Taking a Break

We all have our routines.

Our get ready for work routine.

A wind down for bed routine.

And likely, a workout routine.

Over the years, my workout routine has changed. From early evening tennis practice in high school to late evening runs in college, then on to trips to Lifetime Fitness in Orland for lifting, yoga, spin and/or a date with the elliptical. 

When I moved to the city, I opted to live close to the lake. The lakefront path would become my gym that year. In the years that followed, thousands of miles have been run on that path in the early morning hours. 

Running along the lakefront has become synonymous with my city identity. Yet lately, I've been spending a lot less time on the path, and following mid-June's PT assessment, no time on it at all. 

At first, taking a break was something I had elected to do. I wanted to do challenge myself with a new workout routine (and to be honest, I wasn't the least bit interested in outdoor runs this past winter). But more recently, I had plans to get back into my good, old summer routine on the lakefront. I was finally getting the bug to run again. 

But with this hip flare up, I'm holding off on training, at least temporarily. 

Electively taking a break is different than an injury breaks. No one requests an injury break. But as June turns in to July I'm trying to stay optimistic about what the future holds and what the next steps are. In the meantime, it's awfully strange to be sleeping in past 5am on Saturday mornings.

Admitting Injury

For the last few weeks, I've been trying to deny the obvious... I'm injured.

As a distance runner, injuries can happen often. Over time, you become an "expert" at identifying and successfully treating the most common of injuries - start with the RICE method, add in some Advil and maybe a few slower runs on a cushy track surface. 

Just when you think you're at the top of your game, an injury can find a way to to introduce itself into your body. Your expert assessment skills decide that it's no big thing. Keep training and things will work their way out. 

Four weeks ago, that was my state of mind. As time has gone on, my prognosis has become worse instead of better, limiting the quality and time I could spend running. 

So late last week I did what just about any endurance athlete has done at some point in their lives...I went to see a physical therapist. 

Physical therapy is a humbling experience. You're broken, but you're not sure how. During the first appointment, the PT is able to tell you what's failing you - a question you've been contemplating for awhile. In time and with your cooperation, they will massage, heat, cool and exercise you back to normal operation.

In an hour's time, the PT was able to make an assessment and had me work through my first series of exercises. Conclusion? Well, to start with, I have a weak right hip. This always puzzles me - aren't hips a big bone that's strong? Regardless, there's a reason why I'm in marketing and not the medical field.

I have a short series of exercises to do at home now. None of them are difficult looking on paper. Yet somehow, it's easier for me to balance on my forearms than to perform "clamshells" on my right side.

Looks like I have a lot of progress to make. I just wonder what kind of timeline I'm on. 

November: What a Difference a Month Makes

In an evening, October changed to November. Along with it went my desire to run.

How can someone spend so much time running and then shut it down in a matter weeks? 

When I had this feeling last fall, I decided it was a sign (and time) for a break.

I read up on taking a break from running. Runner's World and other sources recommended it in varying lengths. It seemed like the thing to do, well, or at least try.

Before I could even experiment with a lot less running, I needed to find an activity that could fill my workouts (because in the back of my mind, I was on the path of a Marathon to Couch Program)

So I rode my bike on the bike trainer and got back into a routine with yoga. Some people would say the cross training is enough to do for a period of time. Months even.

But I couldn't let it go completely. I kept with a weekend long run and tried to do a mid-week run to keep with some type of schedule.

This year and very quickly after Marine Corps, the weather changed to winter in Chicago. A few years ago I would have told you the cold weather didn't stop me from getting outside. But I'm singing a different tune this year. I've been getting over to The Lab about twice a week this month. A nice change of pace from running and truthfully some of most challenging workouts I've done in some time.

Last Wednesday was November 27th. A month since the Marine Corps Marathon. Since the marathon, I've run three times. Each effort was a poor existence of a run. Runs in which I wanted them to be over soon after the start. I could blame it on a lot of things, but I think an off season training plan of little running is in order. At least in the short term.

