#395: Pennsy Meets The Wall

It was not a particularly glorious finish. Standing glassy-eyed by the side of the road while drivers slowed down to ask if I was all right. 19 miles into a 21 mile run, my longest ever, I had found it. The crash. The bonk. The WALL. The wall is legendary in Marathoner Lore. He's a boogie man who lives out there around mile 20 and asks each runner a simple question: "Can you run through me?" I had never met him before. I was not ready to battle him. Not yet.

Long Slow Run - 40° to start. 19.1 miles/04:24:54 @ 8:34 AM. Green Pegasus. Old Frankfort/Pisgah/Parkers Mill. Started at 3:00 run/0:30 walk, but slowed it down to 1/1 at the end.

Splits 13:07, 12:08, 12:16, 12:42, 12:23, (Mile 1-5 / 01:02:36, avg 12:31) 

12:53, 12:53, 12:37, 13:15, 13:33, (Mile 6-10 / 01:05:11, avg 13:02)

13:29, 13:40, 13,35, 14,18, 13:10, (Mile 11-15 / 01:08:02, avg 13:10)

14:53, 15:51, 17:52, 16:47, (Mile 16 - 19 / 1:05:23, avg 16:20)

Started too fast.Felt strong through the first 15.

I started out at what felt like a conservative pace. My goal this morning was to hit the 11 mile mark feeling strong and fresh. At Pittsburgh, the stretch from 11-16 miles is all uphill. It's a 220 ft climb that starts with a 164 foot ascent from the Monongahela river to Oakland in just 1.2 miles. There's nothing like that around Lexington, not that I know about. All I can do is run enough small hills, and hope I'm ready for the big one.


So, yes, I tried to set a very easy pace for the first 11 miles. And I was successful at that. When I turned the corner onto Pisgah Pike, (which is the most beautiful road in the Bluegrass, by the way,) I felt pretty amazing, and my splits show it. I was slowing down, but still around my target pace of 13:30/mile. By the time I finished mile 16, though, I was pretty well shot. I tried adjusting my walk breaks, eventually setting my timer at 1:00 intervals, but at 19 miles, the gas just ran out. I found a grassy spot and called for Mrs P.


I got a couple of good lessons from this run: about myself, and about The Wall. I learned that it is extremely motivating if you tell everyone you know that you are running a marathon and doing it to raise money for people you know and love. That's a lot of hearts to carry with you. Also a lot of scrutiny if you decide to wimp out. I don't think I could have have done those last four miles without you.


I also learned that The Wall is real and will shut you down in a skinny minute if you are not prepared for him. I thought I did everything right. Drank water. Took nutrition. Stuck to my Run/Walk/Run schedule. Ran Happy. I did my best. But I need to make my best better. 


This was my longest run ever. There will be a few even longer. I need to pay more attention to my pacing in the first part of a long run. I didn't slow down to my target pace until mile 10. I sure could have used some of that energy when I got to mile 17. 


Hey, I have a lot to celebrate. I ran 19 miles, for crying out loud. But 19 isn't 26.2. I did my best, but my best just isn't good enough to take on The Wall yet. 


But soon...


Peace,
Pennsy


LIVING STRONG AT THE Y, Pennsy's fundraiser to support LIVESTRONG at the YMCA is up and running. Please learn how you can contribute by clicking this link. Click. Give. Share. Together, we can do so much.

#368 I Wish I Were a Camera

If anybody ever asks me why I run, I'm going to take them for a drive down Colby Road. I would love to just post photos and videos of my run today, but my Kodak is too bulky and my phone takes very small resolution images, so I'll just have to try to put it into words.

I got a late start. I was up in plenty of time, Clare saw to that, but then I sat down with email and Twitter and Facebook and Coffee and Granola and the hour just got away from me. The drive took a lot longer than I expected. It was dark and a little foggy and by the time I arrived at 6:47, the rest of the Striders were long gone. I was relieved when two men in a car pulled up in the lot next to me. They were in running clothes, but were not part of our group. We exchanged greetings, and then went our separate ways. I turned on the little flashing lights that Mrs P bought me for night running, and started down Colby Road.

