Getting Back

Ok, so perhaps it's been long enough since my last post. In a weird sort of way I almost didn't want to let go of Chicago. So keeping that post as the forefront post of my blog seemed like it might be a way to hang onto the day. But lo and behold we all must move on. And despite being a Boston Qualifier for the first time in my life it seems so surreal. I don't feel any different. I feel like the same old Vince. But I've also not felt like the same old Vince in a lot of ways.

I have experienced post-marathon depression before. Certainly after Philadelphia when I missed qualifying by 0:04 seconds, that was understandable. After my first marathon in Cleveland in 2006 I experienced the feeling of "now what?" And now you can add Chicago to that list. This last about as long as the previous two (10-14 days), but in some ways this has been completely different.

I know I have Boston to look forward to. I am also as fast as I've ever been. My training pace miles are consistently under or around 7:00 miles. I should feel great! But for some reason I don't. I plug away almost machine-like and feel that perhaps a rest is in order. One that I never took. I have not missed one day of running since well before Chicago. And yet, I cannot bring myself to stop and take a day for me. Maybe over the holidays.....

Lucky Seven, A Boston Qualifier and a PR

It may not look like it, but you are looking at a very happy man to the left. After years of attempts at trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon, I FINALLY DID IT!! It took seven marathons. Lucky 7 as it turns out. That and a fast course like Chicago with temperatures that were nearly perfect. When I nearly missed in Philadelphia in 2007 I remember thinking that the stars had aligned that day. I was at peak physical fitness and the weather completely cooperated. My biggest fear leaving the City of Brotherly Love that day was that I might never have the stars align for me again quite like they did that day. But align they did. With a starting line temperature of 29 degrees, it might have been just a tiny bit too cold, but I'm a cold weather runner. Whether I like to admit that or not it is true. And so for one fateful morning in the midwest along the streets of the Windy City, the stars once again aligned for me.


Setting a blistering pace from the get-go (6:10 first mile), I felt pretty good despite going out too fast and knowing that's not how to run a marathon. Still, as the miles clicked by and I kept having sub-BQ paces mile after fateful mile, I sensed that this might be the day. When I crossed the halfway point in 1:32 and some change I quickly determined that it would take a monumental collapse to lose my first ever BQ. I needed a 3:20 to qualify for the 2011 Boston Marathon (since I will be 4o that day). I could have qualified in my current age group with a 3:15 but qualifying has always been the goal. Some might think it's "backing in", but Boston sets the standards. I simply follow them. Anyone who feels as though that's "backing in" should go run a marathon and see for themselves that it's simply not true.


As the BQ miles continued through the first 21 miles I was feeling pretty good. My legs did get weary and just past mile 23 I felt sluggish to the point of stopping. I did stop and walk for a short time (about 25 seconds). During that fateful 25 seconds I spoke to myself. I asked myself why I was walking. I asked myself if I was blowing it. I determined that I was so close in Philadelphia and all I could think was, "don't let that happen again". I remarked outloud (to myself, although I'm sure others heard me), "You either want this or you don't. Make your decision and get moving." So I did. I started to jog again. I figured at a minimum I just needed to keep moving forward. I was watching the sands flow through the hourglass before my eyes and I decided that today was going to be the day. There were too many people following my progress. Too many people to disappoint. And yet, I only cared about one person. Me. I did not want to have to live with myself if I let this slip away.


With one mile to go I looked at the watch and saw that I had just under 12:00 to get it in. I can walk a 12:00 mile. I knew I had it. I tried to enjoy that final mile, soaking in the crowd and the moment I was about to experience. For a brief moment I completely enjoyed knowing what I accomplished. So many things ran through my head. One thing I could not forget was the pain and suffering and mental anguish I experienced last year when I broke my foot. The uncertainty of whether running this far again was even going to be remotely possible. And here I was, just under a year later, not only running the distance pain free but qualifying for the Boston Marathon. In the days leading up to this race I remarked often that so few people ever get this close to a dream. I was living it and appreciating it. I worked hard. I suffered and deprived myself all summer and it paid off on October 11, 2009. Chicago, Illinois will forever live in my heart as the place I reached out and grabbed a dream. I will definitely go back someday.


My mind quickly shifted to my next race. When will it be. I'm certainly not waiting for April 18, 2011 (my Boston Marathon). So yesterday I officially signed up for the Pittsburgh Marathon. The disappointment I endured not being able to run it this past May needs to be put to rest. I will run Pittsburgh with a relaxed mindset that I don't know that I've felt since my first marathon in Cleveland. I don't have the pressure of having to qualify for Boston. I'm sure I'll set a time goal, but it won't be a BQ pace. And yet, I feel as though I can do it again. I feel as though a 3:00 marathon is a possibility.


Upon returning from Chicago I took no time off. I have not missed a run in months. I have maintained the speed I had and took to Chicago with me. Faster in a lot of ways. Today I ran the Red Cross Vampire 5k and the benefits of my marathon training and fitness level paid off big time. Today I set a 5k PR by 39 seconds. It was my first sub-19:00 run as I crossed the finish line in 18:51. Once again I can only think that my running can still improve. I believe I can and will get faster. My body continues to adjust and improve and become more efficient. I am amazed at how far I have progressed in a year.



Below is a short photo journal of my trip to Chicago:

A Date With Destiny?

Tomorrow morning is the Chicago Marathon. I have trained hard all summer. I have not had a drop of alcohol since June 20. I have suffered. But has it been enough? I will begin to find out in about 8 1/2 hours when the race begins in Grant Park in downtown Chicago, Illinois.

I am quietly confident, but one never knows what is in store for you across 26 miles. I pray I've done enough. I pray that my body cooperates and I pray that the dreaded wall never appears.

Update to come with photos in about 15 hours.

Good night Chicago....

Perfection

I'm a perfectionist. Always have been and most likely always will be. That's why it's so difficult for me to learn that I'm not perfect in so many ways. Running will teach you over and over again that you can always improve in a variety of ways. Just like life. Sometimes it throws you a curveball and you can't seem to make contact. The mental struggle continues.

25 more days...

Ready for the Truth

One of my favorite motivational quotes of all time I found on a blog somewhere else on the internet. It said, "20 miles of hope, 6 miles of truth". Today I ran 20 miles. I awoke at 5:58 a.m. and did what I normally do now that I've got an iPhone. I checked my email, looked at Facebook to see what friends are up to and then rolled off the side of the bed into the darkness of the morning.

I put my contacts in and headed down the stairs to the basement where I got myself ready for what I knew would be a very long run. It's the run that I normally dread. But this one I looked forward to all week. I wanted to run this 20-miler as if I was trying to qualify for Boston today. Why? I wanted to see where I stood on the brink of heading to Chicago. In just over 34 more days I'd be doing it for real. Each rung on the ladder of climbing this summer has been another hurdle cleared on my way back from one of the most awful injuries I'd ever sustained. Today was another hurdle. Another opportunity to do what I think most would say is not possible. Not after running just 2 1/4 miles in January and February. Not when in June and early July I was still struggling with some residual foot pain that cropped up from time to time and forced me to take days off from my schedule.

But I've never been one to submit to that which people say cannot be done. No; I'm motivated by that. I enjoy looking back on an accomplishment and saying, 'wow, I can't believe I just did that'. And so this morning I stepped outside into the foggy morning mist of a beautiful Labor Day Sunday and headed off on my path to self-discovery once again.

When I climbed the hill into Westmont and closed in on mile 3 and my legs began to get heavy I questioned whether or not it was wise to run this thing quickly. After all, the long slow run is to be done slowly. The purpose is not to qualify for Boston today. Yet, I somehow didn't listen to my body and looked at it as an opportunity. When I hit mile 6 and regretted having Mexican food at Don Pablo's yesterday on the way to the Pitt game I could have easily listened to my gut and my instinct that said, 'do 10 and then do the other 10 later this evening'. I thought about it, but only for a second.

As I hit my house and finished the first 'lap' of 10 miles, the fog had only begun to dissipate in patches. I grabbed my gel and drink and decided that the split run was not happening today. When the gel kicked in and I got a short burst of energy a few miles later I knew I had made the right decision. When I hit mile 15 and Becky was there waiting with my final gel and water for the day I knew it would be a tough 5 miles, but I looked at it as an opportunity to test my limits and push myself. After all, it WILL be required in 5 weeks on the streets of Chicago. There is no doubt that it WILL be needed. "Don't cave to your instincts" I kept repeating in my head. "This is part of the process. This will carry you when you're there. You'll remember this run."

