Category: Run

Thursday night. I hadn’t done anything all week, not since running home from the Y on Sunday afternoon, and swimming Tuesday evening. Work was tough – go figure, since I’d been gone for two weeks. Nothing like playing catch up.

The kids were in bed. The wife was working. The evening air was heavy, ripe with the promise of rain. So, I stuffed the iPod in a plastic bag, laced up the Gel Cumulii once more, and set out.

As I headed up and over Cow Hill, there was a little bit of thunder in the air. I considered heading back (And, yes, I should have), but there was something there – a spring in the step that hadn’t been there for a while. So I pressed on, thinking I’d do the quick 5 mile loop on River Road and home.

As I approached the underpass for IH-95, the skies opened up in earnest. Rain fell, the breeze turned into wind, and the dry spaces beneath the trees started getting wet. I thought about resting under the bridge and waiting for the storm to pass, but instead I pressed on, taking High Street towards downtown.

At Star Street, again, I thought about turning back. I hung the left to head down to River Road, and the rain turned to a deluge. My shoes were completely soaked, my t-shirt clinging to me like, well, a wet t-shirt. At river Road, I decided to turn right and loop, in the rain, through downtown.

Downtown, the rain tapered, and then stopped completely. The air took on that brilliant shine that you can only get in the immediate aftermath of a thunderstorm. The thunder continued on out past Fisher’s Island, and the sunset began to break through the clouds.

The run on up River Road towards home was ephemeral, all fireflies and glassy water and unseasonably cool. The more I wished for the moment to stretch on into forever, the more the sun kept on past sunset, darkness rushing through the sky.

As I walked up the final hill towards the house, though, I got the letdown of not hearing Lance or Paula’s congratulations on a good run… And, the tightness in the calves, and the spent feeling inherent in pushing one’s limits.

I stuffed my soaked shoes with newspaper (one of them running tricks you read about but never try). THe next day – dry as bones, and good to go for 5K at lunch with Johnny Klink.

Sunday: I got back from Arizona late, late Saturday night (as in 5 minutes to midnight or so), and was woken up by the boys. Church, lunch, got most of the yard mowed, and we headed down to the Y for Family Swim, with the usual thought that I’d run home.

After swimming, I was feeling – well, tired, and really kind of didn’t want to run. But, Missy goaded me into it with her svetlness and her recent speed, especially when she poked me in the belly.

Bleh. The run was awful, but I finished it. 4 miles, 40 minutes. Not one for the ages.

Leap forward to yesterday. I’m in class in Hartford this week, and stopped at Lake Terramuggus on the way home on Tuesday. Ran the PigIronSports run course plus a little bit. 8:30 miles, more or less: Not smokin’, but it felt good.

The first Terramuggus tri is on Thursday. I cannot wait, even though I know it is going to really, really hurt. My weight is still up around 170, probably 5 lbs heavier than my last tri campaign in 2005. But, I’m pretty happy in general.

I’ll happily date myself here, but I may have finally found a perfect “Power Song” for Nike+iPod – The Georgia Satellite’s “Keep Your Hands to Yourself”.

I’m a big proponent that 12 bar blues based rock may be the perfect running music.  It is, bar none, the perfect music for a non-interstate road trip, the bass drum beating in counterpoint to the seams in the tarmac, the thrum of the bass and the engine indistingushible. Plug the same music into an iPod, plug the earbuds into your aural cavities, and you’re going as long as there’s gas in the tank.

Not meaning to pour salt in wounds, but I’m going to rave about summer in New England for most of the next four months, until I transition into raving about fall in New England. Today was one of the days that makes me do it – 73 degrees at lunch, bluebird skies, gentle breeze off the ocean, and looking to drop into the 50’s tonight. The boys and I had a great time camping Sunday Night (look for a post on that this evening), I did substantial amounts of yard work on Memorial Day (felt guilty the whole time about not doing anything in particular to memorialize my brothers-in-arms forever awaiting homecoming), and was somewhat productive at work this morning.

The run was amazing. Set the iPod for a 5K, planning to run to the Buckley Bridge and back, which varies between 5K and 4 miles depending on what twists and turns I add. No wind on the way out, and the sun was strong enough to be warm but not hot. Slight breeze on the way back – kind of wished I was turning pedals, ’cause it wasn’t enough to make a difference on the bike – just enough to keep the pace down.

I hit the button and called up the Satellites as I came to the last hill – distorted guitar gets you started, a beat of bass drum, and then pained lyrics as the bass picks up. The hill gets steep, and the first chorus ends, the “wall of sound” best effort from a redneck garage band hits, and it just gets better from there.

The lyrics – “story about free milk and a cow”, “wanted her real bad and was about to give in” – straight up Baptist morality and carnal frustration torn out of my high school days. Which works well with running – denial of immediate pleasure the shallow promise that we are able to trade of pain in the present for bliss in the future.

