A Long Run Throwback

Until today, my handful of long runs this year have been on the very flat, Washington and Old Dominion Trail in Virginia. In fact, there isn’t a significant hill to be found on the stretch from Shrilington out to Falls Church. Plus, I did these runs under the careful supervision of Anne, who would ride her bike to pace me, and also carry Gatorade that I could gulp at any time. I was in heaven. I was spoiled. I was on easy street.

Since Anne is out-of-town for the holidays, I decided to do today’s long run along a classic course I developed years ago, the brutal Capital Crescent-Wisconsin Ave route. And I ran it with my other running friend Kate (yes, I have two friends named Kate) who is a speed demon and pushes me to my limits. We started out this morning in front of Barnes and Noble, making our way down the 7 miles of the Capital Crescent Trail into Georgetown. So far, so good. I was a little tired and a bit overheated since I over-layered again, but once we reached M Street in Georgetown, I was feeling okay.

Then the madness began. We hooked a left on Wisconsin Avenue to go straight back to Bethesda. It’s only 6 miles, but it’s the most difficult 6 mile stretch anywhere I’ve ever run. You basically run from sea level to over 400 feet asl in three incredibly steep hills. To put this in perspective, the famous Heartbreak Hill on the Boston Marathon course is only 88 feet. The first hill from Georgetown to Glover Park was tough. I struggled mightily; my legs were tired, my breathing was heavy, and I wanted to give up. Thankfully, after the first hill, we stopped at a CVS for Gatorade. Then it was on to the next hill, which goes from Glover Park, past the Russian Embassy, and up to the Cathedral area. Maybe it was the Gatorade and quick rest that helped, but I handled that hill just fine. Kate and I continued our journey on Wisconsin, through Tenley/AU and Friendship Heights. When we reached the Maryland line, I knew I was in trouble. I had no energy whatsoever, and there was one last big hill to climb to get back to Bethesda. I told Kate, half joking, half serious, that I wanted to quit. She wouldn’t let me. Somehow I made it back to Bethesda, but by the time we finished, I couldn’t run another foot.

Although I’m very sore and extremely tired, I feel as if today was yet another step toward getting back to my old running self. Running with Kate along an old, tried and true route made the last two years of surgery and rehab seem like a distant memory. I like that feeling.

Final Race of 2008

Yesterday’s Jingle all the Way 10k marked my 8th and final race of the year. From outward appearances, I did pretty well, finishing in 47 minutes, 59 seconds, for an average of 7 minutes, 43 seconds per mile. Not a bad way to end the year, and it certainly shows I have come a long way in my comeback from injury. Just a year ago, I couldn’t run for more than 20 seconds at a time. Yet, I was somewhat disappointed with the result; I could've done better. So what happened?

First, I was too layered. The temperature yesterday morning was chilly, about 30 degrees at the start of the race. Now in past years, I would’ve worn shorts and a long sleeved t-shirt, nothing else. Why? Because one of my big rules of running has been to dress like it’s 20 degrees warmer than the actual temperature. For whatever reason, I decided to layer up yesterday, wearing long running pants, a t-shirt and then a long sleeved shirt, plus a running jacket to boot. By mile 2, I was overheating big-time, but because I had my bib pinned to my jacket, I couldn’t de-layer. Second, I was tired. Instead of relaxing the night before the race, I stressed and worried about the conditions for the race, and consequently did not sleep well and got maybe 5 hours total.

Last but not least, I was too heavy. For a year after ankle surgery, I wasn’t really able to exercise on a regular basis, and as a result I gained some weight, about 15 pounds to be exact. Most people haven’t noticed, and I don’t exactly look heavy or obese, but it does impact my running stamina. I’ve already lost 5 of those pounds, but I still need to drop another 10 before the marathon.

I’ve worked extremely hard during my comeback and it really is paying off. My fitness is improving each and every week, which is reflected in my improving race times. What’s frustrating, however, is that I’m really close to getting back to my old, pre-injury self, but I’m not quite there yet. There’s no doubt in my mind that if I had been well rested, dressed in fewer layers, and weighed less, I could’ve finished yesterday’s race in about 45 minutes. That’s the kind of time I used to clock with ease prior to injury. Some people might say that I shouldn’t be so negative, that I’ve come so far since 2007, and to take the long view. I’m probably about 90% back, but sometimes it’s the last 10%, that final push over the goal line, to borrow a term from football, that is the most difficult. Nonetheless, I’m very confident that I’ll pick-up those last few yards (unlike my pathetic Redskins yesterday against Cincinnati) and will make a big score next March at the National Marathon.

2009 Race Schedule

This is the time of year when we start planning out the new year, and I’ve just finished developing a preliminary 2009 race schedule. The big highlight is the Sun Trust National Marathon on March 21st here in Washington. All of the other races are ones I’ve done before, and there are some particular classics I look forward to running like the Broad Street Run in Philadelphia and the Army 10 Miler. I may add or subtract a race or two, but for the most part, this is how my 2009 is shaping up.

03/21/09 – Sun Trust National Marathon
04/26/09 – Pike’s Peek 10k
05/03/09 – Broad Street Run
06/13/09 – Lawyers Have a Heart 10k
07/04/09 – Potomac 5k
08/30/09 – Annapolis 10 Mile Run
09/20/09 – Philadelphia Distance Run
10/04/09 – Army 10 Miler
11/22/09 – Philadelphia Marathon

It's Freakin Freezing!

