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Virginia is for Plodders

Wanting to try my feet at thirteen miles before the holidays and fatherhood put a freeze on my traveling options, I recently headed down to Fredericksburg, Virginia to run the Blue & Gray Half Marathon. After viewing some of the footage shot by my lovely sidekick (who is celebrating her birthday today), I have begun to wonder if "run" is actually what I did. (And no, none of this footage is in slow motion.) In my defense, this first clip is from the halfway point where I was beginning to knock on the runner's wall--I had just slopped my way up a muddy hill, and I found myself at a part in the course where we were doing a loop around the athletic fields at some bucolic college that just looked like a bunch of puddles to me, and I could glimpse the miles ahead all crowded with women and children tiptoeing through the rain, bounding with joy into the distance. And this second clip at the race's end (none of this footage is particularly exciting, but what the hell, the blog needed some love) bears witness to the following facts: I did finish; it rained the entire f$%#ing time; I am still kind of fat; and I am sooooooooo sloooooooow. But running my life's longest distance in 34 degrees and pouring rain (notice that I'm the only one running without gloves--no, those aren't latex gloves, those are two frozen lumps of bloodless flesh stuck to the end of my forearms), and that I didn't technically walk a step of it feels like accomplishment enough, pace and place be damned (I actually had a decent personal pace going until the last two miles, all uphill, where my shuffle-stride had me nearly running in place -- I looked like I was busting a move instead of trying to move my body forward). Highlights of the race: A medal; Gatorade at water stations; Michelob truck at the finish line (my legs miraculously burst into a sprint at the finish as I bowled over spectators and elbowed my way through a sea of goobers waiting in line for their free banana, and I found myself standing before said truck where I made a cup of Ultra disappear like there was a hole in it). Lowlights of the race: Everything else. The notion that I would turn around and go run that race distance again is comical--nay, tragic--but thirteen felt that way not very long ago. As for running, it isn't getting easier, and I can't clearly articulate what I'm getting out of it. But as I sat (yes, sat) in the shower after the race, still clutching that cup and and feeling my fingers tingle back to life, I felt good. I felt really, really good. And how that happened at the end of a rainy, frozen morning that began and ended with me plodding my way through a strip mall parking lot, I'm not entirely sure.

Is it December already? My running year in review.

It doesn’t seem so long ago that I was sitting in Tom Coyne’s back garden talking about ideas for his next writing project. TC was doing the best he could to keep mum about the irons he had in the fire, but a very amused Allyson Coyne did the best she could to hold back the tears of laughter as she asked if I’d ever gone running before?

Oh how things have changed. Oh how I like Tom so much less.

A team of two, on a team of twelve.

My first team meeting didn’t take place with Tom and the team on Kelly Drive, but on the couch in my house in South Philadelphia. The minutes of the meeting between Dani and I are shown below.

Dani and I tackle problems very differently. Dani takes the "plan meticulously and execute with military precision" approach. I take the “Who needs instructions? Let’s just start and figure it out as we go along” approach. They clearly both have their merits. I was responsible for taking the meeting notes and began with what seemed to be the most important rule; we should have fun. The observant among you will also note that this was crossed out. What you can’t see is the 2-hour argument that followed about the need to take this whole marathon thing seriously. Eventually we regrouped, dug deep and honestly examined our character strengths and weaknesses, and came up with the additional six rules. Rule number one was also reinstated after a tantrum of epic proportions by one of the two meeting attendees. I shall protect their identity and allow them to remain nameless. For the record, Rule number 6 has long since been thrown out of the window, and Rule 4 is the rule most frequently invoked.

Tales of the Unexpected

Entering this running world, I anticipated changes both good and bad. I expected aches and pains, but somehow failed to expect the aches and pains that I actually got. Some of the other notable changes include:

1. The inability to order a sandwich at Wawa.

The first time I tried was like using an entirely new computer operating system. I was familiar with the machine, but it kept offering me the usual delicious choices of meatball subs, Italian hoagies, and Chicken Parmesan. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find how to order a sandwich, made with wheat bread (as per Dr. Bob and Tom’s nutritionist's instructions). Even when I did find it, the automated sandwich selector kept on trying to make it less healthy – would you like oil or mayo, bacon, extra meat, half a pound of cheese, hot sauce? All great ideas, but none of them are on my diet sheet.

2. The hijack of my Internet?

There was a time when I’d be embracing the World Wide Web, only to be distracted by pop up images and banners showing me new gadgets or electronic items that I didn’t know I wanted or t-shirts with the latest ironic statement about a d-list or recently dead celebrity. After buying a pair of trainers online, mapping my run (long since abandoned), and reading the roadmap from couch to 5k, everything has now changed. Now the edges of my internet browser seem to be filled with pictures of a sweaty Lance Armstrong, thin people running into dramatic sunsets, or gallon jugs of powder that offer me boosts of stamina and energy (and probably an asterisk next to my finish time).

