Venice

A lovely town.  One you must visit, although it’s still not my favorite Italian city.  That spot (so far) is reserved for Verona, just an hour up the autostrada towards Milan.  But other than speeding through Verona, Goddess and I didn’t make it there this trip.  But we will.  Plus, there’s a lot Italy we have to explore.

And a lot of great wine.

So anyway, Goddess and I arrived on a Saturday evening.  After checking into the hotel to find our hotel room very cramped and reeking of cigarette smoke (both typical Italian hotel experiences), we headed off to find some dinner.  We got a recommendation from the lady working the hotel’s front desk and off we went.  We think we found the place that she recommended, mainly because there really weren’t any other options in the small downtown area of Mogliano Veneto.  We arrived “American early”, meaning around 7pm, which is at least an hour or so earlier than anyone else in Europe shows up for dinner.  So we had the place to ourselves. 

The food was good and the wine was better.  Apparently everyone else knew too, because the place filled up quickly after 8pm.  We enjoyed taking our time, but apparently not as much as the wait staff.  Once we were done, we asked three separate people and waited 25 minutes for our bill, even though they kept walking by not very busy.  It actually took us getting up to walk out before they moved.  Funny how that works.

So the next morning we headed off into the city.  Visiting Venice by train is the way to go, since parking VERY expensive (more later) and once you’re in the city, you can’t drive anyway.  So it’s better to get delivered directly to the grand canal with no traffic hassles.  And here’s the welcome:

As you can see, it’s pretty busy, even though it’s only 9am.  The tourists are already bustling around, making the walkways quite crowded.  But not unbearably so.

Goddess and I had rushed out of the house and had left behind my Venice maps from my last visit, which was just over ten years ago.  The beauty of the city is that it couldn’t change that much in ten years.  Sure, the shops may change owners, but the cathedrals, squares and markets would be in the same place.  So we had to buy another map.  At tourist prices.  And that became a recurring theme over the next two days.

Once we got walking, we noticed that there were people running down the alleys, each wearing a race number.  Very odd, considering the large number of tourists.  But these folks were clearly in hurry to get places, so they were definitely racing.  We watched a few and realized that it was an orienteering race.  The folks had their map and compass and would have to pause to get their bearings before taking off again.  It was fun to watch them weave their way through the crowds.  Some even at a pretty brisk run.  And I’m sure they enjoyed the ramps from the Venice Marathon, which was held just two weeks before.  I know those ramps made it easier to get over some of the bridges than actually running up the steps.  Hell, it made it easier for us to walk.

We worked our way to Piazza San Marco, passing canal after canal after canal.  One thing I found interesting was how green the water appeared.  It almost didn’t seem natural.  But it certainly was.  Even out in the open water, it was a different shade of green, but nowhere as bright as within the small canals, framed by the pastel colored buildings.

Once we arrived at the Piazza, we decided it was time to sit down and watch the world go by.  We sat at one of the cafés and ordered our coffees – me a Doppio (double espresso) and Goddess a cappuccino.  The total was €18, which works out to about $27.  Tourist prices. 

At least we got water and a chocolate with it.

But it wasn’t all bad.  We sat for the better part of an hour watching people go by, taking in the view of St Mark’s Basilica and clock tower.  We did what we do best – people watch.  One nice surprise was to see a young Asian couple, newly married, parade out and get their pictures taken in front of many of the buildings. 

Lovely couple.

After a while, we decided to head down along the waterfront.  Outside of the canals, this to me is the best view in Venice.

That’s the Basilica di San Giorgio Maggiore in the background.  A phenomenal complex that I’ve yet to visit.

So, being the tourists that we are, we decided to do the gondola ride.  If you go, beware that it is not cheap.  Bring the suitcase.  But it’s worth every second.  I’ve spent many hours roaming down side alleys, through doorways and into hidden courtyards.  But this is a completely different view of the city.  At one point our gondolier actually apologized for a jet flying overhead on its approach into the airport; he was upset that it shattered the calm.

But unlike the movies, he never sang for us.

Again, worth every penny.

And those of you who’ve traveled with me know how much I hate doing the touristy things.  I’d rather explore the back alleys.

Which is what Goddess and I did the rest of Sunday, well into the evening.

And we returned Monday.

Monday was definitely different.  The city shifted energies, away from a tourist-focused city to a living, breathing city on Monday.  The markets burst to life, the canals were packed with boat traffic as deliveries were made, and children filled the streets on their way to/from school.  And the tourists were still everywhere.

So we went the other direction.  To the point that the locals were looking at us funny, because it’s pretty obvious when two blonde folks are walking down a back alley in Venice that they aren’t locals.

And we’re better for the experience.

If you subscribe to National Geographic, then you saw this past Augusts’ article “Vanishing Venice”.  A wonderfully well-written, well photographed article (as you’d expect from NG) that delves into the disappearing native Venetian population.  But we caught glimpses of them at every turn.

Plus we got away from the tourist prices.

Believe it or not, this lunch (wine included) cost less than our two coffees in Piazza San Marco.

And we had it the tables all to ourselves along the side of a canal.

It was too cold for the Venetians to come out to take our order.  It was in the mid 60s (Fahrenheit for you snarky comments [you know who you are]).  But we sat out, sans jackets, and enjoyed the lovely day.

