I am a masochist. I guess though that anyone who is into endurance sports is part masochist though. How else to explain why people push themselves through such great lengths to complete a grueling endurance event. The pain that they receive brings to them a certain level of pleasure, especially when the complete the event that they set out to do. That is a good pain.

These days though, I am experiencing a bad pain. The pain in my shins is really becoming a problem. It hasn’t stopped me from running yet, but the pain is almost always present. I am trying hard to convince myself that what I am feeling is pleasure. I need to rewire my mind so that I view this discomfit (understatement) that I am feeling in my shins should be relished the same way as I relish the feel of muscle soreness after a good hard workout. Only difference is that this soreness never goes away. I get to experience the pleasure of it all the time. I guess I am taking my masochism to a new level. I just don’t give a fuck this time around. I’ve let shin pain sideline me for several races in my life and I am fed up with it. I will command my body to do what my mind wants it to do regardless of the way my body feels about it. I will keep taking another running step until the point comes that my leg collapses because it is no longer able to bear my weight. Maybe then I’ll go for the amputation and run with one of those new fangled artificial running legs.

Pain is a very interesting thing. Some people are addicted to it like a drug and actively seek it out. For me, part of it is how good it feels once the pain is gone. The sense of relief and release stimulates endorphins in me and makes me feel good. I enjoy knowing that I got myself to the point of such hurt. What is pain anyway but the remembrance of it? Once it is gone, it’s over. It’s like it never really happened.

I’ve wondered what some people would do if presented with the opportunity to become filthy rich if they endured the worst horrific and agonizing pain they could imagine for 24 hours. Would they do it? Probably not, but then add into the equation that they would have no recollection of what they went through over the 24 hour period. Once the 24 hours is up, it would be like they fell asleep and just woke up with no memory of what they went through. Would it have ever really happened? Would you do it then?

Maybe I’ll do some permanent damage to myself and always have a pain in my leg. I wonder though if every time I feel the pain, I’ll look back and smile over the achievements I accomplished that caused what I am feeling now. Will it have been worth it? Right now I believe it will have been.

So anyway, getting back to the training I’ve done this week, it’s been pretty uneventful so far. Monday I did an easy one hour spin on my bike after I got home from work. I worked up a nice sweat, but didn’t push myself all that hard. Tuesday night was a good workout. I went out with my friend Larry and we did two loops of a virtually deserted Prospect Park. The park was so empty that it felt more like 2am, rather than 7pm. We talked about various shit, but especially the VT100 from the time he did it. I am amazed at how much recollection he has of the event. To help me remember it and to keep my friends informed of my progress, I plan on doing an Utterz every 10 miles or so. I should be very interesting to go back and hear how I sounded as the race progressed.

Wednesday night I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I was supposed to swim, but that is such a pain in the ass. I decided to skip the pool and spin on my bike for a while instead. My coach tells me it doesn’t matter what I do, that Wednesday s and Fridays are just recovery. I have to say that as of right now, training for a 100 mile running race has been a lot easier than training for an Ironman. But tell me to say that again when I start doing back to back 40 miles on the weekends.

Tonight I downed 3 ibuprofin and took my aching shins out for an 8 mile run. At first my shins were hurting and with every step it was as if someone was tapping the insides of my shins with a hammer. However, as the run progress, the pain from the hammer tapping diminished and I was able to resume a normal running pace. I was able to space out during the run and get myself into that runner’s zone where things just start to flow. As I slowly progress towards 8 miles, I began to get confidence that I will indeed be able to run the VT100. I have seriously doubted it from the way my shins have been feeling, but if how they feel now is the worse they will get, I will be able to handle the pain. It’s already becoming something I am accustomed to feeling all of the time, sort of like being accustomed to always have tired legs when you climb up a flight of stairs. I finished these 8 miles strong and filled with the confidence that I will have what it takes come this July. Does a mid-week run get any better than that?

For today’s Manhattan Half Marathon, I decided to get to Central Park by way of running from Brooklyn. The race started at 8:30am so I needed to get an early start if I was going to make it on time. As usual, it took me forever to get ready and I made it out the door with not much time to spare. I wound up walking in and out of my house a few times before I actually got going, because I couldn’t decide how much clothes to wear. It was pretty cold and I wanted to make sure I had enough clothes since in essence I was doing a journey run; that is I was running away from my house and I would only have the things I was willing to carry with me.

As usual I headed down Flatbush Avenue. This led me past Junior’s Restaurant a veritable Brooklyn Institution. I recently sent a cheesecake from there to a friend in California who returned the favor by sending me a couple of bottles of wine that he makes himself. It promises to be a fair and equitable exchange. I had no time to fuel up on cheesecake though and I kept heading for the Manhattan Bridge.

It was an overcast day, cold and crisp and the air had the smell of snow; a perfect winter running day. I know I didn’t have time for it, but I decided to snap a picture while crossing the Manhattan Bridge. I told a friend I would send photos via my phone as I made my progress into the city. Once over the Manhattan Bridge, I made my way up the Bowery, past where the famous Punk Rock club CBGB’s used to be. I felt like stopping and taking more pictures as my journey progressed, but I realized I was not going to have enough time to make it to the race start. When I ran up 23rd Street, about 6.5 miles into my run, I decided I better take a cab if I was going to make it on time.

I cabbed it up to the NYRR’s club on 89th, got my race number and then ran back down to the race start. This gave me 7 miles of running before the race. I had a minute to snap a picture in the crowd before the race began and then put my camera phone away as the race was about to begin.

I wish I could say that I felt all warmed up and great and ran with the grace and ease of a gazelle. In actuality, my legs felt sluggish and slightly painful. I keep waiting for my legs to feel good again and for me to run with ease. It just feels like it has been so long since the last time I ran freely and easily. At one point I just felt like dropping out. I couldn’t do that though as I thought of those waiting and expecting me to cross the finish line. I wasn’t injured and I wasn’t sick, so I carried on. I relied on the many mental tricks I have to get through the race.

Pushing through the pain is such a mental game. Getting yourself to go on when you don’t feel as though you can, takes mental toughness and fortitude. Yes there can be such exquisite pleasure in pain, knowing that you got yourself to that point, but able to keep moving on. What do you do though when you think you can’t go on? How do you push yourself to keep going at that point? What happens when the mental tricks used up and you are down to your bare soul?

I never want to get to the point where I have nothing left in my bag of tricks and I give up. It would leave a bad taste it my mouth. Getting to that point would mean that I will quit. I need to load my mind with the ammunition it needs to push me through the darkest and toughest times. I am always looking at the example of others to learn how they are able to push through difficult circumstances. By reading about the experiences of others, I can draw on their examples to help me carry on. My mind is open to learning from the experiences of many a varied source; from the descriptions of racing from Steve Prefontaine, to the family that deals with tragedy or impossible circumstances to the sexual deviant who completely devotes themselves to a master or mistress. There is a never ending supply of people pushing through pain and difficulty to draw upon, that would make pushing through a simple running race look like a piece of cake. It’s like, if they can do that, I can certainly run these next few miles.

So in any event I persevered through the race. I even started to feel better as I reached miles 11 and 12 of the race (about 18/19 miles total running) and was able to increase my pace towards the end. I ran 20 miles total for the day and I was happy to finish even though I set a PW (Personal Worst – 1:57:26) for the half marathon distance. That’s ok. I am not going for speed these days, I am going for distance. Slow and steady will get me to my destination.