Flashback Friday: Step Back in Line

Everything healthy has gone out of whack. Running is negligible, while eating is abundant. This week, my goal was to take a step toward regaining control of my fitness.

My diet has been terrible and represents the prime culprit in my unpleasant scale readings. Finding new inspiration at Nerd Fitness, I decided to make some changes, starting with tracking my food intake everyday with the plan to eventually reduce my daily consumption by 500 calories.

Starting Monday, I began logging everything I eat. It's such a bore. So far, eating less has been a challenge. Maybe I need to skip a meal.

Tuesday, I actually did a short circuit workout at home before work. You know, squats, push-ups, lunges, planks, dumbbell rows, jumping jacks — simple stuff. Just two reps of this routine exposed long forgotten muscles that have lain dormant for, like, ever. So, naturally, I haven't exercised much since then.

Most mornings I've been able to walk the dog, and I'll do a few push-ups here and there, but nothing you'd consider "working out." But I have to remind myself: baby steps, OK?

So this week, it's tracking my diet. Next week perhaps will be reducing calories, and after that a consistent exercise routine. Soon, running will reenter the picture.

Back Talk
Wherein we talk about other things besides the weather

Ironman By Thirty talks about the whether, regarding a purchase: "Buy a pull up bar? Seriously? The guy who makes his own hippie shoes is going to BUY something that you can make for next to nothing?!?!? hahaha. I made mine with some threaded pipe and flanges and screwed it to the floor joists in the basement next to the treadmill."

Answer: You see, I thought about doing that, but there's not enough head room in our basement. Your chiding is completely warranted. Maybe I'll revisit the DIY approach.

Happy Hour is nearly upon us, teammates! Have a finely brewed weekend. Run well and drink well. Cheers!

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.

Commercialism in a Wintry Economy

After a rousing negative split on Sunday, my legs were a tad sore yesterday. Like a one-beer buzz, it is a sensation I haven't felt in a long while. That being said, I didn't run yesterday. Instead I had a tiny taste of the end of the world. It was delicious. I intend to run tonight (insert something about paving the road to hell).

That entire paragraph was supposed to segue into these videos, but I really dropped the ball. Here are some funny booze-related commercials. They are magnifico!

Martini commercial with George Clooney



Guinness commercial with ... who cares?


The weather is pretending to cooperate these next couple of days, staying above zero all the way until the weekend. These positive temperatures are a welcome trend after a week in the negatives. If I'm lucky, I'll get in four runs and/or 20 miles this week.

What Else I Can Do to Hurt Myself

Boston's loss last night was very enjoyable to witness in person, and the game was a nice way not to think about the running I'm not doing because of the hip I have that is not well. Tonight, however, I have no such distraction. I've spent an inordinate portion of the day thinking of what I can do instead of running tonight. And, now, to finish it off, I'll share my plans:

• I have a bike. I could ride it. But I really haven't had much desire to cycle since I participated in the National MS Society Pedal to the Point 100-mile ride in 2004. It was for a great cause, but I'll never do it again. I think I felt worse after that than I did after the marathon. And I pulled out after the first day. So that's out.
• I don't like weight lifting, so let's not even pretend that was on my mind.
• I don't have a gym membership, so no swimming either. Also, I don't know how to swim.
  
• It wasn't until I came across this lunatic at Ridgeline Fitness that I thought about that giant green bouncy ball in my room that I occasionally like to drag out from under my desk to do sit-ups. Yeah, I have a swiss ball. Maybe I should, like, you know, learn some exercises for it. So, tonight, I'll see if I can't stiffen my core muscles for tomorrow's post.

Feeling All Right and It Stinks

Martini calls me last night while I'm driving home from work ...

"Who is this?"

You called me.

"Right," he pauses, "are you running tonight?"

Am I running? No.

[Brief silence]

"So, that's a no then? Why not?"

Really, my hip feels fine, but that's just the problem. It feels fine enough to think I can go out for few miles with no ill effects. But my not-such-a-dumbass self knows my hip will be straining by mile two and I'll be in limptastic pain the next morning. I'm starting to feel out of sorts -- unwell, even. I see people running and I want to tackle them. This is what you get! This is what you get for taunting me!

I feel like a slug. I sit around most nights watching my reruns and I still have the appetite I had while training for the marathon. I fear I may need to go on a diet if this keeps up. Sadly, I may have to trade my beer for whiskey (very slimming!) while my running shoes are on sabbatical.

Luckily, I have a good distraction tonight. I scored tickets to Game 4 of the ALCS. Go Cleveland! Hmm, so much for the diet. Unless the vendors carry Johnnie Walker.

Ow! Quite It ... Ow! Quit It ... Ow! Quit It ...