3. Misery loves company.

One of the associated benefits of embarking on this project was going to be the opportunity to reintroduce myself to the long lost tracks on my iPod. Music that had been buried below latest releases would resurface and help drive me toward the finish line. The artist or song didn’t matter as much as the tempo and rhythm. It would be the playlist that I’d never even considered creating – all upbeat, all the time, like a metronome producing a rhythm to run by. Weeks 1 through 4 followed the plan, but as I began to spiral mentally downward my feet began to dance a shuffle and not the tango I’d hoped for. The musical story of a relationship meltdown by Pete Yorn and Scarlett Johansson quickly replaced the upbeat pop and rock I started out with and I became much happier knowing that someone else is miserable too.

4. Accepting the unexpected.

There has to be an upside right? Running is still strange to me, a very isolated and anti-social activity. Even when running with someone (or behind Dani – partly due to athletic ability, partly due to the view) you tend to be very alone. Still nobody smiles or waves, but I’ve realised that they will if you smile and wave hard enough at them. There have been precisely 2½ instances of running on auto-pilot where my legs just seemed to be doing their thing and I felt good. I’ve lost some weight and my lungs feel strong. I also think that this 26.2 mile thing is doable. I’m looking forward to the Christmas and New Year break from running – my coach insisted.

This t-shirt thing is addicting. Here's a chance to earn another cool one this weekend -- click on the Reindeer, then on the online registration button to register for this 5k for a good cause. This is also a chance to run with some of the guys from Back on My Feet, an organization that I have recently become involved with. Back on My Feet uses running to promote confidence, self-esteem, and self-sufficiency among the homeless population here in Philadelphia. I've only been running with BOMF for a few weeks, but I can already attest to the fact that they make miracles happen--my getting out of bed to run with the group at 5am is nothing short of one. I'll write more about them later, but Saturday is a chance to see some of the runners in action...

Thankful for...iPods...ice packs...Body Glide...GU...

This Thanksgiving, a few of us will begin our Thursday with a strange new holiday tradition. Where Thanksgiving mornings were once a time for football games, foggy heads, and crowded sofas, a number of the Paris 12 will be waking early, lacing up their sneakers, and going for a five mile run--not a precedent shattering distance, and not significant in comparison to some of our recent personal bests (well done, Fred, showing the half-marathon who's boss), but it's a gesture that seems like evidence that some of us are taking to running and, dare I say, might even be thankful for it. Maybe. I still feel like one who runs, and not even close to calling myself runner, one of those speedy bounders who don't slobber or wheeze or wince when they are passed by a woman jogging with her Maltese (had one pass me just last night). The gulf between our world and the runner's world might yet be a yawning one, but let's remember that we all started at zero miles three months ago, and some of us are now running six, seven, or twelve miles in one clip without need of medical assistance. The marathon might still feel ridiculous, but so did five miles once. So let's be thankful for our progress, and remain open-minded to the absurdity that is 26.2.

Welcome home to Cristin, recently back from Dubai, and congratulations on your nuptuals! Happy birthday to Joe! Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Ice, ice baby.

So, yesterday I finally was able to see my doctor after getting checked out initially two months ago, ordered to do x-rays and an MRI, and the standard cancellations, rescheduling and organizational chaos that seem central to trying to get anything done in this region. After all that, I don't know if I am much clearer on what is going on with my knee. It appears to be an overuse injury (duh?). My doctor said there was patellar pressure. He didn't mention any conditions that have become familiar to me after all my obsessive online research so I'm still a bit mystified. He did however make me feel like a complete idiot for trying to train for a marathon. The exact flow of the conversation is now lost to me but I can share with you some highlights of his pep talk:

-why would I want to do this? (he asked this about 4 times)
-a marathon is a completely unhealthy and unnatural thing to do to your body
-the first person to ever run a marathon died right after finishing
-he has treated a man who ran 2-3 marathons and now cannot walk properly
-I could give myself arthritis later in life by training for a marathon
-it would take a year to be ready
-basically I will never be ready by April
-why don't I just go swimming?

Awesome. He should write for the New York Times. Maybe it doesn't sound that bad, but to me it was a bit devastating. I was hoping to finally find out what is wrong and be told how to stay healthy and keep going. Instead, I felt totally confused and disheartened. I knew I'd have to explain myself to some people as to why I'd want to do this. I just didn't plan on a doctor having such a completely negative reaction.