When I hit mile 18 and knew that each step beyond it was the furthest I had run since the Johnstown Marathon last October I gained a growing sense of purpose. I pushed on. I knew that 1 3/4 of the final 2 miles would be mostly flat and downhill. Peering at my watch I knew I was having a good run; timewise. I knew I was struggling. And when I hit mile 19 and kept repeating that my legs "felt like 20 pounds of ground hamburger meat hanging from my hips" I knew I was growing. This is what the marathon is all about. I didn't have anybody pushing me today. I didn't have crowds lining the streets for each and every step. I only had me. And that's who is largely responsible come race day. Those other things help and surely they will. But not today.

Crossing my finish line behind my garage I clicked the stopwatch. 2:36:14. On race day I'll need to be at 2:32:40. But all things considered, today was a good day. My legs are still heavy but I've had worse. My body is cooperating. Even though I hesitate to say it, I feel I'm ready right now. I've got 5 weeks to go and I'll use each day to fine tune where I'm at. But the hard stuff is almost over. One more very long run next weekend that is yet to be determined distance-wise. I've got my 20-miler in. If I don't want to, I don't need to do another. There is comfort in that but I'll probably still do another. But it won't be fast. I'll save that one for race day.

I hope that the weather cooperates and I hope that today goes a long way toward getting me to that finish line in under 3:20. In 35 days, I'll be ready for the truth...

Community Disappointment

Today I ran the Rockwood Rotary Half Marathon. I finished the 13.1 mile course along the Allegheny Trail in 1:38:51. Missed a PR by 1:05; run on this very same course a year ago. Might have been the humidity or the fact that I ran the first six miles far too fast. I didn't leave enough in the tank. Even though I finished with a decent time, I was still disappointed. Not so much in the finish time. Well, that's not entirely true. I'm always disappointed in my finish time. No, this disappointment was more in the running community. The running community is one which I have come to know as one of the best. Runners traditionally are the nicest people you can come across. A quick trip to the message boards on runnersworld.com or a discussion with a running mate at a marathon or local race and you'd see what I see. Unlike other sports, where competition is fierce, the running community is one of encouragement and support and camraderie. It took me awhile to get used to it. A lifelong sports addict, I would rather lose a limb than lose a game. But I have come to appreciate the community of runners. It is something I enjoy.

Not today. Finishing fourth overall in the race, I milled around the refreshment area with the top three finishers who, along with two Rotary Club members that weren't really close enough to be involved in any conversation, made up the finish line area for about 6-10 minutes (roughly the time others started to trickle in). While the three 'friends' chatted I attempted to ingratiate myself into the conversation. First by telling each "good race". A "cold" congratulatory handshake was my first indication that I wasn't accepted in this threesome. Then, when I overheard two of them talking about the 3rd place guy running a marathon in six weeks, I thought, "me too" and decided to ask him "where is your marathon?" A simple answer of "Columbus" followed by my reply of "oh, I'll be running Chicago the same day". Then nothing. Not an acknowledgement. Not an "oh, I've always wanted to run that one" or "I did that one two years ago". Nothing.

Feeling as if I was involving myself in a conversation I wasn't accepted into I asked the overall winner, who was sitting on the same bench as me, "what was your winning time?", curious as to where my time rated. A somewhat disgusted, "ehh, like 1:32 something like that" and then he turned to tell the other two gents "I wanted to run a 1:29. Then the three of them began speaking again.

Feeling as though I was somehow "subpar" or not worthy to be in the company of these three running gods I decided, 'to hell with you' and grabbed two pieces of watermelon and walked back to my car. Disappointed in the running community. I guess once in six years isn't so bad.

One Very Long Weekend

Decided to do all of the outstanding work I've been putting off all summer long this weekend. Sandwiched around back to back races yesterday and today.

For the third time since I started doing races, I ran a race on back to back days. I hadn't done it in over two years but this weekend I pulled off the double. Ran the Somerset Cross Country 5k (on their actual cross country course) which was very tough. Then did the Run for the Trail 7k this evening in 84 degree heat and humidity.

In and of itself that's not all that bad, but considering that I came home Friday from work, cut my grass and cleaned out my garage, then prepared my driveway for sealing.

Woke up yesterday morning, ran that race and then came home to begin staining the deck. Then midway I sealed my driveway. All told, I worked over 8 hours yesterday and then got up this morning for about 2 more hours of staining.

Got all the work done and ran two 'fairly' successful races, all things considered. Yesterday's 5k time was 20:48 on a very tough track and despite losing almost a minute and a half off of lastyear's time in the trail 7k, dropping from 27:48 to tonight's 29:15, I blame it on the hectic schedule and the heat and humidity (84 degrees at race time). That, and I had nobody pushing me from behind. I ran fairly hard and took 2nd in my age group. Pretty successful but long weekend.

Climbing the Horrible Mountain

Heat. Humidity. Two enemies of the runner. Today I awoke to only one of them and unfortunately it was the worse of the pair; humidity. Today was the day I needed to run 16 miles. After doing a 5k yesterday (19:46), and finishing with my second fastest 5k time of all time, it was as if the planets aligned in the wrong order for me today.

Couple that with awaking at 2:00 a.m. with vicious stomach pain and today was not fun. A little Pepto-Bismol put my stomach issues at bay temporarily last night, but made for horrible sleeping. When the alarm went off at 7:00 a.m. I struggled to the basement, tried to hydrate as much as I could and was off. Within the first mile I could feel the weight of the humidity that would haunt me for a couple of hours.

The first 8 miles went by fairly decent, but when I looped back by the house for a drink and stopped briefly to ingest some Gatorade and water, the first few steps into the second half gave me every indication that it would be a second half struggle. My stomach felt "pukey" again and I took about 1/2 bottle of warm water with me that was gone by the time I hit mile 9 1/2. Eight laps around the track and approaching mile 12 on Luzerne Street I knew I would struggle over the final four awful miles. I equated it to the feelings I had over the final 4 miles in Cincinnati, or the final 11 miles in Frederick. Awful.

But when all was said and done, a cold shower and some water and a small meal and I felt better. But now my stomach continues to give me issues. Price to pay for it I guess.

Still, I've taken the next step to getting back to the mountain top. Today gives me one real strong thought. Please let it be low humidity nine weeks from today in Chicago. Low temperatures would be a bonus, but I'll take the low humidity. If it's anything close to today, forget Boston. It will be another exercise in survival and simply getting it done. Like today.

Ten-4-teen

Fourteen miles. That's what I did today. In the heat and at a very productive pace of 8:14/mile. Right in the wheelhouse of where I need to be running my long slow weekly runs. The fact that I felt pretty good afterward; enough so that I was not only able to cut my grass but also wash and clean my car inside and out was very telling for me.

As I came down the homestretch of my final mile today, and passed what would have been the half-marathon distance I became very emotional. I knew that I had just passed into my longest run in nearly ten months. Ten months. It was the furthest I had run since completing the Johnstown Marathon. It made me aware that I'm on pace. I'm in the park. I'm zoned in for what I hope will be a most memorable event in just over two months.

I was able to visualize over the final half-mile what it might be like coming home for the finish and I couldn't help but visualize having plenty of time to spare for a Boston qualifying run. It felt good. I crossed another barrier in my bid to comeback to where I was in 2007. I am happy how I felt today, but realize that I've got a very tough two months ahead. I am ready for that challenge and feel that I am not only running smart, but efficiently. At least that's the way it felt today. I focused on maintaining an efficient stride and getting in a productive run. Despite running at nearly 35 seconds slower than my goal marathon pace, it is very difficult to do. Holding back for the sake of efficiency and with an eye on a greater good yet to come.

Another barrier hurdled today. Today was a good day.

Still Here and Still Runnin'

I didn't go back and look to confirm this, but since I started this blog over two years ago I believe this is the longest I've gone without a post. Summer is definitely a time when I do slack a bit on putting updates on here. I'm not sure why that is, but possibly because there is so much more outdoor activity available and I find that I'm not in front of the computer as much. Who knows for sure?

