Bloodlines

This story can be rightfuly categorized in the "No Way" box. That I am adopted may be of public information. What may not be familiar to most is the long-term process I have experienced in an effort to establish some sort of connection with my bloodline. The initial search began back in the early 90's and it basically ended in failure.
Up until that time I had never considered the aspect of rejection, but once the mediator made the limited 3 attempts at opening the door, I felt the fullness of the word under such contexts. Not only did my birth mother not answer or acknowledge the certified letters, but she would not speak to my mediator either. That was during a time when that 'rejection' word was being felt quite heavily as I was going through a domestic struggle that would not cease.
I let the matter drop. A decade passed, then another. Once again I found myself revisiting similar thoughts and desires, only this time I seem to have this drive that lends more to health and well-being as my age topped the over-40 generation. The difference in the intervening years: The age of technology has come full circle and I have access to more databases than I had even hoped. I have discovered more information than I can ask or think. It wasnt until 23Jan12, just a couple days ago, that I realized the proximity within which I had come in finding out my bloodlines.
I know my mom's name. I know the name of the man she married two years after I was born. I know her relatives, and thanks to the almighty Facebook, I have seen pictures. I also know the street address where she lived when she married, since I have the marriage certificate/application from the state of Texas....and this is where it gets really amazing.
The property records of her address way back in 1969 indicate the prperty never left her maiden name's family. To sum it up: my mom's parents and my grandparents lived in that residence up until thier death. Who owns it now, I'm not sure. But I do know this: When I deployed in 2007, I deployed from Biggs Army Airfield in El Paso, Texas and both were still alive. The area from which we departed was a building offsite from the ain terminal at one end of the tarmac. Near the fence that marks the border of the post. And as it turns out, the house in which my grandparents lived, the same house in which my mom lived when she most likely was carrying me, was no less than a few hundred meter from the building I deployed from, just on the other side of the fence.
Another interesting note: my grandmother served at a Prebsterian Church in El Paso in which she was memorialized. The service was publicized and included a picture of her. The resemblance is striking, especially in the nose.
What's more, while I was in my mobility phase at Ft. Bliss in El Paso, I visited Beaumont Army Medical Center a few times. The address listed on the marriage cert for the man my mom married was only a couple blocks away from the Med Center, and which I might have passed by on more than one occassion.
I do not know if that man is my father, so I have not indicated as such. Reasonable certainty would say he is, but until I know for sure, I cannot claim. I do know that he lives in Las Cruces, NM now.
As for my mom? The mobile home she was living in until Augustof last year burned down. I saw photos of the ruined framework and the fire investogator's report. I also was able to secure her current address and phone number. The question I face now: With all this effort at making contact, do I still go through with it? The chance for rejection remains strong, but as she turns 66 this year, I should think that I don't want to miss this opportunity.

Half a Year Gone By

Since I completed my first 50 back in April I have been focusing heavily upon my studies with running coming in a close second of activities that take up my time. So many things have happened in the last six months I have trouble narrowing it all down. I suppose working backwards might be a good approach:
1. Ragnar Relay Las Vegas: Still coming down from the high and physical demands of this 12-person relay I am happy to have been able to captain this team. Hopefully we will assemble the team again next year and be even better!
2. Team Challenge had a Sunset 5K where after hiring my coach back I had this race as an evaluation race to see where my conditioning had taken me. I took 10th overall, 2nd in my age group with a time of 24min.
3. Labor Day weekend proved to be a huge pride weekend for me as I signed up for three full marathons over the weekend. I ended up with a full, a half, and a DNF. CAR in CA.
4. Ragnar Relay Great River: What a great time. This was an ultra team and was simply incredible. Alec and I are attempting to put together a CO ultra team.
5. Badwater: As a support crew member this was a chance of a lifetime opportunity to pace with John Wog for 90 miles before dehyrdation took him out hard.
6. Devil: I got my revenge in June when I ran the full Devil marathon and cleared a 5:19 time.
7. Run the Beach: I attempted to break 4 hours with this one and sabotaged myself. Too much Fizz and anti-fatigue and not enough water. Took me five hours but I got a first place!