Two weekends ago I headed downtown for a yoga arm balance and inversion seminar. As if I can't find enough injury in running, I'm now finding fascination in poses that cause bruising and falling. I saw a few runners as I drove out to the studio. Normally, I would see a person running and think how I'd like to be running, especially if I hadn't yet that day. But on that day, I was happy to not be running. I really didn't have any desire to. I was more interested in checking out this yoga seminar for the afternoon.

So I'll take that as a sign. We'll see what happens with this not running (or not running very much) thing. It could be good. Maybe the not running thing will allow me to grow in yoga. 

[Sorta] Being Bob [Vila]

Somewhere in between tapering for Chicago and leaving for Marine Corps, an unfortunate situation appeared in my kitchen. The light had stopped working.

I heard a crackling noise when I flipped the switch and had a sense as to what it was. Dave volunteered to fix it.

As weeks went by, not having a light in the kitchen was driving me crazy. The more time that passed, the more I read up on how a bad switch being an electrical hazard. And, well, that's never good.

I watched a few youtube videos and decided I was going to fix it. 

The first weekend of November was a strange one for me. I had no long run scheduled. I woke up early and ran some errands. Errands that eventually brought me to Home Depot.

I love Home Depot. The smell of freshly cut lumber is by far my favorite smell. It reminds me of my childhood and my Dad's never-ending home improvement projects. He can destroy and then rebuild anything (though sometimes to my Mom's dismay).

We watched a good amount of This Old House with Bob Vila back then. Bob reminded me of my Dad - the flannel and jeans, tool belt, boots, mustache/beard combo. Bob worked on projects in New England where people had funny accents. A big change from the job sites in the Chicagoland area I imagine.

By the time I left for college, I'd helped with a variety of projects - painted few rooms, assisted with the construction of a gazebo, sealed a deck and laid tile in a bathroom. So I was no stranger to a Handy Andy or Builder's Square back in the day.  

But on this Saturday morning, I was at Home Depot alone. It's strange to go into a home improvement store without my Dad. He has the place memorized and knows exactly what to get. I on the other hand, wander the aisles looking for the short list I've created based on a few trusty youtube videos. Though I had hoped I'd get everything I needed in this trip, the rule of Home Depot is that you'll make two to three times the number of trips you'd originally thought to complete a project. 

I pick up a switch, electrical tape and wire tester, then head to the cashier. As I check out, I wonder - Have I bought the right switch? Will I end up electrocuting myself? How bad will it hurt? I pay the $9 bill and leave the store.

I head home and decide to tackle it right away. I re-watch the youtube video on my ipad and follow the steps. I take photos along the way. This way, if I screw something up and have to call in reinforcements, at least he'll know what I did. 

In less than ten minutes, I had replaced the switch and had a working kitchen light again.

Electricity is amazing.

The old switch pulled out from the wall.

The new switch before reattaching to the wall.

The Big Question

The question of the summer and fall was, could a person of moderate fitness run two marathons in 14 days?

The answer? A surprising yes. 

I wasn't sure, back in the spring, if I would be able to pull it off. So much can happen in training, and they're all things that have happened before - injury, head cold, heat.

The million dollar question was, could a person train for one marathon but, in essence, then run a second, "bonus" marathon? 

Why yes, you can. 

Following the finish at Chicago, I stepped onto unfamiliar ground. Instead of the finish line marking the end of my training, it was instead a highlight in the journey. 

Post Chicago was much like any marathon I've run. I was sore and stiff. After a number of days, I went to yoga to stretch out. All in all I felt good, but like I was carrying lead in my shoes. That Saturday, I went on a 6 mile run. Again, I felt a lot like I knew post marathon week to be. 

Yet I had another marathon on the horizon. 

I was semi-following Hal Higdon's plan of "training in between marathons" but more that that, I was practicing the art of not freaking out. What will be will be. 