Winter has arrived early here in the Washington, DC, metro area. There were brief snow showers today that moved through downtown DC, and tomorrow’s high is expected to reach a balmy 38, but with the good old windchill, it will feel like it’s in the 20’s. Perfect running weather, not! In the immortal words of Dr. Evil in the first Austin Powers movie, it’s freakin freezing in here!

Now I don’t mind running in cold weather. In fact, my fastest races generally have been when the weather is cold. The temperature at the start of the 2002 Chicago Marathon was 34 and the mercury only made it up a few degrees more by the end of the race. However, the wind was pretty calm and the sun was out, which made for pretty racing conditions. Here in DC, however, we’ve had the unfortunate combination of cold weather and lots of wind, which makes an early evening run feel like an excursion into Antarctica.

What to do? Dress in layers, lots of layers. Most experts recommend that runners wear a base of “high tech” material, a shirt that “wicks” away moisture, followed by either a similar type layer, and finished off with a running jacket or shell. Well, there’s the recommended way, and then there’s the Matt way.

As I prepared to go out for my run last night, I started with a cotton t-shirt, followed by a long-sleeved cotton shirt, followed by a good ole fashion sweatshirt. No high tech materials. No fancy synthetic micro-fiber shirts to wick away moisture. Nope, I went old school, Rocky Balboa-style. I actually own a few pieces of this new fangled high tech running gear, which I always wear for races, but when it comes to training runs and getting back into shape, there’s nothing like going back to basics. Tomorrow morning during my tempo run in Siberia-like conditions, the gray sweatshirt will make another appearance.

Running Shoes and Throw Momma from the Train

I keep a fair share of running shoes around my apartment, about eight pairs right now (see below). Most are retired from active duty, except for my sweet pair of Asics GT-2130’s (also see below) with the Superfeet inserts for additional support. Running shoes, more than any other item, are essential for running. A good pair will keep you pain free, injury free, and hopefully blister free. All of us have a different preference; I’ve tried Nike’s, but they caused knee pain. New Balance gave me horrible blisters. Brooks, Mizuno, and Saucony just don’t fit right and Reebok has never done it for me. That leaves me with Asics, the Japanese brand that uses gel for cushion. These bad boys always are comfortable, never cause blisters, and never let me down.

You may ask why on earth I keep old pairs of shoes. The 1987 classic comedy movie Throw Momma from the Train, starring Danny DeVito and Billy Crystal, provides the answer. About midway through the movie, DeVito wants to show Crystal his coin collection, which consisted of a bunch of random coins ---- quarters, nickels, dimes, etc. Crystal looks incredulously at DeVito wondering what was so special about the coins. Then DeVito takes out a specific quarter, identifying it by the year, and explains that the quarter was change from a ball game at Yankee Stadium that he went to in his youth with his dad. Each coin had a similar story and memory.

In the same way, my shoes look like nothing more than a pile of worn out, well, shoes. When I look at my shoes, though, I see more than laces and cushion, insoles and arch support. What I see is my running history and lots of memories --- finishing my first marathon in Chicago, setting a personal record in the half marathon in New York, walking for the first time after surgery, running the first race in my comeback. Sometimes when my motivation is low and I don’t feel like going out for a run, I’ll look at my old pairs of shoes and usually within a few seconds I’m out the door and making new memories that will last for years to come.

Eight pairs, all Asics!

The Asics GT-2130s

Dispatches from the Road: Phoenix

As most of you know, I tend to do a fair amount of traveling for my job --- about 10-20 trips a year. This week I’m in Phoenix for a three-day conference and am staying at the Arizona Grand Resort, replete with golf courses, pools, and a water park. It’s quite a nice venue, so nice in fact, that the Arizona Cardinals stayed here last night before their big game tonight against the San Francisco 49ers (it’s a real site to see 330 pound offensive linemen and 250 pound linebackers walking around your hotel).

Anytime I travel for work, I try to get in a few runs, and this trip is no different, except for the fact that Phoenix is basically located in the desert. There’s lots of cactus, palm trees, and golf courses. There’s also lots of little creatures wandering all over the place that I’d rather like to avoid --- snakes, scorpions, things we as runners normally don’t have to contend with running the DC area.

Somehow during yesterday’s run, I managed to avoid all those nasty little critters. I did, however, see some beautiful rock formations and lots and lots of golf courses. There are also tons of strip malls and retirement communities. My impression of Phoenix is that it’s sort of like Florida, only in the desert. Bring on the 3 pm early bird specials!

I have found that running while on travel provides me an opportunity to see and explore a new city or area, and I normally take away something memorable from each of my runs. In Seattle it was the beauty of Puget Sound, in San Francisco the impressive Golden Gate Bridge, and in Chicago the amazing skyline. What I’ll remember most from my runs in Phoenix is the sign I saw outside a church yesterday, which read: HEAVEN IS NO TRICK, HELL IS NO TREAT. I bet most kids avoided that church on Halloween.

More Photos from the Rockville 10K

The photographers were out at yesterday's Rockville 10k. This was the first time I ever wore sunglasses during a race. Given how well I did, this might turn into a tradition.

Before the Race

Nearing the finish line

Rockville 10K - It's Morning Again

It's morning again in my running world. Today I am running faster and more often than ever since my surgery. With a newly strengthened ankle, I’ve run six races already this year and am scheduled to run two more. Yesterday morning in Rockville, I ran a 10k in 49 minutes, 5 seconds, a time much faster than anything I’ve run this year at a comparable distance, and with this improving trend, I can look forward with confidence to the future. It's morning again in my running world, and with tons of hard work, training, and rehab, all under the supervision of my personal trainer Anne, my running is stronger and better than at anytime in the last two years.