I have also been back to drill status and have only been paid for one drill so far. ON top of that, I had to pay back 6 days of terminal leave they oversharged me, then my tires finally gave up and I had to fork over another grand on new ones. Schoolwork going very well finally raising my GPA to 3.0.

So.....I think I am back online. I might touch up on some of these races in soon-to-be posts. It depends on how much schoolwork I get done!

Juniperwood Ranch 50-miler: Part 2

Then it got dark. Not like in Vegas where lights are always illuminating, but I mean desert dark. The stars were magnificent. And so was the cold. It didn’t take much for us to climb into our tent and amidst the multitude of blankets and sleeping bags huddle up and try to get some sleep in preparation for the race. Again, the assumptions we make sometimes fool us into believing the untrue.

Sometime in the night the temperature dropped. I don’t know how cold it got and I have no idea how the runners stayed out on the course, but it dropped severely. The wind that was supposed to stop didn’t.  My sleeping mat didn’t work as I felt the ribs of my truck beneath me. With the wind whipping the top of the tent around, the cold, and the rough sleeping surface my sleep was not to be obtained.

Sometime after 0400 the call of nature got the better of me and upon returning to the tent I flamed on the camp stove under the coffee pot. Not sure why I did that since I knew I would have to get out of bed in 30mins to actually get a cup. But that action led me to grab the gas heater and light it up inside the tent. Not a great move for very long unless carbon monoxide is something enjoyable. Along with the heater I grabbed the coffee cups. The water from the night before inside the cups had frozen solid.

I curled back up inside my bag for the few remaining minutes I had left and let the heat bathe me. Debbie got up a short time after that and to my blessing made breakfast complete with pancakes, sausage and eggs. She was truly amazing. I drag her all over the place and while it does give her a chance to get out of Vegas, she is the major contributor to my running support crew. She takes all my pictures that have gained me some notoriety in the Hammer Nutrition world. And here she was at 0500 in the cold wind making me some hot chow before my run. To add more accolades, the day was yet to demonstrate her endurance for more hours than we had planned. Yes…she had a long day too.

With breakfast ready and the start time over 3 hours away I gobbled down some delicious nutrition. She even had the campfire going to which I warmed myself as best I could. I layered up nicely and enjoyed the semi-warmth of the morning sun. Reflecting on my loss at Labor of Love I knew this race was going to be a trail run. The unfortunate factor proved to be the lack of proper equipment. I did not have a pair of trail shoes. I made a quick purchase in the leading days prior to the race, but the shoes were nowhere near broken in for such a run. Thus, I shod my feet with my street shoes and hoped for the best. I did bring my new trails shoes, but figured I would at least start in the broken in street shoes first.

The crowd at the start line was insane. I could barely see through everyone to find Debbie as the 7 or 8 people clamored for position at the starting line. At 0900 the race started and I promptly executed my plan to start the race out at a 10-11 minute per mile pace. The wind blew in my face chilling me, but my ninja sweats under my hammer long sleeved shirt under my Hammer wind breaker under my Bronco sweatshirt hoodie kept my resistance to the wind strong enough to continue. I made my first lap as Debbie’s camera sounded like an M-16 on full auto as I passed by our campsite. Only 49 more laps to go. I felt great. I had energy, my hip flexors were silent and the people I was with were very supportive of each other. This was already shaping up to be a great first 50-miler.

The plan was working beautifully. For 9 laps I had averaged a 10:20 pace and held my position nicely. At the precise scheduled time I fueled. I drank water at each lap when I was supposed to do so. And I hated the wind though my outlook remained strong and positive. That’s when something went wrong. Of course the assumption was made that things were going to be okay, that I would run a solid race and only walk on occasion. But my assumption was proven to be a wrong one to make. Somewhere in mile 8, 9, or maybe even 10 I felt the tightness of the outside of my left knee contract. The ligament had experienced something it did not like, and I can only guess the lack of training on trails coupled with wrong shoes contributed to the injury. I kept going though by mile 13 the tightness had elevated to pain and I had been reduced to a walk-trot-walk pace, slowed to a 14-15minute per mile pace.

