A Holiday Ultimatum

No, this post is not about running. My running is going along just fine. But over the past month and a half my focus has been placed on the run to the Stanley Cup Finals by my team, the Pittsburgh Penguins. A horrific display in game 1 on Saturday night has them in a must win situation for game 2 tonight. It truly is either going to be the start of the series or the end. A loss tonight will seal the Penguins fate even though there will be those who would say there are still five games left and it's not over. Please, no way the Pens beat the Red Wings 4 out of 5 if they lose tonight.

As for running, I continue to trudge toward my next marathon which is yet to be determined. I've got some ideas and plan on running a fall marathon for sure. But I'm in no rush to decide on this one. I run better in the fall and with gas prices climbing through the summer I will play wait and see. No sense in rushing to conclusions. I'll continue to train this summer with the intention of running a marathon in October or November and for now, that's enough.

Let's Go Pens.

Saying Goodbye

Saying goodbye is never an easy thing to do. Yes, I know that someone once wrote that as a song and no, I don't know who or even what the song is right now. The point I'm making is that tonight I can say that nothing has ever been more true. How do you say goodbye to a trusted friend, a loyal pet, the sweetest girl that was ever put on the face of the earth? Dare I say a member of the family? Yes, there are those who will read this and think that I'm one of those people, but I don't care. Truth is, saying goodbye in the way I had to tonight is something that I'll never ever forget and the scars that remain will stay for a long time. Part of my healing process is this tribute to the #2 in my life. Besides Becky, my wife of 10+ years, sweet Tera (a.k.a. Pantera) has been a constant for 7 1/2 years. When she began to limp on her front paw a little over a week ago we suspected perhaps a pulled muscle as she had done about two years ago. Then we thought perhaps arthritis. Greyhounds are prime candidates for it. But when I got a call over lunch today and Becky described to me that it was back (the limp) and much worse than we had seen before we were giving her some medication I didn't think much. I thought perhaps just a bad day. Besides, I was in the process of finishing a few work items that had been hanging over me for a few weeks. After work I had to go and pick up my new car (2005; but new to me). We did the paperwork, Becky left for home and I finished swapping out cars. Normally a banner day for me. But upon my arrival home I saw what I had feared. A dog who was in pain with no sign that this was something simple. Our dear friend Wendy who has been with us from the beginning came over and confirmed what I knew needed to happen. No, this was not a pulled muscle, it was not arthritis. It was something worse. She would never make it to her follow-up x-ray in two more weeks. The initial picture showed something in the structure of her elbow that was 50/50 arthritis, 50/50 cancer. I had to help her drag herself out our front door, down the sidewalk and into her van. I had to hold her up on the drive to the vets and then I had to hold her up and support her as the doc inserted the injection that would take her life. She died in my arms. I am so happy for the time we spent together and so sad for the time we will never have again. She is not coming back. The void that exists will pass. Of that I'm sure. But for now it is pain. Pain that makes marathon pain seem like a walk in the park. Everyone has a dog that is the best dog in the world. But tonight, that's my dog. And I hope she is frollicking somewhere with all of the other greyhounds and pets who have passed onto the rainbow bridge. Where there is no more pain. No more suffering, and where one day we will reunite and I can pat her head and make her smile like she always did for me. I will miss you Tera. More than you'll ever know. I hope we made your life worth living and I pray that your final moments did not hurt you like they did me. You are the best and know that you will never be forgotten. No way. Never.

Nothin' Like New Shoes

With Game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals taking place in Pittsburgh today, I'm hoping that the Pens can eliminate the Flyers so I can relax for a few days. It would be a great way to start off the new workweek.

On another "feel good" note, I broke out my new New Balance 846's that I purchased on Ebay this winter. I waited patiently and even though it rained hard this morning the sun came out and the wind was blowing heavy. I figured it would be alright. I don't like to get my new shoes dirty right away. And although there was some standing water and wet leaves it wasn't too bad. I decided after Frederick to go back exclusively to New Balance. If today's run is any indication, I think I made the right choice. This shoe might be the most comfortable shoe I've worn since...well, my last pair of New Balance.

Let's go Pens!!!

UPDATE: No problem. 6-0 Pens over the Flyers. Bring on Dallas or Detroit. An amazing run by the good guys.

That's Better

It wasn't a marathon, but today's Komen Race for the Cure (an excellent cause by the way) in Pittsburgh was a great way to get back into race mode and experience some success.

I truly didn't go out there to "race", but after a smart start in the first 3/4 miles I felt good enough to push it a bit. Despite being a very difficult course (as far as 5k's go), I found myself in a zone I hadn't been in during a race since Philadelphia. I wish I could bottle up how to get that feeling during a race for the future, but I rode it today.

After hitting a 6:56 and then 7:03 split (toughest part of the course), I finished off with a 6:16 3rd mile and then 0:25 for the final tenth of a mile. Crossing the line in 20:41 placed me 102nd overall out of 2,222 runners. In my age group I finished 7th of 109 runners. All in all a great day.