Until Jen and I started to set our clothes out the night before, it didn't seem real anyway. I'd never run a marathon outside of Chicago. I was on vacation as far as I knew. 

As morning came, reality came quickly as we grabbed our gear and shuffled to the metro. This was it. Race day two. 

A year ago, this race was just an idea. One that I thought fitting I run. Now I had four friends joining in the experience. 

I had thoughts of uncertainty along with some nervousness, but overall I knew one thing - I would finish. Hopefully, I would finish strong. I would do this because it's what needed to be done. Today wasn't about what I did two weeks ago, it was about the cause today. I would be reminded of that with each mile. 

And so, the four of us stood on an unassuming highway in DC. We heard a perfect rendition do the Star-Spangled Banner as paratroopers jumped out of an airplane with flags strapped to them. We were about to start on one of the most patriotic journeys do our lives. And in that moment, I knew I was ready.

Photo courtesy of Jeff Reardon

Race Day Plus One

Columbus Day has taken on a new meaning to me over the last few years. One in which I'm grateful to have the day off.

The Columbus Day holiday is now known as marathon plus one. 

My routine on this day is unlike any other:

I sleep in late (relative to the 5 or 6 a.m. that's been a standard most of the summer). I realize even before I'm fully conscious that I'm sore and stiff. Yep, I know what day it is. 

I hobble out of bed and get dressed. I feel like I'm elderly. I lay my outfit on the bed, then sit down to put my socks on. I can stand. I can sit. But everything in between is hard.

 I have a long massage scheduled for this morning. I'm looking forward to it, however, there are obstacles between my kitchen and my massage therapist's house.

First, there's a flight of stairs down to street level. My building has no elevator. The stairs register as a level of difficulty that's not normal. I make a plan as to how I'll get down them. The easiest way is to turn around and walk down backwards, but I'm too proud to do that. Instead, I do a sideways shuffle down the stairs, holding into the handrail for the first time this year. 

There's one more step out the building, then I'm in the alley. I now have to walk just two blocks to my therapists house. I start walking slowly, using proper crosswalks and making sure the walking man isn't flashing. Where normally I like to challenge the crosswalk countdown and walk or run across, today I have one speed. And it's slow. 

My body feels marginally better following the massage. I know today is the hardest and slowest day. I'm thankful today that my world is so small.

Halfway between my house and the massage therapist is Starbuck's.  Usually I treat myself to any crazy Starbuck's concoction that sounds good. I burned thousands of calories yesterday. I deserve it. But today I walk in to Starbucks and order something light on the caffeine and sugar. Though I was lucky enough to not have my neck issue fair up in the race, it's still there. The MT thinks I need to curb back my intake of both of these delicious controlled substances, so I'm trying to play along. I buy the paper today. All marathon finisher's names and times are posted in a special section. 

I sit outside and enjoy my drink and read up on the elite race yesterday. My day is wide open now. No training run to do today. 

My best friend came to visit later on in the day with her son. We went out to lunch and spent the rest of the day catching up on life.

How different today is from yesterday. It's nice and I enjoy it, but I know it can't be every day. 

Especially not this year. This year, I'm running another race 13 days from now. 

In Between Races

This year, I'm mixing things up.

I waiver between thinking my change of pace is completely awesome or completely and utterly dumb.

I've registered for two marathons...14 days apart.

The Chicago Marathon is this Sunday, October 13th. I'm proud to say this is my hometown marathon. 

When I first started training for a marathon, my goal was to run Chicago once. I was inspired to run Chicago after watching my uncle run the race while I was in high school. Talk about a memory that has lasted nearly a lifetime.

I've thought about not running Chicago. I could, per say, run a marathon somewhere else. Maybe another big city marathon. But the thing that always brings me back is what a great, I mean fantastic, race Chicago is. How can I not run Chicago when it's so damn convenient? 