For the next 7 miles I nursed it good. More than I should have probably. I experienced the passing by my fellow 50-milers plus the added benefit of the marathoners lending me some sneaker dust. I eventually stripped off the Bronco hoodie and Hammer windbreaker, but the sweatpants and long sleeve shirts remained. Other runners from the area were actually stripped down to bikini tops, no tops, and shorts. The ones with no tops were dudes.

At mile 20 I remember thinking something along the lines of having to do another 30 miles like this? And I simply couldn’t conceive it, so I kept going. Once in a while I would pick up the pace and trot for a bit, but it seemed like every lap I was stopping at the campsite trying to find some remedy that would alleviate the pain. By this time I was having 20 minute lap times. It was here I simply acknowledged I haven’t even completed a full marathon, so kept going I did. Water was going down me a bottle a lap. The wind continued to blow sustained between 10-15mph with gusts. The sun was fully out as well. My fuel continued as well, with the addition of solid food from the support tent. At mile 26 I was up to 5 hours and 52 minutes.

Then I hit mile 30. This was the lowest point of the race for me. The thought of having another 20 miles to go seemed like an impenetrable wall. I stopped at the support tent and told the director I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to make it. Hunched over, rubbing my knee, I just kept going. I am having a difficult time describing it. I recall telling him that I could go on. I see myself saying it to him. Then a moment later I am still on the course. Walking yet moving. It was around this time Debbie jumped on board and walked a lap with me. That was a truly great lap. It was during this lap we decided that staying another night simply would not be an option. Both of us wanted nothing more than to be home. With that, Debbie started to break camp.

Mile 33. Once again I find myself at the support tent. Something I truly enjoyed about this race was the big screen TV they had displaying your lap, your current time, and your last lap time for not just you to see, but anyone wanting to know their position could simply take a quick glance and see where they were at in the standings. It wasn’t too hard to figure out. At mile 33 I found myself tied for dead last with Amanda from Mesa, AZ who was also at the tent. And we were at least 5 miles behind. Over the course of the next mile I enjoyed a pretty good conversation with her as she had been at Labor of Love 50 also.  That lap did something inside me.

Taking my leave from her, I stopped at my campsite where Debbie wrapped a cold compress around my knee and I headed back out. Why did I not do this earlier? I walked a lap with that compress on my knee and by the time I came back around things had begun to change. My knee didn’t hurt as much, but what’s important was that something inside me was different. I started seeing the little sticker I wanted for the window of my truck. I pictured Debbie waiting those long boring hours in the cold and blowing wind. I pictured my coach. I pictured crossing the finish line being able to say I did it. And it worked.

Over the next lap my pace increased slowly and with the compress still taped to my knee by mile 35 I had increased my pace to a 12-13minute mile pace. I trotted when I could and started finding out that as long as I was moving my knee was mostly okay. The one time truly stopped to remove the cold compress nearly drove me to the ground. My knee stiffened up something bad and when I tried to run shards of pain needles ran through my entire leg.

From mile 35 to mile 45 it went this way: I would walk the uphill portions since they required certain movements that caused pain. The downhill portions I did my best to run using the proper form I have come to utilize through my training. Rough sections I walked also to reduce the chance of sustaining a rolled ankle. Water and fuel all continued to flow normally. At mile 44 I finally urinated for the first time since waking up that day. This was also the lap I FINALLY started to chafe in a certain unmentioned area plus I gained my first and only blister on my left heel of course.

Mile 47 brought darkness and my headlamp. I really didn’t think I would need it, but I tossed it in my bag anyway, and as it turns out it came in handy. Although it provided enough light to see my way, it didn’t give enough to enable me to run. I couple times I hit a rock and nearly went over. The only other thing it did was allow me to see how much dust I have been inhaling all day. So….for the next three miles I walked the course. But I knew….HAD KNOWN for three miles already…that I was going to finish my run.

The last three miles took the longest in my mind. It was pitch black. There were only four runners on the mile-long course. I was alone with my thoughts unless I passed by the support tent or my campsite. By that time Debbie was huddle in the truck trying to stay warm. I would call out how many miles I had left as I passed by, and the guys in the support tent would continue to encourage me when I passed them as well. But out on the course, walking alone, it was me and my thoughts. Yet, I was not really alone.