An Awful Bad Day

Pictured: the one thing salvaged from yesterday; my race medal

That certainly didn't go according to plan. The Frederick Marathon was supposed to be the pinnacle of my marathoning career to date. It was to be a celebration in the small town atmosphere of middle-a-Maryland. It wasn't. It wasn't in the worst possible way. I should be crushed right now. I'm not. My pride is damaged. My humility is at an all-time high. I learned lessons. Isn't that what it's about? If not, it should be. Once again I have no excuses. But I do have some reasons that I believe led to this 3:45:13 marathon time. Which brings me to my secondary minor point. It is amazing how perspective can change. When I ran my first marathon in Cleveland in 2006 I would have looked at this 3:45:13 as an amazing feat. In looking at it on my 5th marathon and using comparative figures from the four that preceded it, it is an utter disaster. But onto the lessons.

I didn't train hard enough. Plain and simple. I should have recognized what Philadelphia took out of me emotionally and physically. I rushed back and tried to wipe out the 0:04 disappointment from Philly.

I recalled after Cincinnati last year saying that I had a hard time training for a spring marathon surrounded by all those hockey games. I should have remembered that, but I was blinded by the fact that I was so close and wanted to badly to get my Boston qualifying time.

I chose the wrong race. I bantered back and forth between Frederick, Buffalo and even toyed with the idea of going back to Cleveland where I knew it was flat. I registered for Frederick because I was stubborn. I wanted to run a race I hadn't done before. I registered knowing that route changes were coming for Frederick. I got cocky knowing that I train on hills around here. How hilly could it be in Western Maryland? I'll answer that one. Pretty goddamn hilly. And at the wrong time. Beginning at mile 19 some awesome hills contributed to this day.

I also chose it because it was smaller than my normal race. What I failed to realize was that a smaller field would also cause the fans lining the route to also diminish. There is no substitute for the adrenaline and the motivation of having people lined up along the course. This race had it in spurts, but not near enough and not nearly at the right spots.

The uncertain became painfully certain. The great unknown going into any race that you register for months in advance is the weather. Although the temperatures were in the low 60's there was high humidity early on that made it feel a lot warmer than it was. When the sun came out (at around mile 7 for me) it was relentless. It never went away. And the course again haunted me providing very little shade. The winds did pick up and gave a cool breeze, but it was almost too windy. The trade off was a tie in my opinion.

Pollen. Early May in the heart of Maryland is not for someone with allergies to pollen. Although it wasn't all that bad, it wasn't good considering the other factors at play. Put them all together and you've got a not so good day for yours truly.

Still, things are not always as they may seem when you are able to put it into proper perspective. Here it is. I wasn't alone. The overall field was slow (probably due to conditions, but I'm guessing more to the course). Had I accomplished my goal time of 3:15 I would have placed 24th overall in the field of 929. As it was, I finished 171st of 929 runners; fairly respectable. In my age group (35-39) I finished 33rd of 106 runners (top third). Again, respectable. In looking at the race itself, I was on my Boston qualifying pace through 15 miles, with a torrid half-marathon time of 1:37:07. In comparison I crossed the half marathon mat in Philadelphia at 1:36:13.

As it stands it was a perfect storm of all the things that were wrong with running that race yesterday. I have to live with it, learn from it and move on from it. In the end what I realize is that this is simply part of the story. A story that is yet to be written and when it is, this will be one of the darker days along the journey.

What disappointed me most about yesterday was the fact that I couldn't see what I should have known. This was bound to happen.

Additional Raceday Photos:

Above: Prior to the start. Note the traffic in the background that we wisely avoided.

Below: Shortly after the finish with Tera (left) and Vee (right). Should have seen me trying to stand up from that squat after the photo. Also, note the playoff beard in full force. Let's Go Pens.

A Real Honor

Ask me why I run marathons and I'll give you two reasons. To qualify for the Boston Marathon and the medals. Pure and simple. And originally my answer was for the medals. The medal signifies months of work and a symbol of accomplishment. Ask anyone and they'll tell you that running 26.2 miles consecutively is not easy. The medal makes it all worthwhile for me.

I bring that up to bring this up. Perhaps the highest honor I've received in running to date has not been a medal. It hasn't been the satisfaction of completing a race. No, today I was bestowed with my highest honor to date. As a paying member of the Indiana (PA) Road Runner's Club for a few years I originally joined because I met some of the members at a local road race. I figured perhaps I'd enjoy going out to Indiana on occasion and participating in club runs. It never happened. But what I found was that the cost of membership (only $12 annually) was well worth the newsletters that include race results, stories from members and notification of upcoming races. I occasionally will trek out to Indiana for a race, but have yet to become fully active in terms of participating in club runs or club functions.

In March, the annual club banquet was held the same weekend I was in Indianapolis, IN refereeing hockey. I recall thinking that maybe I'd go to the banquet but my reffing plans stood in the way as usual. What I did not know until receiving the monthly newsletter today was that I was named the Most Improved Male Runner. I am truly honored. I have no idea how these things are voted on or who has a say but I feel as though my running has spoken volumes enough to be considered for such an honor.

When I shared this news with some coworkers today they asked me what the award was. I told them Most Improved Male Runner. But what they meant was what "physically" was the award. A certificate? A plaque? A medal? I had no answer. And despite my drive to win medals and focus on the physical aspect of running I truly didn't think of it that way. And unlike when I cross the finish line, like I will this Sunday I am not looking for the physical award. I know that I have been honored to be chosen and that truly is enough. I don't need to have a symbol. Perhaps I'm thinking of race medals in the wrong way too?

On second thought......I'll take that medal. And seriously, I wish to thank the Indiana Road Runners Club (even if none of them read this) for what I believe is a high honor for someone who only began running just 6 years ago at the ripe age (tongue in cheek of course) of 31. I am truly honored.