It would be like me telling you I don't like the new Trader Joe's location in Evanston. It has everything every other TJ's has but its in my backyard. No more traveling to Lakeview or Glenview for my Orange Chicken, Mango Salsa, Cookie Butter and everything else uniquely Trader Joe's that I now cannot live without. Location is key. Being in my car less makes me happy. Big win for TJ's Evanston (even if your parking lot is sort of a nightmare).

No really, Chicago truly is an outstanding race.  One in which I am lucky enough to sleep in my own bed the night before, jump on the same train I take often to work and can navigate downtown better than any other city. Huge pluses, er stars. 

So when Chicago's registration opened in February, I was one of the lucky few who got in without registration issues. Chicago Marathon #6 was confirmed. 

A number of weeks later, registration for the Marine Corps Marathon opened. This was the race I had my eyes on this year. Though the registration process proved challenging, I had a registration confirmation before the race sold out. 

And then, back in March, suddenly I had two marathons two weeks apart. 

So, to the question everyone is asking me - How are you training in between?

Well, that's a great question. One in which I've done maybe a half hour of research on so far. My first source was Hal Higdon. Hal's the man. His training programs have gotten me through five marathons and probably two dozen halves, so if he says he has a plan for two marathons two weeks part, I'm just going to go with it. One day, after my thirty minutes of research concluded, I wrote down the run schedule on a napkin and pinned it to my cork board in my office. Very official. 

I've talked with a few friends who've done multiple marathons in a condensed period, including my friend George, a man who knocks out two marathons in two states in a weekend on a regular basis. The wisdom passed along to me so far has been to pick one race as my goal race.  The other is just for fun. What if goal race and fun effort are the same? I'm trying to wrap my head around that. 

My plan thus far goes something like this. Run Chicago. Don't die. Don't get sick. Don't get injured. Run a smart race (mainly this means listen to your body - my body doesn't like heat). Drink beer after crossing finish line and start honing in on best recovery practices for 13 days. Go for a long massage the next day. Maybe another before boarding the plane to DC. Drink lots of fluids. Stretch. Try to jog it out like Hal instructed. Attend a moderate yoga class (tone down the arm balances or inversions at The Lab if needed). Eat a lot and anything I want, cause, I just bought myself two more weeks of it. 

The end. 

Let's see how this works (or doesn't). 

The Morning After [the 20 miler]

Sunday was CARA's Ready to Run 20 miler.

It was around the 10th or so time I've done a 20 mile training run over the last six years.

The run went well overall. The weather was reasonably cool with periods of cloud cover. Jeff and I maintained pace with our group through 15, then slightly behind them through the finish. All and all, it's a 20 miler I'll call a success. If it was a race, we might say I PR'd the 20 miler.

For the most part, I feel like someone should feel after a 20 - sore and stiff but with a sense of accomplishment. 

Going down stairs was a slower process than normal on Monday morning, but not as bad as years past. 

I took notice of curbs as I navigated public transit that first morning, but I did not feel they were getting the better of me with their uneven ways. 

I stopped at an Argo Tea in the loop before a meeting Monday morning. I placed my order and then looked over a wide selection of loose leaf tea while others picked up their orders. I looked out the window for a moment, then thought it would be nice to sit.

That's when I saw this:

Just when I'd thought I was managing pretty well the morning after the 20 miler, reality slaps me in the face with an available, yet not attainable chair hovering a foot off the ground.

Though I imagine they wouldn't be so easy to get in and out of on a regular day, either.

Most Read Post Winner: Blisters Under Toenails

Last September, I wrote a rather graphic depiction of blisters forming under my toenails post 2011 Chicago Marathon.

You can read it here.

It's by far the grossest post I've ever written (out of 200).

Yet, in the last 9 months, over 500 people have navigated their way to read it.

So, thanks... I think?

Are gruesome posts the way to go? I hope not.

