Now This

Mrs. Viper can't catch a break. She had two minor surgeries in the past three months. She got bogged down with work stress. And now, three days after strongly finishing her leg of the Akron Marathon, she wrenches her back getting out of the shower.

She blames something else for the pain that now has her on a steroid regimen, but whatever the cause is irrelevant in the face of stalling our post-race "stay active" plan.

This sucks.

We both have some fitness goals, but it's tough to enact an exercise routine when one of us is stuck with doctor's orders to rest.

Mrs. Viper feels frustrated and discouraged by this new setback. Who can blame her? It has been one thing after another. It's hard to find a groove this way.

Most runners deal with injuries throughout the year, but this is ridiculous. These are freakish occurrences and have nothing to do with the typical "too much, too soon" maladies, which would be more preferable at this point. At least she would have a good reason why she hurts.

My role of head male cheerleader has been relegated to head male nurse. Instead of laying out Mrs. Viper's running outfit this morning, I arranged her medicine next to a glass for water.

Wait, did I just write about laying out my wife's clothing? Yeah, as if she'd let me pick out what she wears! I can barely match my socks, let alone a whole ensemble. But enough about my colorblindness.

The point is we should be building on our experiences at the Akron Marathon, not trying to decide whether the floor is better for her back than the couch.

When you hit a rough patch it shakes your faith. You start to wonder if this will ever end. How do you stay positive during a series of unfortunate incidents?

There was a pretty bad stretch in my life back in the 1990s. It took me to a low place for a number of years, but the experience taught me a lot about perseverance.

The ability to persevere separates those who win Charles Darwin's game of survival of the fittest. That doesn't mean you always have to present a "never say die" attitude, but know that the only constant is change. Life will get better.

Supplemental Sock Stories of Sorrow

It's about those fancy toe socks that took forever to arrive from Amazon.com. You know the ones. I bitched about them for many posts. And now the bitch is back.

Item: Injinji Liner Crew Toesocks
Size: Large
Bitch: They fucking suck!

According to the sizing chart, large should fit men with feet size from 11 to 13. My feet are about 11.5. These socks should fit. So explain why it feels like my pinky toes are being sawed off?

And you should see how stupid I look trying to insert my toe-socked feet into my Vibram KSOs. I pry the upper away from my foot so I can insert my encased toes in further encasement without the sock bunching up. Regardless, the webbing between my toes is still subjected to the strangulation of Lycra, nylon and whatever the fuck is CoolMax.

Now, this pain isn't so bad that I can't run. The discomfort subsides after a mile at most. Oh but when I return, I can't get my shoes off fast enough. My smaller toes feel like they've had an ever-tightening, sharp wire wrapped around the lowest knuckles.

The only theory I have is that my toe socks are too small. I was hoping to get by without having to buy anymore of these ridiculous contraptions, but alas my sorrow grows, for I may have to open my wallet again.

The good news is that the Enthusiast and I ran four miles last night. This is the base of her long runs. We'll be into double digits in no time. Cheers!

Flashback Friday: OK, I Ran

Martini organized a small group trail run at Sand Run last night, and so I ran for the first time this week. It was a "bah" run. I practiced some surge-and-recover running. My goal mileage is probably out for this week. This weekend will have to be Operation De-rut Myself.

Back Talk

Wherein I have to go all mea culpa for my shortcomings.

I overlooked Sun Runner's homage to me, emphasizing my recent slackitude: "My feelings are hurt. You didn't even see what I had to say about you in this post."

Answer: My bad. Many thanks. And perhaps some day I'll let you buy me a beer or five.

Andrew Opala has some motivation for me: "I'm with misszippy ... but my choice would be Invincible with Mark Walberg."

Answer: So getting pummeled by NFL players is supposed to make me feel good?

Happy Hour is almost here, teammates. Have a finely brewed weekend. Run well and drink well. Cheers!