(For those of you who don’t “get” this post, it’s a take-off on Ronald Reagan’s popular “Morning in America” tv ad from his 1984 re-election campaign. The picture above is from yesterday’s race and I’m the runner on the left hand side wearing a long sleeve shirt and sun glasses.)

Welcome SunTrust National Marathon Runners

Through the miracle of google or some other search engine, the folks at the Greater Washington Sports Alliance, organizers of the SunTrust National Marathon, found out about my difficulties with the Los Angeles Marathon and kindly offered me a complimentary registration to the race here in DC. In addition, they have made me a “featured runner” and will highlight my training, reasons for running, etc. I am flattered beyond words that they think my story is interesting enough to share with the broader running community. More importantly though, is the opportunity this presents to increase awareness of pancreatic cancer and raise additional money for the Lorenzen Cancer Foundation, the charity I’m running on behalf of to support Kate in her battle with stage four pc. For those visitors who found my site through the SunTrust National Marathon email, I’ve pasted my first blog entry below so you can understand the purpose of this blog and why I’m running. Please feel free to read through old blog entries and of course provide feedback. Welcome!

Monday, June 30, 2008
Welcome
On a clear, unseasonably mild, Saturday afternoon back in January 2007, I experienced the nightmare of every avid runner --- injury. One minute I'm running 7 minute miles and dreaming of a run at a Boston qualifying time, the next I'm limping back home on a bum ankle hoping against hope that the pain is temporary, a small bump on the road to marathon glory. Well, after two rounds of x-rays, six weeks of physical therapy, and no diagnosis, the orthopedist ordered an MRI, and as I suspected, a serious underlying problem was discovered, the dreaded ganglion cyst. No, this wasn't life threatening, but it took away my life as a runner, at least for the time being.

The only option to get back to running was surgery, and not an easy one. Because of the location of the cyst, an arthroscopic procedure was out of the question. Nope, I was in for good old fashion open surgery. And so it went. On June 1, 2007, I underwent a 2+ hour surgical procedure at Sibley Memorial Hospital in Northwest Washington, DC, to remove the cyst, clean up some scar tissue, and get me back on the road to running. The expected recovery time was six weeks, but as it turns out, the procedure was much more complicated than originally anticipated, my body didn't react well, and it's taken over a year to recover.

I'm writing this blog to chronicle the challenges of recovering from surgery, getting back into shape, and training for a marathon, the 2009 Los Angeles Marathon, as well as to share my passion for the sport of running, which has made such a positive impact on my life.

But what about the last part of the title, raising money? At the same time I sustained the ankle injury, my friend Kate (who got me into all this running non-sense in the first place over 10 years ago) was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. She is fighting pc really hard, going through treatment, and not only surviving, but living as full a life as possible. I admire her strength and fight, and want to support her as she goes through this difficult period. And in that spirit, I am raising money for my marathon run in L.A. to support the Lorenzen Pancreatic Cancer Foundation. Donations can be made at the following webiste: http://www.active.com/donate/pancreaticadedicat08/beatpc. Also, for a look at Kate's inspirational blog as she fights pc, go to http://www.katethaxton.com/survivingpc/.

Thanks for taking the time to read this post and I look forward to sharing with you the trials and tribulations of training for 26.2

A Friend Goes Down to Injury

I have written extensively about what it’s like to experience and recover from a difficult orthopedic injury. Unfortunately, my good friend Mike has just fallen to a horrible sports injury, a snapped Achilles tendon. Mike was playing flag football last week, heard a pop, and fell to the ground. Shortly later at the hospital, Mike got the bad news: his Achilles tendon had snapped in two and he underwent emergency surgery the next day to have the tendon repaired. For two months, Mike will be in a cast and unable to put any weight on his right leg. He will then undergo physical therapy. Total expected recovery time is 6 months. To make matters worse, Mike just started business school and has two children under the age of three, including a precious one month old little baby girl. Needless to say, Mike’s wife has her hands full. I can definitely sympathize with Mike’s situation and wish him a speedy recovery!

Appreciation

As I was eating my delicious fried chicken dinner on Saturday night at Jacques-Imo’s in New Orleans, a feeling of appreciation came over me. For almost the first 32 years of my life, I took for granted being able to walk and run, to live my life without a care in the world; disease, pain, and adversity --- those were things that happen to other people, not to me, and not to my friends. Life just seemed to float by without major upheavals. Sure I had my ups and downs, like everybody, but overall life was good.

Injuring my ankle, having surgery, and going through a difficult recovery has changed my perspective. Not being able to walk for almost two months, and thinking at one point that I was sentenced to a lifetime of pain, will have an impact.

What I appreciate now, in a way I never could two years ago, are the little things in life --- a simple get together with my parents, a night out with my friends, a walk on the beach, sitting on a park bench and reading the newspaper. What I appreciate the most, however, is good health. My ankle is fully healed, I’m running again and training for a marathon, and I have no major health issues whatsoever. I’m fortunate, I’m lucky, and I know it.

Unfortunately, there are others in life who aren’t so lucky, people like Kate. The other day I was reading her blog and listening to the audio interview she gave to the New York Times. She is fighting her heroic battle against cancer not only by going through medical treatments, but also through her determination to keep doing the little things --- working, going to the grocery store, the activities we all take for granted as the normal part of life. She does this with great wit and humor, as evidenced by her inspiring blog.