My knee has been manageable for the past few weeks. By manageable I mean icing it 3-4 times a day and ignoring its existence for the first 5-10 minutes of each run. My bag of frozen peas is my best friend these days. I am just about up to running 4 miles straight. I know you are all well past that but I hope I can catch up eventually! As long as it doesn't get worse I think I can keep going. Kneeling during my wedding ceremony will be interesting though! My hometown of Westfield, NJ hosts a 5-mile "Turkey Trot" every Thanksgiving. I'm going to give it a shot. I feel like my running is about as graceful as a turkey so it seems fitting that this will be my first race.

I thought the hardest part of this project would be sticking to the plan and putting in the time and effort. I thought that once I decided to go through with it, my body would just comply and deal with the punishment. But navigating the minefield of running injuries has become my greatest challenge. I just want my knee to stop bugging me and let me get on with it! My fear of it keeping me back is just about equal to my fear of actually having to run for 5 hours.

On a happier note, my wedding is coming up in about 2 weeks. I'm looking forward to being home in a week and experiencing my first run outside (that isn't preceded by crazy Dubai drivers nearly running me over). And I hope I will be able to finally meet and go for a run with my fellow teammates! I will be in Philly November 27-28. I'd love to get together the morning of the 28th. Hope to see you then!

Congratulations to those who "Ran the Bridge" yesterday. Great job. And a big thank you to Fred for eating raisins after his race. I have been trying to get my kids to eat raisins for years. I keep putting them in their school snacks, and finding the unopened boxes in their lunch boxes after school. Until yesterday, that is. In the car on the way home from the run, Katie was plowing through her second box of raisins. I asked her why the sudden change and she replied, "If Fred likes raisins, I like raisins."

My response to NYT Article

Ok, I suppose I see the point of the "runners". If running is your profession, I can see how allowing a gaggle of neophytes into your playground could ruffle your feathers.



However, I find it difficult to sympathize for a variety of reasons.

1. First off, those elite runners (henceforth we'll call them "Lowells" for the sake of brevity)who compete in the marathon are given special priveleges above and beyond the normal entrant. They are sponsored, catered to, put in the front of the line, interviewed after the run, and carted off to a four star hotel before Johnny Waddlecheeks has even passed the halfway point.
2. It may be a professional sport, but the professional aspect comes from sponsors, not people paying good money for tickets to watch people complete this ridiculous task. For example, it's not like the NFL is having problems with packs of gangly Kenyan marathoners trying to suit up for gameday (actually, i'd pay money to see that!). Reason: it's not open to the public. There is a guantlet of challenges that tests a person's ability to play at a professional level in football. Anyone can get up one morning and decide to start training for a marathon. And since marathons ARE open to the public, anyone can enter one. Whether or not you're going to get paid to do it basically comes down to natural ability - which brings me to my third point...
3. I look at these guys who run marathons professionally and I say to myself, these guys are doing what they're born to do. Yes, it is a feat to be able to shoot for a world record for a marathon. But for some strange reason, I'm not that impressed. I think it's hard for the average "Lowell" to appreciate what a daunting task running a marathon is for the average person. Sometimes when I'm out there running, I actually starting thinking of the things that I would rather be doing (i.e. pulling my fingernails out with a pair of pliers, getting a root canal, etc). For this guy (pictured) running a marathon is literally a walk in the park. For me, it really is like climbing Mount Everest. He's probably 110 lbs soaking wet, lean, long and built for endurance. I was 110lbs in 5th grade. I am large framed, knocked kneed, heavy boned and have the metabolic rate of a hibernating grizzly bear. So I ask you? Who is accomplishing the greater feat in running the marathon?

So bottom line: The NYT can shove it.

That's my take.

Mike

As if running a marathon wasn't hard enough...

...it turns out that some people don't want you to attempt it! I was glad to see this article inspired over four hundred responses on NYT.com, almost all in defense of people who would attempt a marathon at any pace (my favorite rebuttal takes a shot at the smug track coach). Screaming knees, swollen shins, aching brains, raw undercarriages--and we're up against running snobs, too? I don't know if this makes me want to run faster, or take my sweet damn time. Thoughts?

Falling off the wagon

Well, I completely fell off the running wagon for the last few weeks, logging only 10.5 miles out of a total 19 miles. Needless to say, after missing so many workouts, I felt a bit...loose



I have no real excuse, other than the following excellent excuses:



1. The weather was crappy


2. I was travelling a lot for work


3. My couch called me with it's sweet siren song and I was unable to resist.



Dani, I too have felt the running high, only to be bitch smacked by a running low unlike any I've ever felt. A few Sunday's ago, I ran my first 5 miles and was jamming. Aches and pains minimal, stride smooth and delibrate, and mental state strong. The next time I went running, I was expecting the same thing only to have the polar opposite happen. Dejection does not adequately describe how I felt when I walked in the door.



