Monday, April 29, 2013


This past Friday, after not being able to run more than a half mile without extreme pain on Tuesday, I finally saw a doctor.  I went into the room expecting to walk out in a boot but I still wanted to put up a strong front.

I said, "My ankle hurts and has for about three months. I am running a marathon next Sunday. What can we do?"

The PA took notes, asked questions, a few of which had to do with my sanity for running as long as I did on a painful ankle.  Then the doctor came in and put it on the table.

It is official: I have been running for the past three months on a sprained ankle. To be more specific it is a Grade 2 Anterior tabofibular ligament sprain.

Well what does that mean?  For a normal person that would mean I would stop running and get physical therepy for a few weeks and continue to mend my weak ligament over the course of a month or so.

But for me, it means I am going to PT for five straight days, then getting on a flight to Tacoma to run my marathon.

But like I said, I got a plan. #OperationGLOOMA is in full effect and making great progress on the South Western front, otherwise known as my left ankle. #OperationGLOOMA or "Get Liquid Out Of My Ankle" is a complex project with many players, exercises, ultra-sound, ibuprofen, ice packs, and swimming pools.  Getting the liquid out will enable the fibers of the ligament to reattach and provide additional stability for my race. So you better believe I am all in on this week long campaign to win the war.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Today was the first time I cried

Saturday is our club's long run and today was no different, except it was.  Today we welcome back our friends who are now victims of terror and runners of one the of best road races in the world.  Some of the people were clearly doing better than others but none of us, those who ran Boston and those of us who were worried about them here, were ok. We were all shaken.

Before the run I gave a short interview to KTVU, one that I have given to a number of outlets over the past week.  In short we, the San Francisco Road Runners Club stands with all of Boston. We are proud of our runners and we will support our runners who qualify or raise money to run next year.  But the thing that I say with all honesty to every interviewer is that these little deranged bastards will not stop me from running. They will not keep our tight community away from the race or any American away from living our lives.

Today David Ortiz nailed it in his speech after the National Anthem and Julius Genachowski, Chairman of the FCC, agreed with his heart felt sentiment. Neil Diamond came on his own dime to sing Sweet Caroline during the Red Sox game.  And the San Francisco Road Runners ran through San Francisco. These little weak people will not stop us from living as free Americans. 

But what made this so real to me was the pain I saw in my friends' eyes today.  The tears they shed when talking about it or the look they gave you when asking how they were doing today.  

We talk a lot about being stronger than this attack. And we are stronger than this attack.  But that doesn't get rid of the pain and suffering.  It doesn't eliminate the feeling of vulnerability.  It doesn't change the images. It doesn't save the lives of those lost nor does it restore the lives forever altered.  

Now we must use this strength that we have seen in the faces of Boston's finest and ordinary citizens to move forward together.  But after a week like this, it was a huge relief to see my friends alive and as well as they can be. It became even more real today. No more TV images. These are my people and this was scary. But we are together, and we are strong. We won't forget but we will move on. Maybe not today, or tomorrow. But we will. We will keep running, together.

Monday, April 15, 2013

We all ran Boston today

Today was horrible.

Today was supposed to be a day about the power of humanity because unlike at any other event, no one's rooting against anyone. Yes this is one of the worst things that could have happened.

But it won't stop me. It won't stop my friends. It won't stop Americans.

The Boston Marathon will go on. There will be runners, there will be winners, and there will be fans who watch on the sidelines and support. 

May God and everything that is good help those hurt and lost today.  But know this, you sons-of-bitches, who ever you are, we aren't going to stop doing what we do.  We will run again. We will do so with a renewed passion for life and liberty.

Today was horrible.  But there is tomorrow and the next day after.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

And the dreams begin

It looks like this...but glows in the dark.
I am late to the start.  It is usually due to some back up of a flying buffalo or something that only makes perfect sense deep in the REM cycle.

I get to the start, futz with my bib -- there is always something wrong with the bib -- and I get started.

There are strange things going on around me.

I run at Olympic Trial pace which is faster than I can run a two mile time trial for the first 16 miles and I feel great...and then I wake up.

I don't get to find out if I run for the US Team in Rio. I also don't get my victory ride on the flying buffalo.

Clearly it is getting close to marathon time.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

50ish miles a week and a full time job


I love working hard and it is great to have a challenging job.  But that leaves very little time for blogging.

By ways of catching up know these things: I am still running and my ankle still hurts.

But that isn't the point of today's post. The point is how to train for a marathon properly and be stupid busy.

The short story is you sleep less.  The long story is, longer.
#SeenOnMyRun - Darkness