It was cool and comfortable in the dark. Maybe somewhere in the low 50s. I felt smooth and easy very soon, much sooner than usual. On the way home, I realized that this is because the first mile and a half is almost all down hill... which of course means that the last mile and a half is a heart breaker, but we'll get to that later. My breath came smoothly, three steps in, three steps out. I tried to stay slow, and thought I did a pretty good job. It wasn't until I got home and uploaded my run to Nike+ that I saw just how fast I had started out.

I could see nothing but trees and fence as I ran along. Occasionally a car came toward me. I tried to stay out in the lane long enough for the driver to see my jangling lights, then eased over to the side. There isn't much of a shoulder on most Bluegrass country roads. Usually there's just a ditch. I did not want to go exploring down there in the pitch black, 15 miles from home. The drivers all saw me in plenty of time and gave me a wide berth. They must have thought I was nuts. I suppose I am. Somewhere during mile 3, a magenta glow started to rise from the horizon ahead of me. Each time I came out of woods or to the crest of a hill, I could see the light growing as I continued east. "It looks like a promise," I thought as the sounds of animals waking up started around me. A lone cow lowed in a pasture. Some chickens stirred and a rooster did his rooster gig. Once or twice, a farm dog barked, checking me out, but not chasing as I jogged harmlessly past the gate.

Near mile 4, I looked ahead and saw a daunting climb. Three hills of increasing size rose before me like a roller-coaster. I remembered a mantra Jeff Galloway had mentioned in a podcast, and started repeating it softly to my self as I breathed out. "I love hills. I love hills." One step at a time, I found a way to enjoy every inch of them. Just before the crest of the last hill, around mile 5.25, I looked up and saw that the road was glowing gold. The sky was light by now, but I had not seen the sun yet. I could tell from the aura between the grassy banks on either side of the asphalt that I was about to see old Sol in all his glory. And glorious he was. I usually slow down a little to rest after a big climb, but now I was drawn toward the fiery warmth of the sun over the fields. Tucked into a little hollow at the top of the ridge stood a lovely church: High Point Apostolic. A perfect name, but an even more perfect message on the road sign out front. "When all my Strength is gone/ and I have no more Hope for tomorrow/ Lead me to the Rock." I laughed out loud as I spoke the words to myself. I wondered if the preacher could have known that a Fat Man would come running by on a 16 mile trek in the Saturday dawn. "Lead me to the Rock." I breathed. I remembered the days when my strength was gone. When hope felt more like wishful thinking than reality. I remembered the rocks God sent me then. My friends. My Mum. Mrs P. The theatre. When there was no way for me to get my little boat back to harbor safely on my own, God lead me to the Rock. And now he was doing it again. Right up and down the hills of Colby road.

Just past mile 6, I came to a big road. "Man! Am I in Winchester?" I didn't want to cross all those lanes of traffic, so I took a right turn along the shoulder and saw that yes, I had in fact run all the way to the next city. In my mind, I knew that it was only six miles from the starting point which was way out in the middle of nowhere, but I felt like a real marathoner for a while. There was a lot more traffic on the bypass. No more pastoral scenery. This was "Mall Land." Lowes. Walmart. Kroger. Rite Aid. Golden Corral. All the big boxes that are exactly the same wherever you go. You could have dropped me down on this road with a blindfold, and when I took it off, I couldn't have even told you what state I was in. So different from the distinctly Bluegrass pastures and farms I had just travelled through. I followed the highway as the cars zoomed by until my watch told me I had run 8 miles, then I turned around. I was eager to get back to the country.

I don't really remember much about the return trip. Only that I recognized very little of what I saw. One advantage of starting an out-and-back route in the dark is that everything looks new on the way back. I heard geese honking at each other. An Australian Shepherd woofed a warning when I ran past the goats who were safely behind the board fence and under their little black and white defender's care. Once a yippy little black dog of some kind actually ran out to the road and escorted me to the property line. I had my water bottle open and ready to squirt the little guy, but I was laughing so hard that I don't expect my aim would have been very good.

