Day Ninety Nine - Here Comes The Pain Again
My blog is self referential and hip.
See, way back in the beginning of this whole endeavor I titled my very second post "Here Comes The Pain" because I was really sore after our first day of running.
Then just last week I titled a post "Here Comes The Rain Again" after the Eurythmics song, because it seems like it's been raining a lot lately while I've been out running.
So now today, I title the post for Saturday's run "Here Comes The Pain Again" because I'm really sore and sorta funny.
So yeah, Saturday was our "Trails" day. The Team members all carpooled (is that one word) out to Jersey to run on these crazy nature trails out near Rutgers. I met up with Jen and Drew around 6:45 Saturday morning and we took a cab up to Charlotte's place where we mooched a ride off of her because she has a car and stuff. On the ride we discussed bad tattoos with Charlotte winning the prize for best "Worst Tattoo Story." The Grinch, smoking a joint. You could try to top that, but you would fail. Fortunately for everyone, this is not a tattoo that she has on her person, but rather one that she saw.
We got to the meeting spot and started stretching as Ramon explained the course. And it go a little sump like dis: 4 miles out (approx.) there would be a water station. Then another one at the 6 mile mark and the third and final station at the 7.5 mile mark. A mile and a half past that we'd find a fence where we would turn around and come back. 9 miles out, 9 back. Quick math tells us what? 18 miles total. The folks running the Honolulu marathon would continue on for another mile after that, but I didn't pay too much attention to their instructions because they didn't really effect me personally.
Then we started running.
We ran for a long...long time.
I made the mistake of starting near the front of the pack and pacing myself with some of the more experienced runners. We were going at a 9:30 or 10 minute mile, so not breaking any land speed records, but a good clip for the distance we were covering. The first few miles felt pretty rugged and my legs were heavy. I wasn't finding the groove and was pretty much terrified of the distance. Was finally able to lose myself in thoughts other than "take another step, good, now again, with the left foot" at about the 3 mile mark and finally felt like I might be able to cover the miles. Hit the first water station as Ramon was pulling into the parking lot next to it and he hollared something in our general direction, but I have no idea what it was. It felt good to know I had covered 4 miles in less than 40 minutes, but the thought of another 14 was less comforting. A few minutes later I got my goo on and plowed ahead.
Between here and the turnaround point not much happened. I ran. I felt OK. My drawers kept hitching up on me and I had the not too pleasant realization that I probably could have used a little more vaseline between my legs - yeah, I'm taking you there with me today kids. Of course, this realization is particularly unsettling knowing you've got about 11 miles to go on the run. And having taken a shower after rubbing my legs raw once before, I knew exactly what I was looking forward to. And yet I kept running. I know Lance Armstrong beat testicular cancer and all that, but seriously, I think I just redefined the heart of a champion.
About a mile or two before the turnaround there was a somewhat severe decline in the trail and then just as quickly an incline. There was water on both sides of the trail (it was a very pretty run) and there were all these dam type things along the way to even the levels out...or something. Anyway, I realized on the down slope that I had a bit of a problem developing in my legs. My thighs were OK as long as I was moving forward on a flat surface, but when I went downhill I realized that they had sort of tightened up on me. I figured I was pushing myself a little too hard, but at the same time figured that the damage had been done and I might as well keep up the pace.
Yeah, I'm real stupid.
So I got out to the 9 mile marker and the crew I was running with continued on as they were doing 20. I goo'd up again and started back. About 5 minutes into the 2nd half of the run I passed a group who asked me how far they were from the marker. I told them 2 or 3 minutes because I can't count. I then passed Drew and we did that thing where we made fists and bumped our knuckles together. While running. Badasses. Big time.
