The Joe Show

I’ll post a full review shortly, but here’s my GPS data from Motionbased.com and my Garmin 305 GPS watch

Discus Thrower

Originally uploaded by technicolor

I have been pondering this for a few days now, and thought that this would make a good blog post. You see, now that I am running, everyone is calling me a ‘runner’, problem is I just don’t think of myself as a runner. I mean, runners are insane, they get up run, eat, run, crap, and they run.  They run great distances in punishing conditions, and for some reason enjoy it. I don’t think of myself in that crowd.

I also have a screen name on just about every online service imaginable of mtnbkr1, short for mountain biker. I chose this screen name back in college when you had to have a 7 character name, including a number. I was riding my mountain bike quite extensively then, and rather than switch after graduation, I simply stuck with it. Thing is, I don’t consider myself a mountain biker either. (Mostly because I don’t ride very often anymore – something else I am going to change). I also have been competing in motorcycle road racing with the AFM (come find me riding the #424 machine!) although I don’t consider myself a road racer either.

When people refer to those terms – runner, mountain biker, road racer – they seem mutually exclusive. If you are one, you can’t be another. I rejected all of those labels mostly because while I am good at those things, I am no Michael Phelps or Dean Karnasis. I guess where I am going with this is that I came to realize that I am none of these things, yet all of these things and more.

I am an Athlete.

Just a test, please ignore

My biggest fan

Originally uploaded by mtnbkr1

So – I ran my first half marathon today. Whop-de-freakin-do.

HELL YEAH Woop-de-freakin-do! I surprised even myself on this run. After getting up at o-dark-thirty to go run 13.1 (actually 13.27 according to my Garmin) with oh, about 10,000 of my closest friends, we started out along San Francisco’s Embaradero on what turned out to be a fabulous day for running. The first couple of miles we cruised out of the gates, running what would turn out to be my overall avg – about a 9:37 pace. We spot a lady who had pinned on what seemed like about 2 cases (!) of goo to her belt, and quickly took bets as to by which mile they would fall off. (I won, as we see her a short time  later running with all the goos she could carry in her hand.)  At Mile 4.5, we encounter our first – and only – supporter conga line.  I nudge my friend Chris, and we sprint down, slapping everyone in the hands (including the paws of a somewhat sexy tiger). About mile 5, my cohorts decided that their bladders had enough, and they pulled in to make a pitstop. Deciding that I didn’t need any of that sort of activity, I waved them goodbye and I kicked it up a notch to a 9:00 for the next mile, and paid for it promptly during mile 6, where I clocked my first 10+ mile (10:04). I think it was the excitement of getting to run on Golden Gate bridge that tempted me to turn it up.

I then settled back down and clocked a few short 9:00 miles, as we wound through the beautiful Presideo, coming down the backside on mile eleven we encountered a steep decline where I posted my fastest laptime – a smokin 8:45. I would rue this as miles 12 and 13 would eventually turn out to be my slowest, both coming in at 10:30.

As I came upon mile 13, I kept looking at my trusty Garmin, (which only hours before I figured out how to program to flash the last mile time as I completed it) and it said 13.0!  Great, only a tenth of a mile to go!  I started picking it up, the crowd standing in their warm blankets with coffee in hand watching barely clothed runners huff and puff through the park. I looked ahead, but there is no finish line! It must be around the next bend I tell myself, looking at my Garmin which is now beaming a cheerful 13.15. WTF?! Did I miss a turn? I hope to God that I didn’t inadvertently wind up on the full marathon course, else they are going to be picking up on dead body come around mile 15!

It’s mile 13.20 and finally there it is rising out of the San Francisco fog – the finish line! I grumble in my head obscenities directed at both my now trusty-with-a-healthy-dose-of-suspicion Garmin and the workers who setup the course, confident that there’s a conspiracy afoot just to mess with runners who are to fatigued to figure it all out.

I then hear – long before I see – my wife and daughter cheering scant yards in front of the finish line, giving me that extra boost I needed to put this madness to and end.

I stomp my foot squarely between the timing tracks carefully laid out on the ground and all of a sudden it hits me. I just ran the SF freaking half marathon, a full 13.1/13.27 miles (depending) and I feel good!**

Legs are fine, I am not puking, and it appears that all my facilities are working just fine. Sweet! My lack of serious training, my hip disorder, and my general scardy-cat instincts nonwithstanding, I finished this thing. Under my own power no less!

Would I race this thing again? As of today, no way. I don’t really feel like putting on my shoes truth be told. I am sure that will go away by morning, and that friends and family will cheer me on at the next race and support me as they did in this one.

FINAL STATS

Total Distance / Time -   13.1 miles / 2:07:41
Pace    9:37 avg
Best Mile 8:45
Calories: 1772

**When asked shortly after crossing the finish line if I felt like I could go on and finish the second half too I cheerfully replied with a F#$% No!

Foggy morning run to Golden Gate Bridge

Originally uploaded by digiTofu

So I am writing this on my way to SF to pick up my race pack for tomorrow’s half marathon. I chose this image as it sort of represents alot of things that I am feeling right now about race. There’s the bridge, that I’ll be running to an fro on and spending 5 intimate miles on, under and around. There’s the fog which aside from the blustery coldness (if you know me at all you know what a wimp I am when it comes to cold weather), represents the unknown. You can only see so far ahead, and there’s a mystery as to what is beyond the visible. Will I be able to finish? Will I have fun? Will I further injure myself? Will I ever, ever sign up for anything like this again?

Right now I am nursing an IT band ‘thing’ – I am not prepared to call it an injury at this point, but after tomorrow, I just may change my diagnosis. I have been stretching it and rolling it, poking and prodding it but like a stubborn child, it appears that it is going to do things it’s own way. I plan on taking some meds, so I can at least ignore it during the run, hopefully that will help. I am prepared to stop running during the race if it comes to that, but I’d really feel like a chump if I quit. I guess I’ll know more tomorrow!