Soon it was time to make our way back across the city to look at carnivale masks. 

When I was here in 1999, I found one that I wanted to get Goddess.  We were dating at the time and I wanted to bring her a bit of this part of the world.  So I found the one I wanted to get her, then decided to go out and do some comparison shopping.  When I returned to buy it, the owner had taken her lunch siesta, but had hung the sign that she’d return at 2pm.  Well, 2pm came and went.  By 330pm I had to leave for the airport to catch my flight, which I did without the mask.

So ten years later we were in the store, picking out the ones that she wanted.  She walked out with a few.  All beautiful, including one that’s freaky (to me) when she puts it on.  But those will remain invisible to y’all until we find an opportunity to wear them.

But here’s one that was on the wall.

After that, we headed back to the garage to pick up our car.

Where we needed a suitcase of money to spring it free.

Since we had checked out of our hotel that morning, we couldn’t leave the car in their massive parking lot of four spots.  So we drove it to Venice, full of suitcases, then parked it in one of the towering parking garages at the city entrance that had a flat rate for any amount of time for under twelve hours.  The flat rate was the low, low price of €24 (that’s $36 USD).

From there we did a fine, fine job of getting lost in northern Italy.  But that’s a different story that involves not updating our GPS with new maps since we bought it.

But I won’t tell that here.

Next stop, a few places in Northern Italy (once we figured out where we were).

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BTW, you can click on each of the photos above.  The ones with the borders around them will just take you to a larger version of the image.  The ones with the blue lined borders will take you to my website, where a few other images are loaded.  I’ll be adding more in the coming days.  And if you see one you like, please consider buying it.  I’ve gotta pay for the parking somehow.  ;^)

Yummm! Part Deux

This is a continuation from part one.

So the newly adopted pooch is eating raw and I’m thinking about food. 

I had read a bit on the Paleo diet, then read “The Paleo Diet for Athletes” by Joe Friel and Loren Cordain.  I am quite a skeptic about pretty much everything, so I continued to do a lot of research.  Slowly my initial thoughts on Paleo being a knock-off of The Atkins Diet melted away.  Matter of fact, the more I read, the more I started to understand that it wasn’t so much the Atkins Diet that was completely out to lunch, but the way that the adherents during its popularity applied the principles.  In other words, fair concept, poor execution.

Sorry, but you aren’t going to lose weight AND stay healthy by eliminating all carbs but sucking down a Low-Carb Double Whopper at Burger King.

Coinciding with this recreational reading, I was doing research for a school paper covering the rise of childhood obesity, focusing specifically on the rapid decline of physical education and  physical activity in general in our youth.  Things started really clicking then.  Especially when I started noticing that obesity rates started rising sharply soon after the publication of the “Food Pyramid” (right) in 1992.  That was the first time that such an emphasis was placed on breads, cereals, pastas, etc., for the entire population, although carbs had been the focus for athletes for quite a while.

So the concepts of the Paleo Diet made quite a bit of sense to me.  I didn’t buy into it whole-hog (pardon the pun), but decided to give it a try.  The timing was perfect, since I was deploying to Iraq.  I could try it without impacting the family and decide for myself.  Matter of fact, Goddess didn’t even know I had changed how I was eating until about four months into my deployment.  By then I had already experienced some pretty impressive changes.  I didn’t have a reliable way to measure my weight and no way to measure body-fat, but I could easily see the results in the mirror.

As I read and ingested more on the Paleo Diet, there were still some foods deemed “off-limits” for unexplained reasons (that I could find).  Which led me to do even more research (hey, I needed something to fill my time in Iraq when I wasn’t working or running).  Slowly I began to understand more, which also led me into reading up on things such as glycemic indices and ketosis. 

But all of this didn’t dissuade me from enjoying an occasional chocolate chip cookie or slice of carrot cake.

Then one day I stumbled across this post on Mark’s Daily Apple, the blog of Mark Sisson.  It opened my eyes to Primal.  Mark, way back when, raced marathons and long-course triathlons.  In other words, not much different than you or I.  So I spent a lot of time reading through the archives, where I saw a huge overlap between Paleo and Primal.  There were differences, especially Mark’s insistence that physical activity should be anaerobic for short periods of time, completely eschewing the endurance sports that he participated in earlier.  But he acknowledges that there are those of us that do.  And Friel’s work with Cordain acknowledges the unique needs of endurance athletes, especially during and immediately post training/race.

Here’s a very good discussion on the differences between Paleo/Primal.  And for a different point of view on the differences, Mark Sisson posted this.

In response to part one of this post, Tea made a very good comment – “Although, I really don’t like to tag foods as good or bad because it sets alot of people of for failure.”  That is one thing that both Paleo and Primal camps do is tag certain foods as good or bad. One thing I do like about both is that they give the medical and chemical reasons as to why a certain food is on the list.  Turns out that many of the foods on the “bad” list have a tendency to block the absorption of critical components of food, specifically proteins, glycogen, vitamins and minerals.  As I researched this more and more, it all started making even more sense. 

