Can't We Find Better Things To Worry About?

I'm going to have to throw my support to Wulfgar's statement from the 11th of August, "I've Had Enough." Honestly, what is wrong with our culture when The Washington Post publishes articles like Elizabeth Tenety's "Under God: Obama's religion: does your president's faith matter?" I have nothing against Tenety's article, just the simple fact that someone had to write it. In fact, she opens up with a quote from the constitution, Article VI, Section 3: "No religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States."

I find no relevancy in this question to President Obama's ability to lead this country. Unfortunately, not everyone believes in the separation of Church and State or even religious pluralism. Judging by the Constitution, it appears that the authors at least understood the importance of these concept insofar as to limit its influence upon secular politics. Despite their best intentions, the political stage in the United States does not embody "freedom of religion." Why not?  Perhaps it is because the body of citizens aren't chosen for their neutrality and solid grasp on reason; they're not chosen at all.

I find it terribly interesting that this headline follows a proclamation by Interview with a Vampire author Anne Rice. "Today I quit being a Christian. I'm out." I had caught an interview on National Public Radio a couple weeks ago, and it gave me quite a bit to think about. At the time of writing the The Vampire Chronicles, she was an abashed Atheist, later to become a reborn Christian and devout Catholic. I encourage you to read or listen to the NPR article, which goes into depth as to why she made this statement on her Facebook page:

"For those who care, and I understand if you don't: Today I quit being a Christian. I'm out. I remain committed to Christ as always but not to being 'Christian' or to being part of Christianity. It's simply impossible for me to 'belong' to this quarrelsome, hostile, disputatious, and deservedly infamous group. For ten years, I've tried. I've failed. I'm an outsider. My conscience will allow nothing else."

This statement didn't earn her many fans on the Christian side of the isle, and I can't say I disagree with her. The same could be said for many organized religious groups. Personally, I find it hard to stay involved with any religious group. As some of you may know, I'm a Nichiren Buddhist, only loosely involved with the Soka Gakkai International (SGI) - USA community.  Loosely because although I enjoy meeting with like-minded individuals, I place higher priority on other things: family, friends, work.  I enjoy personal pursuit of knowledge and enlightenment, but the truth is that I'm not passionate about it; certainly not enough to evangelize about it (this will probably be one of the few times you'll hear me mention it).  There are many good things I can say about SGI, but I'll save that for another time - only if you really want to hear about it.

With President Obama, I think we'll be just fine.  Others agree.  Let's hope the rational citizenship pays no further heed to such headlines and judges our President on the merit of his Administration rather than breed of his Religion.  Really, don't make me give up!

Race Report: 2010 Grandma's Marathon

(Continued from "Grandma's Marathon - Pre-Race Report".)

A few short moments after the fly-over, the racers started crowding up to the front of the chute. It was time to begin running! Or, maybe walk for a bit. "Hurry up and wait" came to mind as Clem, Dave and I chuckled and joked about the pace. When we did finally get moving, I was feeling pretty optimistic. My knee was feeling pretty good, and having great company definitely helped.

Clem did his homework regarding the pacing, and I learned that the 3'50" pacer's name was Jack. The strategy was to stay within sight, either in front of or just behind Jack. This went well, and the first few miles disappeared into the past. Around the second or third mile, I recognized a slight discomfort in my left knee. We met another runner by the name of Chad, also running his first marathon, one by the name of Dan, a young 20-something kid, first time marathoner, and I believe a marathon veteran by the name of Darin. Chad and Darin sported their names on their jerseys/shirts, and Clem was a veritable chatterbox.

By mile six, I voiced my discomfort to Clem's question. "I'm feeling it." He expressed his concern. "I'll stay on pace as long as I can," I said, but I told him to run his own race. Right around mile 7 or 8, I started to drop back. Clem was on pace, and he looked back to find me. I waved him forward and he nodded acknowledgement. Someone would need to finish on goal, and it wouldn't be me this day.

When the knee pain did arrive, it came quickly. Illotibial Band Syndrom (ITBS)is a relatively painful inflammation of the Illotibial Band, the tendon that runs from your hip, outside your thigh, and wraps along the outside of your knee, attaching to your tibia. When you run, this tendon can get inflamed in two spots, at your hip, which causes a painful bursitis, or at your knee. I encountered the bursitis last Fall while preparing for the Monster Dash half marathon. It took me out of the running for months. I didn't speak with a doctor or physical therapist about it, opting to try to fix the problem with cross training and stretching. Apparently, it only partially worked.