Ankle injuries don’t come close to cancer, not by a long shot. However, having gone through my own little health struggle has given me a better perspective and appreciation of just how important our little routines are in life. In fact, I would argue it's the little things that are the essence of life, though we may not always realize it until we have them taken away from us.

California Dreaming? Try California Nightmare!

When I started this blog, it was intended among other things to chronicle my training for the Los Angeles Marathon, scheduled for March 1, 2009. I’ve registered for the race, bought a plane ticket, booked a hotel room, and made plans to visit friends while out in sunny Cali.

However, in the immortal words of ESPN football analyst Lee Corso, NOT SO FAST MY FRIEND! Today, I went to the Los Angeles Marathon website to check out the race course, and there was an announcement that the date of the race has been changed from March 1st to President’s Day, February 16th.

A few thoughts…..

The organizers of the marathon did not notify those who had already registered of the date change nor did they provide an explanation. Simple courtesy and business ethics dictates such minimal steps. Although a two week change might not seem like a big deal, the fact is that training for a marathon requires months of planning. I won’t bore you with the details, but I specifically chose the Los Angeles Marathon because I knew it would allow me enough time to properly train for the race. Even a two week change totally screws up my training schedule, not to mention my travel arrangements.

What to do?

I have one of three options: (1) re-arrange all my travel and training and run the Los Angeles Marathon in February; (2) find a different marathon to run that will fit my training schedule; or (3) not run a marathon at all.

Options one and three are not options at all. I will not re-arrange my travel and training, moreover my work schedule makes it nearly impossible for me to run on 2/16. As for not running a marathon at all, ABSOLUTELY NOT. I am running to support my friend Kate in her battle with cancer, and I’m running to prove to myself that I’m finally over my ankle injury. There's no turning back.

Believe it or not, there is hope --- the National Marathon, right here in good old Washington, DC. As it turns out, the National Marathon is scheduled for March 21st, a little bit later than March 1st, but it's never a bad thing to have more time to prepare. Disaster averted, training schedule in tact, all is well with the world. And a big bonus, those of you who live in the DC area can now come out and watch me run. I guess there really is a silver lining in every situation.

Kate in the New York Times

I commend to readers a piece that appears in the New York Times online that features personal stories of cancer patients. One of the individuals is my friend Kate, the very Kate I’m running to support in her battle with pancreatic cancer. Rather than bloviate, I think Kate’s compelling story requires no more words from me. Click here to listen to Kate in her own words; she is the third person down on the page.

(If you haven’t made a donation to the Lorenzen Cancer Foundation, please consider doing so and visit my fundraising website)

Yo Adrian, I Did It!

Ok, so I didn’t win the heavyweight championship of the world on Sunday in Philadelphia, but I did finish the Philadelphia Distance Run, one of the nation’s premier half marathons. Only a year earlier, I was in Philadelphia hobbling around on my bum right ankle. I remember vividly the struggle of walking from my hotel near the Philadelphia Convention Center to the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum. Several times I had to stop and rest my poor foot for a few minutes, and when I eventually reached the Art Museum, it took me more than 5 minutes to struggle up the steps made famous by Sylvester Stallone in the Rocky movies.

This past Sunday was quite a different story. I had intended to use the Distance Run as a training run; I wasn’t going to run for time. In fact, I had agreed ahead of time with Anne the personal trainer that I would take it easy and try to finish in about 2 hours and 10 minutes. For better or worse, when I started the race I couldn’t help myself. The beginning of the race went straight down the Ben Franklin Parkway along the same route I struggled so hard to walk just a year earlier. I was overwhelmed with the sense that I had come so far in my recovery, and to prove to myself just how far I had come, I decided to adopt my own strategy, run as fast as possible for as long as possible. My pace quickened considerably, and before I realized it, I had whipped through the first 10 miles more than 3 minutes faster than I had finished the Annapolis 10 Miler just a month earlier. By mile 11, I was in position to finish in about 1 hour, 50 minutes, just about a normal time for me at the half marathon distance. However, my left knee started to ache just a tiny bit, at which point I knew I needed to pull back and slow down. My knee is fine, but my body was not used to running full throttle after over a year layoff. Even after slowing down, I still finished in 1 hour, 54 minutes, 33 seconds, almost in the top 1/3 of all finishers.

Running the Philadelphia Distance Run takes me further down the road to recovery. Certainly compared to a year ago, I have made huge strides, and with some hard work and sensible training, I will reach my goal of running, and finishing, the Los Angeles Marathon next March.

Dispatches from the Road: Austin

One of the challenges of training for a marathon is running your weekly mileage no matter what your schedule. Family obligations, chores, work; all these can be impediments to the runner training for 26.2. One obstacle that can really throw a monkey wrench into training is the dreaded business trip. Often less than 48 hours, the business trip can constrain even the most dedicated of runners --- meetings, boring panel discussions and presentations, the obligatory schmoozing over lunch and/or dinner, it can eat up all of your time. Yet, the business trip also provides an opportunity, a chance to run and take in the scenery of a totally new and unfamiliar place. Over the years, I’ve traveled all over the country for business to places like Chicago (see previous post), Seattle, New Orleans, San Francisco, Las Vegas, Hilton Head, Oklahoma City, Miami, Boston, and New York. I can still remember running along San Francisco Bay toward the Golden Gate Bridge and seeing Alcatraz in the distance. Running along Puget Sound in Seattle was an unforgettable experience --- the peace, tranquility and beauty still are deeply etched in my memory.