Climbing a very long hill, I looked down at my watch. 13.1 miles. I had just completed the distance of a half marathon. The last three miles were going to be gravy. I had two thoughts at almost the same time. First: I can absolutely finish this half in two weeks. Second: A full marathon, 26.2 miles, is a very, very long way. But then I remember when 5K was a long way. I remember when crossing the street was a long way. There's no telling how far we can run when we keep moving our feet.

I expected my energy to crash around mile 14. That was my previous long run, and that's how my conditioning has worked so far. When I extend past my longest run, the extra miles are hard and heavy-legged. That didn't happen today. Not even when I realized that I was going to have to climb most of the last mile. I kept remembering Melissa's motto from our training at the Y. "I don't quit when I'm tired. I quit when I'm done." So that's what I did. I ran to the end. 16.03 miles, just to be sure. I don't know when I've ever felt better.

The parking lot was empty, now. My lonely little Honda sat in the sunshine with a cool bottle of water and a soft, comfy seat waiting for me. I drove back to Lexington and stopped at Speedway for a bottle of chocolate milk and some Gatorade. Amazing, how fast you can chug a quart of chocolate milk when you put your mind to it. It was delicious. Then it was home to Mrs P, the dogs, and our friend Linda who spent the night here. I had some coffee and put this in my log.

55-65 degrees. 16.04mi/3:23:31 @ 6:50 AM. Colby Road. Red Pegasus. Intervals 5:00 run/0:30 walk. Splits: 11:54, 11:47,12:16, 12:04, 12:12, 12:20, 12:25, 12:22, 13:13, 13:00, 12:37, 13:08, 13:20, 13:22, 13:26, 13:33.

Now that I look at them, I can't help but marvel at how little of the story numbers can tell. This was a great run for me, in a lot of ways. But most of what made it great are things that you can't measure on a map. Life can be so fantastic when you put one foot in front of the other.


I just wish I could show you. I wish I were a camera.


Peace,
Pennsy

#364: Weekend to Remember, My Precious

This weekend was good, bad, and ugly, but it had a happy ending. I love when that happens.

Friday's Resistance Workout: New Rules Break-in (B)

Exercise	Sets	Reps	Weight
Deadlift	2	15	135
Lat Pull-down	2	15	170
Shoulder Press (machine)	2	15	30
Step ups (Db)	2	15	20
Reverse Crunches	2	15	30

HTML Tables
Friday night, I went to the Y to do some resistance work. I have decided to take another shot at the New Rules of Lifting program, and had a workout scheduled for that day. Now that I can finally do a modified push-up and a lunge, I can take the program on.  I did forget my lifting gloves for the deadlifts, but I just slipped my wedding ring off and stuck it deep in the pocket of my shorts.My increased strength is just one more reason I have to thank the folks at LIVESTRONG  at the YMCA. I finished off with a short swim. That's becoming my favorite cool-down. I think it's helping to strengthen my upper body as well, though I'm still very slow.

Rainbow by Lisa Broome-Price

Saturday morning started early with a pre-dawn drive to the lovely little railroad town of Midway KY where I joined John's Striders for a 14 mile jaunt through the Bluegrass. I've been shy about running with a group because I'm so slow, but  on this trip I fell in with a couple of runners whose pace I could match for most of the way. We ran and chatted along through the sunrise and the morning mist. There was even a rainbow to greet us after the first turnaround. I know I've said it before, but I do love my Kentucky home.

After our run, I managed to drive home and crash on the couch for a couple of hours. I find that running gives me more energy, but it often takes a couple of hours to kick in. I also found a nasty blister on the end of one of my toes. I'll spare you the photos.  I got some good advice on Facebook about how to prevent these particular little buggers, and I'll keep you updated as I work my way up the ladder of solutions from cheapest to most expensive.

After my nap, Mrs P and I spent some play time with the dogs, then we dressed and went to the theatre to see The Blithe Spirt at the Woodford County Theatre. We want to see lots of theatre these days, and the budget is tight, so we've been volunteering to usher. It's a great way to get in for free, it isn't much work, and it also helps the company out by helping to welcome patrons and cleaning up after the show. The play was charming with several fine performances, but during the first intermission, Mrs P leaned over and asked, "Where's your wedding ring?" I remembered taking it off, but didn't remember putting it back on. No worries. I was sure it would be in the washing machine where I threw my clothes as soon as I got home from my workout. After the play, we stopped at the Waffle House. This has become one of our rituals when we drive out to Woodford, and the guys always take good care of us.