However, I pushed through it, and even though I was out on the West Coast for business all week, I managed to get out and get my groove on again. Onwards.



Tom, I've been thinking about your request for book names. Whilst running today, I found myself asking once again, "why the hell am I doing this", to which I replied to myself, "because it's there", to which I began thinking about the first person to utter those words, Sir Edmund Hillary, when asked about why was he climbing Mt Everest. To which I began to think about Tom's thesis. When I got home, I looked up "sedentary", and then came to this realization: maybe so many people are doing marathons because to the "sedentary" 26.2 miles might as well be Mt Everest. Only this Everest, you don't need piles of cash, a plane ride to Nepal, burly mountain guides, oxygen tanks, and major cold weather gear. All you really need is a pair of sneakers and the will to step out of your front door and start training. So maybe try to incorporate Everest into the title. Some ideas: Asphalt Everest, Everyman's Everest, Our Everest. Just a thought.

Anyway, I'm all signed up for the Bridge run. I'm looking forward to it.

And eventually, perhaps we should discuss as a group, the elephant in the room.

Mike

Wohoo! The runners high..

Usually I would use this blog to rant and rave about stupid running!
But today I have to report a little personal success...my first ever "RUNNERS HIGH"...at least I think this was it..
After having a great morning at the horse barn (sorry I couldn't be there for the group run..) I decided to put on my winter running clothes, which by the way are not quite figured out yet, I forced myself to go for my run. I drove out to the Wissahickon drive, since running in the streets of Philadelphia gets really old.. I have to admit I was a bit scared to go by myself, but then I thought: if I get abducted or kidnapped at least I don't have to keep on running.

So I set out in the cold...
I ran for 6 miles with only 6min walking spread throughout..and I think I experienced my first runners high! I know 6miles is not a lot for most of you guys, but for me it is pretty unbelievable.

When I started some 2+ month ago with 60sec running, 90sec walking, I honestly thought it is complete BS what people say about: "The first 10min are always hard, but then you get into a rhythm and it will get easier"
Well...proven wrong.

I anticipate continuous stuggles and some hate mixed in and still can't wrap my head around running for 5 hrs, but it feels so good to at least once in a while have a good time doing the impossible

Get your race on

Some of us felt the thrill of crossing the finish line (and some of us felt the sting of being lapped by one of our freshman) at the Kristin's Krusade 5k at St. Joseph's University last weekend. As Mike so eloquently blogged, there is something about running a real race that makes this whole right-left-right endeavor feel slightly less absurd, like it's almost a real sport or something. Getting involved in more short races will not only fill out our wardrobe with hard-earned t-shirts and keep our bellies full of free bananas, but racing might suck some of the anguish out of all this torture by trotting.



First, I've signed up for RUN THE BRIDGE on November 1st--a 10k run over the Ben Franklin Bridge--and you should, too. I expect my fear of heights (and my fear of Camden) to keep me moving at a record clip. Then on November 15th, I hope you can join me for the SCHUYKILL RIVER LOOP RUN, an eight mile race beginning at Boathouse Row (also Philadelphia's oldest road race. And though it's now closed, come on out on the 22nd as I watch Fred speed off into the distance at the Philadelphia Half-Marathon. Seeing the shapes and sizes that endeavor to marathon might give us all a little hope.

My first blog ever

Hi all. I finally broke down and got the Forerunner. I find that it was easier running without it, as I am now constantly looking down at my mileage and saying 3 ****ing miles left??!! What's that saying-ignorance is bliss?

After reading Mike's ever so eloquent blog I figured I should start thinking of a reason to finish this race. There is always the cancer route. The idea that finishing the race would prove me victorious in my battle against breast cancer. But that's too sappy. And I always said to myself that I wouldn't let that stupid disease define me.

Then there is the "I want to challenge myself" approach. Been there, done that. I found strength I never knew I had last year. I was challenged physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I know I'm strong enough. The question is will my knees hold up?

Mike's thoughts on being a hero to Ben are great, but I am not feeling that for myself. I feel that my kids will love and respect me not because of what I do and who I am, but despite it.

So where does this leave me in terms of reasons to finish this stinkin race? I have come up with only one answer. Bragging rights.

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.

Not in the club.

If you’ve never driven a Mini Cooper, a motorcycle or (in England) a pre 1985 Land Rover, I suggest you do so. You’ll suddenly find people nodding their heads, flashing their lights and honking their horn at you in a bizarre form of camaraderie. You didn’t do anything special, no real effort was needed, but you are welcomed into a club of like-minded enthusiasts. I hoped that running would be the same.