This past week I had a quick business trip to Austin. Y’all know that Texas has the biggest and best of everything. Just ask a native Texan, they’ll tell you. They have the best Mexican food, steaks, football teams (high school, college, and pro), the biggest capitol building --- everything is super-sized and deluxe. Texas, and in particular Austin, is a pretty good place to run, too. In fact, Runner’s World named Austin one of the best places to run in the country, and I agree. On Tuesday, I went for a run in an area known as Town Lake; the area along the Colorado River that has nice parks and a fantastic gravel running trail. Last November, I was in Austin for a 5-day conference. At that point, I was cleared to run for no more than 30 seconds at a time, followed by 10 minutes of walking --- not exactly the ideal scenario for an avid runner. To say that I was frustrated by these restrictions would be an understatement, particularly since I was surrounded by avid runners just like me.

I vowed to return, and return I did! My run on Tuesday was hardly like last year’s run. The sun was strong, the humidity was oppressive, but my motivation was at an all-time high. I was determined to make this the best run since the surgery. Instead of running for 30 seconds, I cranked out five, 8 minute miles and probably pushed myself a little too hard. By the time I got back to the hotel, I was completely soaked and totally exhausted, but it was worth it. It was worth knowing that I really have made progress in recovery from surgery, that I really am improving, and that I really am on the road back to my old running self. On Tuesday, I ran with a little “Don’t Mess with Texas” attitude, and I think I’ll carry that with me into next March when I run the Los Angeles Marathon.

Six Months to Go Until Los Angeles

It’s hard to believe that the Los Angeles Marathon is a little less than six months away. Oh how the time has flown by. When I started this blog in June, the most I could run was 3 miles. My legs were weak, my stamina non-existent, and my confidence was shaky. Fast forward to today; I’m running 10 mile races, stamina has improved, and my confidence is increasing every week. Training for a marathon is like the race itself --- long stretches requiring patience and perseverance. Last Monday during my weekly workout with Anne the personal trainer and physical therapist extraordinaire, I realized just how much progress I’ve made --- my 800 meter times were dramatically faster than even a few weeks ago and I felt refreshed rather than totally exhausted. Clearly I’m making progress.

While the training has gone well and progress is evident, it hasn’t been easy, not by a long stretch. I’ve had moments of impatience where I’ve wanted to run longer and faster, but my body wouldn’t respond. I’ve had moments of frustration where I finished races in times far slower than in the past. And I’ve had moments of doubt where I’ve wondered whether I’d bitten off more than I could chew by trying to run a marathon. Through it all, I’ve had incredible support from you --- my family, friends, and colleagues. You’ve let me vent my frustrations and provided the encouragement I need to persevere and keep going. Without your support, there is no way in the world I could make this comeback.

Most gratifying, however, is the outpouring of support I’ve received with my fundraising efforts to support pancreatic cancer research. My goal when I started this journey was to raise $2,000. To date, contributions have totaled $2,795, most of which came within the first month of the fundraising campaign. Wow! I am grateful and appreciative beyond words. This kind of generosity and kindness is a rarity in today’s world. Thank you for you contributions, generosity and support of such a worthy cause.

Chicago: My Kind of Town

I was in Chicago on a business trip for a few days late last week, and as usual, I had a fantastic time. I had a great Italian dinner at Rosebud on Rush on Thursday night and a very tasty steak Friday night at the Chicago Chop House. I also had a chance to walk down the “Magnificent Mile” and to spend some time reading on the beach on Lake Michigan. Over the past ten years, I’ve probably visited Chicago about 15 times, mostly for business, and have grown to love the city. There are lots of cool restaurants, museums, blues clubs, and the people really embody Midwestern nice.

But the reason Chicago is so special to me is running. You see, back in 2002, I completed the Chicago Marathon, my first marathon of any kind, and it was one of the best experiences of my entire life. At the time I decided to run the race, I was miserable in my job and really didn’t have much going on in my life --- I was in a rut. I needed to shake things up and decided after attempting to register for the Marine Corps Marathon (it was full), to sign-up for the Chicago Marathon.

On October 13, 2002, I crossed the finish line of the Chicago Marathon in a time of 3 hours, 51 minutes, 58 seconds; the top 1/3 of the field. Not bad for a first timer. To this day, I can still remember waiting nervously to begin the race as the National Anthem played. I can still picture the guy dressed like Elvis singing on the side of the course near mile 12. I can still taste the jellybeans I ate at mile 18 (cherry). And I still remember seeing the wonderful people of Chicagoland coming out to encourage the runners (more than 1 million lined the course). Most of all, I remember the finish. All the hard work, dedication, and sacrifice came together at that one moment. And I can honestly tell you, it was worth it. All the Saturdays I got up early in the morning to run 20 miles, all the times I struggled up the big hill on Wisconsin Avenue in Georgetown in 90 degree heat, all the times I came home from a run totally wiped out, all the times I passed up a “big night out” with my friends to get a good night sleep, it all paid off. Finishing the Chicago Marathon showed me that I could accomplish anything if I put my mind to it. Finishing the Chicago Marathon gave me a new found confidence and a basis to believe in myself in a way I never could before. Finishing the Chicago Marathon changed my life.

As I went for a run just two days ago along Lake Michigan, all those memories from 2002 came rushing back. My stride quickened, my breathing increased, and a big smile emerged. After I reached the beautiful Lincoln Park, I decided to head back to the hotel. A t the moment I turned around I caught a glimpse of the spectacular Chicago skyline. It was then that I realized that while DC is my real home, Chicago is my home for running and I was glad to be back.

