East nasty – Page 2

December 9, 2012

Rocket City Marathon Recap

Some reflections on the Rocket City Marathon.

Yes, this is the one and only Bill Rodgers who was a former record holder for the marathon and won NY and Boston. According to his Wiki page, was not only a hero, but secondary fuel for the running boom of the 1970’s. That guy he’s hanging out with in the Mexican poncho and glasses is my friend Roger who just finished his first 26.2 mile race in 2012. As you can imagine these two had a lot in common and talked for hours.

Below is the “infamous tunnel” that every runner had to deal with twice. I heard from several (well, one runner, Roger) that for a few seconds it became “pretty dark” and “it was hard to see if you were stepping on lizards or pine needles.” Jim was also fascinated by the narrow runway, specifically whether or not his Smart Car could make it through. We decided it could, but I don’t think he tried.

This is Cara just before the finish and what she claims is a marathon PR. I haven’t done the research, so I am hesitant to confirm.

There is Captain Jim warming up in his post race cape after his “failure” to qualify for Boston. He looked strong as an ox at mile 15, but couldn’t quite keep the pace and backed it down to save energy for training. His next shot will take place in New Orleans. Make sure to give him a pat on the back. He loves that, especially while running.

Now, these guys I’m not sure what to make of. Well, actually, I am. They are good dudes and friends who temporarily lost their minds while winning over hundreds of runners in the process. Don’t be fooled by their quiet demeanor, either. They dished extreme vocal support to unsuspecting runners, nearly to the point of startling them off their stride. Seth and Daniel, marathon spirit team number one.

Roger channels his inner Bill Rodgers as he approaches the finish line. Shortly after the race, Roger told me, “You know, Bill was right. He said as you get near the finish line, remember one thing . . . You will never win a Boston or NY marathon, but you won’t win the Rocket City, either. Just make sure you follow the pace group with the sharpest looking ladies and everything else will fall into place.”

It doesn’t matter how fast you are, entering the dreaded Rocket City tunnel brings out the nervous smile in everyone. Especially when you’re this tall and the tunnel ceiling was meant for middle school kids.

Truth be told, it’s scenes like these that make me wonder why I drive 2 hours to take pictures of marathons. But then again, something here is remarkably awesome, especially when chants of “USA” ring in the background.

Here’s a shot of Roger going too fast at mile 2.5.

Let’s make no mistake, watching a marathon is exhausting. Thankfully Meg grew up in Huntsville and knew the back roads that kept us in front of the runners. Her family was also gracious enough to cook a mind blowing pasta feast that propelled East Nasty runners to excellent showings at Rocket City.

November 20, 2012

Flying Monkey Pics

I’m in conversion hell, so this will take at least another day, but here are a few more pictures from the one and only Flying Monkey.

November 1, 2012

A Runner's Conversation

You know, injury talk can be the worst. I mean, if it bores me, then it must bore everyone else in the world. It’s so self-serving, but I guess that’s what we do. We talk about what’s on our minds and pain is important:

Me: “You’ll be happy to know that my knee is still a little jacked.”

You: “Well, this prick I work with is really getting on my nerves.”

Me: “Oh, wow. Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping much lately!”

You: “Really? Yeah, like today when he punked me right in front of my boss.”

Me: “Man, Yeah, I don’t know if it’s something I’m eating or money issue stress.”

You: “Sometimes I just feel like kicking him in the nuts!”

Me: “I’ve been meditating more and even thinking about going to church again because it’s wearing me down.”

You: “I called in sick today because I couldn’t face that asshole.”

Me: “I don’t know, maybe I just need to change my diet back to gluten free.”

You: “Speaking of gluten, I’d like to kick him right in the ass!”

Me: “Maybe I’ll just call my father and tell him he’s forgiven.”

You: “Well, I guess I’d better be going.”

Me: “I hear you. Good seein ya!”

And so it goes.

I think this is why I like writing. You either have to listen to what I’m saying or walk away. Either way, I win!

So, last night was my first run in a while, and am happy to report, four miles with East Nasty and no knee pain. In fact, I felt better after that run than I have after any run in recent memory. I think it had a lot to do with rest, but mainly the strengthening exercises and an ongoing lust for my foam roller.

I had about 30 minutes to spare before the run, so I ran a little Jive Talkin‘ through the speakers and did a slew of warm-up work. Everything from pushups and situps to running in place and jumping jacks. I also did some hip flex and ass strengthening exercises (which are paying off nicely by the way). By the time I left for the run I was sweating and wearing knee wraps.

This injury could be a blessing in disguise. After powering my way from not running at all to a half marathon and eventually an Olympic Triathlon, I am finally getting a grip on balance and smart approaches, including the warm up.

In this way running is a lot like writing. They tell you to sit down and write for ten minutes or so and that’s when you’ll actually be saying something worth reading. In other words, warm up your brain. (In other, other words, I probably shouldn’t have published this crap!).

October 10, 2012

The Fab Five

Tonight, it was dinner with four guys who just happen to be joining me for Ironman Wisconsin. I was like, “Holy shit, everyone’s here,” but I shouldn’t have been that surprised because we planned to meet at Calypso Cafe to draw up training plans with our coach. And while I’m not sure if it’s going to stick, for now we’re calling ourselves the Fab Five.

The first thing Jim said to me was, “Please tell me you’re drinking beer.” I agreed without missing a beat and listened with a mouthful of hops as he segued into a tactical attempt to commandeer my basement for the next three months.

“You can stop me anytime, but Mark and I were thinking, since you have such a great basement, it would make a lot of sense if you wanted to be the headquarters for our P90x workouts.” I told him I’d answer after I finished my Yazoo Pale Ale.

I think the guys would agree that one of the coolest things about training for this Ironman is the group we have assembled. There is a wide range in experience as well as age. Jim has done two Ironman distance triathlons, Kevin has done one, and everyone has done a 1/2, including Daniel and Mark. I have done none of the above.

We have a lot in common, we’re all East Nasty, we are all sorta white, and we all have liked beer at some point, but tonight’s key realization was that each of us will represent a different age group. I, of course, will be the oldest and impart serious wisdom as we glide through the process.

Our diet and staying in the moment are important. We ate beans and rice like real runners and talked about how we planned to document the road to IMWI. Mark immediately stepped to the front and gave us carte blanche of his video studio and staff to produce a high end video, which was super cool and a major team-player move. I, on the other hand, squashed a dream by rejecting my basement as P90x headquarters.

What I like about what we have going is that everyone is kind of a “fuck-around,” but clearly respects that mountain in front of us. We joke about everything and anything, but when the “I-word” comes up, these cats realize process is king. This isn’t about ripping apart some race a year from now, it’s about building our mind, body, and soul. It’s about coming together and trusting the true energy of life to build us into stronger people. We’d all probably laugh about that line as well, but know it’s true. There’s magic in the pursuit of something that tests your will.

Our coach never did make it, but the good news is . . . he was being held hostage by a serious running operation at another location. As the oldest and wisest member of the this consortium, I am banking on the fact that “coach” accumulated even more wisdom tonight and the Fab 5 will be better off when he brings it to our next dinner table on Sunday.