(Interesting note – in the opening stanza, it’s the “change in my pocket going jing-a-ling-a-ling” that “wants to call you on the telephone”, not the narrator. The great Southern trick of anthrophormization to

The music – one decible louder, one more cycle, or one more bit of color from the vocalist and the song would have immediately descended into satire. Instead, it’s burned into my psyche as one of few perfect things.

The running catch – halfway through the obligatory but not over-the-top guitar solo/bridge, there’s a perfectly timed “Oh, go, man, go!”

I finished strong, sprinting the last 400 meters with a brief stop at the guard shack to get back on base. Walked a little over a quarter mile to get back. Love it.

Now, to keep hold of the song, especially the part about “See, I wanted her real bad, and was about to give in” the next time I start thinking about picking up a snack for the road.

I slacked on Saturday, after the wonder that was the Bluff Point race. Man, I really get jazzed when I run there, and to have it be a race, and to run it with two absolutely wonderful women! F’n a.

Missy and I woke up to the traditional Saturday morning pounce by the boys. I’ve learned to hear Jake coming down the stairs, so I’m usually opening my eyes about the time our door opens and 50 pounds of 7 year old comes flying through the air. Not really awake, but my eyes are opening.

Yesterday – wow, I really could have slept another hour. Missy kind of summed it up when she said “Y’know, I feel like I’m waking up after a party back in college, ‘cept without the headache.” But, workday at the church started at 0800 sharp (what kind of idi…. wait, wait, doing the Lord’s work…). I put in an electrical outlet and a phone jack, and then rebuilt our WordPress installation. Yep, I’m a plumber for the 21st century. Only smashed my thumb once with the pliers while stripping wire, and I managed to turn my “Oh, F…” into “Our Father…”

This afternoon? Family swim and a quick run back to the house.

Nate destructed Saturday morning at swimming lessons. Didn’t want anything to do with the pool AT ALL. Not quite the wailing and rolling on the floor, but close. I finally coaxed him to the edge of the pool, and his instructor grabbed him and pulled him in before he knew what was going on. After a minute or so, he was fine. This afternoon, though, I managed to get Nate swimming with just the “bubble”, or floaty thing on a web belt. He didn’t even need to hold on to the floaty-dumbell thing. Small triumphs.

The run back through town – the best part, I think, is that I did it. I’ve still been getting discomfort in my ankle, but, since I moved to running more on my toes, I think it’s getting better, and is now just soreness. Six months of heel striking really screwed things up, I think.

Oh, and in the interest of full disclosure – Cow Hill beat me today, Warren. Just couldn’t quite make it up and over without walking for a couple of minutes.

So, to borrow a phrase, it’s a beautiful life. Go congratulate Mark on a smokin’ performance at the Red Moose marathon up there in Canadia.

So, I really am starting to think that my whole foot trouble started when I switched to the Nike Air Zoom Moire shoes last summer. Since they were designed with a ton of cushion in the heel, and since I was picking up mileage, I let my form get sloppy – rolling heel to toe on each step, reaching forward with my feet instead of turning smooth circles under my body letting the ground drive each stride, etc.

Then, when I shifted back to Asics, shoes that complement good form instead of forgive bad form, the little bits got magnified. To top it off, I started running on the treadmill more, which forgives bad form even more than the Nikes do, and increased my mileage, leading to injury.

It recurred again in March, ’cause I wasn’t thinking about form.

This month, the foot pain hasn’t been there, but good, solid muscle soreness has. The kind that’s deep in the tissue, not right at the joint or ligament. The kind that gets better with a little bit of rubbing from a patient spouse. Hurts so good…

I’d dropped Jon Klink an email yesterday letting him know that I expected to be stuck in a phone conference over the lunchtime run, and that he ought to not expect me to run today. So, when to my surprise, the agenda passed exactly as planned and noone lead the conversation down any ratholes, and we were done in 45 minutes instead of the two hours I’d planned on.

Back at the desk, I called Jonny K, expecting to get nothing. He picked up.

“Hey, you wanna go?” I asked.

“Man, I just ordered a sandwich” he said.

“OK, well,” I began somewhat relieved that I could get a jump on my next task.

“Ah, screw it, let’s go”.

So we went.

Today started off grey, a global hangover after the worker’s holiday (By the way, I found a really funny but completely blue riff on “Workers of the World Unite!” that is totally inappropriate for a somewhat toned-down site like this). But about a mile in, the clouds just kind of evaporated, the sun came out, and WOW.

We opted for 4 again, and I was feeling great until the first section of heading up the hill back to the office. Dunno why, but I didn’t have it in my legs today, so I walked about a quarter mile. Jon kept running. It all came out in the wall, ’cause I caught him before the spot we usually knock it off.

So, that’s pretty much it. I’ve been stretching, but I think the big thing keeping me healthy is looking at form. I won’t pretend to offer any advice, but for me, what’s worked is concentrating on quick turnover, not being able to see my toes as I hit the ground, and landing on the ball of my foot.