My Recovery Team

Immediately after the surgery, I knew something was wrong. The procedure took much longer than expected and the surgeon indicated that the operation was much more complicated than he had originally anticipated. A week after surgery, my ankle and foot looked like an artificial limb – all puffed up and swollen beyond recognition in a disgusting shade of yellow (I won’t gross everyone out by posting the picture, but trust me, it’s icky). Plus, parts of my foot were numb to the touch, yet I was experiencing excruciating pain in parts of my foot that weren’t even targets of the surgery. Something as innocuous as a breeze hitting my toes caused severe pain, the likes of which I hope I never experience again.

So how did I get from deformed foot/ankle man to today? With lots of hard work and the support of my friends, family, and colleagues. However, there is a duo that deserves special recognition, my physical therapists, Anne and Jacob. These two had the unenviable task of treating me --- the king of complainers, the world class kvetcher, and the undisputed heavyweight champion of worrying.

When I started physical therapy two weeks after surgery, I couldn’t even move my foot. The swelling and pain were terrible. Before they could even begin having me do exercises, Anne and Jacob had to get the inflammation and pain under control, and did so primarily by rubbing and massaging my foot (they should get a medal just for doing that!) Gradually, we built up the rehab regime to include various stretches, leg and ankle strengthening exercises, as well as some cardio-conditioning on the stationary bike and elliptical machine.

To say that I am grateful to Anne and Jacob for all of their help would be an understatement. At the lowest point during recovery, I didn't think that I would ever walk or run again. Yet, Anne and Jacob were unwavering in their encouragement, support, and optimism and I have made a full recovery, due in large measure to their exceptional talent and skill.

Yesterday morning at Washington and Lee High School in Arlington, I went through a grueling workout at the track --- 400 meter repeats, 800 meter repeats, ankle strengthening and hip strengthening exercises, balance work, and leg strengthening. This was all done without pain, without soreness, without a limp, without even a hint of what had happened a year ago.

The benefits of physical therapy are obvious. I’m walking and running, training for a marathon, playing tennis, and taking up golf. But I also reaped another benefit, one that I never expected at the beginning of this journey --- friendship. To Anne and Jacob, for all you did to help me, and for your friendship, thank you.

POSTSCRIPT – Every Saturday I workout at the track at Washington and Lee High School under the supervision of Anne, who has agreed to be my personal trainer. She is helping me improve my fitness level and speed, and to provide guidance and strategy to avoid injury as I build up weekly mileage in preparation for the 2009 Los Angeles Marathon.

Courage

The word courage is defined in Webster’s dictionary as “mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.” We often hear the word used in conjunction with athletics or politics, as when a great athlete showed great courage by playing through injury to win the big game, or such and such politician displayed courage by standing up to his party by taking a politically unpopular position on the issues.

I would argue, however, that this isn’t the real essence of courage. What takes real courage is to battle cancer, to endure the often harsh treatments that make you sick, leave you without hair, and make you feel lousy. It takes real courage to fight through the adversity of cancer and continue to live. My friend Kate (pictured above) has had stage four pancreatic cancer for over one year and I’ve never seen anyone in my entire life display more courage than her. She’s undergone countless tests, procedures, blood transfusions, chemo treatments, even a hospitalization. Yet through it all, she continues to work. She continues to see her friends. She continues to write an amazing blog about her battle with cancer and inspires others who are going through their own battles against this dreaded disease. You want real courage? Last year, I was bed ridden after my ankle surgery, and Kate came to visit me! She visited while she was going through chemo. That is the true definition of courage and of a great friend. Yes, the athletic feats by our sports heroes are amazing. Yes, the political stands taken by our politicians are important, but in real life, in the real world, it is Kate and the people like her who display the true meaning of courage everyday.

Running Naked in Rockville

I felt like I had nothing on during last night’s Rockville Twilighter 8k --- exposed, vulnerable, totally out of sorts. I was fully clothed for the race --- shirt, shorts, socks, shoes, timing chip, but I was missing something critical for all runners, a watch! The running watch is the lifeblood of every runner, about as important as shoes and socks, key for monitoring progress in a race and a major determinant of race strategy and tactics.



As I approached the starting line to begin the race last night, I looked at my left wrist to zero out the chron setting from the previous day’s run, and there was nothing on my wrist. Zip. Zero. Nada. What a blunder! At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. How would I be able to monitor my progress? How would I be able to keep an even pace without knowing how long I was running for? How could I forget this most important tool? Panic set in. This was going to be a difficult enough race with a watch --- 95 degree heat, high humidity --- running at a realistic pace is crucial in these types of conditions.

The first two miles went by with relative ease, and as I settled in and pushed through mile three, I looked at the race clock that is stationed at every mile and realized I was going too slowly, so I stepped on it and logged the last two miles in 16 minutes, much faster than I’ve run in a long time. As I approached the finish line and saw the big race clock overhead, I realized I would easily beat my goal of 50 minutes. As it turns out, I finished in a little over 43 minutes, much faster than I had planned to run. My legs felt fine, I was tired and my shirt was soaked through from the humidity, but otherwise I felt great. I survived running without a watch and probably did better than if I had worn one. Does that mean I’m going to ditch the watch in future races? Not a chance, but it worked out well for me last night and it’s just another strange twist and turn in my recovery from ankle surgery and return to running.

