Simplify and focus

What I realized this week is that I am 39 years old, and I am never going to get good at the collection of hobbies I have been interested in pursuing.  Therefore, I had better pick one thing and focus on getting good at it.  Here's some of the interests and curiousities buzzing around in my head at any given moment.

• I'd kind of like to learn electronics.
• Or woodworking.
• In fact, I'd love to become a Maker.
• I'm in a Spanish class now, and I'd like to speak it fluently.
• I'd love to grow as a homebrewer.
• I wonder if I could learn to draw?
• I want to work on my writing.
• Could I pick up some songs on the ukulele? Or just get better on the bass?
• I need to break out my telescope more.

Notice I don't even mention running or anything related to software development or project management, my chosen profession.  Being curious and interested in lots of things are great when you are 10, or even 20, when your brain is agile, and you've got time.  I'm staring down the barrel of 40, and I've got a kid and a wife and a house to keep up.  After I come home from work, fix dinner, have family time, clean up from dinner, do some laundry, mow the yard, and feed the dog, where is my time for tinkering with an electronics kit or polishing my writing?  Typically, I don't have the energy to even read a book at the end of the day.

No, all I have time, energy, and a budget for is running.  [See? I bury my leads.  I'll never be a great writer.]  So that is my focus right now. I like reading about running, talking about it, experimenting with it. Running will be my craft. When people ask if I have any hobbies, I will say that I am a runner, a collector of marathon medals. If pressed, I will explain that running, for me, isn't just something I do for exercise.  I run like a stamp collector collects stamps.

This week, I ran well.  Heading into the weekend, I have run 14 miles so far on three days, not to mention one cross-training day.  If I am lucky, I will be able to squeeze in a 10 miler.  However, the weather calls for some serious rain and potential flooding, and we have lots of commitments both days.  Whatever happens, happens; but I will be searching for that running opportunity if I have to run in the middle of the night.

Milestones

With the KDF half marathon behind me, I have a summer of choices ahead of me.  In the past, after a big race, I have had that "what now?" malaise.  Not this time.  I know exactly what I need to do this summer.  I need to get in fighting trim for a marathon. I may not have made the statement on these pages that I won't run any more marathons, but I said these foolish words numerous times since Chicago in real life, even to my beloved wife.  Things haven't been right since making that pledge to do nothing.

Even before crossing the finish line Saturday, I knew I had made a mistake signing up for the Half instead of the Full.  When I arrived at the split, I sorely wanted to go right and take that long, lonely slog eastward with the marathoners.  I felt like I was with the wrong crowd.  Physically, of course, I couldn't have gone more than 13.1.  I was barely in sufficient shape to run what I did.  But in my heart, I knew I belonged with the 10% of the runners going the other way.  After the race, as I received my medal for the Half, again I felt like I had run the wrong race.  I saw the racks of marathon medals and grew covetous.  I felt a visceral avarice I had never felt before.  I saw proud, trim runners wearing theirs around the post-race party and had to look the other way. 

Another thing I noticed was when I crossed the finish line, my thoughts were different from when I had finished my two marathons.  I thought, "Whew, that's done. Where's the beer tent?"  I'll never regain the jubilation and relief of finishing my first one.  Heading toward that finish line, I couldn't stop the tears.  I was invincible.  Even after the second one, I had such sense of pride and accomplishment that I didn't come down from the clouds for days.  I don't get those sensations anywhere else in my life. 

And putting all this together in my mind, I've come to one conclusion.  I am a fool not to run marathons.  I don't have much courage or self-confidence most of the time, but when I'm running?  I can do running.  I pwn running.  I can run marathons.  I'm not the fastest; I'm not the slowest.  Yet, I can run and run and run and cross finish lines.  Running lets me be good at something most people cannot imagine trying. 

So looking ahead to summer, I have some trail races to keep me honest, but those are just milestones on a larger path.  What am I really doing this summer?  I am a marathoner; therefore, I am training for a marathon.

KDF Mini Marathon Race Report

This was a big race, and I had a lot of fun, so I will get right to it.

