It was a long day. Where do I even begin with it? I suppose I should start with waking up an hour too early, since the only clock in my house that I forget to set back was my watch which serves and my alarm. When I woke, I had a migraine headache and felt like shit. I considered just rolling over and going back to sleep. I wasn’t even sure if I could to the full distance of the marathon and at this moment I was wondering what the point was of going if I wasn’t sure I could go the distance. The fact that I awoke feeling terrible was an affirmation that I should stay in bed. I got up though and after some Excedrin and a bowl of cereal I started to feel better and got on with the process of getting ready. I hadn’t packed the night before and I needed to get moving if I was to make the bus to the marathon start.

I was already 5 minutes late by the time I finally left my house. I had to walk about a half mile to get to the bus and I was halfway there when I realized I forgot my HR monitor strap at home. I ran back to get it, but was now very late for the bus. I tried to call Larry to tell the bus organizer I was coming and not to leave without me, but my cell phone crapped out. Fortunately, my wife was amenable to driving me to the bus location. I just made it. The bus doors were about to close just as I got out of my car.

The ride to the start was quick and uneventful. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon and we walked into the Marathon Village. All of the runners were separated into three color groups; Orange, Green and Blue. Larry and I made our way to the Blue staging area. It was definitely the low rent area. Where the orange and green had lots of grass to sit down upon, the blue area was mostly paved asphalt with a few patches of grass which served as parking lot medians. We staked a claim on a small patch of grass and began the business of waiting the 4 hours before the start.

I don’t know what the organizers were thinking in regards to staging the luggage trucks. Thousands upon thousands of runners had to make their way in and out of a narrow gap to get to and from the trucks. It took over an hour to move about 50 yards necessary for reaching your truck and getting back out. It was the biggest cluster fuck I’ve ever seen at a race. I think Mary Wittenburg of the NYRR is going to get a lot of email complaining about the situation. It was a very dangerous situation and I am glad no one yelled at “Bomb” otherwise there would have been a lot of dead or maimed marathoners from trying to get away.

Larry and I did finally make it out of there and we headed to the start. Even this was poorly organized. In past years it was possible to just walk onto the highway leading up to the Verrazano Bridge, but this year we almost didn’t get out of the village when the gun went off. In any event, I was happy to be running. Running over the VZ is always a thrill. This year for some reason the bridge wasn’t bouncing to the cadence of the runners. That was such an odd feeling. They must have done something to the bridge to eliminate that. In any event we set out at a leisurely 9 minute mile pace. I was feeling ok at first and felt like I could hold the pace for the entire race.

When I started to approach the 6 mile mark, I began the lookout for my family. I grossly overestimated the time that I would arrive (I thought it was at the 4 mile mark) and hoped my wife and kids would still be there. I was afraid that they would have thought they missed me and would have gone home. When I passed the block where I expected, but didn’t see them, I felt very depressed. I was looking forward to seeing them and giving my kids a hug. To my surprise they were just 2 blocks further down the course and I was very surprised and extremely happy to see them.

The race was pretty uneventful for the next 7 – 8 miles. I slapped a lot of kids hands as I ran by and took in the pleasure of running in one of the world’s largest marathons (is it the largest?). Just before the 59th Street Bridge our friend Willy had jumped into the race to run the final 11 miles with us. We were both supposed to run home with Larry along with several other friends, but that was not to be. By the time I got off the bridge I began to fade fast. My 9 minute miles turned into 10’s, followed by 11’s, 12’s, 13’s, 14’s and finally 16 minutes for the last two miles.

The last 10 miles up First Avenue, into the Bronx and back to the finish were torture. The thing I hated most about it was that I couldn’t predict what my next mile would be. There is something comforting in being able to predict your splits. It gives you an idea how much time you have left and how long the suffering will last. With each mile coming slower than the previous, I had no idea how long it would eventually take me. All I knew was that I was going to finish it, even if I had to crawl across the finish line.