When we got home, we started going through pockets. No ring. I rattled the washing machine. Nope. Checked the car. Dumped out the gym bag. Searched the rack on the porch where I leave my shoes to dry. Damn. It must have fallen out during my workout. I resolved to be at the gym at noon to retrace my steps.

The search and a couple of insomniac dogs kept us up pretty late, and we slept through the alarms for church. I got up and went to the store for milk and bagels while Mrs P made coffee. After our breakfast, we had another nice chat, (the weekend really is our catching up time,) then I called the Y. The lady at the front desk found a ring in the lost and found right away, but it wasn't mine. Some other poor schmuck lost his wedding ring at the gym. You might think knowing I wasn't the only idiot in the weight room would give me some comfort, but no. Marilyn promised to give the place another once-over, and we got in the car and drove over to join the search. I re-traced my whole workout, even searched the locker I had used. Nothing. Somebody must have picked it up. It was gone. I felt like a total heel. Mrs P was very understanding about it, but that didn't make me feel any better, either.

Weisenberger Mills. This picture
doesn't begin to do it justice.

Since it was such a pretty afternoon, we took a drive out to Midway. I wanted to show her the beautiful route we had run, and  maybe calm down a little about this really bad situation. We drove past the beautiful Weisenberger Mills where grains are still milled with water-driven stones. it's like a scene out of a Merchant-Ivory film. Just breathtaking. After a few more twists an turns through the Kentucky sunshine, we headed home for a snack and some chores. I had a few more snacks than I should have. Guilt eating: one of my favorite forms of self-destruction.Then it was time for the Steelers.

Mrs P always makes plans to occupy herself when the Steelers are on. She knows I won't be of any use at all, and football just doesn't do it for her. The game was terrible. My boys stunk up the joint and at half-time, they looked determined to lose. I sat despondent, sipping an O'Douls, (Mrs P says they taste like beer flavored pop,) when my sweetheart walked into the den with a smile on her face. "With this ring, I thee wed," she beamed and slipped the gold band back on my finger. She found it in the first place I had looked: the washing machine. I had warned her to use one of the mesh, lingerie bags when she washed her dainties. She couldn't find it, so she ignored my good advice. The ring got caught up on one of the hooks of her unmentionables. A happy ending. Suddenly it didn't matter so much that the Black and Gold were looking black and blue, and my craving for sweets went away immediately. They even managed to pull the game out with a last-minute field goal.

And to top it all off, One for the Five went over $2000 this weekend. I am so proud of my brother and sister cancer fighters for the support they are giving to this effort. $2000 will make a real difference to some cancer patient. And this is just the beginning. There's less than a month left to contribute. If you haven't joined us yet, use this link to learn the story and pitch in.

My Precious

There's a short recovery run on the schedule for today. I'll probably knock it out before class at the Y. But first, I'll be taping my ring to my finger. It's not coming off again for a long, long time.

Peace,
Pennsy

#173: All Along the Waterfall

Yesterday was a painful one, the first time my depression really inserted itself into this whole cancer situation. I had a restless, sleepless night and after fitfully dozing just before dawn, I woke up in a panic. I felt as if I were in my grave. The stale air conditioned air seemed to suffocate me. Panicked, I begged Mrs P to open the windows. I wanted to hear the birds and smell the earth outside. I wanted to see the sun coming in through the curtains as they billowed, filling the room with the late spring air. I wanted to hear the kids on the way to the bus and the grownups driving off to work. I wanted to be sure I was still alive. She did as I asked, then covered my eyes with a cool cloth and lay beside me till I slept.

Mental illness has been my companion for a long time - maybe all my life. Deep depressions can fall on me without warning. Something in my brain is on a hair trigger, and I never know what it takes to pull it. I have been surprised that the devil has left me alone for so long. It seems like cancer and depression should go hand in hand. Both lead to a longing for any relief, even death. Mercifully, my shadowy friend did not stay long. I don't really have the strength for long visits from anyone these days.