I’ve been running during my lunch hour in the Huntingdon Valley suburbs, along the New Jersey Boardwalk, along Kelly Drive, and have now crossed paths with many doing the same thing. I think that I have demonstrated a willingness to cross the threshold and enter this world; I have my fancy shoes, particularly short shorts, and a shirt of the lightest and most breathable materials made by man. I am clearly taking this seriously, or at least trying to, but not a nod, wink, raised hand or slight acknowledgement from a single one of my running brethren. I’m disappointed and it makes me dislike runners a little more than I did before I joined the team. I understand that people are in their ‘zone’, but in my opinion it’s just a little bit rude. I’m interested to see if my opinion has changed by the end of the project, but in case you see a wheezy 6 ft Englishman running towards you on Kelly drive, nodding and waving as if possessed by a demon, please do not be alarmed, just nod or wave back.

ADDENDUM: I mentioned this to Dani, who informed me that six or seven people nodded or smiled at her as she ran along Kelly Drive on Saturday. Feeling that the running fraternity was anti-social and ignorant was one thing, but to know it is also sexist and a little bit pervy makes it worse.

Technology.

It seems that everyone is adopting technological aides to help them train. I noticed that Joe and Tom were both sporting fancy GPS enabled watches this weekend that tell them how far they’ve run and what they had for dinner. Knowing how far I’ve run will be quickly translated by the cognitive gremlins in my head into how far I still have to go. As such, I shall be giving the collaboration between Nike and Apple a trial. I have the chip inside the sole of my shoe, I just need to get the iPod to make it work. Apparently, of the four iPods in our house, zero are compatible with the Nike+ software that needs to be installed. I like the idea of the PowerSong feature that can give me “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor instantly at any time I need extra motivation.

Extra Motivation?

Eddie Izzard is one of my favorite comedians. For those who don’t know him I would definitely recommend adding one of his live shows to your Netflix queue. Apparently he’s a novice runner that decided to run around the UK and Ireland to raise money and awareness for charity. His blog is here. Apparently he’s averaging a Marathon a day! I’m not sure what the attraction of journeying around the edge of small European countries is, but I wonder if he read the book about that crazy American who played golf around Ireland?

Kick Asphalt. Shall We?

After our soggy, wind-sucking 2.5 mile training run this Saturday, I'm sure everyone feels ready for the Philadelphia Marathon on November 22nd. Or maybe not. But along with the big marathon, there is a half-marathon and an 8k (5 mile) race going on as well (I believe there used to be a marathon relay, which would have been good for us, but they aren't offering it this year). I think we should all mark this on our calendars as our first benchmark on our way to Paris -- it will give us a chance to experience a race, run together, and get a really cool t-shirt. I'm going to try to get ready for the half-marathon, but I hope everyone by November will at least be up for the five-miler. This is also the morning after my sister-in-law Cristin's wedding, so though she will be home from Dubai, I doubt she will be making the five am drive back to Philadelphia with me for the race--though I think if we can get her to run in her veil, that would be very flickr worthy. Any takers? Don't wait too long to sign up, which you can do here.

Rocky Steps

Rocky Steps
Originally uploaded by hilljulian

Some video from the end of our first day of training as a group. Considering Rocky only made it halfway on his first try, we're already ahead of the curve. Notice Fred running Mary Poppins style...

A hot and sandy 'salam' to you all!

Hello everyone! This is my first time blogging as well. It took me about 20 minutes (and the help of an Arabic-speaking co-worker) to switch my Blogger menus from Arabic to English. But here I am! I'd like to report that this week I have done something I have never done before (besides run voluntarily). I woke up and went to the gym before work...TWICE. You'll understand how amazing that is when you see what awaits me once I sleepwalk my way to the gym. It's my new best friend: scary LifeFitness poster girl. For the next couple months, she and I will be seeing quite a lot of each other. Since the weather here is currently what I like to call "walking through boiling hot jello", I have to run indoors. The gym in our building complex is pretty nice but the views are a bit unfortunate. I am either staring at a sand-colored wall (because I don't get enough of that color) and the aforementioned poster. Or I am looking at people lounging around the lap pool. But I am soldiering on. I have been doing the run/walk thing and slowly but surely, I am increasing the length of time I run. It is now in the double-digits! Woo hoo! Sigh. Baby steps. Running IS really hard.