For those that follow along with this blog (and I have no idea how many regular readers I have), I probably should do better. I will.

For the most up to date of updates, today I did a 12-miler. Besides the "jogged" half-marathon in Pittsburgh today was another banner day for me. It's getting over one more hurdle. My feet and legs are sore from time to time and I still deal with some minor pain but nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to be concerned with at the moment. In fact, my racing has been going very well and my training overall has been going well. I decided to give up alcohol upon returning from the beach (5 weeks ago today), until the marathon. I am happy to report that despite playing in some golf outings, going to several graduation parties and last night going to a wedding, I have kept my hands off of the stuff. I am feeling stronger running. Correlation? Not sure, but mentally it's helping me. I cannot wait, however, for a beer after the Chicago Marathon. I might not even make it back to the hotel before downing one.

I've got several races planned in the coming weeks and next weekend I go out for a 14-miler. I'm ahead of schedule from where I thought I would be, and that's a big plus.

Thanks for reading...

Getting My 30 Seconds...

At the end of July it would have been twelve years since I last saw the Stanley Cup in person. But I never made it to that twelve year anniversary. The Cup came to my neighborhood tonight. Pittsburgh Penguins Equipment Manager Dana Heinze got his day with the Cup and decided to share it with the neighborhood. As a runner, my "hood" is typically larger than most people think. Still, the Heinze's live about 1 1/4 miles away and when I heard that the Cup was that close I couldn't resist. So I drove up the street after I finished installing my exterior lighting and was lucky enough to have someone snap the shot you see here. In 1997 I went to Toronto a few months before I married Becky on sort of a "honeymoon" before the wedding. In reality, we went to London, Ontario for a hockey camp and on the way home decided to detour to Toronto. It was well worth the trip to be able to visit the Hockey Hall of Fame and to get our picture taken with the Stanley Cup. This time, however, it just felt different. Being that close to home with an employee of the team I live and die for and the fact that they won it less than a month ago made this experience all the more worth it. In a way, it kind of puts closure on the season for me. I had been in a state of withdrawal since the season ended on June 12, but now I feel complete. Team employees, players and executives each get a day with the Cup. As a die-hard fan, I got my 30 seconds with the Cup. I am thankful to Dana for sharing it with the neighborhood, just as he did several years ago when he won a Cup with the Tampa Bay Lightning. I didn't get to see it then. I really wasn't sure I wanted to see it then. But this time it was a no-brainer. The chalice that travels the world was literally right in my backyard. What a season and what a feeling. My only regret? When I went up there, I had every intention of kissing the holy grail. But because I was only able to get one shot and the line moving along so quickly, I forgot. Oh, well. There's always next year...

Happy Birthday America; Farewell Hollidaysburg YMCA

I wasn't sure I wanted to muddy the Independence Day celebration with a complaint about a local race organizer, but since both took place today I figured, why not?

First, lest we forget the sacrifice of many Americans in the fight for our independence as a country. For over 200 years we have since become the greatest nation in the world. Faults? Sure. Issues? Sure. But We The People will stand the test of time. A solemn remembrance, a hearty thank you and another birthday for the grand ol' gal, America. Happy Birthday.

Now onto number two. I ran the Hollidaysburg YMCA race (15k) again today for the third consecutive year and with each passing year it seems as though the organization suffers more and more. You may recall last year I posted about this race complete with pictures of the race shirt, award and bib. Well, today I cannot do that. Despite a 1:07:00 finish time (fairly impressive by normal standards), I walked away after paying $21 (a high race fee if you ask me) for nothing more than the privilege of running the streets of Altoona. I was finally able to secure a race bib afterward to put among my collection but no t-shirt and despite my time I only placed 5th in my age group. Still, to run out of water is inexcusable. To not have a packet together for someone who "pre-registered" is inexcusable. Either way, my days of running the Hollidaysburg YMCA 15k on the 4th of July have come to an end. I still don't know why I ever stopped running the Rolling Rock 5-mile run in Latrobe over the 4th of July weekend. It seems as though that's where I'm heading back to next year. Farewell Hollidaysburg Y. You've joined the ranks of the Johnstown YMCA in my heart.

Ocean City to Sacramento and Back

Yesterday morning I hit another milestone. One that I expected to hit over six months ago, but thanks to my little hiccup with a broken foot it took a lot longer than expected. This time it was hitting my 6,000th mile running (since I started running for the sake of running back in 2003). It was a quiet milestone that I forgot I was hitting until I came home and went to log it into my log. I actually got this one about 1/4 of a mile into the run so I was basically just warming up.

Having just gotten back from my summer vacation in Ocean City, Md. it reminded me of a sign as you are leaving Ocean City on Route 50. I don't remember seeing it last year or this year, but there used to be a sign that read, Sacramento, CA 3,073. If that mileage is accurate I could have trekked from Ocean City to Sacramento and "almost" back by going over mile number 6,000.

Tomorrow: More steps toward 7,000....

D-E-E-N-A

Today I received an update from the Chicago Marathon organizers with very good news. Deena Kastor, an American running icon and women's record holder, will be making her return to marathon running at the 2009 Chicago Marathon. Why is this a big deal to me? Several reasons. I recall watching the women's marathon during the 2004 Summer Olympics in Athens and it was that day that I became a huge fan of Deena Kastor. She worked her way up through a very tough field in 90 degree heat and finished in 3rd place capturing the bronze medal.

She then went on to win the Chicago Marathon the following year, setting a women's marathon record. I have followed her running since then and occasionally check into her blog site to see what is up with her. I decided to send her an email after watching the movie Spirit of the Marathon. She is one of the runners in the movie that directors followed and profiled as they prepared for the 2005 Chicago Marathon. Amazingly, Deena responded to my email and then again several months later after I emailed her again.

When I was injured last winter, I sent her another email as we both shared the pain and suffering of not being able to run (she broke a bone in her foot and was unable to finish the Olympic Marathon in Beijing last year). I connected with her on that level and when she responded to me with words of encouragement I realized that runners are unlike any other athlete. For those that don't know (if you're not into running, you probably don't), she is a running icon in American women's marathoning. For her to respond is like having Alex Rodriquez or Albert Pujols respond to an email. To me that was amazing.

Knowing that she will be in Chicago and I may have a chance to meet her and shake her hand and let her know how much she helped me get through a mentally tough period will be priceless. It is another reason to motivate me as well this summer as my Chicago training is now underway.

What a Beautiful Day for a Run...Let's Do Two!

It had been since September of 2008 until today. Today was the day I decided to go for a run for the second day in a row. Most impressive was that yesterday I did 6 miles in the afternoon and then turned around with 4 today in the late morning. That's 10 miles in less than 24 hours and two consecutive days. People do it all the time, but for me today was a major milestone in my comeback from a broken navicular bone. It's almost as if the stars are aligning since my official Chicago Marathon training begins next Monday. I felt that I needed to be doing at least 8 mile long runs by the time that training started and although I have only done 6, I feel as though I could easily do 10 right now. As a result, my confidence grows and I am on track. Pain is always right around the next corner, but for now I have put it behind me and am feeling fairly healthy as I get ready for the next 17 weeks of training that I hope culminates in a Boston qualifier. Hey, I'll take finishing, but as I continue to find out in life and sports in general, never say never and never put anything out of reach. Anything is possible if you work hard and that's what I intend to do.

10/25/08 A Great Day

The last "great" running day I had was on October 25, 2008. It was the day of my 11th wedding anniversary. I awoke and decided to run the Red Cross Vampire 5k. Even though it rained torrentially at times I still went out and had a great run. Now "great" is a relative term. Sometimes you feel great, but you can feel worse than other days when you wouldn't have said you feel great. My point being that like most of the English language we describe things in ways that can usually make no sense.

Not today. Today was what I would deem my first "great" running day since October 25, 2008. Seven months and one week to the day (put together you've got 71 so I expect Evgeni Malkin to have a GREAT night tonight drawing the Penguins even with the Red Wings in the Stanley Cup Finals).

I went out with the intentions of going nice and easy and continuing to build a base that I can draw upon in a few weeks when Chicago training begins. By the time I finished I hit the stopwatch and continued to walk down the alley behind my house. I immediately said, "I feel great". No pain in any part of my body for the first time in awhile and I went fairly hard for a Sunday long run of 5 miles (37:37).