Someday I will share what I went through those last three miles. But trust me. I wasn’t alone. And for the first time all day I wasn’t cold.

I crossed the start line at mile 49. 1 more lap. 1 more mile. I had already missed my twelve hour mark, but by then I really didn’t care what my time results would be. The winner came in at 6 hours and some change. The only other person in my age group came in at 11:10. My final time would end up at 12:27. But that last lap! My last lap! I passed by my truck one more time and called out for Debbie. I only had a half mile to go.

100 meters from the finish I tried running. I had sufficient lighting and I wanted to cross the line running. It wasn’t meant to be. My knee nearly gave out on me. Content on simply finishing, I cross the line as Debbie’s camera rolled. I had no severe emotions. I was tired to be sure, but nothing like an overwhelming blanket of bliss or joy. I was happy to be done and happy to receive my congratulatory hug and kiss from Deb. But nothing like what I expected or assumed. I went inside the tent, enjoyed a grilled ham and cheese, warmed up, and talked with the guys for a bit. That was it. I had simply finished. And that was all that I needed.

Debbie and I thanked everyone for a great time, went back to our campsite and packed up the truck. My two 48-hour runner friends stopped y to say good bye. Maybe here’s one reason for the lack of emotion at my finish. These guys were out here doing a 48 hours race and I never heard a single complaint from either. I talked with Chisholm at one point while walking with him. I asked him if was hurting. I got an explicative in return. He hurt everywhere. He battled with the negative thoughts and fought them down with positive acknowledgement knowing what he had to do and that he was going to do it. Then he fought the same battle again five minutes later. How does one receive congratulations from guys like that? Or even Super Ed who has recently broken the world record for the most marathons in a single year, and he is still going only to make sure he does as many as he possibly can. He was at marathon number five when we left.

I stayed in the same clothes, shoes, everything. I just drove. We stopped in Kingman and got coffee. I changed shoes there and saw my blister for the first time. It was the size of a silver dollar. My knee had stiffened up to nearly not being able to bend. But with only an hour and a half to go, we hit the road. BY 0200 on Sunday morning Debbie and I both had showered and were sound asleep.

I have run races before where I did not do as well as I had planned. I had to drop out of Labor of Love. I still have yet to cut my marathons to less than 4 hours. This 50-miler was to be a redemption race for me. And all things considered? It was and I was.

Juniperwood Ranch 50: Part 1

I am having difficult time writing about this race. The news right now is displaying nothing but the death of Bin Laden as of yesterday, 01May2011, and I am hard pressed to even talk about something that has become so personal that only the few who have experienced anything similar truly appreciate my accomplishment. Sounds arrogant, I know, but it isn’t meant to be. That statement was nothing more than an observation based on the events that have transpired in the last 48 hours. On Saturday, 30APR2011, I ran 50 miles.

What started out as an effort to silence a critic evolved into something of a personal substance somewhere along the way. Thus, in January of this year, four months ago almost to the day I began my training program specifically designed for a 50mile race. The amount of time I have spent on the road combines to equal more than I spent doing anything else in comparison to extra-curricular activities. I worked, I slept, I ran, I ate….those were the activities that took up the majority of my time.

My goal race was set: Labor of Love through Calico Racing.  I have competed in this race before so I knew the course and I support the race director. Everything was planned to the hour and even taking into account the unexpected things looked good. But the unexpected happened and two strained hip flexors eliminated my chance at finishing. It was a blow to my ego and its effects had a lasting impact, as I was about to find out.

My options? Continue training and wait for the next close opportunity, which didn’t look very promising. All the road races were either too far away to drive or too far in the future for me to continue training. Or…make the choice between two trail runs: Leona Divide in CA or Aravaipa in AZ. Either way I knew it was going to be a significant change from road to trail, but after discussing both, Leona presented the most hazard course of action simply due to the out-and-back course. If I injure myself out there, help will be a long time coming. So, Arizona would be the race.