Here's where I get a little crazy. On the way out, about a mile from the turnaround, a girl had passed me on her way back. I have noticed her over the past few weeks and she is a heck of a runner. So I didn't feel so bad knowing she was whipping my ass time wise. It's not about speed, after all, it's about covering the miles. But, I do get competitive. Besides her, I was the first person coming back from the 18 mile marker. I wasn't concerning myself with "winning" or anything like that, I just wanted to maintain my pace, and seeing the other people 5 and 10 and 15 minutes behind me on my way back, I wanted to make sure that I didn't get passed by too many coming back as it would indicate a real slow down on my part.
Make sense? Probably not, but it is what it is.
I guess it was the 12 mile marker or so when I realized I was in some serious trouble. First of all, for all the talk about how running on the trails would be easier on our legs and joints, I was hurting in a big way from the surface. The tops of my feet were KILLING me because I was using all sorts of muscles to balance, correct myself and overcompensate for pebbles and roots I was stepping on. Second, my ankles were feeling it too...although that could have been the distance, I don't know. Finally, my knees, which have been my nemesys since this started were starting to sing as well. This pain, together with the soreness in my thighs, was telling me that finishing this run was going to be a big problem. Especially with 6 miles left.
At the final water station I stopped to hydrate and suck down one final goo. I talked to Christine (another coach) about how I screwed up my pace and she warned me to be careful of that on race day as I will definitely want to do the second half of the run faster than the first. I don't know where I'm gonna get that discipline, but I gotta find it somewhere soon. At this point another runner showed up at the water station. One of the 20 milers. Great. I was getting smoked by a guy running 2 more miles than I was. Talk about demoralizing. Christine wished me a good 4 miles and I was off.
And that's when it all slammed into me at full force. My groin had tightened up while I was chatting and that was sort of the final straw. I did what I could to create the illusion of running, but mostly I was just moving forward. 20 Mile Guy blew past me a minute later and I watched him get smaller and smaller on the trail ahead of me. I stopped and walked across a rock walkway on the path that stretched about a quarter of a mile or so then did my best to finish running. That last 4 miles were a bear and I would have gladly run the first 14 again instead of them. I had heard that you hit a wall at 16 miles, and while I'm sure that was a huge part of it, the soreness in my groin and the pain in my joints were telling me that I had gone about this run all wrong. I was so relieved to see the finish, but I was also scared to stop moving as I figured I would tighten up even more.
I got back to the parking lot and stretched the best I could. The coaches and mentors had brought food for us (a feast of delicious carbs) and I rocked a bagel and about a liter of gatorade. I waited and talked to some other folks about the run and heard some injury horror stories. I actually loosened up a bit after stretching and was feeling OK...sore, but OK. Jen, Drew and Charlotte all finished together and I found out Drew wrecked his IT band pretty good, so I was feeling even better about my condition. That's a tough injury and I could tell he was hurting. But he sucked it up and finished (20 miles actually!) and I'm sure he'll be OK. Jen and Char were great too and in tremendous spirits.
The ride home was smelly, but for the most part everyone was in good spirits despite Drew's injury and I think more than anything we were all sorta proud of ourselves for finishing the run. It's amazing to think that 3 months ago we had a hard time with 5 miles and now Jen is saying things like "at the end of it I knew I could have gone another 2 miles." That's amazing. Yeah, I screwed up my pace and have a lot or work to do before Phoenix, but all in all, I'm happy with Saturday. We all had our own challenges and we came through relatively strong. And that's something.
When they dropped me off in Manhattan I got out of the car and realized how shitty the next two days were going to be as far as getting around was concerned. I wasn't wrong. It's Monday around noon as I write this and my knees are still a little achey and my thighs are still slightly tight. But I can take stairs again and tonight I'll be back on that Central Park Loop. I'll just take things a little slower.
Thanks for reading this ridiculously long entry.
More later.
DAY 99
TODAY'S MILEAGE: 18.2
TOTAL MILEAGE: 236.23
PS - I finished in 2:58:57. What, you think I'm gonna go way too fast and screw up my legs and not give my time? (Sadly, yes, that is breakneck speed for me).