It's clear to me now that I am totally PMS-ing (thanks to the Runners' Lounge for the link). And now I'm pretty sure I won't be getting back to my routine or entering another race very soon. It's been about two weeks since I finished my first marathon (13 days, 15 minutes, 37 seconds and counting) and I have run less than seven miles. Each of those three runs has resulted in hip pain. I'm sure there's some advice for rookies to explain this. Something like, Don't run for a while, dummy! It doesn't hurt that bad. It's just a small limp. I'm fine. I just ran a marathon! Surely, I can go out for a short three miles. Last night, as I was tip-toeing up a mean hill, I was playing The Weakest Link with my anatomy. I have it narrowed down to the Iliopsoas, Sartorius or Inguinal Ligament -- basically, the hip flexors (click image). As soon as I zero in on the saboteur, it will be voted off my body. You are the weakest link, goodbye! My doctor says it might be bursitis. I guess, in the mean time I'll recover with ice, naproxen sodium, booze and baseball playoffs (go Cleveland!), as I mow down some cheesy poofs and Circus Peanuts.

Akron Marathon Preview: Hey, Jealousy

Not only did I just make an uncalled-for Gin Blossoms reference, but I'm sitting here all sweaty about it in a tiny Chicago hotel room in Lincoln Park. (Three cheers for business trips!) Ever since I got here yesterday afternoon, I've been watching all these uppity runners who can run while I've decided to rest my ankle until Saturday's marathon. I figure most of these show-offs are gearing up for the Chicago Marathon on Oct. 7. So, to feel better about my lazy ass, I did some ankle exercises and this! Well, part of it. And now I'm all sticky, thinking about a band I wish I could forget while all these jerks run by my Days Inn on the street below.

Marathon Countdown: 2 days ... TWO DAYS! One-two!

Akron Marathon Preview: Too Close to Care

And now, I rest.

Ankle pain is awesome when you're facing your first 26.2 in four days. Martini and I went on what I decided will be my last training run before the Akron Marathon. I hadn't run since Thursday. I skipped my long run this weekend to let my ankle rest. It had nothing to do with being smashed and crashed and cashed.

I don't like putting more than three days between runs, but my ankle needs it. My ankle has been bothering me for two weeks. There's no pain when I run, just afterward. It hurts only when I curl my foot inward. Yesterday, it was feeling normal. But this morning, it's sore again.

We went for a slow six miles, which turned out to be not so slow. I had forgotten my watch and noticed Martini didn't have his either.

"Good thing we brought our watches," I said.

"The marathon's too close to care about time," Martini said. I knew then that the running portion of my training was done. No need for time. No need for miles. You can't cram for a marathon. My training now is taking care of myself for the next four days and showing up at the starting line Saturday morning.

Bombed to Bonk

I took a vacation day from work Friday and used my time to drink myself to oblivion. Beer for lunch and a lot more for happy hour and afterward. Happy hour started for me at 4:30 Friday night, and I continued until midnight. Unfortunately, marathon drinking did not play nice with marathon training.

Saturday was going to be my last 20-miler. Nope. I did however run 14 along what I imagine will be the toughest part of the marathon course. I followed miles 12-24, which are very hilly and comprise the so-called "wall" at mile 20. It's also very scenic as it winds through two parks, past a golf course, through a ritzy neighborhood and the outskirts of downtown past my apartment and where my friends plan to cheer on Martini and me.

However, my escapades Friday night caught up to me at around the 11th mile of the run. I felt great up until that point, but beer-induced dehydration told my legs to eff off. At this point I still had delusions of a 20-miler, but once I started walking I knew I was done for. I made it back to my car and called it a day.

Sunday, I caught up on the miles I missed on Saturday. Surprisingly, I was pretty fast for six miles on a pair tired legs.

I wonder how fast I'll be when I take drinking out of the equation. We'll answer that question next week as the taper extends to my alcohol consumption during pre-race undrunk week.

Marathon Countdown: 11 days.

Beer Healing

I decided last night that I would not in fact go for a run. My knee didn't feel all that bad, but it was sticky balls hot outside and iced knee sounded better than icked knee.

What I did do was engage in two of my favorite non-running like an idiot activities. I grabbed my keys and went down to the pub where I plunked myself down in front of the projection screen TV to watch baseball and asked the kind barmaid for a draft beer.

It's been awhile since I've gone to the bar by myself, and I don't often get the chance to watch a game. I am of bare pocketbook and no cable so I usually just listen to the radio broadcast and wait for the highlights during the news.

But last night seemed special. I am near payday so a little $10 beer holla seemed like a cost-conscious splurge and the Cleveland Indians were about to sweep the Minnesota Twins in a three-game series with the grand finale that wasn't between C.C. Sabathia and Johan Santana. Basically, the game was over after the first inning, which ironically I listened to on the radio while I was eating my dinner at home. But despite not seeing too much action it was still a nice treat.

And we can just call it carb-loading for my eight-miler tonight.

Marathon Countdown: 29 days.

What Knee Pain?

Last night, Martini and I did some track work. My knee does not feel 100 percent, but it held up well enough. However, it didn't feel up to the task of the four miles I planned or even the three miles I decided in medias res. I managed a mere 2.1 miles of two 100-meter repeats, which Martini was fixated on and I still think do nothing for long distance racing, and four 800-meter repeats.

Now, I need to make up some of the mileage for the week. Perhaps an easy three miles tonight. We'll see, I suppose.

The Akron Marathon is just one month away. I'm going to keep running on this knee until the pain goes away or it tells me to stop. I just need to keep up with the miles and break in my shoes.