As I spent the summer in Iraq eating (OK, I did just a bit more than that), I started really paying attention to what everyone was eating.  I wasn’t sneering at anyone, just observing.  I noticed that, as a whole, we were eating beige.  Everything was either fried or battered.  There was very little color.  Now Goddess and I had always strived to eat colorful meals, but there was always a pile of pasta or something similar on the plate.  No more.

So sticking with the concepts of Paleo and Primal while training last year, I was comfortably able to complete my 40-miler.  Fueling was key during the run, but in my mind, the more important fueling occurred during my training of the previous months, especially the post-run recovery meals.  But the real proof was in the pudding:

1 May 2008:  204lb / 26.2% BF / Waist 35”   ———————->    20 Nov 2008: 182lb / 18.2% BF / Waist 31”.

Those results really aren’t too amazing.  Over the years I’ve watched plenty of folks come back from a deployment 20-30 and sometimes even 50 lbs lighter than when they left.  It’s not too hard to do while deployed.  The trick is to keep it off; most don’t.  I’ve been home five months now and while I’ve had little fluctuations, I’m still right around 183lb/18.5%/31”. My daily caloric intake hasn’t changed over the past few years, since I’ve been tracking it very closely.  Matter of fact, my average daily caloric intake is the same now as it was last year as it was in 2007 when I was training for my IM-distance race.  But I am 15lbs lighter than race day for the IM-distance race.  The key has been the elimination of processed carbs.

Goddess can attest to the fact that I’ve got definition in places where I’ve never had definition, even when I was 15lbs lighter during my high school track/cross-country days than I am now.

The first few months of eating Paleo/Primal were interesting, especially during training.  I didn’t feel either sluggish or overly energetic, as some have reported.  Over the course of a few weeks my body started adapting to using more fat as a fuel source, instead of the steady stream of processed carbs that I had fed it before.  I tracked my intake closely and made sure that I did not put my body into ketosis, which is one of the health concerns of the Atkins Diet.  But I did notice that during and after particularly long and/or hard workouts, my sweat started smelling like ammonia.  It was odd, but not worrisome as I learned that the smell was a result of my body switching fuel sources from glycogen to amino acids.  So I made sure I upped the amount of fruits and vegetables I ate before such workouts.  The smell went away.

I did notice that my daily energy levels started to level out.  Gone were the daily post-lunch crashes after a carb-heavy meal.  Now I may occasionally want a nap in the afternoon, but typically only after a long, hard training run or after a night of less than optimal sleep.  Goddess keeps me up late most nights, you know.  ;^)

Now I am far from being dogmatic about this.  There’s nothing wrong with having a small serving of pasta once in a while, or a bit of rice with that sushi that I love.  And the other night we were at a neighbor kid’s 18th birthday party, where I had a few Oreo’s and a piece of sheet cake.  I just chose to move from having that as a significant part of my diet and I firmly believe that it’s made quite a difference in my health and performance.

And recently I read another book that all but confirmed my decisions – The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan.  While following the industrial food chain, centered around grains, Pollan points out many of the significant health issues related to our over-consumption of corn and the myriad corn by-products.  I highly recommend giving it a read.

Anyway, instead of turning this into a diatribe, I’ll close here.  I’ve got some resting up to do before this weekend’s marathon.

And some carb loading, mainly with fruits and vegetables, but I’m sure a plate of spaghetti will slide in front of me Friday when my mom and sister are in town.

 

P.S.  Goddess found that she had to drop the cooking time of the Flourless Chocolate Muffins to 25 minutes.  They came out great, especially with a glass of cold milk.

Yummm!

I am spoiled.

Goddess sure puts up with me.  Even when I say silly things.  She tolerates my training and racing, although she will shake her head at times and tell me that I’m nuts.

I am.

To some, I’m sure.

The most impressive thing has been her support of my eating habits.  She’s actually adapted quite a bit and makes wonderful treats like these Flourless Chocolate Muffins for me.

So what’s the big deal about it?  It fits quite nicely into my Paleo/Primal eating habits.

Both concepts were something that I had been doing a lot of research on for quite a while.  As Goddess can attest to, if I get interested in something, I research the hell out of it.  Mostly to satisfy my curiosity. 

Because I am a sponge.

Initially I poo-pooed both as concepts that were capitalizing on the Adkins fad.  And that was one thing I stayed the hell away from.  I saw many friends and co-workers jump on that bandwagon and do some pretty rough things to their bodies that they did not understand, all while eating crap and claiming that all carbs were evil.

And that was one belief that I fought violently.  I knew, and still know, that carbs are not evil.  Matter of fact, we need them.

But a dog got me to look more closely at the carbs that I was eating.

Yep, a dog.

Growing up racing in the ‘80s and through the ‘90s, carbs were king.  Racing track, cross-country, bikes and building up to ultra-marathon bike races in the late ‘90s were a great excuse for me to inhale carbs.  The more the merrier.  Pile them high, pile them thick.  Matter of fact, I swore that I was an Italian in a previous life.

And no matter how active I was, the waistband kept expanding.  I got pretty thick, but could still ride hard and ride long.  Unfortunately, with the added girth, any time the road tilted upwards, I’d get dropped.  But on the flats, I was a locomotive that the teams would love to jump behind as I’d drag them across the countryside.  So I made sure that I kept the engine stoked.  But I was failing at simple math, so I was easily taking in more than I was burning.