Funny the assumptions we make. Without actually making a physical appearance on the course itself, my review of the area included its location, the weather, the terrain, and factors that went into making the decision to move into the arena of camping as opposed to hotels. The terrain didn’t look that bad. I knew it would be a trail run, so what more could one expect? The weather called for a nice day with a high near 70deg. Hotels? In Ash Fork? Possibly, but as I approach my time of no more paychecks coming in, Debbie and I decided to cut costs and do something we both enjoy. So it is we are moving into the realm of camping for my out of town races. With a new tent and a decent plan laid out for food and equipment, we left Friday with a pick-up load of stuff.

Turning south off I-40 near Ash Fork, AZ we bounced around for a couple miles until we found Juniperwood Ranch. Like something taken out of the old west, the structure were no bigger than what could hold 10 people at a time, if that. The complex had a drive leading to the cluster of buildings from the main road to a circular parking area surrounding a sunken cemented-in fire pit. Aligning the drive were flag from each of the fifty states. And they were horizontal thanks to the wind.

The race tent had been set up and on the course were the 6 48-hour runners well into their 6^th hour of the race. We located the owner who directed us to the south end of the complex, and upon moving around the fence line we found a couple vehicles parked in the back marking our spot. We found a nice little space between three Juniper Trees, backed right up to the course, and set up camp. Not to put too much of a touch on things, I think we did a very fine job indeed, this being our first time camping together and it having been many years since either one of us enjoyed this nature quest. It looked like things were going to work out quite well. Oh…the assumptions we make.

Once we set up camp we made our way to the timing area at the start/finish where we met our race director, Nick. He had a huge array of food set-up for the runners, enough to feed a Rock and Roll marathon. Quite impressive. I found out later he and his staff were in the business of cooking too, as I savored a grilled ham and cheese at mile 50.01. We also took a walk around the campus with the owner, Frank, who showed us some homemade wine that he brewed from Prickly Pear Cactus and a variety of other flavors. Also on display that we didn’t have a chance to enjoy were the two outdoor bathtubs facing north into the sunset. We missed that photo opportunity, much to our dismay, simply out of weather conditions.

Back at camp and somewhere around 5p.m. we lit up the camp stove and within an hour were enjoying a dinner of chicken and raviolis with pesto sauce. A fire was started in our portable fire pit using a fir log and a few dried branched of nearby Juniperwood. Occasionally runners would trot by and receive a cheer or two. Eventually we broke out the marshmallows and I made my last communications check with my coach. We reviewed my race plan, pace plan, fueling plan. He bid me a good night and I settle in next to the fire with roasted marshmallows and coffee, both of which we were more than happy to share with the runners still out on the course. All in all, the evening became an adventure Debbie and I love to share together, a night of making memories while meeting some really great people. So ended the day of excitement and anticipation. We were not expecting anything like what happened in the next 24 hours.

The Bunny Trophy

2011 Rockin' Rabbit Half Marathon 

I must admit I write this with a bit of humility still hanging over me. Two weeks ago I put forth my best effort in my goal race at Labor of Love 50 miler, coming up short at mile 22 with dual hip flexor injuries. I still question my decision to stop, and having given myself two weeks to recover I calculated the odds of returning to the game under the conditions of Rockin' Rabbit. The two races are hardly comparable but worth looking at the extreme differences. LOL started early at low elevation, in extremely cold weather, with a significant challenge of hills and elevation climbs at healthy grades all on paved road. RR did have a nice little climb within the first three miles then again at mile 7. The course was mostly paved road bike trail with the last three miles hard packed dirt trail through the infamous 6-Tunnels to Hoover Dam. The day was beautiful and the downhill course proved to be fast. But that's where I held to my concerns in not wanted to aggravate my hip flexors any more than I already had during LOL.

Debbie dropped me off at 0630 for my pre-race rituals. She drove on to the 5K start where four of our friends met her for the 5K. Back at the start for LOL, for some unknown reasons my HR kept leaping off the scale when I wasn't even running. Once I did start my HR only stayed at threshold regardless of all efforts to keep it down.  RR was a nice easy day with no excitement and even though we had a slight grade to our run my HR never increased beyond 160 until mile 10.

LOL turn-around point at mile 11 was the beginning of the end. Now moving in the direction of the start/finish I was on the downhill portion (mostly) and it was then my hip flexors began to ache. Nothing like muscle fatigue, but definitely right in the connective tissue on both sides. Thus, my concern at RR was the lengthy downhill from mile 7 to 10. Over three miles of heavy downhill grade threatened my injuries resulting in a loss once again. However, it wasn't to be. While I heard some faint cries from them, I didn't actually hit some fatigue until the dirt portion where I simply could not get the traction I wanted. 