The good

• The weather concerned me all week. Thunderstorms and hail and even tornadoes were possible.  Even as late at the morning of the race, all sorts of ugliness was in the forecast.  So, bedecked in my finest black trash bag, I headed to work, where I could safely and conveniently park, and walked over to the shuttle bus area. At that time of morning, it was drizzling, but since the temperature was mild, it wasn't uncomfortable to me.  As race time drew near, the drizzle cleared up. And as the miles ticked by, the sun even peeked out.  I worried about getting a sunburn since I didn't apply sunscreen, thinking I'd be running in a thunderstorm.  The fine weather held out through the morning until I finally left the post-race party.
• The faithful Louisville crowds came out, albeit in smaller numbers, despite the lousy weather.  All along the course, there were enthusiastic cheering throngs, a few crazy urban outdoors-men, and a lots of bands and DJs.  In fact, around where the course passes under I-264, the DJ was blasting out James Brown, and that was the first and only time during the race I wanted to stop.  Great stuff.
• Speaking of good people, a buddy had a beer check for us after mile 11.  That was perfect timing and much appreciated, even though it was Bud Light.  Thanks Kotex.  On the subject of beer, I wish we could get a yummier beer provider than Michelob Ultra for the beer tent. The Chicago marathon had Goose Island.  But free beer is free beer and it was cold so I was grateful.  Thanks!
• Once again, the engravers were right there and did a first rate job carving our times into the medals.  Thanks!  

The bad

• I don't think there were sufficient shuttles for the 15,000 runners.  The lines for the buses stretched around the block, and even toward the end, seemed to loop around themselves in a city-block sized spiral. We nervously watched the time as their advertised time for the end of shuttle service approached.  Would we make it? Would runners get left behind?  In the nick of time, I made it onto a shuttle, but last year, arriving at the same time, I walked right onto a bus.  I don't know what the difference was this year, but that was not a good way to start our day.
• I don't think there were sufficient bathrooms for us in the starting area.  I arrived 40 minutes before the starting gun, and the lines were out of control.  But I figured (wrongly) that I had sufficient time.  It took about 50 minutes to get to the head of the line, and behind me there was a line at least as long.  I started the race 12 minutes late, but since it was chip-timed, it didn't matter.  Still, it was more stress.
• In response to complaints and construction going on downtown, the race organizers famously changed the course this year.  One big change was the approach into Iroquois Park, and that was well done.  No longer were runners running into each other coming and going.  But the changes downtown were mostly bad.  I didn't mind the long run eastward from 7th, but we got looped around between two construction sites.  Not only was it ugly in there, the road constricted uncomfortably.  I realize the construction was out of the race officials' hands, but I still think it was unpleasant for an event meant to showcase how wonderful Louisville is.
• The chute was a mess.  We were shunted through one of our waterfront parks to another adjacent one, and that was OK, but all anybody wanted was the beer tent and the runner reunite area.  That area was a quarter mile away or more.  Plus, once we got there, the beer line bisected the rectangle of the park area where the post-race party was. Therefore, you couldn't go north or south without crossing the beer line, which is annoying for all involved.

I finished the day with a time of 2:28'05", which was not great, but it was as much as I could expect given how poorly I trained.  Seriously, I averaged 10-12 miles all winter, and there were several weeks of zero miles.  I got what I deserved.  Though I walked more than I would have liked, I finished.  Up until the end, I ran joyfully.  I ended up running with the hope of the next walking break [every two miles].  I practiced running meditation, I practiced shortening my stride and increasing my turnover on uphills, and a practiced running joyfully.  A mantra I repeated often was "I get to run today!"  Another was "This is great!"  I approached the race as a training run rather than a competition with myself. That helped me make good out of a poor performance. Being someone who's had depression his whole life, staying positive was a hard exercise, but I am pleased with how I did.

That's the bottom line.  I am pleased with how I did.  Clearly I could have trained better and raced better, but I didn't and everything still worked out.  Life is good.

Bring it on

Yesterday, I went to the KDF Marathon/Mini-Marathon expo to pick up my race packet.  The expo was fairly typical for this event, but as I wasn't in the market for any new running gear, I passed through it fairly quickly.  The race packet itself is worth discussing.