By mile 9, the pain was intense. I decided that it was time to try something, anything to reduce the pain. I had seen a National Guard first aid truck on my way through the mile 9 water station. I turned back and limped to the truck. Inside was a ratherdespondent runner. When I asked what was wrong, he didn't respond verbally, but indicated that his quads hurt. It was likely he was one of the 27 elite Kenyan runners invited to run Grandma's this year. This would be the closest I would come to meeting one today, unfortunate circumstances, indeed. I pointed at my knee while the trooper prepared the ice for me.

I walked away from the truck, sat at the side of the road, iced my knee and watched runners flow by. I could drop out here and no one would fault me for it, but for some reason, I wasn't ready to give up. The minutes ticked by, but I exercised restraint and continued to ice the knee for a full 10 minutes. I couldn't wait any longer. I ran through the water stations for a second time, this time with a pleasantly numb knee. Rather than pain, it felt like there was a rock underneath my tendon. Weird.

The race changed dramatically for me from that point on. It was a race of little goals. My family was waiting for me at the finish line, and I wanted more than anything to run through the chute. From the beginning of the race, I either passed or was passed by people wearing pink shirts, cancer survivors or cause shirts. I knew I was in pain, but I kept thinking that there were others in greater pain than myself who couldn't or wouldn't have the opportunity to run a marathon. I wasn't running for them, but I wasn't ready to give up either. Emotionally, I was an inspired wreck. I acknowledged that my body might not carry me that far, but I was going to try. I resolved to make it to the half-marathon point, which also happened to be close to first of the medical drop-out points.

The miles didn't tick off as quickly as before, but I tried not to stop running. Where running was painful, starting and stopping was more so. At the 11 mile aid station, I tried to do get an ITBS support-style taping, but I was too sweaty and hairy for it to work. Instead, the aid volunteer ACE-bandaged my thigh.  I took a couple of Tylenol to dull the pain, which I think helped slightly. The wrap didn't really do anything, but mentally it added to my effort.

The half-marathon point came and went, and the medical drop-out point loomed ahead. I stared hard and long at it as I jogged on by. "Not yet," I told myself. Walk, jog, walk jog. By mile 16 or was it 15, I felt I had to do something else to manage the pain. The wrap wasn't working, and I had some longer stretches of walking I wasn't happy with. I turned and walked back to the aid station... again. This was the Cadillac of aid stations. They had recliner chairs, potato chips, and gummy worms. I iced my knee in luxury. The people there were great and quite familiar with sports injuries. They identified my hamstring wrap as unhelpful and instead re-wrapped it as a knee-compression wrap.

"How does it feel?" the aid volunteer asked. "It feels!" I grinned and thanked him. More optimistic, I set out again. I was going to finish this race! I hoped. The next four miles were filled with running and walking. I passed the same runner and walkers when I ran, only to be passed when they ran. We were the back of the pack, the injured, and the determined.

At mile 20, my right quads were cramping up and I began walking again. I called out to a fellow walker, a long-haired runner wearing a pair of Vibram Five Fingers. His name was John Gannon, and this was his first marathon in the barefoot-style shoes. We talked quite a bit. I asked him about his shoes, and he asked me about my knee. He brought my spirits back up from a very low point, and for that I'm truly thankful. He pointed out that I had already succeeded, that I had already won. My family was waiting for me at the finish line, and I had just completed 20 plus miles on a bum knee. I couldn't fail; there was no stopping now. Although my quads weren't participating, and my knee wasn't happy, I could still succeed. I only had to walk across that finish line; I didn't have to run.

Run I did, for another half mile, before walking again. I managed to do this for another two or three miles, but finally my quads gave up. I walked and reached out to another walker for conversation.  Hannah was also a Duluth alumnus running her second or third marathon, I believe.  She was having a good time of it, relatively speakingg. We walked and talked, laughed at the college spectators' jokes. Like many runners, we walked up Lemon Drop Hill, where Clem told me later his own quads gave out on him. At St Benedict's sandwich shop, Hannah started running again, determined to finish the race sooner than later. I tried to keep up, but my quads cramped up again.  I was going to walk it in, it seemed. Emotional low point; I was glad I was wearing my new sunglasses.

