It's been so long. Epoch Riddle. Sup 23.
We ran the marathon + it did not go as planned = ego death. Experience somewhat tainted by indebtedness. NYC Half. Comrades Marathon. Chicago Marathon. I go to LA for the first time, then Florida, then San Jose/San Fran for the first time, then back to FL. Two months later, back in NYC. Introspection. Time to go home-home. Order is not created out of chaos. Can't do it alone. Living in the upside down. NYC renting laws are bogus.
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I was not the last man standing, as we planned. Marathon training for the third and final time, maybe? Taxes. Acting. No mind.
Yes, less than a week out, the NYC Marathon will be the one, and it could be divine Providence speaking; Release Recovery. Fundraising. Replacement addictions. Cunning, baffling, powerful always on the prowl. Generic life update- one year in NYC. It's not a restart if the goal is different right? Last man standing. Finally running after 90 days exactly. Short term relationships, long term friendships. Acting? Two front teeth, and two more.
Gaslighting, bad; feedback, good. My best for right now, their best five years ago, means they're always five years ahead? Too many life changes, not enough lessons. Unplug everything, wait ten seconds, plug it back in. Or maybe just leave that unplugged.
Stress fractured positive. No more 5:30 wakings to fixed itineraries. No more doing. Winter ends but crutches solidify cabin fever. Not a pity post. Childhood does not determine destiny. Ridding the "if I could just[s]". Resetting the benchmark for Progress not perfection. Decent, not great, slightly above average. This is my adjective.
Injured again, Broken in Brooklyn 2.0, but thankfully not broke. Looks like finishing time is the least of my concerns for the Brooklyn Marathon. Self love is not a gateway to narcissism. Reassessing expectations realistically equals dropping sub-3. Independence with dependencies. Don't try to race me on a long run bro. Be here, now. Have I really been living here for four months?
Is the infinite pursuit of making things better, just a compensation for the inevitable ending? Not here, now. Tomorrowland. New training block. I wake up to it snowing for the first time in my life, then go for a drive. Tax season is looming. It gets cold. Then it gets colder. Then every run gets colder.
Surgery. Breathing. We take a break, concluding with strength training. Light and darkness. Coach has me come up with a new mantra and it’s screamed to downtuned guitars rattling the center of my chest, right before a breakdown. Still a hardcore kid at heart. Maintaining intensity but not distance or time.
Sleeping. Going back home to Florida for Christmas. Coming back to home three, Brooklyn. Later 2021, you were very good to me. THIS IS THE MESSAGE. Nesting for the impending winter. Cold showers aren't enough.
No race planned, still training. Training is life. So used to being sore and aching that I don't recognize when I'm fatigued, but this is good. I don't want to push people, just myself, if others catch the contagion, that's great- but it's better when it's borne from within. Avoiding post-race postpartum depression. Chaski's were messengers, which is the meaning of the Greek word "aggelos" that we translate in English as "Angel". First trail run with Brooklyn Trail Club. First long run with Brooklyn Track Club- join BKTC. Seconds on both runs.
Officially a Brooklynite? The address says so. 13.1 miles in 1:29:29; 78th overall out of 2,432; 60th Male out of 1,095; 8th out of 146 in the 30-34 Male Age Division. Okay now that's out of the way.
Hartford, CT. What a race. 3 hour drive from Newark. Beautiful city. Well put together event. Incredible staff. I did not DNF the marathon. GU is pretty good. PACER?! They say running is a series of jumps, leaps- my stride must have momentarily lengthened to get me here. Third race upcoming. Cut in half. Moving is official. Planning. Story. Change. Adaptability. Newark traffic tickets. Sobriety in tact.
Lets see, I moved a thousand miles from home- in the middle of the most brutal tax season in seven years, took a step back from marathon training- but finally ran 15 miles, got new glasses, and I met someone.
The highlights don't do the details justice. Finally a vacation. Finally I can meet my coach. Finally I can escape the monotony and replace it with spontaneity. My hip was not as stoked as I was. Even limping. Perfect timing body.
Here I am, in Brooklyn- the big city, an escape. I’m exhausted. Despite being unable to train how I’d like to up here, I’ve kept on training. But this is still a vacation, shouldn’t I be having fun? Is it possible to get tired of spending money? Should I just go home? I miss my dog. Do people work here? Why are they always walking around like they’re also on vacation? It’s been a year since that first run on 6.18.20 and 1,212 miles as of this writing (379.4 in 2020, 833 in 2021). Quite a bit stands in stark contrast- I didn’t know what a marathon even was besides an extended play of a TV show, now my life revolves around training for one.
