Post Race Wrap Up

A little over a month ago, I did something that 2 months before that seemed like a good idea. I did two half marathons within a few weeks of each other. And as has been the story with my last few runs, I struggled with my motivation to properly prepare for them. From bowing out of one race, to doing just enough for others, my last few races have been just OK. I'm by know means a world beater at these things, but I know where I can finish and my last few haven't been there.

May 15th I returned to where I made my first foray into the sport two years ago, the Mississauga Marathon.  Was I happy with my finish? Yes. But again, it wasn't quite where I know I can be. I crossed the finish line in 2:12 which was right about where I figured I would.

Two weeks later on May 29th I ran in Ottawa. This was fun. My finishing time at 2:21 I wasn't overly happy with, but the whole experience of Ottawa Race Weekend was amazing. It is an event the whole city embraces. Road closures weren't bemoaned like they tend to be in races around the GTA. The whole city gets behind it. At no point during the race is it just the thousands of runners plodding along. There are people everywhere. I think the only one who didn't get behind it was Mother Nature. It rained - constantly. But the rain did little to dampen the spirits of those that participated. I will most definitely be back to do this race.
And next time my showing will be better.

I'm not quite sure where my motivation has gone for running this past little while. Yes, it's punishing, but that's not what has drained me. I've heard it said that when you do a full marathon you must respect the distance. Train appropriately and don't take it lightly. And I wonder if that's my problem. My fear of running 22.1 km is gone. Prior to my first  few races I was afraid. I didn't sleep well. I feared going out too fast and burning out. I worried about missing one training run. The (ahem) run-up to the race consumed me. Now, not so much. I run. I finish. And what happens in between doesn't really phase me, but for when I look up to see the time I cross the line.

This isn't uncommon for this sport so I hear. People go through lulls and struggle with their motivation. My lull just seems to be elongated. The ever quotable Yogi Berra once said (of baseball) that, "Baseball is 90% mental, the other half is physical." And so it is with running. It is both mental and physical. Now I just need to employ more of my 90%.

Runners Low

To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

I'm not sure if Sir Isaac Newton was a runner, so I have my doubts that this law of motion has anything to do with the sport. However, I think he may have been on to something. His wisdom goes beyond just the world science and other things I don't understand.

I have been running for a relatively short time, maybe two years. In that time I have experienced the highs, the lows, and the in-betweens of the sport. I have struggled to make what is often the most difficult step for a runner, that first step out the door. I have run until the point where everything hurts and both succumbed to it and overcome it. And then, of course, there is that elusive runner's high.

Now, some will argue that runner's high is nothing more than a state of mind. Others attest to it being an actual physiological response. I say both. The physiological response for me comes when I cross the finish line. That, of course, fades and the comedy/pain of trying to put one foot in front of the other begins. Those who have been to the finish line of a race have borne witness to this.

Then there is the mental runner's high. Emphasis on mental because what I attempt to do in the days following a race are just that - mental. Buoyed by my accomplishment I will (sometimes) get back to pounding the pavement much to soon and my body and my mind are worlds apart. In my mind's eye I am an olympian, but my body is telling me I'm nothing more than a weekend warrior.

Until recently this was, in a nutshell, all that I had experienced in running. I can now add a new experience to that list - runner's low. The Newtonian definition of it might read something like this, "when you sign up for a race and don't do it because you got lazy and go to the finish line only to regret not doing it because you see everyone so happy and you wish you were one of them." That summarizes my Around The Bay 2011 experience. I signed up and didn't do it. And after seeing everyone crossing the finish line that will also be the only time I ever do something like that again. Strangely, I wanted to be one of the fraternity struggling to walk after running for 3 hrs. But I wasn't. I was on the outside looking in. And it wasn't a very picturesque view for me.

On that day, for me, there was an action and equal and opposite reaction. A runner's high which I didn't experience and a runner's low which I did.

biding my time

It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops.

                                                      A. Bartlett Giamatti ~ The Green Fields of The Mind

With the dust settled on the 2010 baseball season I have struggled to add purpose and meaning to my life. Much like banging your head against a wall, it hurts not to have baseball around. All this talk of free agents, arbitration, and winter meetings is doing little for me. All talk. No action. It is not disguising the fact that there are still over 3 months until it begins all over again. Alas, life goes on. Or so I'm told. I must do something to  bide my time. Give me a moment to think about this...

OK. My thinking grenades are used up. This off-season I could:

1. Grow A Mo. 
In the spirit of MOvember I could grow a moustache. Like this man, Rollie Fingers.
Ya, no. While I am all for supporting charitable causes, my stache would indeed be trash.

 2. Learn to do The Dougie
Ya, still no.



3. Run. 
OK, getting warmer. I like to do this. It hurts, but I like it. We might be on to something.

4. Eat food. 
Warmer still. I like to do this. A. Lot.




5. Come up with my own cologne. 
It worked for Gustavo Chacin.

6. Blog more. 


7. Pen a Sonnet. HUH?!


Only 7 things to do over the next 3 months. It's going to be a long off-season.






  

iRun

This time of year marks an anniversary of sorts for me. It was about two years ago that I became a runner. It was not so much out of a yearning desire to push my body to the point that everything hurts but more a matter of not wanting to have to shop at Northern Reflections.

My progression towards XL Nate was slow and gradual as most can attest to. The weight gain creeps up on you. Sure their were spurts of consistency at the gym, but they were too often offset by greater periods of consistency on the couch. Couple that with a lack of proper rehab from surgeries to both my elbow and shoulder and the number on the scale read more like my career batting average (also bad). It was the fall of 2008 that I had booked surgery #3 for my shoulder and knew that if things progressed I was soon going to be making calls to Prince Fielder's tailor. Something had to be done.

 With surgery I've come to learn, it's not so much the procedure itself, but your dedication to the rehabilitation afterwards that dictates the effectiveness of it. I knew there would be months afterward where physical activity would be reduced to a minimum while I healed. In order to prep for this, my plan of attack became getting myself in the best shape possible whereby I could afford to eat bonbons on the couch. I had roughly 8 months to do it in. So, I signed up for the Mississauga Half Marathon. Daunting? Yes. Impossible for me in my then present shape? Somewhat.

At first it was a goal I kept to myself. However, being a reasonably self-aware person I knew that if it remained a private thing I'd return back down the mountain I'd set out to climb. So, I started telling friends and family, one by one. Accountability. It was then that this goal became that much more tangible. It's much easier to let yourself down than it is those around you.

Eight months later race day had finally come. The hours in the gym, kilometres on the road, and forgoing of Baconators had paid off. I had lost 40lbs in the process. I was ready, yet nervous. I don't remember sleeping much the night before. Maybe 2 hours at the most. If memory serves, it was around the 14km mark that the running became more mental than it did physical. Physical preparation is one thing. Mental prep is a whole different ball of wax. Without ever having done a race of this length before I didn't know how to mentally prepare for it beyond saying "I think I can, I think  can, I think can." My legs started to feel heavy and I could feel some of my toes going numb. I was buoyed by reminding myself that with each plodding step the distance I had run grew greater while the distance I had yet to go shrank. And roughly 2 hours later it was all over. I crossed the finish line in almost exactly the time I figured I would. I was happy.

  To think of myself as a runner is still weird. Being asked for advice about it even more weird. I come from a baseball backround. Baseball players run in 90 ft bursts. I try to help out others where I can with the disclaimer that I am by no means fleet afoot. In fact, there are very few things in this life that I do at a high rate of speed. Nonetheless, running will always be a part of who I am now. Certainly not to the degree that baseball is, but still a part.