My first real race

Hi all,

Quick update on the Gerardi's. This past weekend, Kim and I completed the McGuire Mud Run. Essentially, this was a 6.2 mile run with many large muddy obstacles placed in the way, much in the style of a military obstacle course (think "Stripes" or "Full Metal Jacket"). Our team name was "The Beavers" and we represented the Paris 12 with honor and distinction.

The picture shows us about to cross the finish line. We were wearing black, so the picture does not do justice to how disgustingly dirty we really were (note: the sleeves of the shirt I wore under my black t-shirt were white when I started the race). For pure entertainment, check out the pictures on the website to see some of the obstacles we had to go through.

Our 7-year old son Ben (front and center), jumped in and ran the last mile with us after cheering us on through our final muddy obstacle (the crawl through mud under the simulated barb wire).

While Kim has competed in running races in the high school as a cross country runner, this was a first for me. It took a while for it all to sink in, but it was really a great feeling to finish. I think more than anything it was the genuine excitement that Ben showed towards us when we were finishing the race. He just kept coming up to us and hugging us and telling us he loved us. Perhaps it was just the novelty of seeing your mom and dad crawl through the mud that he was so excited about. But for me it was something more. He was proud of us. It's hard to verbalize, but as the father of a young boy, you look for opportunities to be, for lack of a better word, a hero. The concept of sacrafice and grinding it out to provide for your family doesn't really sink in as "heroic" for a boy until they become a father themselves (at least, it didn't for me).

My job is massively boring to the mind of my son (hell, it's massively boring to me sometimes too). I sell financial and operational systems software to large companies. I once had to do a presentation to his class on career day. I've presented to CEO's and CFO's of Fortune 500 companies under the most intense pressure you can imagine, but I was more nerved up for this presentation than anything I've ever felt. I eventually had to bring a Power Ranger into the conversation to explain to the kids that a company sells this Power Ranger, and it costs money to make the Power Ranger, and you have to use computers to track the costs and money that you make and blah, blah, blah....Regardless, I think I lost them after I put down the Power Ranger...

The point I'm dancing around is in the act of letting myself go over the past 10 years, it kills me to think I might have put myself into a negative light in my son's eyes. That's not to say I don't include my two daughters in that equation as well, but it's different dynamic for a father and son. He's looking at my actions for examples on how to be a man.

So mark this down as one more reason I'm going to finish this marathon: I want my boy to be proud of me.

Mike

Snap, crackle, pop!

Greetings from Istanbul!

I hope this works since my blog settings are now in Turkish. Bob and I are in Turkey for 5 days, celebrating the end of Ramadan and taking advantage of some time off to get a change of scenery. I am taking a break from wandering the city and wanted to report that Bob and I are officially registered for the marathon! Woo hoo! Whether or not I will finish it is another story... I've been having a really rough time lately. My knees have staged a massive coup and I have had to stop running for the past two weeks or so. I have been reading a lot about running-related knee ailments and it is so disheartening that I have had to cut myself off. There's only so much I can read about patella mis-tracking. Ugh. So, the title of my post is in reference to how my knees, particularly my left, feel. I have an appointment with an orthopedic doctor in about a week and a half and hopefully I will be back on track soon. Apparently every doctor in my insurance network takes this month off. I would have thought I'd be relieved to get a break from running, but I've been really frustrated by having to stop! I was really getting into it and was starting to see some progress. Since this whole knee ordeal started a month ago, I have purchased every kind of knee strap and brace in the middle east, tried over-priced over-the-counter orthotics, and even ventured to a super-creepy orthopedic "clinic" in old Dubai that had an available appointment. There I was told I am basically an anatomical perfect storm: knock-kneed, flat-footed, and weak. I've never worked so hard just to be able to do something that is such hard work! I feel a bit disconnected from the group. So, if anyone has had (or is corrently having) similar problems, I'd love some advice! It can't be as hopeless as runnersworld.com etc. is making me feel!

So, that's where I'm at for the moment. I wish it could be more on the positive side! I hope you are all doing well. I must now get back to eating Turkish delight. It really is delightful! And addictive. I'm starting to wonder what the white powder it is coated in really is.

Kristin's Krusade 5K, Sunday 10/4

Time to show off the results of your hard labor to the world, or at least to a few people at the track at St. Joe's. Some of you are not quite up to 5K, some of you are well past it, but it's a walk/run and will give us a chance to experience an organized race. And it's for a good cause, check it out here. If enough people want to do this, I'll sign us up as a group. (Fred, I think you can win this. Free pancakes if you do.)

My pain has a name and it is Tom Coyne

Hello to all. Good news! I’ve moved past the “holy crap, 26 miles is going to be impossible” to the “maybe, just maybe, I can do this” mindset.

I’m feeling good when I run now. Big props go out to Lowell for the coaching. My knee was absolutely killing me which was causing me to run like a shopping cart with a bum wheel. I would be steady for a bit, and then the wheel would start wobbling and throw everything out of whack. The simple of act of brisk walking for a mile before I start my run has changed everything.

Whilst running the other day, I came to the realization that the problem with my knee in the past and the present is irrevocably linked to our fearless leader, Tom Coyne.

The Present is simple: there is a 99.9% chance that I wouldn’t be running like this if it weren’t for the gauntlet of the marathon.