• Shirts - Both shirts were technical tees.  I'm so happy about that.  I have no use for cotton race shirts. Since I signed up through work, who graciously paid my entry fee, I am part of a Team Challenge.  Since my coworkers and I aren't running together or anything, the only practical effect of this is that I got an extra t-shirt in addition to the race shirt everybody gets.  Runners in the Half got white shirts, and runners doing the full got cooler looking black ones.  I didn't know ahead of time the shirts would be tech tees, so I ordered an XL.  I prefer Large tech tees, so I asked the volunteers if I could switch.  The awesome lady at the team challenge table let me; the mean old rules-lawyer at the other table didn't.  Now I have one shirt that fits well, and another I can use for a tent.
• Paper - My packet was filled with the usual crap, slick ads for other races and whatnot.  I wish you could either opt out of these things, or I wish there was a way to recycle them at the expo.  What about a virtual race packet where you get all that crap via email?  Almost all of this printed matter ended up in my recycle bin at home.  Not very Earth Day, race people.  :( 
• Bib number - My bib number is 7814, Corral B.  The chips are taped to the bib, and so there isn't that logjam at the end of the race to cut off timing chips.  I love that.  Whatever cuts down on delays in the chute and gets me to the beer tent sooner, I am in favor of.  On the back of the bib, there's a form for filling out all sorts of emergency information, which is also smart.  I have to remember to do that.  Plus, there's a free "beer" coupon [Mick Ultra... ick], gear check tag, and a Subway coupon.  I also received a wrist band to get me into the Corporate Tent, whatever that is.  Perhaps there will be free beer in that, too.
• Goodies - Also included in the gear check bag was a small tube of Shave Secret, which I use and love.  Also included was a small bottle of Rohto Cool eye drops.  I tried the eye drops this morning, and they made my eyes burn with the heat of a thousand suns.  Not recommended.

That's it.  Now, all I have to do is eat well for the rest of the day, drink lots of water, and get some sleep tonight.  Easy peasy.  The weather report for tomorrow calls for rain and possibly thunderstorms.  But the low will be 61°, so at least I won't be wet and cold.  When we speak again, I will have a race report.

Dude, do you need some real shoes?

I had this mental agreement with myself that I would post Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and as my pillow swallowed my head and I drifted off to dreamland, I remembered that I didn't post yesterday, April 21.  Sorry, Teeming-Millions-of-Reader-in-My-Head.  I'll try to do better.

As I mentioned last time, I am chugging down gallons of the Born to Run Kool Aid.  I'm drinking the chia fresca, which I am loving, and now I have the shoes.  Yes, in Monday's mail, straight from Invisible Shoes, came a square-foot of Vibram sole material and about 12 feet of purple nylon cord.  I'm a cobbler now.  Or at least I was for about an hour the other night. 

What I assembled was the white man's version of Tarahumara huaraches, the running sandals mentioned in Born to Run.  I was so excited to give them a go that I hastily looked up the instructions and got to work.  The instructions on the website were easy to follow and the video demonstrations were absolutely key.  After about an hour and a half, I had a pair of sandals I had made with my own two hands.  With the lessons learned from my first pair, I'm confident I could bust out other pairs in a half hour or less with almost any material, but I don't think I want to make a hobby or career out of this.

Monday night, I struggled to get to sleep, so excited was I to run in these cheap bastards.  When my alarm went off at 5:00, I [figuratively] leaped out of bed, grabbed my gear, and drove to the park.  So, what was it like to run in Cherokee Park with two pieces of rubber lashed to my feet?  In short, not bad.  This is the week of the KDF Half Mini Marathon, so I needed to take it easy, but I also wanted to do some hills.  Cherokee Park's 2.4 mile scenic loop is perfect for that sort of workout.  I did the first loop in my usual Nike Free 5.0s.  Then I switched over to huaraches.

Running on the pavement was jarring at first, as you could imagine, but with each footfall my body quickly and unconsciously made adjustments to stride, foot strike, and posture.  Within 50 feet, I was comfortably approaching the first hill.  And with that, I immediately starting thinking about the descent because I'm sure I am prone to heel striking on the downhills.  However, my body knew what to do.  Just as I glided up the hill, I coasted down the hill just as comfortably.  My first 2.5 miles with the huaraches were a lot of fun.  And it was 5:30 AM, so there wasn't anybody around to make fun of me.