Though it seems there's many out there goggling their way to find relief.

May blisters be the worst of our troubles as summer begins.

[No So] Perfect 10

Last year was the Chicago Perfect 10's first year.

It was held on the same weekend this year.

Brian and I started on Saturday being just a month out from running the marathon. Just like last year.

Yet this year, for some reason, it didn't start out like last year's race.

Very early on in this race I had a feeling we wouldn't be pulling the 9:40 average we had last year.

Talk about starting the race off on the wrong foot.

I think Brian could have left me in the dust many miles before the finish. But he didn't, because, well, that's not Brian's style usually.

As we ran, we discussed why today's effort (though it wasn't exactly over yet, was it?) wasn't going to compare to last year.

The number one reason being that neither of our drank three the night before. We did what? What were we thinking? We spent all of last winter and spring testing this groundbreaking hypothesis and conducting hours of self analysis. Yet we throw it out the window and have just one drink the night before the Perfect 10? Honestly, what were thinking?

And for some reason that paragraph reads as a script for a political ad. Farewell, election season, farewell. 

I've had some tightness and strain in my right calf ever since the 20 miler in September. I nursed it along and ran through a dull pain during the marathon. I said that afterwards I would do what I always read about - give my body a break from running. That theory lasted three days. I somehow manage to forget that it's been bothering me until I warm up around a mile and some change, then wham, it's throbbing.

But for some reason, during the Perfect 10, I didn't have any pain. I was hopeful that I could chalk up this slow and average run turning a corner on recovery. That was, until today when I ran and had another flare up.

PT, looks like you're getting a call. Soon.

Running in Circles

I don't like running in circles.

Or the sight of tracks.

Every time I see a track, it reminds me of high school. I'm taken back to tennis practice. We did a lot of running. We ran to warm up. We ran drills. Anytime you lost in a practice game, you ran. Anytime you were goofing around, you ran. Each time you had to run, you'd set down your racquet, run through the parking lot, and onto the track. Each time this happened, you knew you were in for a least a half mile.

In our sophomore year, our school built a field house and we had a winter Track team. Since we had spent a lot of time running during summer and fall, my friends and I thought that it made sense to check out what track had to offer.

Which was, of course, even more running. Warm ups, speed work outs, strength conditioning, running over hurdles, running in your approach over the high jump bar. Lots and lots of running.

I drive by my high school and look at the area where the tennis courts were, the parking lot, the field house and the track and I cringe.

So needless to say, I don't spend lots of time doing track work outs.

However, you have those days where it makes the most sense.

Maybe you're pressed for time and need to do a quick, efficient work out.

Maybe your friend Kim A. has convinced you to do a mock Bootcamp class.

Or maybe you're fending off an injury and think the cushy track a few blocks from your place would be a good alternative to hitting the concrete jungle.

On Wednesday, a new pair of shoes arrived at my place. They are the pair of shoes I'll run the marathon in. As a runner, it's awfully hard to resist a new pair of shoes.

Since I was leery about my the inflamed soleus, I took the track approach. An easy jog.

The track by my house is smaller than a quarter mile. I'm grateful to have one so close when I need it, but running around it more than four times for a mile is complete torture. It seems to take forever to get to a mile. I'm already getting bored. I stop a few times along the way to stretch out. I try to focus on my playlist or the college kids playing Frisbee. I finally hit three miles and head home.

Hopefully tomorrow I can go back on the road.

Soldier Field 10

Dear Soldier Field 10,

We need to have a talk.

As you know, we have a sorted history.

In 2007, I'd signed up and trained with your official training program. I made it to 8 of 12 weeks before coming down with my first running injury. I was not able to run that year. It was the only time I missed a race.

The next two years, I was out of town Memorial Day weekend.

In 2010, after working through an injury all winter, I decided, due to our history of course, that you couldn't be my comeback race.