Tonight, I'm listening to the gentle song of the evening birds, so much less busy than their morning cousins. They seem to whistle to themselves as they are tiding up for the night. There is a big storm system to the south, heading for the eastern mountains. No flood warnings in our part of the Bluegrass, only the faint smell of earth and the promise of a cooling weather front bearing rain.

I'm sure it is a cliche to say that the proximity of death heightens one's senses. I do seem to smell more deeply. I hear individual voices among the birds and bugs and critters in my neighborhood. Today, as she changed the dressing on my PEG tube, I gazed at Mrs P, this woman I have loved for almost a quarter of a century. My god, but she is beautiful. In her eyes I saw the compassion and expertise she has developed after years of looking after animals and the people who love them. As she carefully cleaned me and placed the fresh bandage in the morning light, I watched the years melt from her face. The hair was dark again, the skin pale and clear, the lines of worry and laughter and tears faded away and she was the young girl whose devilish smile broke my heart within minutes of meeting her. I never had a chance.

When she had finished, she turned and looked at my moist eyes. She smiled and kissed me. Her face returned to its familiar shape and color. She was not the girl I married, but the woman I have come to love with all my heart. Her hair is not what it once was, but her eyes - Oh those beautiful brown eyes...

Hey where did we go,
Days when the rains came
Down in the hollow,
Playin' a new game,
Laughing and a running hey, hey
Skipping and a jumping
In the misty morning fog with
Our hearts a thumpin' and you
My brown eyed girl,
You my brown eyed girl.

Some things, not even death can change.

If you need me, look in the green grass, behind the stadium...

Derby Day

If you don't recognize the big red champion in this photo, stay out of Kentucky.

Seriously.

Maybe you’ve heard. We’re having a little horse race in the Bluegrass today. After a loud, blowing rainstorm last night, the sun is out, the roses are red, and the grass is as blue as as Bill Monroe’s mandolin strings.

I’m no racing fan. I don’t understand the language and watching Barbaro break his beautiful leg made me wish I’d never heard of horse racing. I’d much rather watch people risking their own necks in stock cars.

Still.

These horses are just about the most beautiful athletes in the world. I’d rather see them in the pasture than the paddock, but I’ll be watching them today, praying that no one gets hurt and the bravest one wins.

My friend Alex likes Pyro, I’m leaning toward Eight Belles, but only because I think it would be a hoot to see a lady dressed in roses. Mrs P agrees with Alex. Molly likes Big Brown - draw your own conclusions. The cats think the whole thing is just stupid.

I hit the gym ready to go this morning. After two days off, I wanted to get back to work, but I wanted to start easy. I did 10 minutes on the Step climber, getting better every day. I took another shot at the resistance band workout that I failed so badly on Wednesday. I finished, but I still cant believe what a workout they give me.

The run felt really good. 2.25 miles in 30 minutes. The fastest I could walk was 4.5 mph. Today is the first day I ran faster than I could walk. It seems like every day is a new milestone.

Now, where did we hide the good bourbon?

Peace, y’all
Pennsy

Counting on the Fat Man

My weight was higher this week than last, 366 instead of 362, but then I had just done an hour and a half of cardio before last week’s weigh in. I could easily have dropped that much water weight and more with a long workout. This Sunday was weights, not running. It’s probably a more reliable number. I hope I’m not rationalizing this. I worked out five days this week, and ate pretty cleanly, mostly fruits and raw veggies at the meetings and fish, chicken, and salads at night.

I got a body fat detecto-gizmo on Amazon. It looks just like the one that they use at the gym and the readings are close enough that I feel confident using it. My body fat today is 33.1 which is a little lower than two weeks ago. I’ll try to set a consistent time to take that reading so I can get a decent baseline.

Mrs P is going to get out the tape tonight and we’ll do some measurements. Of all the numbers in my life, those are the ones I anticipate will have changed most radically. There is just no debating the fact that my body looks and feels smaller.