I may have another setback. In fact, I expect one at some point. But for today I can say that I feel great. It really gives you the perspective and the necessary mindset to not take any day for granted.

Let's hope today is also a Great Day for Hockey in the city of Pittsburgh.

Finding My Way

Hope I'm not jinxing myself again but it seems that I've been able to settle into a tiny bit of a rhythm the past few weeks after getting going a bit prior to the Pittsburgh Half. After taking four days off to recover from the aforementioned half, I've been able to settle in and up my daily mileage to four miles. Seems like small potatoes in the larger picture, but in looking back I am absolutely ecstatic.

No racing until the Daily American 10k on June 13 so for the next three weeks I will continue to try and settle into that elusive rhythm. My body is not 100% but it's as close as it's been in seven months.

Kids

And so here I sit, typing away on my blog wondering what happened in my neighborhood. When we moved in ten years ago this July I recall a comment I made to my wife; "this neighborhood needs more kids". In probably one of the worst examples of "be careful what you wish for", we're now overflowing with plenty of youth. And I can't be more unhappy about it.

Make no mistake, I am not much of a kid guy. I think it had something to do with the way I was brought up, although I cannot be 100% certain. Let's just say that I don't particularly want kids of my own and leave it at that. Don't get me wrong. I don't mind kids, most of the time. I've dealt with kids my whole life. As a football coach, an ice hockey official, and umpire and a teacher I am fairly comfortable in dealing with kids. But perhaps it's those experiences that have given me insight into why I wouldn't choose to have my own.

With the weather turning nicer, our neighborhood has turned into an all-out playground screamfest. The high pitched shrilly screaming that sounds like blood-curdling murder is happening. And we're not talking about "every so often". This weekend it's been constant for like 9 or 10 hours. It has made living here difficult to say the least.

But it also got me thinking; again. What is wrong with kids (in general)? I truly believe it has a lot to do with the parents and/or adults that interact with these kids. And just in case you're a parent, I am speaking in general terms here. There are definitely good parents, good kids and good families. I'm not even saying that these local kids are 'bad' kids. All I'm saying is that if we screamed and yelled and hollered ALL DAY LONG like that when we were kids; well, it wouldn't have happened. Our dad, if not our neighbors first would have put a stop to it after a little while. But nowadays you deal with it because it's not your place to yell at your neighbors kids. And from what I can tell, you don't yell at your own kids. You let them do what they want to do for as long as they want to do it. And that, my friends is the symptom of the greater problem with what I believe is a societal issue. What's all this have to do with running? Absolutely nothing. It's just one of my rare rants on here.

Let me go back to half-marathon weekend two weeks ago in Pittsburgh. Saturday evening we're sitting at PNC Park enjoying a Pirates game. A foul ball is hit back behind the visitors dugout and a fan makes a beautiful catch to the point where he receives a round of applause. Some guy who is sitting about 15 rows in front of him and in the next section over goes up the steps a way and yells to the guy, pointing at a kid who was sitting with him. Now, even though I was sitting too far away to hear what was being said the message was clear. "How about tossing that ball down here for the kid?" The guy who made the outstanding catch flipped the ball to the other guy who then gave it to the kid and he received another round of applause. My point? When I was a kid, it was every man and child for themselves. No adult within 15 feet of me ever caught a foul ball and said, "here you go". Generally speaking I wouldn't have had much of an issue if the kid was sitting within a few feet of this guy, but a section over and that many rows away? What was the message given to that kid? Personally, I think it was, "here you go...people will give you things for no reason at all". It's a symptom. And around here I'm in the midst of an epidemic. Gonna be a long summer....

The Event

With the passing of the Pittsburgh "Half" Marathon for me, I have had a week to reflect back on not only that event, but the past 6+ years. And after thinking about all that I've done thus far with my running I have realized something. Running and all things associated with it are things that I crave. The better health, the ability to control my weight, the overall general good feeling that it brings. But it also brings with it collateral damage from time to time. And althought those times bring struggles with it, I still cannot help but feel that it is well worth it. Nowhere is that more evident than at a large race. I hadn't been to a "large" race since I ran the Philadelphia Marathon in November of 2007. I've done some "larger" races, but there truly is nothing like the big city events. Going into the expo and seeing all of the people who have this commonality among them. There really is nothing like it. Seeing thousands of runners converging on one place for an annual event brings out all of those feelings felt throughout the year as to why you do this. It's an air, a feeling that I have a hard time describing. The race is the event, but all of the outlying associated events are what makes it special. It's a 2-3 day event that celebrates the city in which the race is held. I felt that feeling last weekend in Pittsburgh again. The same feeling that I've felt getting ready to run 26.2 miles is the same feeling that had me toeing the line last week with disappointment and feelings of sadness. My nightmare issue(s) continued that began over 6 months ago. I re-lived the feelings of hopelessness and an inability to do something I love to do. But to be at the event once again and fight my way through the half is rewarding in its own way and gave me the motivation I need to press forward. In five months I will hopefully toe the starting line once again. But it's the few days leading up to it and the feeling you get afterward that I crave so badly. It is what carries me through these troubled times. An eye on the prize, so to speak. A vision of a greater day that lies ahead in the not too distant future. Hope. It is alive and well. I only hope that my body follows along soon. I'm sure it will, but it's been a long road back and the twists and turns continue. Fortunately, I've got an event to look forward to that will help carry me through the tough times this summer.

Stupidity Has A Name

And his name is me. Despite all the common sense in the world telling me not to even attempt a half-marathon today (I had only run the 5k distance in the past six months and only 40 miles since January 1), I decided to head out onto the streets of Pittsburgh to prove......who really knows? My knee issues had subsided for the most part after getting treatment for a week or so, but Friday afternoon issues with my broken foot came out of nowhere. It was the stabbing shooting pain that comes when twisting or turning a certain way. Not constant, but enough that common sense should have taken over. But like always, it didn't.

Survival is how I describe today. I went into this half with the same thought process and intention that I had in my first marathon in Cleveland back in 2006. Just get through it. Run it and know that I can still do it. Risky? You bet. But I had help. We met up with a high school friend at the spaghetti dinner on Saturday night and his wife Kris was doing the full marathon. Her intended pace was going to be around 9:30. Almost a full 2:00 slower than my normal marathon pace, but I decided that perhaps we could help each other out. I offered to pace her for nearly a half and so that's what we did. I met up with her and two of her friends and I was their pacer and distraction.

I decided that if I could get through 10 miles, I would "run", no "race" the final 5k. It worked like a charm. We paced out to about an hour and 36 minutes (just slightly slower than their 9:30 intentions) for just over 10 miles. It was there that I said good bye, good luck and I was off to make up some time. Despite some discomfort in my foot and knee(s) I wanted to break 2:00. I got close, and made up enough time to cross in 2:01:35. The crazy thing about that time is that it is just a few seconds slower than half of my time from Cleveland (4:02:02). I suppose mission accomplished, but if stupidity had a name today, it would have shared it with me.
















Finish line is across the river in front of the convention center. The Pens playoff beard is in full swing.

Amazing Business

Despite all common sense telling me to do otherwise, I awoke this morning and decided to go run a 5k. The Wings of Hope 5k race was taking place about 2 1/2 miles from my house. Since road races that close don't come up that often and because the weather was nice and because I figured the course would be flat, and because I ran 3 miles in training on Thursday morning I figured I'd ignore common sense.

I planned on holding myself back so I didn't aggravate an "achy" knee (hey, achy is a step up). But lo and behold there I sat amongst a group of four runners near the 1-mile mark. I even led for a few seconds. By the time we hit the turnaround I was still sitting in 3rd place. How could I not push it?

In the final mile, my lack of training caught up with me and I became winded and slowed. I was passed but finished as strong as I could coming in 4th place overall. Amazing as it was to me approaching the finish line I saw that I was going to PR (personal record) for the second time in less than a year at the 5k distance. This, after going 4 years trying to beat my previous best.

I wonder if the course was short since I shattered my previous best by a whopping 0:19. I wonder if all the rest I've had helped keep me strong enough throughout to make it possible. I won't question it. I've added it to the wall of PR's on this site and my log book. I am happy. Seeing where I came from just 2 months ago I have no choice but to celebrate it.