Once I figured out the math, I worked on that.  So it dropped off quite nicely.  But even though I tracked everything as closely as possible, I still was softer than I needed to be.  Even in 2007 when I was training for my IM-distance race, I dropped a fair bit, but just couldn’t get below 190lbs.  I didn’t worry about that though, figuring that 190lbs was my body’s comfortable “floor”.

But then the dog came in.

In late 2007, we started looking at rescuing a retired greyhound.  While we were waiting to be approved and waiting for a dog that would adopt us, I did a lot of research on feed, especially after the dog food contamination scare of 2007.  One thing that I kept returning to was the concept of feeding raw or biologically appropriate raw food (BARF for short).  Basically the idea is to feed the same foods that the animals ancestors ate, instead of the processed food with additives and chemicals.  It made perfect sense to me.

So we discussed with one of the ladies that fosters and helps place the retired greyhounds in homes.  She was extremely supportive, especially since she feeds her dogs the same way.  The resident veterinarian for the group was there as well and she was supportive.  That vet support is something that we’ve found to be rare. 

So when Skinny adopted us late last January, we started easing him in to a raw diet.  The pooch took to it immediately.  And as I’d stand there, holding a chicken leg quarter while feeling him crunch his way through the bones and flesh, it got me to thinking about the foods that I ate. 

<…to be continued…>

Ace

This won’t mean much to most, but it’s a bit of bragging.

Being in the military, fitness is a significant part of our job.  Matter of fact, we’re actually afforded a couple of hours every day during work hours to work out.  How perfect is that for me?  So we set aside the first two hours of the day for organized Physical Training (PT).  The downside for me is that the workouts are basic enough to challenge those that aren’t in shape, but not so challenging that it breaks them (that’s not the goal).  So I’ll often run the five miles to work and then start PT.  Then I’ll run home at the end of the day, stretching my afternoon run from 5-13 miles or more if need be.  Rinse, repeat the next day.

Anyway, the proof was in the pudding this week.  We had our PT test, which consists of a waist measurement, crunches, push ups and timed 1.5-mile run.

The waist measurement has been the bane of my existence.  In order to get a perfect score of 50, one must have a waist measurement of less than 32.5″ (for men).  Age is not a consideration, nor is height.  It’s actually measured just below the navel.  And for every half-inch greater than 32.5″, one loses 1.25 points.  Even though I was in shape to race Ironman-distance races, I still had enough around the mid-section that I’d lose 8 points before I even started.

But thanks to switching to a Primal/Paleo diet at the start of my deployment to Iraq, those inches have all but melted off.  I did lose some weight by switching, but mostly the fat melted away as my body composition shifted.  But don’t mistake my use of the word diet to mean that I went on a diet.  No, I actually had done a lot of research and decided that the way I had been eating hadn’t been working for me, so I modified the way I was eating.  For those who don’t know what Primal or Paleo diets are (and don’t click on the links above), the gist of it is getting back to a more natural way of eating, minimizing the processed foods and eliminating grains (for many different reasons).  Some mistakenly call them “low carb” diets, which they are not; it’s just a matter of getting carbs from natural sources, not processed sources.  Perhaps that will be a different post, since this one is already getting sidetracked.

Anyway, thanks to the sculpting that the diet change has brought about, I now measure at a cool 32.0″ just below the navel.  So that hurdle is out of the way.  The rest is easy.

Crunches – must do more than 47 in one minute.  Done.

Pushups – must do more than 40 in one minute.  Done.

Timed 1.5-mile run – must run faster than 10:21 to get full points.  Done, with a very comfortable, evenly paced 9:45.  Even after putting  20-miles on the legs in the previous 36 hours.

Now, I’ll admit I took advantage of my age group.  Once one turns 40, the run time gets a bit slower and the pushups and crunches are a few less; only the waist measurement doesn’t change.  But I actually ran faster than the 35-39 and 30-34 age groups require for a perfect score.  So next month’s goal is to add the few extra pushups and crunches and then ace the 35-39 age group PT test.  After that…

Plus, it’s fun to leave the twenty-something’s strewn all over the track during the run.

The Thrill Is Gone

Ummm.  Yeah, no it’s not.  Not even close.

But what a great tune.

One we got to see played live Thursday night.

First off, for those of you who are fretting over the silliness known as Valentine’s Day – I’m sorry.  Goddess let me off the hook regarding that day while we were dating.  Simply put, the day doesn’t make her feel special, so what’s the point?

Instead we celebrate (Goddess’) Day.  I inserted (Goddess) to save you all from the pain of my syrupy pet name for Goddess.  Besides, it’s just between me and her.

Anyway, (Goddess’) Day happens to fall on February 16th, which is the day that I proposed to her in the middle of White Sands National Monument in New Mexico.  Right at sunset.  That day makes her feel special.  And no, the thrill is definitely not gone.  And if you ever get a chance to visit WSNM, I highly recommend it.

Picture by kds4850

So last week, I happened to browse across the link for the B.B. King concert at the historic Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, which sold out in minutes back in December (so I thought).  Much to my surprise, I found that there were actually a few seats available.  We’re both big fans, so I snatched up two and decided to make a night of it to celebrate (Goddess’) Day.