That evening, I did notice that I had a small blister between my first two toes where the cord attaches to the front of the sandal.  Also, the cord rubbed a raw patch about 8 millimeters in diameter on my instep.  These were friction injuries caused by the cord being too tight.  I made adjustments and walked around with the sandals yesterday, and I noticed immediate improvement.

Why am I doing this?  I must make running interesting.  Part of that struggle is internal, and I am working on techniques to improve my attitude, but the stuff outside my skull helps too.  I have to try new courses, new trails, and new gear to keep my enthusiasm up.  I just can't do the same thing day in, day out.  I get bored, and for me, boredom is death.  So it's fun for me to try some new hippy shoe fad or some new trail through a different part of town.  If it isn't fun, why do it?  Running with new groups of people is another way I am keeping things fresh, but that is a post for another day.

You're drinking what?

Like everyone else who has read and was inspired by Born to Run, I thought to myself, "Hey, if I can live more like a Tarahumara, then I would be able to run forever and like-the-wind even though I am a pot-bellied middle-class gringo from Kentucky." OK, I didn't actually think that, but that's the gist of it.  [I'm such an idiot.]  OK, so I read the part in the book about iskiate -- chia fresca -- and ran out and bought some chia seeds at a health food store.  That was a revelation, because I found iskiate to be a delicious summer drink.  If you can get over the tactile sensation that you're drinking a glass of frog eggs with the consistency of mucus, iskiate is refreshing and delicious.  So far, though, I haven't felt like a super-runner.  However, I have felt pretty good, and I have been as regular as an atomic clock.  You know, downstairs.  Tons of fiber in iskiate, apparently.


Then there's my other boneheaded purchase.  I've bought a kit for making my own Tarahumara-style huaraches from Invisible Shoe, but Barefoot Ted also sells them at his store with more options for materials.  I was initially attracted to the Invisible Shoe store because he has instructional videos on how to construct them and lace them.  But Ted sells leather soles and laces if you are interested in a more authentic look.  Maybe, if I like my first pair, I will try the leathers later on, but I am skeptical so I went cheap this time around. 

Bottom line, in a day or two, I am going to get a package containing the elements of these sandals, and I will assemble them and take them for a test run.

I know what you are thinking.  Idiota.

YOU: Ed, you're missing an important point. These people subsist at the fringes of a harsh environment and have been ultra-long distance runners for centuries.  You are a doughy European-American raised on air conditioning and high fructose corn syrup.
ME:  I know, I know!
YOU:  You can't just expect to strap piece of plastic onto your feet with nylon cord, eat some seeds, and run like a Tarahumara.
ME:  I know! Get out of my head!
YOU:  These people have been conditioned since toddlerhood and for generations to do what they do.  They run for fun, and they run to get where they are going.  Every day, they run.  You drive an SUV to the grocery that's one kilometer away for chrissakes.  What next?  Are you going to make that corn beer they drink at their desert rave parties?
ME:  Now that you mention it, there has to be a recipe for that online.

Anyway, for your entertainment, I will post my experiences once I have them.

Pontificating

Like many other runners in the world, I have picked up a copy of Born to Run by Christopher McDougall.  I'm a hundred pages or so into it, and McDougall has my brain buzzing.  What follows are some unformed thoughts, random ideas, lumpy observations.  Don't expect answers -- just questions.

So in this book, he's seeking this tribe of indigenous Mexicans, the Tarahumara, who have this incredible culture of long distance running.  Like many other cultures around the world, now and in pre-history, running isn't something they do three times a week with a heart monitor and $100 shoes.  Running is how they get from place to place.  Running is their entertainment.  It's their sport and a big slice of their culture.  From the time they are children, they run incredibly long distances.  And they do it in a dry, unforgiving part of the world eating a mean diet and wearing sandals.

This, coupled with an article I just read in Runners' World got me thinking.  There are fundamental errors in the way I think about running that hold me back.  I think it was Sinbad who told a story about white people and dancing.  Folks of less pale complexion just dance.  White people rise from their seat -- the place of sitting -- and walk across the room -- the place of walking -- to the dance floor, where dancing occurs.  Then, when the song is over, they stop dancing and walk back to their seats.  Over here, we sit; over here, we dance.  The point: some of us tend to compartmentalize and fragment our lives to an unhealthy extent.