The big news of the week for me is that on Friday I ran a full mile for the first time since starting my program. I expected it to be more exhilarating than it was, but it was in the middle of a thirty minute run/walk so I didn’t really have time for a victory dance. Next stop, 1.5 miles without stopping. I just hope it doesn’t take another three months to get there.

Working out was a huge mental boost for me this week. I had all the stress I expected and more at work, but being able to pound it out in the gym really helped me to stay human and sane. None of my “spells” this week.

Back to the iron today. I returned to the weight machines to see how the week of resistance bands had affected me. To tell the truth, I felt a little weaker, but I was able to finish my sets by taking longer breaks between. I may try some combination of bands and machines to keep working the muscles in different ways

The ankle continues to improve, though my left shoulder feels a little sore. I don’t remember hurting it, just discovering that it felt a little queer. I’ll keep an eye on it the next time I do arm work.

Don't tell my horsey friend alykat, but I actually made my first trip to Keeneland this week and did not hate it. The grounds are beautiful. The athletes are beautiful. The girls are beautiful. I don't expect I will ever be a racing fan. I would much rather watch horses running naked in a pasture, but there are much worse ways to spend an afternoon in the Bluegrass than watching beautiful stuff while the guy next to you wins $200 on a $5 bet.

All things considered, a good day at the end of a good week. It’s nice to be the Pennsyltuckian.

Peace,
Pennsy

Gum-Banz for Pennsy

If you didn’t grow up in the region of Pennsyltucky where I was raised, you probably never heard of gum-banz. They’re those rubber loops you use to wrap around a bundle of one dollar bills or hold your ponytail in place or shoot at your little sister. Folks from other places call them “rubber bands” but that just seems like a waste of letters to me.

Today I learned to exercise using great big gum-banz. It looks like something a sissy would do. Any sissy who can do the workout Brad taught me today, can have my lunch money anytime.

Let me describe this workout to you, because it sounds as crazy as it looks. Trust me, it isn't nearly as funny from the inside.

You start by bouncing a medicine ball - this ball is about the size of a basketball and weighs 6 or eight pounds - I don’t remember. You hold it up over your head, and slam it into the floor as hard as you can. Then you catch it and do it again. After about 90 seconds of this, I was warmed up and beginning a good soaking sweat.

Next is an exercise where you hold a ball with handles on both sides. You stagger your stance, then twist and reach down, as if you were picking up a watermelon. You explode up and across your body and reach high in the opposite direction.

Then we put the balls away and got out the resistance bands. Brad showed me how to clip them through a snap hook on the wall and do chest presses, rows, squat presses, oblique twists, and some crazy thing that I swear he made up on the spot. You bend down, press up, bend to the right, press up, bend to the left, press up, then bend down again. It was the end of the workout and I think I did two.Brad considered the prospect of giving me CPR on the floor of the gym, then agreed to let me stop for the day. He couldn’t think of a name for this last devilish exercise so I just suggested we call it the Bradley.

Oh, we also did my first real bench press with a barbell and everything. I felt like a kid again. Though I seem to remember benching a lot more weight when I was a kid.

I made my way to the treadmill with my shirt soaked, my arms numb, and my lower lip hanging helplessly from my slackened jaw.

My neighbor on the next machine chuckled knowingly. “Well, how was your session with Ol’ Blood and Guts?”

“That guy just whipped my butt with a big rubber band.”

“Yeah, he’s good at that.”

He is, actually.

This is just the sort of thing I wanted to add to my routine. It is a full-body workout with plenty for the limbs and the core. If my muscles were used to the weight machines, they are going to be doing some very new stuff. I’m going to stick with the bands for a week or so until I feel like I’ve learned them, then I’ll start mixing weights back in.

It is a fantastic spring day in the Bluiegrass. I came home last night and did some cleanup in the yard, then got out the old hand clippers and gave the hedges a haircut first thing this morning. Its the first time I’ve done any real yard work since I started going to the gym. I could feel a real difference in my strength and endurance. Nice to be able to do something around the yard and not wind up gasping for air.

All in all, a good day for the Fat Man.

Peace, and happy Passover.
Pennsy