Tricia and I volunteered with Salute and handed out finisher's medals. Though I wasn't running, you still got the upper hand when you possessed my brand new cell phone to land in to a toilet at the stadium.

Now we're nearing the end of 2011. Nearly five years.

So I made a decision. I signed up again. This time, I will run you.

And so will some of my friends. The stars have aligned.

And there's nothing you can do about it.

Marathon Recovery

Last year I wrote about recovering physically from a marathon. What I didn't touch on is mental recovery.

At some point during a marathon, well, at least most the runners I know, you find yourself questioning your sanity. I signed up for this? I thought this would be fun? I trained five months for this? This hurts!

If the mental game hadn't started during the taper, it surely appears around mile 22. That voice gets louder and clearer, until you stop running. But that's the lure of the marathon. You've trained your body to physically complete the task at hand. The mental side is the tougher part.

After crossing the finish line, I think most of us experience a moment of euphoria. We've accomplished a great task that not many have. As the euphoria fades, your conscience returns. He's saying something like 'Never. Again.'

A few hours after the first marathon, I announced I wanted to do another.

This year, it's taking a bit longer to come to that conclusion. In the two weeks following the race, a head cold was getting the best of me. The runs up until Hot Chocolate on November 3rd were pathetic attempts. I wondered if I should hang up running for awhile. Even at the start line of Hot Chocolate, I wasn't completely sold on doing the race. I had signed up just days before. I knew I needed to run another race to get me out of my slump. The post-marathon slump.

Since Hot Chocolate, I've had some good runs which is motivating me to run through winter. Even still, 38 days after the race, I have not decided if another marathon is in the cards. My brother commented that he wants to run Chicago next year. If he signs up February 1st, I know I'll be right behind him.

But for the time being, the brother scenario is the one exception. I'm just not ready to talk about it. Yet.

My friend Carrie announced her retirement shortly after completing the Berlin Marathon this year. Though I have since heard that she would consider coming out of retirement for the right race.

And the cycle continues.

Massage & Physical Therapy

Crossing the finish line of the twenty miler was good and bad.

I was pleased with being able to stick with the 10:30 pace throughout the run.

My achilles, on the other hand, was hurting.

Sh-t! How do I manage to do this to myself each year?

I headed over to the NovaCare tent where a PT took a good look it. There was a long line of people, all with similar aches from training.  She said she was happy to hear I'd been experiencing it for only a week and thought some deep tissue massages and PT would put me in good shape for race day. I appreciated her positive attitude as I was trying to stay positive myself.

Flashbacks of last year's doctor's visit just a few weeks before race day appeared in my mind as I called the doctor on Monday. If I went to the doctor's office, I was certain to hear, one way or the other, that I should give up running. Or I may have to visit an orthopedic, have an MRI, maybe an X-Ray, all before going to PT. So I took a different approach when calling the doctors office. Instead of calling and saying I had a running-related injury and wanted to see the doctor, I just asked if I could go straight to PT. The nurse wasn't sure if this was possible, but said she would check.

Ok, that went better than I thought. Now on to the next thing that will help straighten out the achilles - massage.

Who doesn't love a massage? I found a massage therapist (a former distance runner no less) who lives two blocks away and tends to run long on his sessions. Really? Yeah, really awesome.

We worked out a game plan for working on the achilles over the next week. After I left the massage therapist's house on Monday night, I already felt better.

Wednesday came and I still hadn't heard back from the doctor's office. I call the doctor's office in the morning and the answering service tells me they are not in the office yet. I call later on and I told they are at lunch...twice. Then I call again in the evening to find out they close early that day. I then call their suburban location and get a hold of another nurse who was able to tell me the doctor approved my request for PT and she'll send it over.

Thursday morning I have the script from the doctor and call PT. Their schedule is booked for the rest of the week, so I'll have to come in Tuesday. Now I start to worry. I'm basically losing a week here. I won't be doing a 12 mile long run in this condition. Then I remind myself what Kim A. has told me all too many times - as long as you have a 20 miler under your belt, the runs during the taper don't matter.