What a great show!

The warm-up act was Buddy Guy, who was just amazing.  His set was unfortunately only one hour long, which he filled with ten minute songs and jams.  Seriously.  Thirty minutes into his show and he was just finishing up his third song.  And he’s quite a showman, playing tricks with his guitar while playing, even leaving the stage and strolling through the audience while playing.  He had the whole place rocking, which takes on a new dimension in the Ryman, which is an old church with a wooden floor and wooden pews for seats.

Which makes for amazing acoustics.

After a 45-minute intermission, which proved once again that the Ryman is the only place I’ve ever been where the line for the men’s room is huge and the women walk straight on in, B.B.’s band took the stage.

The next two hours were incredible.  B.B. even apologized for keeping us so late, ending the show after 11pm.  But he was clearly having a great time.  And that’s what impressed me the most.  Here’s an 83-year-old guy who’s been playing for over sixty years (he even mentioned that he was playing clubs before most of our parents were born), but he clearly loves what he’s doing.

And the two thousand people in attendance definitely loved what he was doing too.  The entire show pulled hoots and hollers from the crowd, lots of clapping in time and plenty of toe tapping.  Again, on the wooden floors and pews, the toe tapping takes on a whole new feel.  During quiet portions of songs, the crowd kept time, which sounded pretty good.  Except there are quite a few in the audience that didn’t have any rhythm.  Some so bad that it’s a wonder that they could even procreate.

Here’s Buddy and B.B. playing together (in what appears to be a video from the 80’s).  No video or pics from last night’s performance.  The camera nazi’s were in full force, swooping down on people as soon as they lifted a camera.  A few were even escorted out after repeated warnings.

After the show, we were starving.  We were hoping to grab a late-night breakfast at IHOP, but the one that we knew about was closed.  Since when does IHOP close?  So once again, the romantic side of me comes out and there I was, at 1:30 am, treating Goddess to Waffle House.  Reminds me of the romantic birthday dinner we had for her at Kentucky Fried Chicken.

But we won’t go into the reasons for that one.  This is a family show.

Is the thrill gone?  Not for B.B. King.  Not for Buddy Guy.

And certainly not for Goddess and I.

Phewwww!!!!

It’s been a crazy couple of weeks with work.  Lots of late nights hacking on stuff here at home to meet some tight deadlines.  But I just completed the last of the project and it’s time to exhale.

But the beauty is that the workload didn’t impact the running at all.  I’m close enough to work that I can run for my commute and get at least a 4.75 mile run in.  Longer if I get creative.

Wednesday we had a PT test.  Part of it is a 1.5 mile run.  I was curious to see where I was, considering I really didn’t run much during November and December.  A comfortable pace got me across the line in 10:15, so I’m right where I was last March for that test, but without the base period that I had last year.  Perhaps that’s a good indication of things to come.

Friday morning we did a 6-mile ruck march.  It was a beautiful morning for it, with temps in the mid-20’s.  Cool enough that the beads of sweat froze on caps.  The pace was nice and easy, averaging 15-minute miles.  But for grins, we pushed it a few times, taking advantage of the downhills and getting down to a 8:30-pace.  Nothing too fast, but when you’ve got 35+ pounds on your back, it takes on a whole new meaning.  A few minor blisters were the result, but nothing I couldn’t live without, especially after I got dry socks and a fresh pair of boots on the feet.

Saturday’s 7-miler was nice and relaxing.  We had a cold front push through during the morning, so the afternoon temps were a pleasant 37F, although the 20mph winds left a bit to be desired.  Especially when the last mile of my runs are facing north, right into the wind.  Brrrrr.  The only significant blister from Friday’s ruck march, which was on my left pinkie toe, broke during this run.  No big deal.

Today’s run was the longest of the week.  Scheduled for 90-minutes.  So depending on how I felt, it could be anywhere from 8-10 miles.  So I just went with the feel.  I had the odd heart rate issues that I saw last year, where I was just moving along at a comfortable pace for the opening miles but my heart rate jacked through the roof, pushing north of 180 bpm; Zone 5 for me starts at 157 bpm.  But I was never out of breath or feeling like I was pushing any effort.  But after a mile or so of this, the HR settled down into the mid-130’s, right where it should be.  No other odd issues like that the rest of the run.  Strong and comfortable the entire distance, hitting the 45-minute point at 5.1 miles.  I didn’t think about pushing it on the way back.  At least, not until the last mile.  Crossed the “finish line” at 1:27:56, so I negative split the 10.2 mile run.  Very nice.

Finally, eagle-eyed readers may notice a new page on the blog.  Unfortunately, it didn’t work out the way I wanted to, but if you go there, you’ll find a link to a new blog that we just started. Over the past few weeks, Goddess and I have been dabbling in several different red wines.  We discussed keeping track of the ones that we’ve had so that we know what we’ve enjoyed (and those we haven’t).  She started writing them down in a book.  So during today’s long run, I had a brilliant idea – blog about it so we can access it from anywhere.  So when I pitched the idea to Goddess, she was enthusiastic.  Especially after she reminded me that she mentioned the same thing to me a couple of days ago.  Man, I’m brilliant!  So if you’re interested, stop by, have a look, ask questions and leave recommendations.