The Saturday Breakfast

Traditionally, I like to do a hard work out and/or long run on Saturdays, followed by a nice, big breakfast (think eggs, pancakes, and hashbrowns) at a diner or other dive-type place. Below is a list of my favorites. The rotation is becoming kind of stale though, and I'm always looking to add new places --- would love to hear your suggestions.

The Diner (Adams Morgan)
American City Diner (Friendship Heights)
Silver Diner (Rockville)
Parkway Deli (Silver Spring)
The Original Pancake House (Bethesda)

New York or Philly?

The New York City Half Marathon is a mere two weeks away, and I need to make a decision: run the race or scratch it from the schedule. This is one of the best races anywhere in the country. One lap around Central Park, then straight down Seventh Avenue through Times Square (passing such landmarks as Carnegie Hall), head over to the West Side Highway, and finish near Battery Park. Except for the New York Marathon, this is the only road race run through the streets of Manhattan. I ran the inaugural race back in 2006 and set a personal best at the half marathon distance, 1 hour, 43 minutes, one second, good for a pace of 7:51 per mile.

Fast forward to the present: barely two months back into running full time, trying to find my stride again, both in terms of speed, pace, and endurance. The longest distance I’ve run during the comeback is eight miles, and it was a struggle. If I decide to run New York in two weeks, I’ll have to take the opposite approach from 2006: slow, steady, cautious. This is out of necessity, to prevent both injury and hitting “the wall” and running out of energy. I don’t like to run this way, but for the time being, it's my reality.

I talked it over yesterday with my friend Anne, a very important person when it comes to all things ankle. You see, Anne was one of two physical therapists I worked with during my recovery from ankle surgery, and she is now my personal trainer (more about her and the other pt Jacob in an upcoming blog entry). Anyway, Anne framed my dilemma perfectly: I could run the race in New York and finish, but I wouldn’t be able to run it the way I want and I would probably be frustrated and miserable. She knows me well!

I’m 99% sure that I’m going to scratch New York, continue to train hard, strengthen my ankle, improve my fitness, speed, and endurance, and target a half marathon in the fall, perhaps the Philadelphia Distance Run in September. In the meantime, there are lots of shorter distance races being staged in the DC area in the next few months; I plan to participate in as many of them as possible.

Patience

Way back in the late 1970s and early 1980s, I was your typical, high energy, impatient little boy, always wanting instant gratification rather than taking the long view. Kids, especially at a very early age, are prone to such thinking. After all, at that age we don’t have the benefit of life experience, and our little brains can hardly see beyond the next minute or hour. By golly, if I want that cookie or the latest cool Atari video game, I want it now. What’s with this waiting or patience stuff? To this day I can still remember my mom preaching the old saying, patience is a virtue, and I suppose over the years, I have grown and matured (though that is subject to some debate) and am much more patient as an adult.

Since June 2007, I’ve had to exert more than my fair share of patience, first with the slow recovery of my ankle, then breaking my left elbow and going through yet more physical therapy, then enduring a nasty case of pneumonia this past spring. Through it all, I would tell myself that the end was just around the corner, and that better days were ahead --- PATIENCE, PATIENCE, PATIENCE, I kept telling myself.

Now that I’m better, with no major ailments or afflictions in sight, my reserve of patience seems to be dwindling, at least in regards to running, not a good thing when training for a marathon. Prior to injuring my ankle, I was what you would call an avid runner, some might say too avid. I would run 6 days a week, sometimes twice a day. I would run in the rain, in the snow, in hot and humid weather, in below freezing temperatures, nothing would deter me from pounding the pavement. In a typical year, I would run 15-20 races over varying distances from 5ks and 10ks, to 10 milers, half marathons, and of course the big daddy, a full 26.2. The injury was but a mere interruption.

Training for a marathon, like the race itself, requires a great deal of patience --- slowly building up your weekly mileage, slowly adding miles to your long runs and daily runs, and gradually increasing your pace and speed. Too much, too soon, too fast, and you’ll wind up injured. Yet as I write this post and realize that I need to take my time, there is a part of me that wants to go home this afternoon and run 20 miles. There’s a part of me that wants to prove that this ankle injury is behind me, a distant memory, and the only way to do it is to push myself to the edge, to the brink, even chancing injury. In the end I know that I shouldn’t and that I probably won’t go out for that run, yet there is still a small part of me, that five year old in me, that wants that cookie right now!

Heat, Humidity, Hills, and the Potomac 5K

Today’s Potomac 5k marked the second race in my comeback from ankle surgery. Prior to injury, a 5k would have been a piece of cake, a walk in the park, no big deal --- pick your cliché. It was an easy distance to run, the type of race I could finish in less than 22 minutes without exerting myself. One ankle surgery later, with a year and half layoff, and even a shorter distance race becomes a challenge.

I started off the race knowing I couldn’t push myself the way I used to, not at least until I get back into shape. I set a realistic goal of finishing in under 27 minutes, which averages out to less than 9 minutes per mile, respectable, especially coming off an injury, but no where close to the 7 minutes per mile I used to churn out in a race of twice the distance. From the beginning today, I struggled. The weather was warm and extremely humid to the point where I was sweating even before the race began.

I started off the race pretty well, completing the first mile in 8:07, second mile was even faster, 8 minutes flat. At that point I’m thinking that I could kick it up a notch and finish in under 24 minutes. Wow, how wrong I was! 100 yards into mile three my legs started aching, I felt completely overheated, my shirt was completely soaked through --- I hadn’t felt this wiped since I hit the “wall” during the 2003 Chicago Marathon and wound up walking the last 2 miles. This time, however, I would have none of that. There was no way I would surrender and walk, no way I would let a 5k beat me down, so I pushed on, running slower and slower, but still running. The hills, oh there were some steep ones, started to wear on me, yet as I approached the last hill on the course, I felt a sudden surge of energy, and resumed running at the pace I had used during the first mile. As I ran down hill towards the finish line, I glanced at my watch and was amazed to see that I would easily finish in less than 27 minutes.