I have a real, certified, coach. I’ve ran a few races. I can run longer, faster, easier even- thanks to the Nike Run Club, I can look back and see that objectively. I had no idea when I went out in my back yard for a “test” run a year ago, that it would change the whole trajectory of my life, it just kind of happened. That’s what they said. My beloved Ford Focus was declared a total loss, Totaled. Irredeemable. Beyond repair. Somewhat similar to my marathon training, but with a leg up via the insurance check.
Two long runs in excess of 10 miles, every other run in excess of 5, was nothing like when I started though (that’s the insurance check). We went from practically zero - to 25.1, 28.2 and 26.3 total miles a week, in three weeks respectively. That would have been impossible for me this time a year ago. What is a total loss, is my paces and times pre-injury. Coach unofficially starts training me for Half-Ironman, then goes on a 300 mile run out west. Busy season never ends at work, but I get promoted. I’m hit by an uninsured-homeless-Vietnam-vet mourning his wife. My Dad goes to the hospital. My grandma goes to the hospital. An indecisive girl strings me along. BUT... the physical therapist tells me to start running again, and I never thought to drink. Crazy huh?
Running may be tabled temporarily- but between Coach’s brilliance with cycling, swimming, ellipticals; physical therapy; and the 69x challenge, life has been anything but inactive. Oh yeah, there’s also work, thankfully that’s a constant.
The BC69x challenge. This is my second go round, and something close to my heart. In essence, it shaped and solidified my daily maintenance routine of mind, body, and spirit. It’s been a year, and I sort of never stopped. This time, I’m a team lead. Mixed terrain running, blind runs (without any watch), speed work, and finally we’re going to do that 16 mile long run with hill surges. The buildup was perfect.
40 plus mile weeks, is actually conservative for where we’re at with marathon training, so if I was ever prepared it was now- surely. Coach scolded me for never refueling during a run, so I set to correct that. Thank you Science in Sport! These are the days where I rely on routine to pull me through. Otherwise, I’d just sit around and read a book. Excitement to do anything is fleeting, and every morning I wake up feeling like a limp noodle.
Am I depressed? Maybe. The symptoms do line up, and the melancholy feelings are reminiscent of times past that have left an indelible scar. The difference now is that I’ve memorized the chords to a song that resonates with my core beliefs, soothes my insanity, and repeats before I lose the melody. Nevertheless, we press on! “Integrity” is one of those words that causes me to tighten up. Often attached to those society holds in high regard, it seems far away from a commoner like myself. But the word actually comes from “integer” (not math!)- a whole number. “Whole” is a word I like, and part of my daily mission: to be whole, healthy in mind, body and spirit.
The question is whether the whole days sum to an integer. Or put another way, am I running with singleminded vision? With the hip still healing, I got a telegram from Coach telling me to go on a hike and check out some trails. On the way to Alderman’s Ford Park, I received a call from the Doctor’s office with lab results from my recent blood test.
Everything was good, but they asked me if I had any infections. “Not that I know of, why?” Because your white blood cells were high. I asked what that means, and the tech said she wasn’t sure, just to ask me if I was fighting any infections. I pulled over on the side of the road, racking my brain over the implications when Wim Hof came to mind. Could that be affecting my blood?! I’ve been practicing the Wim Hof method for nearly a month now. Not only for the holistic benefits, but to test it out from an athlete’s perspective. I went into this entirely open to any biochemical, psychological, neurological, physiological effects- willing to use myself as a lab experiment.
Because why not? It’s just breathing exercises and cold showers right? Both of which I already did, just not per Wim Hof (AKA “The Ice Man”). The results have been intriguing... This day a year ago, I surrendered to my disease. I gave up. I said, you win alcohol, I’m tired of fighting with you, I can’t make this work.
Like any toxic relationship, I knew the abuser wouldn’t settle for a clean break. I’d need help and support, in ways I was never open to before, from people God only knew. After the race, Coach literally told me to do nothing, and we spent a week in repair. Very light and low volume running, with some cross training. The break gave me some time to glow, before we started building up again.
I tried to mentally go back to the beginning, did the NRC “First Run”, and properly let Coach Bennett kick off the reset. |
AuthorA human being learning to run and breathe, again. Read more about me here. Archives
March 2023
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