feel strong. I feel anxious, in a good way, like I haven't felt in longer than I can remember.

Tomorrow is my first day back on the grind. Probably a light run, some time on the elliptical, some core work, and maybe a little strength training, depending on how I feel.

I don't have much time. Eleven weeks. I have to train smarter than I've ever trained. I have to push myself further than I've ever pushed myself before. I have to stay healthy, eat healthy. This challenge is so much more than I ever expected, now. Of course, no one can foresee being sick for nearly a month straight, either. That said, it's here, it's in front of me, it's attainable. I got this.

I got this.

Is there a doctor in the house?

Last time I wrote, which was about 11 days ago, I explained the lovely, and odd, cold symptoms that I was having. Sinus pressure, headaches, bloody mucus, and a hint of a scratchy throat. All of those things I had had for a little less than a week at that point.

A few days after that post, I saw my PCP. Gave me some antibiotics. Started taking them, the sinuses started to get better, less bloody.

Flash forward to today, 8 days after that appointment.

I am still sick, but have a whole new set of symptoms!

Sinuses are more or less done. Still a little stuffy, but manageable. I have had a fever, very off and on, for perhaps the last two weeks. Due to its strange timing -- sometimes it goes away for a day or two before coming back -- I did not really notice it until a few days ago. Thinking back, I probably had a fever in a few situations where I just didn't notice it, like being outside shoveling or walking or waiting for the T.

Throat is 1000% percent worse. It hurts very much to swallow. Eating Saltines feels like eating swords. My glands are swollen like crazy, and I am salivating a goddamn ton. On top of that, in the last 48 hours, dry heaves/vomiting has been added to the mix. Just lovely, really. And, while it's not really a symptom, per se, the horrible dreams/nightmares I have been having the last few nights suck.

What is with the wheel of symptoms? Does anyone have any logical explanation for this?

Now playing: "Sick, Sick, Sick"

Good god.

I feel pretty miserable.

For the last... week or so, my sinuses have been exploding. I'll spare you all the lovely, disgusting details, but I will say that in the last couple of days, it has turned distinctly bloody. Not cool. The headaches and neckaches that have come along (the former due to the pressure, the latter due to being unable to sleep) have only made things lovelier. I tried running on Thursday and I thought I was going to faint. It was not good.

It's time to see a doctor. Though I'm not sure what he'll say -- this feels like more than just a sinus infection. I've had those before, they've come and gone pretty quietly. Never like this. The only symptoms I've got are the sinus headaches / the horrible mucus, a slightly scratchy throat, and possibly swollen glands. Otherwise, I feel fit as a fiddle. No cough, no fluid in the lungs, no fever, no fatigue. I just feel like I've been beaten about the head and neck.

Ugh.

Anyone know any temporary fixes until I can go see the doctor later this week?

New Year and a race day recap

New Year's Day, Wicked Frosty Four. Nice little race, mostly flat, a few hills of little consequence, one good size one. I didn't feel particularly great for the third mile, thought I was going to puke; the OJ and toast I had for breakfast sorta bubbled up. No good. That said, between that and essentially taking the month of December off, my time of 39:50 was better than expected. I came in hoping to break 40, and with an admittedly bad run, I still did, so I feel pretty good, in retrospect.

Anyway, we are officially in 2010 now, which means that the Marathon looms ever closer. I'm off to the Y tomorrow for some strength training and either a short run or a long session with the elliptical machine, depending on how crowded it is. Might consider a swim if the pool is open. Guess I'm gonna play it more by ear than I thought.

Gotta remember to stretch better. I've done a shitty job of it as of late, and that will not cut it going forward.