My official time for today’s race: 25 minutes, 22 seconds, good for an 8:09 per mile pace. On the one hand I was happy with my time, given everything I’ve gone through in the last year and a half, on the other hand, it also shows that I have a long way to go before I’ll be ready for a marathon. Thank goodness the L.A. Marathon is 8 months away.

Happy Birthday to Me: Wimbledon, A New HD-TV, Steak Dinner, and Good Health

Birthdays are a time to celebrate. Some throw themselves a big blowout party, others take a group to dinner, and others still go on a trip or take a long weekend getaway with a significant other. I have developed my own traditions over the past 33 years: watching Wimbledon, taking a long afternoon nap, eating a steak dinner at a top shelf steakhouse, plus sometimes mixing in the occasional summer blockbuster movie, a round of mini-golf, and/or a few frames of bowling. It’s a winning formula, and those of you who know me well know I love my traditions! Yesterday, my 33rd, was no different. I watched Roger Federer dominate his quarterfinal match, I bought myself a fantastic new 37 inch Sony HDTV (March madness at my place next year), and had a thoroughly enjoyable and delicious dinner with my parents at Charlie Palmer Steak near the Capitol building in Washington, DC.

As I was eating birthday cake last night, I couldn’t help but reflect upon my situation one year ago. At that time, I was one month post-surgery and not doing well. I couldn’t walk, my right foot was so swollen and puffed up it didn’t even look human, I had pain throughout my foot and ankle, yet parts of my foot were numb to the touch. My legs were so weak from lack of use that I couldn’t even stand in the shower and had to use a shower bench, something normally reserved for the elderly, not a 32 year old marathon runner. The progress with my recovery was slow to none and the orthopedist thought this was being caused by reflex sympathetic dystrophy (RSD), a rare nervous system disorder that is sometimes caused by the trauma of surgery. To say that this was the low point of my life would be an understatement. I never thought I would walk or run again, or live a normal pain free life for that matter.

Oh what a difference a year makes. After physical therapy three days a week for almost a year, lots of hard work, and the unwavering support of my family, friends, and colleagues at work, I’m pretty much back to normal. It turns out I didn’t have RSD, but a case of badly bruised nerves. It turns out I was able to walk again and now I’m training for a marathon, and 99% of the pain has disappeared. All in all I have pretty much made a full recovery.

Yes the new high def tv is nice, the presents are great, the well wishes from everyone is terrific and I’m grateful for people remembering my bday. AND of course the steak dinner last night was awesome.; but what I enjoyed most about yesterday was being healthy. It’s something I used to take for granted, but I now know from my own experience and from watching my friend Kate's battle with cancer, that good health is something to be cherished, to be grateful for, and never to be taken for granted.

Ok, so I don’t want to end on too serious a note, so below is my top 5 steakhouse list - would love to hear yours.

1. Sparks Steakhouse (New York City)
2. The Palm (Washington, DC)
3. Chicago Chop House (Chicago)
4. Metropolitan Grill (Seattle)
5. Charlie Palmer Steak (Washington, DC)

Welcome

On a clear, unseasonably mild, Saturday afternoon back in January 2007, I experienced the nightmare of every avid runner --- injury. One minute I'm running 7 minute miles and dreaming of a run at a Boston qualifying time, the next I'm limping back home on a bum ankle hoping against hope that the pain is temporary, a small bump on the road to marathon glory. Well, after two rounds of x-rays, six weeks of physical therapy, and no diagnosis, the orthopedist ordered an MRI, and as I suspected, a serious underlying problem was discovered, the dreaded ganglion cyst. No, this wasn't life threatening, but it took away my life as a runner, at least for the time being.

The only option to get back to running was surgery, and not an easy one. Because of the location of the cyst, an arthroscopic procedure was out of the question. Nope, I was in for good old fashion open surgery. And so it went. On June 1, 2007, I underwent a 2+ hour surgical procedure at Sibley Memorial Hospital in Northwest Washington, DC, to remove the cyst, clean up some scar tissue, and get me back on the road to running. The expected recovery time was six weeks, but as it turns out, the procedure was much more complicated than originally anticipated, my body didn't react well, and it's taken over a year to recover.

I'm writing this blog to chronicle the challenges of recovering from surgery, getting back into shape, and training for a marathon, the 2009 Los Angeles Marathon, as well as to share my passion for the sport of running, which has made such a positive impact on my life.

But what about the last part of the title, raising money? At the same time I sustained the ankle injury, my friend Kate (who got me into all this running non-sense in the first place over 10 years ago) was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. She is fighting pc really hard, going through treatment, and not only surviving, but living as full a life as possible. I admire her strength and fight, and want to support her as she goes through this difficult period. And in that spirit, I am raising money for my marathon run in L.A. to support the Lorenzen Pancreatic Cancer Foundation. Donations can be made at the following webiste: http://www.active.com/donate/pancreaticadedicat08/beatpc. Also, for a look at Kate's inspirational blog as she fights pc, go to http://www.katethaxton.com/survivingpc/.

Thanks for taking the time to read this post and I look forward to sharing with you the trials and tribulations of training for 26.2