I've purchased some insanely overpriced running gear. So far I have abstained from buying the Commodore 2000-on-your-wrist running watch. Which is a very un-Dubai thing to do. They probably have a version here that's covered in gold or swarovski crystals. My fiance, Bob, and I hit the Saucony store for some new kicks. He is my ever-positive training buddy and will be running the marathon as well. The sales guy asked how long I usually run and I was so excited to say 3K. Just a week or so ago it was 0! I then saw the embarrassed shock on his face and I felt the overwhelming urge to run...out of the store. I have an appointment for a physical next week at the American Hospital. I felt this location was a safe bet. I didn't want the phrase "you cannot run a marathon" to be lost in translation. I'll let you know how that goes. I am anticipating blowing the infamous Tom Coyne body fat percentage out of the water.

Anyway, I hope you are all well. I'll be sad to miss out on the big kick-off this weekend. As you enjoy all that green scenery and fresh air, just think of me and the LifeFitness girl. I hope to be able to run with you guys in November when I'll be home for a couple of weeks. By that time, the scary poster and I will have parted ways and I'll be able to brag about the lovely temperate Dubai running weather. But then I'll be complaining about all the hidden construction ditches and lack of sidewalks. Ah well. I hope we do end up running the marathon in Paris. I read that they serve wine and cheese at the 30K mark. WINE! And CHEESE! Come on now people. Allons-y!!!

Some thoughts

My first time blogging, so bear with me.

Running does indeed suck. It sucks out loud in the 90+ degree heat. I'm hoping that at some point I turn the corner and actually look forward to going for a run. Is it possible to turn that corner after being a lifelong run-hater? That’s question #1 for Mr. All American once we start our coaching sessions. I have gotten out about 3-4 times in the last few weeks. Nothing too fancy – a couple miles of 75% running, 25% walking. I would like to get it to at least every other day. Right ankle and both knees are feeling the heat, but I’m pushing through it. Two of our kids just got sick simultaneuously (fevers, barfing, and the whole sha-bang) so we've trailed off a little this past week.

I like that Garmin thing you have Tom. I'm going to get it soon. I find that most things in life are much more enjoyable if you are able to quantify them with numbers and metrics. The more numbers I have, the more I will try to improve those numbers. Yay technology!

Under Armor compression shorts rule. I like to call them "compression shorts" because it sounds much more manly than "spandex". Easy gliding, low resistance, the right kind of grab in the right spots. I have found however, that taking them off produces the exact opposite effect for a man as taking off a bathing suit after jumping in a cold pool. As Carl Spackler says, “…so I got that going for me…”. Too much, too soon? Ah well.

Kim and I have our appointment with Mr. Bair on Friday. I have found myself waking up at night with visions of him laughing me out of the office upon first seeing me.

Note to self: no more buying Oreo Double Stuffs “for the kids” anymore. If I have to eat organic, then damn it, so do they!

Running is Hard

After 3 long weeks of "training" I'm a bit nervous that I still can't run 1 mile in a row. I've made some small lifestyle changes like getting up before noon and not smoking on my way to the gym. I've also discovered Aspercreme. I'm a bit frustrated with my lack of progress and thinking that I need to step this up a bit.

As for the Distance Run - I think Tom has COMPLETELY LOST HIS MIND. I can finally think about this whole endeavor without getting nauseous, and he's making bold and sudden movements. My goal was to run 3 miles without stopping by the end of September. 13miles? Really?

I guess the good news is that my boyfriend has generously agreed (if need be) to give me a good swift kick to the ribs that might make training impossible. Is anyone else struggling?

Anyone?

This might be wildly ambitious, but the Philadelphia Distance Run is September 20th if anyone is interested. Upside, it's a Rock 'n Roll race with bands every couple miles, you get a cool medal. Downside, they don't let you take a golf cart. Not sure if I can get up to half-marathon speed in a month's time, but I could be persuaded to try...

See you Saturday for our first group run/walk/get-together. 9:30am, at the start of Boat House Row. Look for the group of slightly confused, slightly frightened people with the tags still on their running gear.

Today I ran a few times around my block. Progress not perfection...at least not yet.
Tomorrow going to try to join people but may do it alone.
Looking forward to meeting everyone.

Oh the HEAT!

ok, this is my first beef with this running thing...
Whoever had the idea to start training to RUN in the middle of August?? I won't mention any names, but...come on...
It is bad enough to not be able to breath during normal activities, like walking from the subway to work - emphasis on walking - when it is 93 degrees outside. But no...I have to go running and I have to do it in the heat...even at 8am this morning the air in the city was so thick, I felt like I was visiting Cristin in Dubai..