19:30 finish time! Today, I'm in the amazing business.

Good 'Ol ART

Finally decided to go see my chiropractor tonight for some ART Therapy (Active Release Therapy). He has never NOT been able to fix any ailment I've gone to him with. I am encouraged because he feels that my knee issues can be taken care of quickly and that it's most likely from my favoring my foot (go figure).

So tomorrow morning I am back at it. I ran Sunday, but it was the only day I've run in the past two weeks after going several weeks without missing a day. I'm still pretty sure I shouldn't do the half-marathon next Sunday, but I haven't decided yet.

My entire focus right now needs to be on getting ready for Chicago and that's how I'm proceeding. I'm also nearing a decision on whether or not to return to officiating in the fall, but I'm holding off for a little while yet before making it an official (oh, yea, pun intended) decision. I want to make sure I'm not reacting.

For now, the return to normal continues. I can't help but think that the last time I truly felt good was in October. But tomorrow is another day and another opportunity for me to work my way back. The long and winding road.....

Age? Background?

I haven't decided yet if I like this new background or not. I do like changing things up, but I have to give it a little more time to decide if this is the background I'm choosing for the next several months. Any readers' thoughts are greatly appreciated.

In November I'll turn 39. In the last year or so I have had a number of people tell me that I'm not getting younger (or some variation of that). And so lately as I continue to struggle with my bum knee and trying to get back to some kind of rhythm I wonder at what point can you truly say that you are getting older? I suppose some of the other things that people say can be equally true. Things like, "you're only as old as you feel" and "age is just a number", but now more than ever I wonder if 40 is that magic number that so many have told me about. Even though I'm still a year and a half away I am going through some changes that I know have affected my ability to overcome injuries (even slight ones) quickly; like I used to.

I still look back and know that my foot break was a very serious issue and I'm now dealing with the "comeback" issues that I knew would come along with it. My knee has reached a new level of frustration as I have yet to try and get back to some light running. I thought that day might be tomorrow. I'm tempted to do it today. With 15 days until the Pittsburgh Half-Marathon I'm realizing that I probably should take the high road and back out altogether. Will I? Stay tuned...

Opening Day

As has been our tradition for the past nine years, Becky and I went to PNC Park today for the Pirates home opener. As I continue to recover from runner's knee I've taken to walking on the lighter surface of the treadmill and this morning was no different.

As we walked across the Clemente Bridge today and saw the banner draped over the bridge with the Pittsburgh Marathon on it, I questioned how stupid it will be for me to attempt to run a half-marathon in just under three weeks. I know I shouldn't, but something tells me that I can hold myself back from running it competitively and simply move myself over the 13.1 miles at an easy and relaxing pace. I question deep within whether or not I can do that. I always have the best of intentions, but my competitive fires burn very hot.

Part of me feels like the best thing to do would be to simply back out altogether. But part of me wants to experience Pittsburgh so badly. I waited for years for the marathon to come back. It kills me that I can't do the full marathon this year, and I at least want to do the half. Having only run just over 24 miles this year so far, the wise thing to do would be to back out. I have no idea when I might try running again; although this Thursday is my plan. The knee is feeling better but there is still some pain in there going down steps. I can squat a little further which is a good gauge. My issue is time. But then again....I'm a runner. Time is always an issue for me.

Surprised? No.

After struggling through what might have been the longest winter of my life waiting for a broken foot to heal, I was waiting for the time when I could get back to "normal" activity. For me, that meant getting back on the ice to officiate hockey and back on the roads running.

Slowly but surely nature took its course. My foot improved enough for me to begin skating on the final day of January and over the next two months I was able to gradually put the pain behind me and build up to running again. Slow and short at first, but then back outside in the elements and faster and longer.

But like the rest of this dark period that has now stretched on into a sixth month, it has become anything but easy. I suppose I should have expected it. A case of runner's knee has left me waiting once again for the healing to take place. This won't take months for sure, but the fact that my foot is 100% and I was beginning to get back into a nice rhythm has me frustrated once again. Only this time, using the stationary bike is not an option. So I wait; again. Am I surprised? No. Not at all. I can only hope that a week of rest will knock it out and I can finally get myself on a path of building instead of recovering. I've had enough of the latter to last me a lifetime.

Words I Used at Work This Week

In no particular order and with no particular attachments (to protect the innocent)....

Hilarious, ridiculous, dumb, stupid, funny, vindictive, nice, terminated, unbelievable, snobby, nasty, tired, flabbergasted, primed, fortunate, laughable, fatigued, dumbfounded, frank, forward, staple, paper, email, virus, sick day, pencil, tissue, crying, flippant, snoring, stylish, strict, retirement, stinks, prank, salary, files, call, voicemail, cellphone, protection, stock market, employee, people, painted, rent, check, car, radio, coffee, water, filter, desk, chair, meeting, forum, time, tripped, hurt, flat, tank, rug, back, arm, safety, mug, past, future, present, ignorant, vegetable, blood, cranky, lunch, dinner, class, harassment, innuendo, party, political, judgment, courthouse, parking space, health, wellness, television, speak, talk, quickly, life.

I'm sure there were 1,000's more I used at one point or another but this is all I can remember. What a week.

Better Than I Could Have Imagined

Today was a day that I questioned was even possible just a few weeks ago. Today I ran a 5k race (Pennsylvania Highlands Community College Sprint to Success) for the first time since October 25. It was the first time since November 5 that I ran a distance that long. It was the first time I've run longer than 2 miles since returning to running in January. I knew when I departed the house this morning that it might not have been the smartest idea, and yet I went anyway.

I went with intentions of "going slow" and taking it easy. The last thing I want to do is injure myself or take a step backward. But shortly after the starting gun I headed out on the course and felt good. Since it was a loop course I had several opportunities to drop out if I decided to.

As I got closer to the halfway mark and then into the second half of the race I knew I was feeling pretty good. I had very few issues with my wind and despite some rubbery feeling in my legs I pushed on. When it became clear that I would have a good time I was feeling good about my decision to run today.

Crossing the finish line in 21:44 was better than I could have imagined. I expect to deal with some possible pain and discomfort come tomorrow or Monday, but I think I've cleared one of my hurdles on this long road to recovery. Still, there is work to do, but for today I will enjoy this.

Holy Shit!

First day of running outdoors "for real" since my stupid attempt to do so on January 1. Despite my sense that by writing about my recovery and attempts at running is also somehow connected to my backslides (because I'm superstitious), I decided to write about today since it's ridiculous to think the two are connected.

Truth be told I've been running for three weeks. I started by doing 1/4 miles the first week, then 1/2 miles for the second week. I did 3/4 mile earlier this week and then upped to 1 mile on Thursday. Today was not only the second 1-miler this week, but it was also my first time outside in nearly two months.

What a shocker! Unlike the security and sponginess of the treadmill; not to mention the flatness, outdoors has changed so much. I realized that the cement is quite a bit different. I realized just how hilly my training grounds really are. It was a simple half-mile out and back, but it was probably my most challenging run since my most memorable race last October 25, 2008. It was the last day I really truly ran pain-free and without trepidation. I wouldn't call today being totally back. Despite my growing confidence I realized that my legs and my wind are both far from getting back.

In reality and truth, my mountain is just beginning. After five months, I am still standing at the base of a very steep mountain with lots of work to do. I must be careful and calculated, but I also know that the road will be long, tough and mentally tougher than the first time I took this path. Really? Yes. This time I know what to expect. Last time it was all new to me. Perhaps it is insanity to go through with this knowing what is expected, but then again I've been here before. It was the second time I toed the line at a marathon in Baltimore. I'm feeling up for the challenge and know it won't be easy. I've forked off into the known and after going through this past winter, I'm excited to take on this challenge. I expect to face some difficulties, but that's all part of this insanity.

So what's with the title of this post? Sometimes I struggle with what to titles posts. Other times it comes easy. This one was easy. I repeated it about a thousand times during today's 8 or 9 minute mile. Let the game begin.

A Post For Posting

Not much to report at this point. Foot is still in improvement mode, and although I'm getting more active and used to being on my feet all day, I'm clearly still not 100%.

Running? Yes, a little. More like light jogging and not for much in terms of mileage. I feel as close as I've been in a long time. It's been a horrible winter and as the weather is improving, my spirits, my foot and my hope for the near future improves with it.