At mile 25, I met up with Dave Mari again. He had been running on a stress-fractured toe and was still taking pictures with people. I waved him to go on ahead of me, letting him know I would be walking it the rest of the way in. He made me smile, and I was resigned to my fate. I simply wanted the race to end at this point. I knew there was only one way to do that: keep walking.

Walk I did, until I rounded the final bend and was looking at the finish line. For some reason, I couldn't just stroll in, I had to at least try to jog. I coaxed my knee and my quad into action one last time. Starting was always the most painful part of the days' run, but I had yards to go. On the left, I saw my whole family cheering me on. We exchanged high-fived, and I smiled my way across the paint. I had done it. Somehow, I had managed to push past the pain, past the emotional low points, and drag my sorry carcass across the finish line [Edit: in 5:45!  Only two hours later than originally planned!]

Links:

• My Daily Mile Race Report
• Grandma's Race Results (5266 of 5611 runners)

Next: Grandma's Marathon - Post-Race Report

Pre-Race Report: 2010 Grandma's Marathon

This race report is long overdue, but I wanted to write it down while it was still relatively fresh in my mind.

Despite a known issue with ITB Syndrom in my left knee, I decided to make the attempt to complete the 2010 Grandma's Marathon in Duluth, MN.  Being an eternal optimist, I envisioned finishing in my goal time of 3:45.  Being a realist, I knew that I was going to have problems, I really just wanted to finish.

On suggestion from a few friends, I visited the Tria Orthopedics in Edina and met with Dr. Robert Jones.  He tested my knee, its stability, and pain threshold; he gave me the "All Clear" and an order for four PT appointments.  "You're going to be in pain," he said frankly, "but maybe we can help you a bit before you try."

I didn't manage to get an appointment until late Wednesday.  After a quick strength check, my physical therapist Eric stated, "You're strong, but not strong enough for twenty-plus miles."  He did ultrasound treatment of the ITB near the knee, gave me a few exercises to strength my glutes and muscles involved with the ITB, and wished me luck.  He did also offer a Cortizone treatment, not the shot but some sort of patch.  I passed, thinking it was a bit premature for me to go down that route.

The clinic and PT were both very well run, and the Doc and PT were receptive and knowledgable.  I would definitely recommend them to anyone.

It is a well known fact that Duluth goes through mini-inflation during large tourist events, such as the marathon.  I figured correctly that for a couple of days, I would easily spend $450-600 on lodging alone. Rather than dump that money into the tourist economy, we rented a friend's house for a week!  Yes, it was a perfect time to incorporate a vacation, something we haven't had much of in the last two or three years at this house.  (Thank you, Bakers!)  How can you beat a three bedroom house on the beach a mere block away from Canal Park?

We arrived in Duluth in the mid-afternoon on Thursday the 17th, well ahead of any traffic issues due  to the construction.  My sister-in-law Katie, her husband Izac, and their one year old Maizie joined us for dinner at Little Angies Cantina and stayed through Sunday.  Dinner was pretty good, but I wouldn't say stellar.  Meghan enjoyed her fajitas, but the rest of us had a mediocre experience.  Connor and Ryan did enjoy their Kidoritas!  I had asked for a tall beer, and man was it
tall!

Meghan and family left me alone to finish my beer and go pick up my race packet.  Rather than sit alone at the table, I went up to to the bar, where all the other lonely people go to drink their time away. There I met a couple in their 50's who were in town to cheer on their daughter who was running the marathon as well.  It was a time for parents, apparently, since my own dad call at that time to iron out plans for meeting up on Friday night.  I was going to have a rather large cheering section for the marathon on Sunday!  Angie, Chris and their children would be up as well!  My entire immediate family would be there to cheer me on.  I wouldn't realize how important that was to me until Saturday.

Race packet pickup was rather uneventful.  I "test drove" a pair of Newtons in the convention center  and received a few pointers on mid-foot strike running. I found I was still heal striking, big surprise.  Packet in hand, it was back to the house and then off to the grocery story for food, diapers, pull-ups, and assorted essentials.  I could deal with a few chores with vacation.  The day was long, so when I turned in for the night, I slept like a log.

Friday was a day for the beach, swimming, and simply lounging about. I ran barefoot up and down the beach with Peter, our Boston Terrier, partly to feel out my knee as well as wear the dog down; he gets a little high strung at times.  My knee felt good, with no recognizable pain.  Maybe things would work out!  Connor, Meghan, and Ryan looked for beach glass and played in the surf.