This weekend we had the perfect running scenario: we spent 3 days in Asbury Park and went jogging along the boardwalk. I tell you...perfect! Cool seabreeze, wooden planks under the feet and lots of other sporty types that give you motivation, as you don't want to look like a complete slob by stopping after every fifth step...
I think I learned that in the future I will either move to the beach or use an airconditioned treadmill.
Everybody seems to say to me that it will get easier. I really hope so. Although I have to admit that I do feel great after my run and a shower, but breathing does not come natural for me. And I am still doing about 28 minutes of a walk/run intervall. I decided to do the "couch to 5K" training scheule. It sounded sooo easy..:( I am curious to see if coach Lowell says this is BS.
I am excited for fall..and the cooler weather.. Can't believe I just said that. I love the summer..

Paper Kenyan

I'm going to apologize in advance for all my grammatical abortions.

Last week I started to get serious about my upcoming training regiment. I started the week at Wholefoods buying organic fruits, vegetables, and pine nuts. I went home with a lighter wallet and the makings of a huge salad that lasted me 2 weeks.

I acquired some new running shoes from the upscale French department store, Target, and some !!!EXTREME!!! Under Armour spandex from Modells. As a male, I've been hearing the worst part of a marathon is chafing and bloody nipples so Astro-glide and Pasties may be next on my shopping list.

So just yesterday, I ran my first "session" of about 2 miles around Penns Landing with my new wife Katie. It has been really hot in Philly lately, but I'd rather sweat than freeze (can't wait for Winter runs). I almost cramped up before I got home and my legs were a bit sore today. Instead of my inner thigh's cursing at me, my armpits were the ones shouting obsenities. It made me think I should invent lubrication for armpits, maybe call it "Old Spice Glide" or something more catchy.

First one 4 me

So here is my first stab at this. I really don't have much to say except I have only taken one run. I'll report back tomorrow after first am run!

Medically able to perform.

I ventured to the Riddle Health Center in the ungodly early hours of Thursday morning. It was a small price to pay for what I expected to be an early, yet honorable discharge from Tom Coyne's band of merry men and women.

For 36 years, I've managed to avoid excellence in the pursuit of physical fitness. I played football (aka Soccer) for some excellent trophy winning teams growing up. The high standard of these teams, did little to improve my physical condition, in fact it worked squarely against it. As goalkeeper, I often spent 90 minutes picking daisies or leaning against a goalpost as my team spent the entire game in the opponents half, scoring at will. I then took up Cricket, which I played through school and University. As a game that is very foreign to US viewers, all that needs to be known is that the game can last between 2 hours and 5 days, but takes regular breaks for lunch, tea, drinks and rain (not uncommon in the North West of England). The sport didn't push me to the edge of physical perfection; I became better at playing cards, pool, and darts, and it was on the edge of a green pasture on the outskirts of Manchester, England, that I nurtured my love of sitting down with a beer, watching sport. Throw in some running about, walking from the golf cart to the beer girl, swimming at the shore, good intentions abandoned after day one of a new gym membership, and we have summed up my 36 year training program to date.

There was no way that any sane medical practitioner in the litigious State of Pennsylvania was going to sign off on letting me run a marathon. Tom gave us a number of different options, but if I wanted my vehicle to fail its inspection, I wasn't heading to the back street mechanic who's been putting lemons back on the road for years. I wanted the 200 point inspection and the cautious approach of an employee in a $1.2 bn organization that had more to lose. Bob Bair, Director of Fitness Services at The Riddle Health Center was going to be the guy that broke the news to me. After being poked, prodded, mocked and electrocuted (painlessly), I learned the following. I have the flexibility of an I-Beam, I have the physical range of someone 20 years older than me, and I'm not as fat as Tom Coyne. As I waited for the sad news I'd paid $50 for, Bob asked if I'd like to come back for a mid point and post marathon evaluation. I detected that my hearing had also failed, in the same way that my hamstrings had earlier. When Bob invited the team to use the training facilities at Riddle for free, I suspected that my hearing wasn't playing tricks. Despite questioning his medical opinion, sanity and medical qualifications, Bob told me that I had the green light to start training.

Without a 'Get out of Jail Free' card and the starting pistol officially fired, the finish line is now exactly that. 8 months and 26.2 miles away. Despite laughing and joking about the escapade, I'm actually very nervous about pushing myself physically beyond any point I have in the past. I'm concerned about months of aches and pains. Now that my exit strategy was nixxed, I'm nervous about not being able to do it. I'm encouraged at news from Dubai about Cristin running into a beige horizon; Joe in Chicago who has managed to find a way to train and play Fifa 2009 at the same time (genius); Jeannie from the Collar usually seen sitting on the front row of seats in Left field, or at the bar, already into a training plan that has her flying down Kelly Drive with other athletes; and by a girlfriend who I suspect will be carrying me across the aforementioned finish line.