The Age Old Question

It's not another post about "whoa is me, and look at me, I still can't run". It's not a question really that I intend to answer. It's a question that has been asked and has been around longer than I've been around. Probably been around a lot longer than anybody reading this post. It's the question of life. What does it mean? What is the secret? Or any other variation of why we are here and what our purpose is.

Now I don't claim to have any answers, but I think often about this subject and there are times that I feel like I can really go deep into my consciousness and pose possible answers. But any answers I come up with are simply my answers. It's hard enough to worry about oneself without worrying about answering life's questions for anybody else. My outlet is writing; among other things. When I write and post on this blog I generally don't give it much thought. It's usually the topic of the day. The subject matter comes at me for wierd reasons. Sometimes the topics fly into my head. Other times the topics are hard to find.

So what is the secret to life? Well, the world according to me is about doing that which makes you happy. It's about doing the right things. It's enjoying moments and soaking in what it is that you are doing. I've written in the past about passion, but I also believe that life is being passionate about what it is that you are doing. When you lose the inner fire for what it is that you're doing or are involved in, then I believe you should consider not doing that thing anymore.

Today I refereed a couple of peewee games. Certainly not the highest level or fastest skating games I've worked among the over 1,500 games I've worked in the 13+ years I've skated. But working those games today reminded me how much I love doing it. For no particular reason. Just one of those days in which I "felt" how much I enjoyed being a part of the game. That's why it's been so difficult to ride the wave of emotions I've felt in the past 4+ months. I feel as though I'm still very passionate about refereeing, but so many things make me believe that it may be time to let it go. Besides realizing how insane people can be, not to mention the stupidity that comes with it, I still feel a little humbled by my injury and realize how quickly that which one loves can be taken away. I've had nothing but positive feedback from people since I returned on January 31. I've been overwhelmed with how people from many different areas have either told me how glad they are to see me, or that they don't want to see me hang 'em up. I've obviously got some thinking to do. The season is winding down and I expect that I'll wrap up this very memorable season very soon, if not this coming Monday. I've gotten so close to getting back to running again and I don't want to lose it again. That's made me tentative on the ice. But today I didn't feel that way. I was just skating and working hard and doing my job. It's been a job I've loved for over a decade. I suppose it is possible to give up something you're still passionate about if there are other reasons.

Life can also be about making difficult decisions.

Three to Six Months

I followed up with a second doctor this past week. This time I went to an orthopedic physician. I wanted to know more about what might be going on with my foot. I found it odd that I can skate several hockey games and actually feel better, but when I walk long distances, attempt to run or spend long days on my feet I have residual issues.

What I found out was a catch-22. A CT scan confirmed what the MRI showed and that was that I have a bone that was previously broken that is healed and strengthening. What I also found out was just how serious breaking the navicular bone can be. It is a long process of healing that takes even longer to have all of the surrounding tissue and tendons get back to normal.

According to Doc #2, I have a long process ahead of me and when I pushed him to tell me how much longer it could be for me to get back to what I was doing before, he said it could be three to six more months. I was told to listen to my body. It wasn't great news, but it was news that I needed to hear.

Today I know I am not ready to begin training for a marathon yet, and have written off the Pittsburgh Marathon. My goal becomes getting prepared to run the Chicago Marathon in October. First, I will get through hockey season. That could be another week, two and maybe three at best. Once that has ended (in disappointing fashion due to my limitations), I will focus on getting some rehab for the ankle and foot and perhaps begin jogging a bit to test it out and try to get myself back to normal running. According to the timeline I heard yesterday I will be ecstatic if I can get in a normal training run sometime around the first week of May. And so, on and on it goes.

If I Had Known

If I had known that 111 days after running that 4-miler on my treadmill that I would only run (jog) a handful more times and the calendar would be making a serious push toward March 1, I wouldn't have believed it. Thinking back on what has happened since that evening on October 27, 2008 it is hard for me to believe a lot of it. The mind has a funny way of putting things into perspective and recalling certain things. I'm not a brain expert, but I do know that I recall some things very vividly and other things have found their way out of my psyche.

I remember the day I went to get my x-ray and how I could hardly walk. When I received the phone call that there were no breaks, I had a rush of relief and figured I'd be back to my old self in a couple weeks max.

When a couple more weeks went by and I saw very little improvement I got concerned. Had I not pushed for another appointment it could have gone on a lot longer than it has. When I saw my podiatrist and he said, "10% chance there is a break in there", the relief came back. When I got the results of my MRI and I was told, "you have a non-displaced navicular fracture", I was (oddly enough) relieved again. My pain had a name and a diagnosis.

When four weeks of my life seemed like an eternity I tried to stabilize my mind by getting into a new routine. The stationary bike became my friend and biggest adversary. At least I was doing something. I controlled what I could control. I bordered on madness with the thought of 'when?'

When I had my boot removed on December 22, I was relieved again. Could this be the final relief? Despite ongoing pain I was told that it was all good. Do what I could do. I could even skate. In my mind and especially in my foot, I knew that wasn't true, but at least I was walking again; if you could call it that.

When two more weeks went by and I had no noticeable improvement, I pushed my way back in for another MRI. The results came back a few days later and you guessed it. Relief. The bone was healing. Things were on track. As far as my podiatrist was concerned, "you're healed". Hip hip hooray. Total relief. But then a couple more weeks went by and I realized I wasn't totally healed. At least not to the point that I could return to my pre-injury activities. Pain was still there.

I scheduled an appointment for a second look. A second opinion if you want to call it that. I self-prescribed no running. I am healing. Am I totally healed? No. It's a self-diagnosis. Tomorrow I get another opinion. The past week or so, after skating for the third week in a row (skating actually makes it feel better), I feel relief. But do I really? No. History has taught me to be skeptical. Tomorrow, no matter what they tell me I'll be skeptical. I have learned that your health and most of your treatment and even to a degree your diagnosis is left up to you. It's taught me to be skeptical. I'm sure that I'll be relieved again tomorrow when I'm told that I am healing and that this is normal and that not running is a good idea and that I should wait a few more weeks, then try to do what I can tolerate.

A waste of $25 co-pay if you ask me. But I'm paying for another slither of relief I suppose. If you had told me in October that I'd still be screwing around with this on February 25, I wouldn't have believed you. I'd have bet just about anything on it. Still no running for now. Boy, if I had known...

Big Games

I've been involved in some big games before. As a player, a coach, a color analyst, an umpire and as a hockey official. Some of my most memorable include:

• 1981: East Conemaugh Little League. I played rightfield on an All-Star team loaded with talent. I was so disappointed and angry that I was relegated to rightfield and yet on a fateful Saturday afternoon I made several putouts and had a memorable assist in a 17-11 win over an all star team from Boswell. Coach Ron Reynolds honored me with the gameball afterward. I still have it today.
• 1988: I played linebacker in the Ken Lantzy All Star game at the "old" Point Stadium. I wasn't there to play an "exhibition" game and treated it like a real football game. I was rewarded for my 8 tackle performance and blocked extra point on special teams as one of the defensive MVP's.
• 1991: Playing strong safety for the St. Francis College football team at St. John Fisher University in upstate New York, we needed a win to secure the championship of the Atlantic Collegiate Football Conference. Thanks to a wonderful individual effort by my friend and wide receiver Dan Mathis, we took home a 14-7 win that afternoon and secured championship rings that remains one of my most prized possessions.
• 1999: Kind of a silly one here, but playing in the Adult League Championship game of the Somerset Adult Hockey League, I score a hat trick to help lead our team, Georg Trucking to a 4-1 win over Stoystown Auto Wreckers. Hey, it's a championship.
• 2004: I am honored by earning a spot as a linesman in the Bantam U14 Tier I National Championship game between Honeybaked and the California Wave.
• 2006: I line up at the starting line of the Cleveland Marathon embarking on my first. I didn't know if I could do it, but it remains one of the most memorable days of my life.
• 2008: I get to umpire homeplate of a AAABA matchup between perennial powers New Orleans and Baltimore. It is an honore to call balls and strikes for a guy drafted by the Red Sox and throwing 95 mph cheese.
• 2008: As a new color analyst for Johnstown High Football, I get to call the District 6AAA Championship game at Mansion Park. Despite a Trojan loss, it is a cool experience to toss on the resume.
• Toss in a few Penguin Cup championships at Mellon Arena (5 of them) and last year's State Championship hockey game and I've built a pretty nice officiating resume.