Thursday night I go back to the massage therapist where he's able to loosen up my calf muscle and I continue to stretch it out. I do a two mile light run that evening and it tender, but not painful.

Saturday I go out on a run on my own. I'm fearful I can't or shouldn't push a 12 mile run on a bumb wheel, so I go out on my own to see what I can do. I end up run/walking about six miles. I am frustrated, but I try not to let those thoughts linger. It's still bothering me, but it's bothering me less. That's good.

Tuesday I get in to the PT and she works her magic. Thursday I return. More magic.

The following Saturday I go out to run a great 8 miler, my last long run before the marathon.

I continue to stretch and go to PT, but I feel much better.

I'm good to go.

Hello, Achilles

Yay! I crossed the finish line of fort2base.

I ran a fast race. I was happy.

My left Achilles tendon on the other hand, was pretty pissed off. I had determined it was my achilles by doing what any one does when they have something wrong medically - ask the internet. The trick with asking the internet is to not ask just one source. One source may tell you not to run (and truthfully, who can follow that advice?). Too many sources will lead you to believe your injury could cause death. Two or three sources may be just right.

I'm pretty sure it happened somewhere up the climb of that large hill that I refused to walk up. Maybe the other runners had it right.

Injuries, to a certain extent, are second nature in distance running. It's not a question of 'if' but 'when.'

Post fort2base I decided to take a few days off, eat some pizza and drink some beers. Oh, and visit the foam roller. Who thought I could do a 9:35 for 11.5 miles anyway?

Around lunch time on Tuesday I was getting restless. My lower left leg was tight and my achilles was puffy. From what I had read, you can run with an achilles injury, just as long as it's not severe.  How was I going to find out if it was severe? Go out on a run. So I did just that. Sort of.

I ran for about a mile and a half, then walked. Then it got tighter. I stretched it out and tried running again. But I couldn't loosen it up. After some short, slow runs and more walking, I called it a day.

For the next few days, I would RICE (rest, ice, compress, elevate) to get me to Sunday, CARA's Ready to Run 20 Miler.

Post Race Routines and Recovery [Afternoon of 10.10.10]

Yay! I crossed the finish line.

Now starts the road to recovery as I walk through the chute and grab a banana, bagel, mylar blanket, and most importantly, beer.

A transformation happens as you walk through the few blocks of the chute - You go from being in motion to completely stiff as a board. Walking becomes, quite quickly, a difficult thing to do. Your feet are swollen, so priority #1 is to take of the running shoes you've been in since 5am and get in to a more roomy shoe or sandal. Before you make this transition however, you're going to need to sit, and that's where the problem lies.

My quads are shot. I can stand and I can sit in a chair, but can't do anything in between.

Remember the blog entry 'Curbs and Stairs' from a few weeks ago, after the 20 miler? They are by far my worst enemy now.

My walk resembles more of a shuffle. My stride has been shortened by 3/4 it's normal length. Routine movement are now difficult.

To sum up, suddenly, I'm....old.

It's weird because I have a recent amazing accomplishment of physical and mental strength, yet now, I'm weak, tired and slow.

It's easier to list the body parts that don't hurt rather than the ones that do hurt.

So what to do?

Move, slowly, to the beer tent and follow it up with a lunch.

There's no way I'm taking the two flights of stairs down to get on the red line at Jackson, so my Dad offers to drive us home. Suddenly even a small SUV is luxurious for it's easy in and out access.

Once I'm home, it's time to sleep, at least for a little while. Later on that evening the 10:30's got together to celebrate the day. After all, it's a great reason to wear the finisher's medal around town. Dave gave Kim and I old lady aliases as we walked out to the car. We feel like we're 70 anyway, so it's fitting.