When Ryan took his nap at 3:00, I went in to the kitchen and prepped for a baked, stuffed chicken dinner.  Yes, I was cooking on the night before the marathon -- which I thought was fitting.  I'm told not to change things up drastically before a big race, and since I'm the cook in the house, why not keep things as normal as possible.

At 3:45, I strapped on the shoes and headed out to the DECC to meet up with some of my friends at Daily Mile.  It was great to finally meet up with people I knew only through a social website.  After a few pictures, we walked over to Grandma's Sports Garden for a beer and conversation. Jeni managed to get everyone's names and profiles linked in a note on the site here.  Everyone was pretty psyched for the race to come!  If you can't get excited under these conditions, you need to check your pulse and make sure you're still alive.

I headed back over to the DECC to do a little shopping.  I needed some new racing socks and a pair of sunglasses.  There were plenty of vendors to choose from, and the place was a lot busier than Thursday night.  Mission accomplished, it was time to head back to the house to resume duties as cook.

My parents had come in to town and set up the 5th-wheeler at the boat marina down the street from our rented house.  They arrived at the house just before I made it back from the DECC and took the boys back out on the beach while I prepped dinner.  It was a bit of a challenge finding all of the supplies I needed for dinner, but I managed to pull off a stuffed chicken dinner with salad, mashed potatos, and asparagus.  I didn't fill up, just topped off.  No need for a huge dinner before a bit race.

I didn't get much sleep that night.  Although I turned in early, I couldn't seem to calm my mind enough to drift to sleep.  I woke up multiple times, and generally tossed and turned all night.  At 5:00 am, it was time to get up, get dressed, and make my way to the bus that would take me and the other runners to the starting line just South of Two Harbors.

The bus trip up, I met a veteran marathon runner about my age by the name of Bob (I didn't catch his last name).  One of the most enjoyable part of these races is talking to new people.  What wasn't so wonderful was the school bus.  They really don't place the seats far enough apart for people over five feet tall.  My 6'2" frame didn't quite "fit" in the seat, and I was reminded of all the uncomftable rides to and from games or track meets during high school.  If I never ride in a school bus again, it'll be too soon.

We arrived at least a half hour before race start, and although I saw Clem walk past the bus I was in, I didn't run in to him until we lined up in the chute.  I did run in to Dave Mari, yes the famous Marathon Maniac.  He's hard to miss in his monkey T-shirt.  Although I didn't realize it at the time, he's been making quite a name for himself. What I did recongize immediately was his propensity to take a lot of pictures using the same pose.  A double peace sign and a big smile or pursed lips.  Look for him at your next marathon, and you just might see him.

Dave and I met up with Clem again just behind the 3'50" pace runner, Jack, snapped a few more pictures, and waited in excitement for the race to start.  Clem cautioned me to be careful and listen to my body. I agreed and said I would stay on pace as long as I could, but would let him know when to simply take off.  The National Anthem was sung, sans flag, and at its completion a pair of  Thunderbirds, the acrobatic jets, flew overhead.  What a way to start the race!

Read on in Part 2 - the Race Report!

Training - Cross It Up

After two weeks of some major mileage, my left hip has acted up again.  It's generally sore, but not to the point of limping like last October.  Rather than tough it out, I've been laying low and running slower shorter distances this week.  I even managed to get in to the pool on Tuesday, but I've been feeling general workout withdrawals because of it.

I know it's probably time that I commit more energy to core workouts and strength training.  I've proven to myself that I can put in the requisite time to run 20+ miles, and I understand under which conditions I'll feel well during those performances.  A light week of running followed by a rest day before a Long Slow Distance (LSD) leaves me with energy and feeling generally indestructible.  Well, that might be a bit too far fetched, but I certainly feel good enough to sing and smile while I'm running.  Something must be right about it.  I'm still pursuing consistency with a mid-foot strike, and will be looking for a more minimalist approach to shoes this coming season -- hopefully one that won't break the bank.

At a mere 177 pounds, I'm the heaviest I've been in two months, averaging around 173 to 175 depending upon when I weigh myself.  At 6'2", I've become damned skinny once again - time for new jeans.  This was to be expected, though, with the number of miles I've been putting in.  Growing up, I had never had the problem of thinking I'm not skinny enough, rather the opposite one.  I was the tall beanpole with no muscle mass and whose only talent, discovered late in my high school years, was for running long periods of time.  I was never that sprinter, and even though I was a two-way lineman on the football team my senior year, it was more out of team numbers than size that put me there.