I bring this up today because last evening as I continue my "comeback" to running, I am still relegated to refereeing. I had to concentrate on where I was a month ago, two months ago and three months ago to fully appreciate the progress I have made. It made me realize how lucky I've been and how fortunate I was to be standing at center ice last night ready to drop the puck on a varsity hockey game. Having been back at reffing for three weeks, I had worked 10 games prior to this one; a regular season matchup between State College and Altoona. Not one of the biggest games of anyone's lifetime, but considering where I was, I had a few seconds while the teams were getting ready to hit the ice to realize where I was and what I was doing. It would be the fastest game I'd worked since early October, 2008. I have to admit I thought about the possiblity that it might be one of the final "big" games I'll officiate. I have no idea where I'll end up this year in terms of playoffs and not really sure I want to advance real far. My focus is on my running and getting back to it. But standing at center ice for those few seconds and pondering my future; both immediate and long term, I realized it might be one of those "moments". Probably not, but the possiblity froze me for those few ticks. It made me realize a lot of things, including where I was a long time ago, and where I was at that moment. Big game? Not really, but in some ways, they're all big.

Reluctant Acceptance

This is where I am. Reluctantly, I am accepting the fact that I am not a runner. At the moment. Due to ongoing issues with my broken foot, I have been slowly recovering, but not to the point where running is even an option. I have gradually come back to skating, but even long periods of skating hockey games causes me discomfort and small setbacks. With the Pittsburgh Marathon now just over ten weeks away I am reluctantly accepting that running in the full marathon is not going to be possible. I am hanging onto slim hopes that perhaps I may be able to do the half-marathon as sort of a consolation, but even that hope grows dimmer by the day.

I plan to stay off the roads, treadmill and other forms of running through at least the next month and take it one month at a time. I have found that when I don't run, my foot improves. Skating does damage, but not like running.

As I pondered for the millionth time why this happened, I have also reluctantly come to the conclusion that as an athlete and someone who puts himself in positions of relative danger (let's face it; even running poses risks), this has always been a possibility. Hockey is such a fast paced sport and only now do I fully understand the risks involved and how dangerous it can be even at the lowest levels. What this means for me moving forward I cannot say. What I know is that I have a healthier respect for it and have to be content with the fact that for 13 years, and over 1,400 games I went mostly unscathed. But for one fateful night in October, 2008 I was caught in the wrong position and now the battle is not to get back to marathoning. It's simply to get back to running. I have to concede that I can't put a timeline on this. The body heals in its own way and for now, that has to be enough.

The Me I Want To Be

As I continue to struggle with the worst injury of my life (that's no lie, and I suppose I should consider myself lucky), one thought has consistently come to mind. Actually I've had many thousands of thoughts, but one I keep thinking is that I didn't expect running to be the thing that defines or defined me. What I've learned is that despite what I want, there is no doubt that running has consumed me and the better part of my life over the past five years. When people saw me, they saw a runner. It's what I was. Just like when I was on t.v., they saw the television personality. When people see me at work, they see an HR Director; for whatever that is worth.

I want to believe that this is a temporary thing. I try to stay positive through the ups and downs. I have struggled with the fact that despite my efforts of not allowing it to define me, it has. Running has defined me. And without running, my definition of my being has been lost. It wouldn't be bad if the other thing that defines me; officiating, was not the reason that I've been unable to run. And that I've been unable to officiate.

As the struggle continues I have bordered on the insanity at times. Trying to figure it out. Trying to understand it. Trying to get through it and past it. I've had up times and down times. My mind has ranged the emotions. I've been angered. I've been saddened. I've been happy. I've been enthusiastic. I've been humbled. I've been confused. I've been giddy. I've been scared. I've been anticipating the ebbs and flows. I struggle in looking back. Every time I progress, I want more. Sometimes I can't have more. And the emotional roller-coaster makes a hard left turn. I sink into the abyss quickly and then rise up the other side. It's my life and yet it doesn't feel like me. I wonder if I'm dreaming. I know I'm not. I wonder alot. I wonder when I'll be able to return to normal and what that is. It won't be the normal I once knew and I'm prepared for that. But not knowing what normal will look like causes me to experience more of the fear of the unknown.

Truth of the moment. You're reading a running blog of someone who is currently not a runner. I am not a runner. And I don't know when and if I will ever be again. I want to believe I will. I'm having a hard time right now picturing it. I suppose I'm in a hole right now. On the downswing of this endless roller coaster ride. I love roller coasters. But I'm starting to grow tired of this one, and a little bit sick. Patience of Job? Not even close. I beg for more patience. It must be what now defines me, and for most, including me, that's hard to believe.

Another Week, More Frustration, Another Decision

I ran three days this past week. For a total of 1.75 miles. I also skated three more hockey games. And I also struggled with pain in my foot. The frustration that I am dealing with is beyond anything I have dealt with in a very long time. I am not sure what is in pain. Is it the tendons? Muscles? Or is it the bone?

All I know is that since January 12 (now going on a month later) I have been in charge of my treatment, my ongoing diagnosis and my own determination of what I should and should not do.

There are days when I feel as if I'm simply being impatient. There are days when I believe I'm getting better. There are days I wonder if I'll every run again. The waves of emotion and of feeling good and bad are unbelievable.

I find that when I don't do too much I see noticeable improvement in a matter of days. As a result, I've made a decision. I will not run until at least March 1. If it takes longer, it takes longer. I have committed to working a number of hockey games the remainder of the month and I will attempt to keep those and fulfill my commitments, but as far as high level games and working much past the first week or two of March I'm finished. I will give up games if I continue to struggle with my foot without running and will seek medical advice again.

One word keeps coming to mind. Unbelievable.

Back on the Ice

Truth be told, I've been on the ice for the better part of a couple of weeks. Only then did I have a shovel or broom or salt bucket in my hands. Not a whistle. But against my better judgment I decided that yesterday was the day to go back to officiating. As late as Friday morning I wasn't sure if it was a good idea (see previous post). But as the day wore on my foot felt a bit better. I decided that perhaps skating is what I need.

I stayed out of trouble and away from flying pucks. I was nervous and at times a little timid in the corners, but got through it unscathed. The foot did get a little sore during the game and this morning it is a bit sore again, but I have jumped one of the hurdles to recovery. I'm not totally back in action. That won't happen in my mind until I can get a normal training run in of 3 miles. I'm a bit closer to possibly attempting a run again, but I have no idea when. I suppose I'll know in my mind.

For now, I'll work a few games. My next one will be 1,500. A milestone that I thought I was eclipsing back in November. But 86 days went by before I could get in 1,499. Now that it's in the books I'm confident that game will happen Monday night. Despite a slew of available games, I'm going to be selective the rest of the season and have not considered myself back to form by any stretch.

If anything, yesterday gives me a tiny slither of hope that possibly the Pittsburgh Marathon or Half-Marathon is still within reach. Today is the opening of registration for Chicago. I think I'll hold off on that one for now, but my focus is on October and Chicago more than it is Pittsburgh right now. And for good reason.

What Really Grinds My Gears

I got the idea for this topic from a Family Guy episode. Peter did a regular spot on the evening news called, "What Really Grinds My Gears". It was a ranting spot and if you've seen it, is hilarious.

As I read today's Tribune-Democrat it got me thinking of something that grinds my gears. A few years ago when Pittsburgh hosted the MLB All Star Game my wife and I bought season tickets to the Pirates. It was a 2-year commitment that allowed us the 'opportunity' to purchase All Star Game tickets. That season, I paid close attention to the "local" coverage of the Pirates. Of course, the Tribune sent their Sports Editor Eric Knopsnyder to Opening Day and then he never went to another game that season as a reporter (I say that because 'maybe' he went as a fan; but I would doubt it) until; you guessed it...the All Star Game.

I wrote a letter to the editor that year and got a response from them saying that they don't publish letters that talked "about" or was "directed at" another individual. My letter referred to the Tribune's Sports Editor. I never named names. But the funny part is that if you read the Letters to the Editor, nearly 4 times a week letters about or toward other people are published. It makes me laugh.