Therefore, we have times of the day when we run.  We have special clothes and shoes for this activity. It starts, it happens, and then it ends.  The conditions have to be right.  I don't like running in the rain or on a full stomach. Sometimes I won't run if I forgot my running socks.  Of course, I don't think I am headed toward the idea of running anywhere at any time in any gear I happen to be wearing.  [Or am I?]  I mean, if I ran from home to work -- say -- in my work clothes, sat down in my cubicle, and worked the day all stinky, there would be consequences.  Our culture has strict norms of cleanliness and scent that encourage compartmentalizing exercise over there -- you do that over there, and come back after you shower. 

Maybe we are wrong.

I don't believe that we evolved -- through tens of thousands of years of running and chasing our food or running and avoiding becoming food or running to kill those other people taking our food or running to steal those other people's food -- in order to sit in cubicles all day and on couches all night watching TV.  I agree with others that we were born to run and be active constantly, and this thought is very much on my mind right now.  How do I integrate this idea into my life?

Getting back on track

My running funk have turned a corner because I realized, as I ran my three-miler late this morning, that I would rather be running than doing anything else (besides hanging out with my wife and my daughter, which has a strangle-hold on first place on my list of druthers.)  I certainly preferred running, on an ozone alert day even, to sitting in a cubicle, staring at a computer monitor.  Oh, if I could only get paid [what I get paid now] to run!  How awesome would that be?  Unfortunately, it seems you have to run really fast do live that dream, unless your name is John Bingham, who still runs faster than I.

Spring is the season for day dreaming and planning and marvelling at Possibility.  What races will I run this summer?  How many trail miles can I log before winter?  What will be my big running goals for 2010, now one-third over?  Would Amy and Dan put me up if I decide to run the Flying Pig next May?  Which of my other friends live in or near cities with big races I'd like to run in? 

Recent Victories: 

1. Yesterday, I could have slacked off, since my legs were somewhat sore from Monday's fiver, but instead I chose to do 30 minutes on a bike.  
2. Today, I could have chosen not to run because my late morning commitment ran long, and I had to return to my desk by noon to take a call, leaving me little time for running.  Instead of doing nothing, I easily squeezed in three miles and made all my work commitments.  

A week or two ago, I would have made the wrong choices, but now I think I am back on track. Oh yeah, speaking of track, I need to think about re-starting my track workouts.

Re-training

I know, I know.  I make a big announcement saying that I am going to do a more consistent job posting, and then I disappear for a week.  I thought about writing, but I was on vacation where internet access was precious and spotty.  I spent a lovely week in central Florida with my in-laws wherein I took long walks, fished a little, enjoyed a couple days at New Smyrna Beach, and even ran a few times.  But all you care about is the running.

I managed to run three times while on vacation, which is remarkable for me.  I am known for bringing my running gear on vacation, and then letting my go-fasters collect dust while I sip fancy drinks and grow fat.  This time, though, I actually ran, though much less than I planned.  Much less than I wanted and needed, too.  Running in Florida this time of year is great because it isn't too hot yet, and the bugs aren't quite so dense.  I ran 30 minutes barefoot on the beach, and enjoyed the heck out of that, especially the beer check about 20 minutes in.

But I am in a strange place with my running. My desire to run is at odds with how fat and out of shape I have gotten.  I want to push, but I get out of breath.  I want to run more often, but I need to recover.  I want to do six, but I can only manage four.  And all too often, the urge to be naughty -- to slack off and try again tomorrow -- wins out over the desire to be disciplined. 


I'm struggling.

Spammers be gone

I hate to do this, but I have turned on comment moderation.  I've been getting more spam comments than I'd prefer.  If you are a human being, don't worry.  I'll publish your comment just as soon as I can.  If  you are a robot trying to shove hot, stringy wads of porn down my readers' throats, then it is on!

Mech Warrior 4 Mech Paks: Clan Arsenal

BTW, that's supposed to be me in that battle-mech.  Bring it, spambots!