I hope this week is a good one for you!

I Want Credit For Trying It

OMG, this is so my situation right now.

Over here, KBR runs the DFACs (Dining Facilities).  Nope, we can’t call them Chow Hall’s anymore.  But we do anyway.

Well, the DFACs have quite a spread.  So good, in fact, that a significant portion of the folks over here actually gain weight.  Nothing like having an all-you-can-eat buffet for every meal of the day.

Quite a departure from 10+ years ago, where we’d deploy folks that were in danger of getting drummed out for weight issues.  Deploy them for 120 days and they’d come back 10-15 (or more) pounds lighter.

So what does that have to do with Frazz’s dilemma?

I have a co-worker here who talks every day, every meal about how he needs to lose weight.  Every meal he pushes back from the table and says that he’s headed to the desert bar because he can’t help himself.

And he’ll talk to every new person we meet about how he needs to lose the weight and control his eating.

So he got a used bike.  Cheap.  Like ten dollars cheap.  But you don’t want (or need) anything more than that.  He got it from someone who was heading home.  Certainly not a bike that I’d race or train with, but certainly something that would do a good job of getting around and maybe cranking a few laps around the lakes.

You know, something that would help burn off some of that dessert.

First ride, he comes back and says that it’s unusable.  Why?  Because the back wheel wobbles.

I offered to go after it with a can of WD-40 and a wrench to true the wheel.  Nope, that’s too much trouble.  Easier to complain about it

So I do feel Frazz’s pain.

Da Dip

So hawt!

If you’ll browse through the left column, you’ll see that I’m a Maker’s Mark Ambassador. I am a big fan of the Mark.  A very fine, very smooth Kentucky bourbon. I prefer it with just a splash of clean water to mix up the essence and then an ice cube or two, depending on how many fingers deep the pour is.  But if you prefer mixing, it stands up quite well to that use as well.

Ass Sweltering Pain

Yep, that’s what I’m calling my race report. Three simple words, combined, encapsulate the week leading up to, and including, the National Marathon To Fight Breast Cancer, aka “Running with Donna 26.2″. Warning: This is a long, long, long post.

First off, the ass. I won’t include a link here, since most of you know what one is. Matter of fact, I’ve been called one from time to time. It’s even likely I’ve been called one in the past 24 hours. But I digress.

For those of you that follow this blog, you’ll know of my inability to run for the past month due to a very painful “calf pull” that I experienced in mid-January. A couple of weeks off from running, as well as stretching and massage, did seem to help. At least until I ran on it again. With only two weeks until the marathon, I was desperate to find something to fix my pain. So last week, while driving to the rodeo, I did some exploratory poking and squeezing on my calf (while driving, which I DO NOT recommend). The exquisite pain that shot up my thigh, into my glute and the small of my back got me to thinking and a bit of research once we got home that night. With the help of my Trigger Point Therapy Workbook and TriggerPoints.net, I was able to narrow down the culprit, which certainly didn’t cross my mind in the previous weeks.

Who would’ve thought that a debilitating calf issue would be caused by your butt? Even with my experiences and successes with trigger points over the past year, I certainly didn’t. In the picture below, my particular issue is the one on the right.

As you can see, the X’s mark the trigger points and the red areas mark the associated pain. I didn’t typically feel any pain in my hamstring area and had only felt the pain in my cheek area during my long runs leading up to my “calf pull”. The majority of the pain associated with this trigger point was in the area on the outside of my calf.

But that still wasn’t the “calf pull” area. That area was more associated trigger point #2 on the Soleus, but frequent massage and pressure on that trigger point did not solve the problem, so it had to have something else contributing. That turned out to be the Gluteus Minimus.

After referring to the book and the web site, it was time for a bit of exploration. For such a sensitive area, I’d normally turn to the Goddess for help, but one thing usually leads to another, so I had to do this one myself. Plus, since the gluteus minimus lies beneath the gluteus maximus, the probes had to be deep and forceful; not something she enjoys doing (she tells me “that’s your job”). The probes confirmed a line of large knots right where the muscle attaches to my pelvis. Let me tell you, there was no pleasant in this probing.

So all last week I massaged them by sitting on a tennis ball on the living room and slowly rolling over the muscle, working from one knot to the next. Quite a few times the pain took my breath away. Following each rolling session I’d stretch. I found the most effective stretch for me is the Prone Glute Stretch, which feels absolutely wonderful. By following this sequence on both legs last week, I was comfortable that I could start the marathon on Sunday.

In the final days before the marathon, I revamped my original goal (break 4:00) and came up with three separate goals, two of which I could fall back on if the previous goal was unattainable. They were:

1. Break 4:00. Even with one month off, there’s always the possibility that the forced rest from the injury would deliver me to the line so fresh that I would comfortably crank out the required 9:09 miles (which I was doing with ease on my long runs leading up to my injury last month).
2. Complete the race. With the most likely possibility that I would still be feeling the effects of my calf through the race, I would have to adjust my finish time goal on the fly and hold out for the finish.
3. Stop the insanity, wait for Goddess and my sister to catch up, then walk the remainder of the half-marathon with them. The intent of this goal was to continue to heal and hopefully set myself up for April’s Country Music Marathon in Nashville.