Thus, during the race at LOL by the time I hit mile 12 I was pretty much doubled over, walking at every opportunity and by the time I hit mile 22 at the start/finish I knew I was thru. As for RR? Even though the dirt track gave my legs some resistance (ironic) I was still able to keep a pretty good pace through it and finish strong. To my amazement, due to the ladies wanting to hang around for the raffles, I eventually found out that I came in second place in my age group!

Anecdotes: During LOL i was visited frequently by fellow runners checking me to make sure I was okay and if I needed any help. This happened over a long series of miles and I was quite impressed with the quality of people at this race.

RR, on the other hand, gave me a souvenir. Somewhere between miles 3 and 5 I was slowly passed by a young 20-something-blonde-playing-on-her-cell-phone-as-she-ran type runner. I wasn't moving slow and the pass took a while, but she must have thought she left me behind as suddenly and without conducting the courteous over-the-shoulder headcheck, out of her right side nostril she blew out some foreign substances that whizzed past my shoulder simulating a rifle shot. The glob of goo narrowly missed my bright white and red Hammer running shirt and the main slug of destructive slime sailed off into the desert to feed some insects.

What I did get was not GUN-powder residue but RUN-powder residue. I viewed the fine white mist as its cloud caught a wind pattern and sought out my sponge-like existence. I immediately felt my temperature rise in a sad mixture of surprise and anger, yet the overspray gave me a little respite from the heat due to the cool shower of post-nasal drip mist. MMMM.....Deee-lish. I later thanked her for the present, to which she had not much to say. I am trying hard not to stereotype here, and in the interest of keeping myself on the mature side for a change, I will let it go and fall where it may. My apologies if it hits anyone.



So the Bunny Trophy wasn't the only trophy I came home with, and that's okay with me. My hip flexors are happy again, I have a new goal race scheduled for this weekend, and I get to go camping too. What more could a runner ask for except maybe a shower?