See, way back in the beginning of this whole endeavor I titled my very second post "Here Comes The Pain" because I was really sore after our first day of running.
Then just last week I titled a post "Here Comes The Rain Again" after the Eurythmics song, because it seems like it's been raining a lot lately while I've been out running.
So now today, I title the post for Saturday's run "Here Comes The Pain Again" because I'm really sore and sorta funny.
So yeah, Saturday was our "Trails" day. The Team members all carpooled (is that one word) out to Jersey to run on these crazy nature trails out near Rutgers. I met up with Jen and Drew around 6:45 Saturday morning and we took a cab up to Charlotte's place where we mooched a ride off of her because she has a car and stuff. On the ride we discussed bad tattoos with Charlotte winning the prize for best "Worst Tattoo Story." The Grinch, smoking a joint. You could try to top that, but you would fail. Fortunately for everyone, this is not a tattoo that she has on her person, but rather one that she saw.
We got to the meeting spot and started stretching as Ramon explained the course. And it go a little sump like dis: 4 miles out (approx.) there would be a water station. Then another one at the 6 mile mark and the third and final station at the 7.5 mile mark. A mile and a half past that we'd find a fence where we would turn around and come back. 9 miles out, 9 back. Quick math tells us what? 18 miles total. The folks running the Honolulu marathon would continue on for another mile after that, but I didn't pay too much attention to their instructions because they didn't really effect me personally.
Then we started running.
We ran for a long...long time.
I made the mistake of starting near the front of the pack and pacing myself with some of the more experienced runners. We were going at a 9:30 or 10 minute mile, so not breaking any land speed records, but a good clip for the distance we were covering. The first few miles felt pretty rugged and my legs were heavy. I wasn't finding the groove and was pretty much terrified of the distance. Was finally able to lose myself in thoughts other than "take another step, good, now again, with the left foot" at about the 3 mile mark and finally felt like I might be able to cover the miles. Hit the first water station as Ramon was pulling into the parking lot next to it and he hollared something in our general direction, but I have no idea what it was. It felt good to know I had covered 4 miles in less than 40 minutes, but the thought of another 14 was less comforting. A few minutes later I got my goo on and plowed ahead.
Between here and the turnaround point not much happened. I ran. I felt OK. My drawers kept hitching up on me and I had the not too pleasant realization that I probably could have used a little more vaseline between my legs - yeah, I'm taking you there with me today kids. Of course, this realization is particularly unsettling knowing you've got about 11 miles to go on the run. And having taken a shower after rubbing my legs raw once before, I knew exactly what I was looking forward to. And yet I kept running. I know Lance Armstrong beat testicular cancer and all that, but seriously, I think I just redefined the heart of a champion.
About a mile or two before the turnaround there was a somewhat severe decline in the trail and then just as quickly an incline. There was water on both sides of the trail (it was a very pretty run) and there were all these dam type things along the way to even the levels out...or something. Anyway, I realized on the down slope that I had a bit of a problem developing in my legs. My thighs were OK as long as I was moving forward on a flat surface, but when I went downhill I realized that they had sort of tightened up on me. I figured I was pushing myself a little too hard, but at the same time figured that the damage had been done and I might as well keep up the pace.
Yeah, I'm real stupid.
So I got out to the 9 mile marker and the crew I was running with continued on as they were doing 20. I goo'd up again and started back. About 5 minutes into the 2nd half of the run I passed a group who asked me how far they were from the marker. I told them 2 or 3 minutes because I can't count. I then passed Drew and we did that thing where we made fists and bumped our knuckles together. While running. Badasses. Big time.
Here's where I get a little crazy. On the way out, about a mile from the turnaround, a girl had passed me on her way back. I have noticed her over the past few weeks and she is a heck of a runner. So I didn't feel so bad knowing she was whipping my ass time wise. It's not about speed, after all, it's about covering the miles. But, I do get competitive. Besides her, I was the first person coming back from the 18 mile marker. I wasn't concerning myself with "winning" or anything like that, I just wanted to maintain my pace, and seeing the other people 5 and 10 and 15 minutes behind me on my way back, I wanted to make sure that I didn't get passed by too many coming back as it would indicate a real slow down on my part.