Running of the Credit Card Variety

It was around the sixth hole when I announced to my foursome that this would be my last round of golf for some time, explaining that I would soon be closeting the clubs and taking to the running paths. The golfers responded with silence, the infidelity of my admission hanging in the air. Running before golf? Sacrilege. The wisest and most accomplished player in our group cocked his chin and looked at me. “The day I start running,” he said, “is the day I see somebody smiling while they’re doing it.”

In this quest to understand why running is often done voluntarily, I have already identified a handful of running’s charms. First, and most obviously, you really do feel better afterward. My mightiest uninterrupted distance to date has been a whopping 1.5 miles, and it has taken ten days to get to that number, but I have already become reacquainted with that welcome headiness produced by thirty minutes of aerobic suffering. You sleep better. Eat better. Beer tastes better. (I know I’m in training, but give me a break—and it really does). I’ve also felt flashes of athletic coolness, bounding around Kelly Drive, zipping past Rocky statue posers, barking out a bossy “On your left!” to pedestrians, only to have them pass me a few minutes down the path as I hold two fistfuls of knee fat and suck for air. But there have been moments, mere seconds, where I felt fleet of foot, a runner within wanting to get out and sprint with the cool kids. Yet what I have found to be running’s most instantly and easily likable side is the simple egalitarian spirit of the whole thing—it’s something of the anti-golf in this regard, a less exclusive, less expensive, less complicated pastime impossible to imagine. But after so many years collecting golf gadgetry, and after so many equipment shopping sprees in search of hope and talent, it made sense that my first step into the runner’s world involved a fit of wanton consumption.

As I’m an absolute track neophyte in a race to become a pseudo-authority, I scooped up the top twenty selling running books on Amazon (I have a book-buying problem as it is, and a new project is a great enabler). So far, I highly recommend Christopher McDougall’s recent bestseller, BORN TO RUN. It combines a running education with a fascinating narrative, following his journey into the remote mountains of Mexico in search of a lost tribe of super-runners who do upwards of 100 miles a day on their bare feet. It’s great motivation, and he’s a Philadelphia guy. Even took my sister to her prom. Seriously. Small world.

I haven’t read it yet, but I’m excited about the title of THE NON-RUNNER’S MARATHON TRAINER, and I’ve been reading from THE RUNNER’S BOOK OF DAILY INSPIRATION, which is just about as hokey as it sounds, but I am getting something out of it. I don’t consider myself a morning affirmation guy, but then again, I didn’t consider myself a sneaker guy, either. GALLOWAY’S BOOK ON RUNNING also seems like a decent primer for us newcomers.

After some satisfying one-click shopping, I proceeded to the Philadelphia Runner’s Store where I entered seeking counsel on running coaches, clubs, gear, etc., but found myself too shy to confess to my endeavor. I declined the help of the svelte team of salespeople, afraid that they wouldn’t believe that a man who looks like he’s in his second trimester was shopping for an upcoming marathon. I quietly handed over the most money I’d ever spent for a pair of socks (Belega Hidden Comfort—for the price, I expected some anti-gravity or trampoline effect, but they are damn comfy), bought a few packages of ShotBlocks (gelatinous cubes of energy goo that got me around Ireland in 2007, in tasty flavors like cranberry and cola), a couple pairs of running shorts (gents, may I recommend a pair with lining, makes all the difference), and a bar of Body Glide anti-chaffing balm (not trying to gross anyone out here, but if you’ve just started running, you might wonder if such a product exists—it does, and it’s magic).

My meatiest investment to date has been the GARMIN 305 FORERUNNER, a GPS enabled training watch with a heart rate monitor (Joe has also picked up a Forerunner—Joe, your two cents?). It’s slightly bulky on your wrist, but it is light and hasn’t bothered me while running. It gives you accurate distance down to the step, so you don’t have to guess or estimate or have that fight with your brain about how far you have or haven’t traveled. The heart rate monitor has also been handy, and when you finish your run, you can upload your watch to a website that tracks all your stats, calories, pace, heart rate, etc., and shows your route on a map. Garmin makes a wide range of these trainers in different sizes and price ranges. I’m not sure it’s worth the money, but it has been good for me in that I don’t have to get to a metered running path to know how far I’ve gone. And it helps you look the part, which is really all I’m after right now anyway. (Another good, and free, option is to use http://www.mapmyrun.com/, which allows you to draw your route on a map, and find out how far you’ve gone.)

It looks like our first group run/get together is going to be on the morning of SATURDAY, AUGUST 22^nd. I’ll get back to you with time and place, but circle that date on your calendar if you get a chance. In the meantime, look into your health/fitness evaluations, try some run/walking if you’re up for it, or just go shopping. That seems to work, too.