DNF

I hate those three letters. Despise them with a severe passion. Ask any athlete or competitor of any sport at any level and they will tell you they represent everything opposite to everything the athlete believes and holds as significant. This will exemplify the feelings I have this morning. Justified or not, DNF comes to represent gaps in my training program. The ultimate responsibility remains with me, so any consequences therein are mine as well. Keeping this in mind, my decision to not continue after mile 22 must be viewed as the right decision since the outcomes may have been extremely different. Right now I have the luxury of a pity party yet I have the availability to make the necessary corrections and continue on with my training focusing on my next race. Had I possessed the internal mechanisms to drive on in spite of what was occurring, I may have found myself unable to continue within any venue, let alone running. Hence, at mile 22 I made the decision to withdraw from the race and take my DNF.
What took place: The only thing I didn't anticipate yesterday was the wind. I knew it was going to be cold so I came fully prepared with all sorts of clothing. I knew the run was going to be challenging since I have completed this course on two other occasions. I had my entire fueling planned out to the hour including water. I even had a special shipment of fuel delivered just in time for the race so I would have all the nutrients ready. On top of that, I purchased a portable battery supply for my iPOD. I mean, I covered my bases! Except....there were issues. My HR monitor stopped in warm-up. Then it started again. Then it showed my HR pinging way over my max DURING WARM-UP! I was also not entirely focused prior to the start, not common for me. I usually find my zone pretty quickly, but this time I had 'too many minds' going on as a result of a very disturbing week.
I thought I did pretty well making the initial climb of 2000 feet or so even with my HR indicating a steady 160-165 rate. (Yes, that's too high.) I followed everything perfectly and even knew my pace was slow due to the climb, and even chalked up the HR to the climb. I hit the turn around at mile 11 and headed back down the mountain. It was the downhill that finally caught up with me and the adductors started signaling me of their impending collapse.
By the time I hit mile 16 where Deb was working the aid station, I was pretty much only walking, even though it was all down hill. I continued on as she drove to the next station which was at the 10K turn-around. By the time I reached her again, my adductors were as taught as violin strings and running only lasted 20 paces at a time. The last three miles to the start/finish took nearly an hour to complete, and by the time I arrived to check-in, I had pretty much determined that my day was done.
How did this happen? Where did I go wrong in my training? I thought about something on the way home and I don't believe it is coincidental. The same thing happened to me on 10OCT10 during the Hoover Dam Marathon. I signed up to run the full, but by the time I hit mile 10, my same muscles were screaming at me and I was only moving through a bent-over position. The fortunate circumstance to that race was the ability to have my time counted for the half marathon and I did not receive the infamous DNF. Then it happened again yesterday. The link? On both races I had completed the Army Physical Fitness Test only two days prior to the event.
Don't get me wrong....it wasn't the test itself that did me in. It was the lack of focused training the area of abdominals and hip flexors through strength and flexibility training that provided the conditions to be so ripe for injury during the runs themselves. And here again is where I get to take the responsibility for my injury. I had missed-trained these areas and focused so heavily on my running that my muscles were not used to the strain applied to them during the APFT and without sufficient time to recover before the race, the muscles simply didn't have sufficient endurance to complete the races.
So, I have a 50 mile sticker that won't get added to my truck just yet. I lost a significant amount of financial investment through race entry fees, products purchase, etc. Tough lessons to learn, and ones only I can assimilate. Upon occasion I wonder what people will think, but then I remember two very important principles: the ones who opinions count will only be those that support me, and those who criticize don't have to live in my body from now until the injury heals or for that matter, doesn't heal because I did too much damage. And really, do I really care what the negative fault-finder and the "I'm-better-than-you' type person thinks? That only shows a complete lack of empathy (being able to see from someone else's eyes.)
So what now? My training continues. It will be severely adjusted, but it will continue. My only responsibilities now include the two master degree classes I am taking so time is entirely on my side and the absence of negative criticism will only serve to benefit me in the long run(pun intended!) Yep, I am going to feel sorry for myself today. Poor me. Waaa waaa waaa
But then I am going look at other things in my life that remind me of who I am but WHOSE I am. And I will get back on my training wheel and be the little hamster I love to be.

Breaking Barriers

On March 26, 2011 I came to within two and half minutes of breaking through the four hour marathon barrier. This is important because in the last three years of running I have yet to do so. I now have 9 full marathons under my belt and just haven't been able to cross the finish line under four hours. And with those words I paint a very simple picture of a person who has in his path a barrier that seems impenetrable. However, in further inspection some certain facts come to light that provide a reasonable justification for the apparent failure that is, in fact, not a failure at all, but an extremely significant accomplishment in and of itself.
The most important component of this particular marathon can be found in the past four months of training. For that a bit of history is required. I hired my coach a year ago and my first goal with him was to run a marathon under four hours. The training plan he put me on worked on developing a specific energy system while additionally working on a specific muscle fiber. That being said, in several attempts to run a full my body refused to cooperate and each goal race I set ended up being lost due to illness. At the conclusion of the Las Vegas Marathon in December when I exploited my reserves within the first half resulting in a 4:30 time, I adjusted my goals and set my sights for priority number two: a 50 miler.
This training plan in progress since January has completely changed focus and e3verything has changed. All I do now is focused on the ability to run for an extended period of time. Okay, four hours is a long time too, but think about it. If 26 miles requires 4.5 hours, add another 24, take into consideration bodily degradation and you end up with a time like 10 full hours of running. This is simply not something you do over a course of a couple weeks. I have spent the last four months slowing my pace, working out details of long distance endurance running styles, and this style of running uses a full marathon as a TRAINING RUN.
Add to this a couple of life changing events and you have a race day that is somewhat clouded already that stand in the way of that 4-hour mark. These events include applying for a job in D.C. as well as leaving the current job in a week for full time schoolwork. Decisions decisions. And the irony of it all? The race was run in the rain.
Ultimately I missed my 4 hour mark once again, this time by only 2 and a half minutes. But my gain was so much more. I ran the entire race, something I have never done before. I didn't stop and I didn't quit. I will break my goal one day. Just gimme time. For now, the only time I need is that ten hours.