Make sense? Probably not, but it is what it is.
I guess it was the 12 mile marker or so when I realized I was in some serious trouble. First of all, for all the talk about how running on the trails would be easier on our legs and joints, I was hurting in a big way from the surface. The tops of my feet were KILLING me because I was using all sorts of muscles to balance, correct myself and overcompensate for pebbles and roots I was stepping on. Second, my ankles were feeling it too...although that could have been the distance, I don't know. Finally, my knees, which have been my nemesys since this started were starting to sing as well. This pain, together with the soreness in my thighs, was telling me that finishing this run was going to be a big problem. Especially with 6 miles left.
At the final water station I stopped to hydrate and suck down one final goo. I talked to Christine (another coach) about how I screwed up my pace and she warned me to be careful of that on race day as I will definitely want to do the second half of the run faster than the first. I don't know where I'm gonna get that discipline, but I gotta find it somewhere soon. At this point another runner showed up at the water station. One of the 20 milers. Great. I was getting smoked by a guy running 2 more miles than I was. Talk about demoralizing. Christine wished me a good 4 miles and I was off.
And that's when it all slammed into me at full force. My groin had tightened up while I was chatting and that was sort of the final straw. I did what I could to create the illusion of running, but mostly I was just moving forward. 20 Mile Guy blew past me a minute later and I watched him get smaller and smaller on the trail ahead of me. I stopped and walked across a rock walkway on the path that stretched about a quarter of a mile or so then did my best to finish running. That last 4 miles were a bear and I would have gladly run the first 14 again instead of them. I had heard that you hit a wall at 16 miles, and while I'm sure that was a huge part of it, the soreness in my groin and the pain in my joints were telling me that I had gone about this run all wrong. I was so relieved to see the finish, but I was also scared to stop moving as I figured I would tighten up even more.
I got back to the parking lot and stretched the best I could. The coaches and mentors had brought food for us (a feast of delicious carbs) and I rocked a bagel and about a liter of gatorade. I waited and talked to some other folks about the run and heard some injury horror stories. I actually loosened up a bit after stretching and was feeling OK...sore, but OK. Jen, Drew and Charlotte all finished together and I found out Drew wrecked his IT band pretty good, so I was feeling even better about my condition. That's a tough injury and I could tell he was hurting. But he sucked it up and finished (20 miles actually!) and I'm sure he'll be OK. Jen and Char were great too and in tremendous spirits.
The ride home was smelly, but for the most part everyone was in good spirits despite Drew's injury and I think more than anything we were all sorta proud of ourselves for finishing the run. It's amazing to think that 3 months ago we had a hard time with 5 miles and now Jen is saying things like "at the end of it I knew I could have gone another 2 miles." That's amazing. Yeah, I screwed up my pace and have a lot or work to do before Phoenix, but all in all, I'm happy with Saturday. We all had our own challenges and we came through relatively strong. And that's something.
When they dropped me off in Manhattan I got out of the car and realized how shitty the next two days were going to be as far as getting around was concerned. I wasn't wrong. It's Monday around noon as I write this and my knees are still a little achey and my thighs are still slightly tight. But I can take stairs again and tonight I'll be back on that Central Park Loop. I'll just take things a little slower.
Thanks for reading this ridiculously long entry.
More later.
DAY 99
TODAY'S MILEAGE: 18.2
TOTAL MILEAGE: 236.23
PS - I finished in 2:58:57. What, you think I'm gonna go way too fast and screw up my legs and not give my time? (Sadly, yes, that is breakneck speed for me).
posted by Demps at 8:40 AM
1 Comments:
ooooooouch!!!
i so admire your heart you crazy-man! go take an ice bath, and slow the hell down!!
:) it was a freaking great run wasn't it!
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