The overarching goal was to not injure myself any more. But doesn’t that go without saying?

Goal number three was the only goal as recent as 7 days out from the race. I had resigned myself to not running the marathon and would enjoy the morning with Goddess and my sister. That certainly isn’t a bad thing, not by any means, but my goal signing up was to race the 26.2. But with the “discovery” of my gluteus minimus, goals 1 and 2 quickly became more attainable.

After a gaggle at the start area (see “BAD” and “UGLY” below), we were off. I was very comfortable at a 9:30 pace for the first few miles, figuring that if I was to achieve goal 1, I would warm up during the first few miles and then be able to slowly ramp up the pace. That’s my typical race strategy anyway, since I don’t typically warm up for 4-6 miles.

By mile 4, I could feel my calf. No pain, but a steady discomfort; enough discomfort to back off the pace and toss goal #1 out the window. At no point during the 26.2 miles did my calf hurt like it had during the previous month, so that was a huge success.

By mile 6 I had passed the turn-around for the half-marathon, so I was committed to the full.

At mile 10, my quadricep heads started to cramp slightly. Not a good sign, but a reality of the day.

By mile 13.1, I was a full 20 minutes slower than my half-marathon split at the Flying Monkey Marathon, which had over 2,000′ of climbing. This course was flat, with only 215′ of total climbing! It was a run-walk strategy for the last 13.1 miles.

Why so slow? Other than the leg issues, for me it was the weather. Over the past several months, I’ve been running in a Kentucky winter. Runs in the snow, runs in some pretty cold wind chills, runs in dreary overcast days with temperatures hovering in the 20’s. The morning we left to drive to Florida, it was 19 degrees. And that was after a couple of days of ice and snow. In Florida, by the time the race started on Sunday morning, it was 69F with 75% humidity and continued to get worse, settling at 75F and 65% by the time I finished. In other words, relatively oppressive heat.

Although I knew it was going to be warmer, I failed to properly build my hydration and electrolytes in the days leading up to the race. It caught up to me.

I inhaled my Clif Shot Bloks, wishing I had more than just one pack of the Margarita with Salt. I started gulping the Accelerade that they provided and even talked a First Aid tent volunteer out of his bag of Lays Potato Chips at about mile 20. I was able to keep the cramping at bay for the most part, but it would rear its head enough to keep me focused on sucking down as much electrolytes as I could.

Goddess called and told me that she and my sister had finished. I was (and still am) so proud of them; neither had done anything like that before, not even so much as run a 10K. They committed to walking the 13.1 with each other.

Between miles 20 and 21, I had the most amazing walk with a lady. I first approached her because she was wobbling like crazy and I was worried about her. The heat was definitely taking its toll on everyone. Turns out she was a 68 year old who was using the marathon as a training run for an upcoming 50-mile race. She was quite upset with her performance thus far because she knew she was fitter than that, just coming off a 70-mile training week and had run under 4:00 in the past year. She was from out west, so the humidity was definitely getting to her. I waved down medical support, who had a talk with her and let her continue. I was quite pleased last night to see that she had finished the race.

By mile 22, I did some quick calculations and realized that I needed to pick up the pace if I was to finish in under 6:00. With the heat and cramping, it was going to be a challenge. At this point, everyone was walking. Occasionally someone would shuffle for a minute or so, but it really was the walk of the dead.

I revamped my walk-run strategy and threw time out the window. No matter if I picked a 2:1 or 1:1 time strategy, I just couldn’t get the legs moving very well after walking. So I decided on a 30:30 strategy, not of time, but of foot strikes; 30 left foot strikes while running, 30 left foot strikes while walking. It kept me focused and moving relatively quickly at a 9:45 pace during the run segments. In the next two miles I figure I passed between 75-100 people. That was a huge confidence boost.

At a mile-and-a-half out from the finish, the worst climb of the day arrived as we had to climb a bridge that crosses the Intracoastal Waterway. Past the last water stop and starting to cramp again, it was back to walking. Turning the last turn, greeted by the sign “The last .2 mile will kick you in the ass” and seeing the finish line got me moving again. The cramping got me walking again. Even coming up to the timing mat that they had set up with 100 yards to go, my leg locked. Luckily that didn’t come through in the pictures. I was passed by quite a few folks at this stage, but I couldn’t have cared less.

Finish time – 5:57:14 by my Garmin, chip time 5:57:18.