Now, in this economic downturn, the Tribune-Democrat has once again outdone themselves and I can't say I'm surprised. Mr. Knopsnyder is in Tampa to cover the Super Bowl. It's hilarious that this podunk town has sent a live reporter to cover the game. With 24/7 media options available and with no less than two Pittsburgh papers (all of which have excellent websites) having representatives there, I see no reason why anyone would want to read the junk that is coming out of Tampa in the form of our very own reporter. Whoopie whoop. The same Tribune-Democrat that recently laid off employees is paying to send someone to the game. All season long, their coverage of all major sports teams relies heavily on AP stories.

The time for newspapers is running out. But in Johnstown, PA, that time is a lot closer than some think. Soon, only major metropolitan areas will have a full-time newspaper and the last I checked Johnstown doesn't qualify. And worse yet, they are their own worst enemy.

That's what grinds my gears.

The Return

To running? No. To pain. Even though I had a great week, I have returned to sporadic pain in and around the break area of my foot. Once again, the superstitious part of me wonders if I jinxed my rehab by writing about it here. Common sense will tell me that one has absolutely nothing to do with the other, but I can tell you from experience that the mental side of an injury or anything for that matter, is very powerful.

I have been able to walk but running is still not an option. Skating is probably not an option at the moment and I am really fearful about how much longer this is going to drag on. This past Wednesday was 9 weeks since my diagnosis. Has it improved? Yes. I can say that with 100% certainty. But the fact that I still have issues frustrates me like absolutely nothing else I have ever been frustrated by in my entire life.

Everything is questioned. Everything is an issue. I should be glad I'm moving around. I know I should be happy I'm not bound to a walking boot and fortunately not in "constant" pain. For now, I am limited and unable to do either of my favorite activities (running and skating). I am in dire need of the running and it is probably going to be the last thing that comes back. Even though I have run on 3 occasions since the new year started, none of those events was for very long and none gave me any sort of satisfaction. It wasn't the running I knew. Much like the start of this injury, I sit and wonder a lot. When will I get back to the way it was? Harder yet to wonder; will I get back to the way it was? Perhaps my return is imminent. A return to a doctor's office?

No Celebration Here; Well Maybe a Little

With the Pittsburgh Steelers winning yesterday and getting another trip to the Super Bowl one thing is for certain; there is no celebration in my house. Without going into great detail, the hatred that I hold deep in my sould for this franchise runs so deep I can barely determine whether I love my team more than I hate them. But I digress.

Today was a bit of a day of celebration, but I'm keeping my growing confidence in check. I am simply building up my strength and testing my foot out a little more each day. Today I walked two miles. Amazing to me that a 2-mile walk causes me such excitement. Contained excitement, but I do feel good about it. With each workout, I deal with a bit of pain and discomfort but nothing horrific. I have even secretly run a few times since my New Year's Day debacle. I have learned how to remain patient. My runs are done at or around the 10:00/mile pace (I'm used to 7:30-8:00 paces) and I have only run two more times since. Once I ran 1/4 of a mile and the next time I ran 1/2 mile. I will gradually build upon that as my foot allows me.

In regards to returning to the ice, I am also being patient. Perhaps too patient for my liking, but I have visions of working a few games throughout the month of February. Normally a time that I am preparing for a playoff run, I am not sure where I am this season. Perhaps I will not work the playoffs. Perhaps I will make a deep run into the playoffs. Who knows. What I am doing is literally taking it one step at a time. I have a greater good to be concerned about and have been very proud of myself for remaining patient and doing this correctly.

As for football season. I think I will make plans to do something else on Super Bowl Sunday. It eats at me like cancer to see all of the bandwagon fans surrounding me like flies on a carcass. Watching might be too much to bear. Go Cardinals.

The Long(est) Road to Recovery

Today is the ten week anniversary of my last official activity. I refereed a hockey game in Altoona that night. Over the past ten weeks I have learned quite a bit about what I am capable of mentally. It's ironic, but I thought that the toughest mental challenge I ever faced was running a marathon. Going through this injury has been far and away much tougher.

How I got through this and continue to get through it was and is simply changing my perspective. I've changed my routine. A new saying that I catch myself saying all the time at work is that "this is my reality". My reality for the past 10+ weeks, and actually longer than 13 weeks when you consider that I was very hobbled for three weeks, has been that I have not been able to skate or run.

I'm getting closer. I'm getting healthier. I'm getting stronger. Both mentally and physically. It's been a process, no doubt about that. I have learned to adapt to a situation I hadn't been faced with before. When I come out of this, I'll be better for having gone through it. I'll be as mentally tough as I've ever been, and that's saying something. I am ready for my next challenge. And right now, that challenge is getting to the end of this, the longest road to recovery.

The day I remove those counters to the left (days since I ran, days since I last officiated) is coming soon. When exactly? I cannot say for sure, but soon.

Something Old and New

Well, so much for the road to recovery. Once again I feel as though I've jinxed myself. Despite getting better, the foot continues to give me issues. I called the doctor on Monday and complained a little, which prompted another scheduled MRI, which took place on Thursday. Now I try to relax the weekend with my follow-up appointment scheduled for Monday. I'm beginning to think that perhaps a trip to Pittsburgh is in order for some real medical advice. I hate to be that way, but I'm just not sure what's going on and I feel a second opinion could be in order. I'll wait to hear what I'm going to hear Monday before deciding, but it looks like my near future includes more rest and time. Not what I want, but this thing has a mind all of its own.

I'm also facing a grim reality that perhaps hockey season should be over for me. I mean, what am I rushing back to? Screaming parents, coaches and kids who have no respect for authority? On the surface, this is an easy decision to make. Unfortunately for me, I still love the game and love being on the ice. I'm leaning toward bagging the rest of the season, but I'll wait and see what Monday provides me in terms of insight.

I'm also leaning toward not talking about this injury on this blog anymore. I'm a superstitious person and every time I've written that things seem to be going better, things take another turn. But then what do I write about? A running blog without running is like a cooking blog without food, a pet blog with no animals. Perhaps I can come up with random thoughts. Perhaps I can temporarily change this "running" blog into a "ranting" blog. I think I'd like to try something different, but I guess I need to figure out what that is. For now, I'm going silent. When there is anything to report, I'll report it. I'll return to running, but I sense it's not gonna be anytime soon. I'm beginning to think that the Pittsburgh Marathon is in serious jeaopardy. I mean, training should start on Tuesday. That ain't happenin'. The final last day I can start and be ready will be mid-February. I suppose there's a chance, but I'm not banking on it.

One Day and One Step at a Time

Although I'm walking and was dumb enough to run a little on Thursday, this weekend has given me the reminder that I've had a broken bone in possibly the worst place possible; especially for runners. I dealt with swelling and some residual pain in my foot after trying that little stunt on Thursday.

Walking is not what I would describe as 100% comfortable, but thinking back I am not limping as I was when I didn't know I had a broken bone. After long walks I still have some pain and today was no exception. I walked a mile and a half and have some discomfort over the break area. I continue to question the medical profession and with my next follow-up appointment now eight days away I wonder when and if this thing will ever allow me to run to the levels I've run before. It angers me, but I am happy that I am able to walk, able to get around and am confident that perhaps at some point I will be able to push my envelope once again.

Perhaps I have pushed it too far for the type of injury I have. Who knows. I've got questions, and far too few answers.

An Incredible Feet

Or what about one foot? Today is January 1 and begins 2009. Normally I don't have many plans for New Year's Day and this year was no different. I watch the Winter Classic and a little football and have the traditional hot dogs, saurkraut and kielbasa. Today I awoke to a big breakfast and a nice hot cup of coffee. Then I decided to take my 1-mile walk.

When I reached the 1/2 mile turnaround point, I felt so good I decided I might try a little light jogging. And for fear of sounding like Forrest Gump, that's what I did. I jogged to the normal 1-mile mark of my running course and turned back running back to the place where I started. Then I walked the 1/2 mile back home. It was only a mile, and it wasn't very fast but my foot passed a fairly important test today. Yes, it was a little bit sore but I ran with a normal gait and plan on continuing to work at it. The fact that it was unexpected makes it a glorious day for me and what I hope is the start of a great year ahead.