The top priority Monday is an afternoon massage. It is worth it's weight in gold. I'm feeling more flexible, but stairs and transitioning from sitting to standing is still hard. I'm hovering around 65 years old on Monday.

Here's a great video from Flora, the sponsor of the London Marathon, depicting the the day after a marathon:




Tuesday it's back to work. I can't take the chance of going through the crosswalk on a flashing red because I won't make it to the other side before traffic starts moving. I'm feeling better though, just moving slow. maybe about 60.

Wednesday's a big day. Stairs are no problem and my stride's coming back. I'm still a bit achy, but around 50.

Thursday I'm easily in my 30's again. Thursday's the recommended day for a two mile recovery run. I go out for a walk instead, but I feel pretty good. I've somehow started to forget how hard the race was and start thinking about how tomorrow at lunch, I'll get out there and run. Just an easy three or something...

Curbs & Stairs

Post 20-miler, routine movements become difficult.

Meet your new worst enemies:



and



Suddenly, negotiating these concrete and wood obstacles are a challenge as your entire lower body is, to some degree, sore.

You find yourself planning routes ahead of time that avoid them.

Is there a ramp or an elevator near by?

You know you're sore and entitled to taking it easy while you recover.

Other people see you walking funny and think you're either injured or just plain lazy.

You think about telling people 'I ran twenty miles yesterday.' as an excuse, but you worry that they'll entire think you're gloating or crazy. So instead, you say nothing, and let people assume what they want.

During your much-slower journey to where ever you're going, you see someone else mimicking your moves. You smile or nod at each other. You think, 'Yeah, that guy gets it. He just ran twenty too.'

Lake Michigan: Chicago's Best Ice Bath

Last week after the 16 miler, we hydrated and stretched. Then a small group of us headed to the Lake, removed our shoes and walked in. I was the first one in, and Tomas snapped a photo of me wading towards deeper waters.

Ice baths are a common practice for runners to recover faster from a tough run by reducing muscle pain and soreness. But who wants to fill a bathtub with ice and get in? Lake Michigan seems like a more practical solution, and couldn't be more conveniently located to our training site.

After a ten minute soak, I headed home for breakfast: Captain Crunch French Toast. Then a nap.

Date with a Foam Roller

This is a foam roller.



To the naked eye, it is a simple piece of equipment used for stretching. The foam roller is actually a torture device. Manufacturers of foam rollers will try to convince you with their advertising that foam rolling is fun.

See exhibit A:




No one, in the history of humans using the foam roller, has ever smiled when doing so.

Why you ask? Because the foam roller elicits pain. Pain that you were not aware you had until you rolled on it. Sometimes the pain makes you sweat from places you didn't know you could and say four letter words your Mom wouldn't be happy to hear you say.

After the 13 miler Saturday, I did not foam roll. I should have when I felt good. Instead, I've been foam rolling every night this week. My IT band is sore again.

I may be able to one-up the weather, but no one will ever one-up a foam roller.

Run. Rest. Eat. Repeat.

Welcome to week 7 of training.

The first few weeks are a cakewalk. Now training's stepping it up a notch on us.

Six miles was the long run the first week. In week seven, six miles is the mid-week run.

It's about this point in the training where I notice training's starting to take over my life. Having a few drinks on a Friday night's no big deal when you're doing 5 or 6 miles in the morning...12 miles is another story.

I start to pay closer attention to getting a a good night's sleep on Friday night. Even during the week for that matter - I've been getting up at 5:30am on Wednesdays to get the mid-week longer run over with in the morning!

If you're running and sleeping more, you mind as well eat more too, right? Now we get into the enjoyable part of training. Eating.

At this point, with a few exceptions, I'm eating all the 'healthy' food I want. I'm not worrying about carbs or calories. If I have a taste for it, I have it. Granted, I'm not stopping for ice cream or going through a drive thru all too often...yet.

There will come a point in training (about a month from now) where I'll really go all out and have things I'd normally never eat - like a Big Mac.