I got a pre-plan plan

I am back. My ankle is at a solid 85% nearly 95% of the time. The other five is either much better or not but at this point I see it as healing and on my way to the New York City Marathon.

I bet that guy to the right gave up.

But I am way out of shape. And not just running shape. But cardio, speed, strength, and perhaps most importantly, mental shape. I am way out of it.

So here it is, my perennial promise to keep this blog updated with my progress and engage in a number of Pintrest-like work outs where I look like an emaciated model doing lunges with script inspirational quotes floating above my poorly lit face, but perfectly sculpted ass.

But seriously I am promising to run about 20-25 miles a week based on pain, stretch and foam roll daily, one take a spin class and two core classes per week, and do two days of strength training until we reach the NYC Training Start Date (TSD). I will keep my goal weight of approximately 200lbs prior to the TSD and get below it for race day. I will blog. I will read. I will get in shape physically and mentally for the hard race that the New York City Marathon will be for me, both physically and mentally.

PLEASE KEEP ME HONEST.
STATS:
Weight: 213.2lbs
Week's Mileage: 8
Week's Classes: 50 min Spin
Week's Strength Training: Nothing Yet 

Without a plan

I don't have one of these right now.

For nearly the past three years, I have been constantly training for a marathon or half marathon.  I could have run a half marathon on one day's notice pretty much at anytime during this period. I had a plan I would stick to it no matter what, even to the determent of my own body (see: busted ankle posts).

But now, thanks to the parenthetically noted busted ankle, I am not following an official training plan.  And as I noted late last week, my not-on-paper plan of three runs and three spins was just a bit ambitious for my out-of-shape self. 

So I am without a plan. I feel lost and cold inside.

Prospective and Such

A couple of weeks ago I was invited to a morning tempo run with some of my chums who are much faster than I am. My goal marathon pace is their easy recovery pace.  But all the same they invited me out.  While I couldn't make it due to work (really) it was pretty exciting to be invited to the cool kids' table for my tempo run, even if it would have thrashed me for a couple of days.

Today as I knocked out a difficult 10 mile interval workout at 5:45am I heard foot steps as I picked up my pace for another two minute burst at 10K pace. As I got out of the way I looked to see who was passing me, and of course getting read to judge them for going too fast on a run.  However it was one of the very fast and gifted runners in our club. I speeded up to sub 5K pace and he slowed down.  We ran together for a minute and then he took off for the rest of his speed workout and I was grateful for the beep of the Garmin telling me it was time for three minutes of recovery.

When he looped the bottom of the park, he smiled and said "half way done." I flashed a grin and kept going.

This got me thinking: Why should I judge someone zipping past me? I know my pace and I know that I am doing my workout, so why should I get defensive on a Thursday morning in Golden Gate Park?

The answer is built into how and why runner train.

28 Days Later

In every sense of the word, February was a success.

I PR'ed the living day lights out of the Kaiser Half, I ran over 30 miles on trails, and Kara Gourcher is totally my new friend.

New chums - dcc and KG

Now I am facing March head on and I hope I'm able to have another epic training month as I get ready for my Marathon in Tacoma on May 5th.  But it doesn't look so good.

Sometimes the weekend lives up the hype

Over the past four months I have either traveled or recovered from traveling on my weekends here in San Francisco.

This past weekend did not follow that trend.

Needless to say, people like me don't often have weekends like the one I will recount in all its glory for your reading pleasure. It was rare for me to have such a weekend even in the best city in the world.  So I can now say, without any doubt, that after a weekend of epic proportions, San Francisco has a lot to do. Perhaps, it has more to do than New York. Or at least it is easier to do it here.

But now, for my epic weekend of epic-ness. It all started as the sun was breaking the horizon and other overly-dramatic descriptions of Saturday morning.

Sports can be great

I love this ad.

As the kid who stood on the sideline more often than I started and a fan of the team that always finds a way to loose, this ad speaks to me.  I love the story behind the game.  Those ESPN specials about the star getting there early to help the new guy are better than any Top 10 play list. The love of the game but the respect of the process...I love it.

This winter and spring have provided the opportunity to watch many more sporting events than I have watched in the recent past.  Why, I don't know but for some reason there are no complaints if I watch an hour of Greco Roman Olympic Trials or some other craziness of a Sunday afternoon...as I may have yesterday.

Sports have a funny way of bringing out the best and worst in people.  But when done correctly, even the worst of people seems to be fun in context.  I heard third-person tales of a producer on Moneyball bringing dirt from the new (and fake) Yankee Stadium into Fenway during the shooting of the film so to continue the Curse of the Bambino. (If you have to learn about this via Wikipedia, we aren't friends anymore).  Then there was that guy that buried an Ortiz jersey in the new (and fake) Yankee Stadium to curse the Yankees. 

Needless to say, I think the dirt guy won.

But sports and being a fan, if done well, can be cause for standing up and being really excited. We could win or we could also lose; but there is always next year.  The start of the race is unbelievable and the finish line is always the best thing you have ever seen. Two down, full count, and bottom of the 9th are three of the best and most nerve-wracking descriptions that have found their way into sentences from Fenway to Bush Stadium to Chavez Ravine, and to just down the street. There is always a Cinderella and you know you want it to beat Kentucky.

Nothing deep and powerful to say...just that this ad is great and it reminds me of the greatness of sports.

Today is gonna be a good day

Yesterday, I woke up and told myself regardless of any thing going on at work or in life, I would have a good day. And I did. I was repaid today with a 6am conference call and an optical migraine.

But I am still aiming for a good day.

A few lesson for this day:

1. Delivery Food is not good in San Francisco.
If you have to drive in a car to deliver the food and you are not a pizza guy, you are most likely delivering tepid dinner. And no one likes tepid dinner.

2. When given the choice of no MSG, take it.
Never had a problem before with this magical additive, but after some medical research (read: Googling) I learned that MSG may be a cause of migraines. So, even if it isn't the cause of this mornings aura's and crushing head pain, it makes you hungry after eating as if you had never seen food before and it is made in vats. I don't like thinking about eating stuff that comes in a vat.

3. Of course there is construction taking place outside of my office today.
My old office looked onto the East Side Access project. That resulted in months of drilling and blasting. Now, with the remnants of a migraine, there are some bastards "fixing the street" below my window.

However, the headache is subsiding thanks to generic Execdrine. I was really worried when the person at the drug store told me there was an Execdrine recall. I was like you got to be kidding but thankfully the cheap kind I was going to get anyway wasn't recalled and works pretty well.

The sun is now working its way through the clouds, I am going to get lunch at the Farmer's Market (because I ate mine after the not-Excedrine kick in) and hopefully I will feel 100% tonight for track fun.

Like I said, today will be a good day.

Wake up and be amazing

A few years ago I saw this commercial and thought it was pretty amazing.


My mother hates that word. Amazing is hackneyed and tired. At some point this word, born of biblical experience, became just some shit girls and boys say.* I have long tired to keep this unfortunately trite word out of my daily lexicon. However, sometimes it is needed.

This commercial was aired in the Fall of 2010. You may remember the Fall of 2010 being a pretty horrific time for the economy. All signs pointed in the wrong direction. It was getting easy to say that America was past its prime and that nothing we were doing was going to make this country great again.

When I watched this commercial it was most likely as I was getting ready for work or I was sitting on the couch with my lovely wife after a long day at work. But I wasn't being amazing, I was just doing my job and coming home. Not much in the way of risk, nor in the way of reward.