The Past: 1987, Saint Mary Magdalene. I was in 7th grade. A young, freckled and obscenely pale Tommy Coyne was in 6th. The boys in our grades would often play a recess game against each other called “Kill”. The object was simple: the entire playground was the field, and one team tried the keep the ball away from the other. To get the ball for your team, you would tackle, pile on, maul, and generally “kill” the person on the other team who currently had the ball. Pretty cut and dry. And so it was, that during one of these games, I had the ball and the 6th graders were giving chase. Leading the pack was a young Filipino named Mark Victoria (later nicknamed “the Sniper” in high school football because of his speed). Following close behind him was Tommy. They were closing fast, and I had two choices: pass the ball to a teammate or plant and turn back into them and attempt to break the rush. I chose the latter. Mark went low, Tom went high, and my knee went “POP!” (official medical term: dislocated patella. Laymans definition: my knee got douched). As I lay on the ground, choking on dust and squirming in pain, I heard a “yeah baby!” and saw a kid with a flash of bushy red hair giving a high five to a stout brown skinned lad. My knee swelled up to the size of a grapefruit and was never the same after that. Once I picked up football in high school, it popped out at least 5x per season. So, thanks for that Tom!

On the weight loss front, I’m down 20 lbs since my fitness evaluation (284 to 264). That may sound like a lot, but for me it’s just moved the needle from “morbidly obese” to “fatty boombalatty”. I’m charging hard towards my goal of losing 70lbs. I recently just started a “cleanse” http://www.drnatura.com/ (fyi – do NOT click on the pictures if you do not have a strong stomach…pretty nasty stuff). I’ll keep you posted on the progress, but a few of my friends have done this and swear by it.

That’s pretty much it for now. Sorry we missed the run on Sunday. I could make up some lame excuse, but the truth is that I was hung over from the Phils/Mets game the night before. We’ll be there this weekend.

"I am the tortoise!"

An update from an elusive member of the Paris Twelve...


"Let the games begin...

No I do not mean the Notre Dame football season(here's an apprehensive "Go Irish!!"). By games I refer to the fact-yes, fact- that the long-procrastinating, sloth-like, ever elusive Brian J. Duffy has begun training for the 2010 Paris Marathon(and beyond, more on that later)!! On Thursday, under the cover of darkness on an unlit Springfield Township Middle School track, I ran more than the distance between my seat at the Eagles games and the men's room for the first time in more that 10 years. Given the current shape of my body and the various aches and pains I had going in, I knew I would have to start out slowly, and that I did, more slowly than I once thought possible. The pre-run stretch was an early indicator. Never very flexible in my running days 20 years ago, I can only guess how laughable I must have looked straining to reach mid calf when trying to touch my toes. When I got to the track, I briefly thought back to my half-miler days, and all of the track "work" I used to do with relative ease. Back when I was 185 and lean, I could circle that track two times in almost two minutes. Twenty-five years later, I was reduced to a shuffle. I shuffled around once, twice, three times, then decided to walk a bit-a half lap- then began again. Another two laps, and walk, another lap, and.... It was time to stop. I suddenly realized that I was alone in the dark after 10 o'clock, not sure if I had told my wife where I was going or what to do if I was not back in an hour. It was not the heavy track work I used to be able to do, the 10x four hundred meter sprint training days from way back when, but I knew it was safely enough for the first time in a long time.

Friday, I met with Bob Bair down at Riddle. The numbers paint an ugly picture, which only means there is much to improve on. I am now a 42 year old male, 75 and one quarter inches, 271 pounds(oh, my!). My standing heart rate is good, blood pressure is good(thanks mom and dad), VO2Max is fair, flexibility is average(i can't believe that), and my bench press was good. My body fat was 25%, and Bob explained I should be down to 10% when I get in marathon shape(can't we do something about that right away?). My lean body mass was 2.9, when I should get to 5.1. Is this all TMI? The most important thing I learned with Bob was the caloric intake data he provided based on all of my body data. I hope to team this take-away up with what the nutritionist can provide to begin a more healthy and regimented diet program. The body was not designed to transport 270 for 26, that much I know.

Today, Saturday, I ran my second run on the boardwalk in OC. Was able to get in two miles without stopping, but it was a slow two miles. Hermit crabs were sliding across the boards faster than I was. And the boards didn't appear to be jumping up and tripping them the way they were for me. Shuffling, I am afraid, leads to face plants. Didn't quite stumble that badly, but almost. Women running with jogging strollers were blowing by and soon disappearing on the horizon. I suspect this will be the first of many humbling experiences over the next eight months. But it is a start.

I am thinking about getting a t-shirt that says, "I am the tortoise!"

Look forward to seeing you all next week.

Duff(Brian, but everybody calls me Duff)"

Dances with Gorillas

My transformation into wannabe runner must be underway--Runner's World has replaced The New Yorker as the magazine I don't read but still leave out on the ottoman to impress guests. I did, however, pick up this month's Runner's World out of the mail pile, and I learned of a race that might help some of us with one of the issues we've been struggling with during our training--namely, that running is just about no damn fun. This might be. I'm up for an Albany road trip on October 25th if anyone else is. I'll pay for gas, you bring the bananas.