The entire race was the complete opposite of last year’s. In 2006, I ran with Larry until the 59th Street Bridge when I told him I was too cold and needed to speed up. I had left him and passed 1000’s and 1000’s of runners as I started to run 7:30’s. This year, Larry left me on the 59th Street Bridge and 1000’s and 1000’s of runners passed me to the finish line. I wasn’t sure how I was feeling over the way this was turning out. On the one hand, I figured a measure of pride for even doing the race since I only did two small runs and two bike workouts in the past 1.5 months. I am completely detrained and probably should not have chosen to do a marathon as my first real run after recovering from injury. I think I should be proud of the fact that I was even able to do it. On the other hand I was feeling a bit embarrassed. This marathon was going to be my personal worst by far. It was hard to stomach the fact that I once ran 3:13 in a marathon and had aspirations of breaking 3 hours. I was like all those newbie marathoners who went out too fast and had to walk to the finish. It’s not right that our physiology takes us a long time to build up fitness, but becomes so totally detrained in such a short period of time.

After doing my death shuffle across the finish line, I was faced with an even larger and slower moving crowd to claim my baggage. It took over an hour to finally make my way to the UPS Truck that held my bag. I was feeling horribly nauseous and just wanted to lie down. I considered faking a collapse onto the ground so I could have the medics rush me out of the crowd. I was pretty close to doing that in fact, possibly not even because I was faking. After I finally got my bag, I sat on the ground to change into some dry clothes. As I’ve said before, the post race food at the NYC Marathon is without a doubt the worst you will encounter. Nothing would even be better so you don’t wind up carrying a bag of junk.

Me and Larry waiting for marathon start

Tomorrow I am doing the NYC Marathon. I am as unprepared for this race as when I walked into a Calculus exam in college, having not studied or understanding any of the subject matter. I think I got 10 out of a hundred. I am hoping though that I will get more than 10 miles and my marathon grade will be a full 26.2. I think I am only doing this race, because I don’t want to sit out of my third NYC Marathon because of shin splints. Also, this marathon will make my 3rd consecutive year and my 4th NYC Marathon in total. I’d like to get to the point where I have enough NYC Marathons under my belt so that I do not have to worry about qualifying for it each year.

To get over the shin splints I think I’ve only ran about 3 times in the past 1.5 months. I am praying that the weather will be much warmer tomorrow with a lot less wind. I will be running this marathon slow which means the cold and wind will make it torturous.

This year I intend to run the total race with my friend Larry. It is his intention to run the 12 miles home after the marathon in celebration of his 25th consecutive running and his 50th birthday. I told him I would do this run with him, but I suppose I’ll have to see how I feel after the marathon. I already don’t think I am being smart by running a marathon off of no training and a painful shin, but if I feel somewhat ok, I think I’ll make the day into an ultramarathon. I know what my coach will say about this last statement – That I am questioning whether I can even do 26.2, but here I am talking about making it an ultra. I just like to keep my options open and by thinking of making it an ultra, 26.2 miles will be relatively easy. I am just being optimistic.

I crossed a line this past Sunday. There was a NYRR race scheduled, a Marathon Qualifier which I needed to do if I am to get 9 races and I completely blew it off. I sat in my darkened living room at 5:30am and knew that if I didn’t get going I would miss the race and gone would be the opportunity to guarantee entry into the 2008 marathon. It was the first time that I purposely said screw it, I don’t need to do this. I crossed the line to the dark side.

Several hours later, after the sun came up and revealed a beautiful day, I got annoyed at myself for letting that happen. So for the first time in months, I dusted off my bike trainer and road in my basement for 2 hours. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something. I could tell by my elevated HR, compared to the effort I was putting in, that I’ve gotten completely out of shape in the month since I injured my leg and decided to take a training vacation. It was so depressing, it almost made me stop. But stopping would not be a way to get back in shape.

Yesterday, I went to the NYSC for the first time since joining over a month ago to do some strength training exercises. I used to be a regular in the club and a couple of the personal trainers recognized me and made a big deal about saying hello. I did an easy workout since I didn’t want to push too hard. I knew if I did, I’d be suffering pretty badly from DOMS the next day. It will take a few trips to the gym before my body gets used to it. After working out, I once again was feeling depressed as I realized how much strength I’ve lost over the past few months. You would think I am a virtual cripple by the way I am describing how weak I feel compared to when I was really in shape. I wish the workout had rejuvenated me and gave me a positive feeling. I guess I’ll start feeling better as the tightness in my waistband lessens and I start getting back in shape.