The Good -

• I finished. Thanks to the lack of running over the past month, this entered back into my race goals.
• I broke a rule of racing and was better for it. I wore my new pair of Injinji Toe Socks and they rocked! I had been wearing Thorlo’s for the past year+ and had always had problems with blisters on the balls of my feet, no matter how much or how long I ran. The Thorlo’s are thick and have good padding while the Injinji’s are very thin with no padding. So I discovered that with the Injinji’s I’ll likely have to come down half a shoe size to make up for the difference in sock padding. With the thinner socks, my forefoot was sliding around a bit in the shoe box, but absolutely no blisters!
• I had several mental breakthroughs during the race. Details are unimportant, but they happened.
• The communities of Jacksonville Beach and Neptune Beach absolutely rocked! A significant portion of the race ran through neighborhoods, which effectively cut them off to all auto traffic. So the residents made the best of the situation and stood out in their driveways, sprayed the runners, provided oranges and cheered. One group of guys even provided shots of beer at the 21 mile mark (it was GOOD).
• For a first-time event, the course was completely stocked with supplies on the course. There was never a shortage of water, Accelerade or Gu (I didn’t use it, but they had plenty). This was in sharp contrast to several of the more well-established events that I’ve participated in.
• The support from the community and runners (I know I mentioned the community before, but this is different). Since this event was to raise funds for Breast Cancer Research, each of us could wear a sign on our back that said who we were running for. Mine said simply “Mom”, who is a survivor. I had many folks run past saying “I’m running for Mom too”. That was always a great boost. More humbling were the folks who ran by with 7, 8 or 10 names on their sign. More amazing was running and talking with survivors who were out there pushing themselves. The couple of times that I thought about folding I thought about what my Mom and all of these others had gone through; my discomfort paled in comparison.
• The support and advice from those of you out in blogland. Thank you so much for the public and private advice and concern. That really means a lot to me.

The Bad -

• There weren’t corrals for the runners, just pacers with planned finish times, so you would look for your planned finish time and stand near that person. The gun went off and it took a couple of minutes to get to the start line (normal). But once we got moving, it was evident that several walkers had seeded themselves at the front, causing several traffic jams and collisions as the thousands of runners had to work around them. I applaud those ladies for getting out there and moving, but at the front of 8,000+ was not the place to be.
• This also goes for the folks following the Jeff Galloway plan. Overall, I believe that this group did great things for thousands of runners at the marathon, but sticking to the plan in the first mile was a recipe for disaster as the pacer yelled “Walk” and groups of 60+ runners stopped to walk just 3 minutes out from the start line; again, they caused huge traffic jams and many collisions in a very crowded situation. Tempers were flaring already and I’m surprised no one got hurt.

The Ugly -

• The race started a full 30 minutes later than the 8am start time. They knew it was going to be warm and were announcing over the loudspeakers that folks need to adjust their pacing and not plan on a PR, yet still started it late. It looks like they’ve fixed this and have adjusted the start time for next year’s race to 7:30am. Hopefully they’ll start it on time.

Lessons learned -

• Electrolyte loading – I can’t believe I still haven’t figured this one out. I’ve known for many years that I’m a very heavy sweater and that I lose a lot of electrolytes during a race. Yet I never remember to load up on them until I’m in the race.
• A stride-focused walk-run strategy is the key when I get to that stage. I was amazed at how easy it was to get moving once my left foot hit 30. And it was easy to hold an unflagging pace for “only” 30 strides.
• The Base layer is crucial. What’s that? A base layer in 70 degree weather? Yep. After running the Monkey and chafing my nipples down a full 1/32″, I learned that I needed to wear a skin tight layer under my shirt. Let’s just say it was a good thing that I wore a red shirt for that race. Since then I’ve always worn a skin tight technical shirt and haven’t had any problems. I did the same for this race and it was a godsend. Once the heat got unbearable, I peeled my outer shirt and let the slight sea breeze cool me. The wicking effect really kept me cool, even though the shirt was black. I’d even dump a cup of water over me and get chilled, which was great! So if you look at my race pics, you’ll see that I’m wearing two different shirts.
• Stretching, massage and cross-training. I need to do more of each to help with these injuries, all of which have been flexibility related over the past year. I’ve had much success with identifying the appropriate trigger point and relieving the pressure, but some have taken longer to solve and have kept me away from training longer than I’d like. So I now need to schedule more sessions each week.

Will I do this race again? Absolutely. The location was great, the community was great and it had the added bonus of allowing me to spend several days with my parents as well as my sister and her family.

From here it’s the Tom King Half Marathon next month and the Country Music Marathon in April, both in Nashville.

‘Tis the Season(?)

…But I’m not exactly sure which season it is.

I think this guy’s got the right idea about how the season’s being celebrated by the masses. Damn shame, too. Goddess and I shake our heads at the news coverage and the interviews with people. What really floored me was reading an article recently where a guy admitted that he took out a home equity line of credit just to fund this Christmas. Crazy! (I really wish I could find that link again).

Goddess and I have many reasons to be joyful throughout the year, so we look at Christmas as just another day; every day we wake up and fall asleep together is a great day.

She’s making the brine right now to soak the turkey that I’ll smoke tomorrow. I still don’t think that qualifies as an event, since it’s something we do a couple of times a year.

On another note, I just found out that I won this year’s game, so I’m quite pleased. It’s a game that is played throughout the year and the results aren’t known until the last couple of weeks of the year. It’s the tax game. And my game is to come as close to zero as possible. We came out only a Jackson away from that target, so that’s a win!

And in case you’re wondering, it doesn’t matter whether it’s a plus-Jackson or minus-Jackson. It’s just like trying to hit the bullseye. That’s right – no refund or payment is a complete win. That’s the target, but it is difficult to hit. Although one day I’d love to see a single-digit number.

We do wish each and every one of you a joyous season, whatever your beliefs. And here’s hoping that 2008 is a year in which you find joy and prosperity. So get out there and celebrate the real reasons for the season.  I’m off to give Goddess a hug.