I find running "easy", relatively speaking.  Sure there's work and pain involved, but its something I know how to cope with well enough to stay healthy and continue enjoying it.  However, I think I've come to a realization that skinny and long slow distance isn't enough anymore.  What is missing is general core strength and conditioning and more intense interval training.

I started down the route of cross training hitting the pool for recovery workouts this winter; it was and is a good direction.  With training and time, I've found another sport that I thoroughly enjoy, something that is a close sibling to running in many ways.  With very little change in the mechanics, you can go from a long, slow, endurance workout into a very demanding anaerobic one.  Bicycling as well falls in this category.  Triathlons are a possibility now that I have a very nice entry-level road-bike (Thank you, Meghan!) -- which I have yet to take out this year.

Through my recent trail running experience at the Zumbro 100, I learned about another fitness program from Matt Patten called Crossfit and a sister site called Crossfit Endurance.  I've been trying to wrap my head around its general approach.  Crossfit has three Fitness Standards:

"Crossfit's First Fitness Standard: There are ten recognized general physical skills. They are cardiovascular/respiratory endurance, stamina, strength, flexibility, power,  coordination, agility, balance, and accuracy. (See “General Physical Skills”, pg. 4, for definitions.) You are as fit as you are competent in each of these ten skills. A regimen develops fitness to the extent that it improves each of these ten skills...


Crossfit's Second Fitness Standard: The essence of this model is the view that fitness is about performing well at any and every task imaginable...



Crossfit's Third Fitness Standard: Total fitness, the fitness that CrossFit promotes and develops, requires 
competency and training in each of these three pathways or engines [Phosphagenic, Glycolytic, and Oxadative]...Favoring one or two to the exclusion of the others and not recognizing the impact of excessive training in the oxidative pathway are arguably the two most common faults in fitness training." -- Glassman, Greg. "What Is Fitness", Crossfit Journal, October 2002

The primary Crossfit site is a bit intimidating, however.  The Workout of the Day (WOD) consists of those more appropriate for Olympic weightlifter's and gymnasts.  I can handle the multi-modal sprinter workouts, but the other two scare the hell out of me.  The high school football I mentioned left me with a left shoulder that likes to sublux on occasion.  Skiiing in college left me with a right shoulder that periodically dislocates if I decide to throw a fastball or go up for a rebound in basketball.  And there's something genetic about my body composition that thrusts my left hip out further than my right and dips my right shoulder lower than my left.

I remember trying to do a handstand once in high-school track, just after said football season.  My left shoulder slid out of socket, and I had to do a pseudo Lethal Weapon move to get it back in.  Surgery didn't fully correct my right shoulder problems, and several dislocations later, I've learned that sports that demand upper body strength are simply excluded from my regimen.  The prospect of doing handstand pushups, or handstands for that matter leaves me more than a bit worried.  Olympic weightlifting moves like the snatch and the clean and jerk send my shoulders into nervous spasms just thinking about it.

There are some other oddities about the Crossfit programs, departures from general sport-specific training, but despite the fear of complete shoulder destruction, I'm intrigued.  I'm not so stupid as to think that I can or ever will try some of the WOD's on the Crossfit site, but finding suitable and safe alternatives for my own body quirks might be a workable solution.  It is something they encourage.  With access to most of the required equipment at the YMCA, I may soon turn my attention more seriously to strength training and weightlifting.

I know Meghan won't object to me turning down the mileage and focusing more on cross training.  She's not at all impressed with my desire to run ultras, but as I start to focus my attention at trail running, more minimalist approach to gear, and a heavier focus on cross training, maybe I won't destroy my hips before I'm 50.  Beginning this week, I'll be commuting to work on my bike every chance I can get and continue to incorporate swimming into my workouts.

Now that I have a pretty solid aerobic base, it's time to start looking at interval training, perhaps a bit too late to benefit in time for Grandma's though.  I'm pretty psyched to run the upcoming marathon!  It has been a while since the question of "Can I finish?" turned into "What time will I finish?"  Any finish will be a PR for me, since this is my first Marathon event.  3:45 seems entirely attainable, but who knows. :)  We shall see!

If any of you have had experience with Crossfit or other cross-training programs, please pipe up and let me know how it's working for you!