So far since I crossed the line, I am doing ok. For the first time in months, I woke up early enough to do a morning workout – One hour on the trainer. I easily kept my HR in the aerobic and my mind occupied by playing online poker and Full Tilt poker.

I guess I shouldn’t have felt so bad in regards to my previous post. My friend went ahead and got a matching offer for the person I offered the job to. He accepted the counter. Oh well.

I am feeling like a piece of shit right now. I just screwed a friend of mine, someone I’ve been close to for over 13 years. Granted I did not intentionally set out to screw him, but that is the end result none the less. I used to work at the company where my friend is now. When I left that company, I went to their biggest competitor. There was a programmer there who I would have liked to hire at my new job, but I didn’t since I knew it would screw my friend.

Recently though, I was led to believe that this programmer was no longer reporting to my friend. I decided that if that was the case, then I had no reason not to pursue him. It wasn’t until I finished negotiations with this person, that he stated that my friend would be very pissed off when he told him. Evidently my friend was still responsible for the area in which this programmer worked. I was surprised and dismayed when I heard this. Needless to say my friend called me this morning to tell me what a low thing I did. I couldn’t argue with him. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t speak to me again.

One of the things that were going through my mind when I decided to go after this programmer was how it would reflect badly on the manager to whom I thought he was reporting. I felt that my friend was somehow put in a lesser position by not directly managing the team the team that this programmer was a part of and by taking the programmer it would show what would happen by not trusting in my friend’s ability to run this team. Basically, to get the programmer, I had to make an offer that he would be foolish to turn down. Otherwise I don’t think there would have been any way in hell that he would have come over to me. My friend is a great manager, extremely competent, hard working and one of the best people you could ever know. I am deeply saddened to know that I may have ruined this friendship or somehow this will reflect badly on him.

I am thinking of getting hypnosis. My drive to maintain any sort of exercise routine is seriously waning. I recognize what is happening to me. I fear I am at the start of a downward spiral to becoming out of shape and overweight again. I don’t want it to happen, but I am almost helpless in my effort to fight it. I have been through this before and know the signs. I am thinking that hypnosis can help me get back on course.

I supposed I am just depressed and frustrated that I can’t run. Everything was going so well and then my leg suddenly fails me. All I feel like doing is running. I really don’t have a desire to bike and swim right now. I went for a ride yesterday and within 30 minutes I was getting pretty bored. Granted I was just going around Prospect Park for the billionth time, but usually I can stay focused for more than 30 minutes. All I managed to ride was a total of 17 miles. Pathetic. To top it off, I am so out of bike shape, that they way I struggled to do those miles was even further depressing. I’ve got to get out of this state of mind. Hypnosis may be the key.

For the longest time Ironman was my mistress. She would give back to me as much as I put into her. It was a great relationship. One that I found fulfilling and rewarding. Lately though, I’ve decided to try out a new girl. Her name is Ultrarunning. She is a lot harder on the body than Ironman and I am afraid she has broken me down. My left leg is toast. Shin splints have gotten so bad that it is now painful to just walk around. Going up and down stairs is a killer.

I ignored this herpes sore of a problem for as long as I could. I decided that the problem has gone far enough when I found myself grimacing within the first half mile of a run the other night. I can’t stand this problem. It is just something that won’t go away. Just like herpes. Maybe I can get rid of the problem through amputation. I participated in a spirited discussion the other night about whether a below the knee amputee has an unfair advantage over someone with a full leg. The reason being that the artificial leg is lighter and more aerodynamic. If I go that route, I will be sure to keep my leg and not lose it like the fellow in one of my recent blog postings.

I suppose I should start riding my bike and swimming more often. I just can’t get myself to go. I fear that I am starting to get fat and lazy again. My clothes are starting to get tight on me. Now that I can’t run, I just want to stuff my face while sitting on the couch and watching TV. That’s such an easy thing to do. It’s amazing how I have resisted that lure for so long.