When I was in college (late 80s/early 90s) and began using computers on a daily basis, I used the same password1 for everything: SanFrancisco. I had visited many times and had always loved that city.
Fast forward a few years to the late 90s, and after starting a digital agency named Ethos Interactive, my girlfriend, my business partner, and one of our designers, went to San Francisco for an interactive conference and I fell in love with the city again, this time with my future wife.
A couple years later (1998), after our beautiful outdoor wedding, my freshly minted wife and I left Ohio for our honeymoon. Destination? San Francisco.
Earlier this summer, I posted a picture of a run past the Bay Bridge, and yes, it was a bit of foreshadowing.
I was in San Francisco to meet with a company about a potential opportunity that turned into an offer. That offer sparked a ton of thinking and late night conversations with my wife. Is this the right thing for our boys? Is this the right time for our family? Is this the right move for my career? In the end, we decided we were all-in. And that will lead to a big change for me and my family. Later this month, I’ll join Extractable, a data-driven digital agency, in San Francisco as their CTO. After many years of wanting to be there, we are making it real, and moving to the Bay Area.
As for running, I’ve decided to punt on the Columbus Marathon this fall as I don’t think it will make sense (financially) to fly back to Ohio to run a marathon. I also think that I’ll have plenty of higher priorities to attend to over the coming weeks— you know, finding a house, finding a school system, selling a house, etc.— and peak marathon training just can’t be near the top. I do plan to continue to train, and if the stars align and I can get some decent training in, I will run the California International Marathon, a race I had planned to run two years ago.
1Note to identity thieves: I no longer use that password.
So, it’s been a while since I’ve written about my running. Let’s get started with a long overdue post.
About 10 days after running the Columbus Marathon last fall, I had to get the hernia repair surgery that I had put off in order to run the marathon. That surgery went well, but it also brought with it an edict from the doctors: no running for a month. At the time, that seemed hard to swallow, but looking back, the time away did me a world of good. And perhaps even better was the admonishment to come back slowly. While I did a bit of base building and a lot of cross-training, I didn’t really start training in earnest again until mid-January.
The first part of this training cycle was a little tough. I had gained a bit of weight, and lost some fitness in my time away, so the first few weeks felt harder than I expected/remembered. But sure enough, by February, I was starting to feel a little better, a little faster each day. The brutal winter in Ohio (record snowfalls and record low temperatures) kept me inside on the treadmill way more than I had ever had to in previous winters. In the past, I’d retreat indoors just once or twice for the whole winter, but this year it seemed to be once or twice a week. In late February, while running after a fresh snowfall, I came down on a hidden chunk of ice and rolled my left ankle pretty badly. When it swelled quickly (and colorfully), I had it XRAY’d, but thankfully, no break. The winter training was leading up to the Capital City Half Marathon on May 3 in Columbus, Ohio. Along the way, I also ran the Heart Mini Marathon, a 15K, on March 16th, where I set a 12:24 PR for that distance on a bitterly cold, windy day. Training for Cap City continued and I managed to keep healthy and strong throughout, so that time off at the end of last year helped a ton.
The Capital City Half went very well. My younger son came to race to cheer me on which was a ton of fun for us. The temperature for race day was perfect, and the mostly overcast skies helped keep it comfortable as well. A spot of rain here and there, but nothing major at all. In the end I ran a 1:36:56 which was a PR of about a minute and half and spot on to where I wanted to be.
After the half, I took it easy for a week, then went back to base building with some easy runs. My goal is still to run a BQ of 3:25:00 at the Columbus Marathon this October, so that training started in earnest in June.
Earlier this month, I ran a 10K on July 4th, the same race I had run in 2012. Once again, my younger son came to cheer for me tell me to get my butt moving. I ran a solid race and finished in 45:46 which was good for 2 minute PR. The next weekend, I did a 5K race to support a great cause. It was the first 5K I had run since 2009, the first year I started running, so a PR was a foregone conclusion. The great part about that race was getting to run with my nephew, Danny, whom I know could have run an even faster race if he wouldn’t have had me to drag around the course. Still, lots of fun and an 8:42 PR.
With a strong year behind me so far, I have the rest of the summer to put in the hard work toward my marathon goal in the fall.
Before I talk about my race, let me just say that the Columbus Marathon does an amazing job with this race. I’ve run bigger marathons, smaller marathons, destination marathons and even a Canadian marathon, but I’ve never run a better marathon than Columbus. Excellent pre-race communications, a nice expo, well organized corrals, fast, fun, interesting course and outstanding crowd support the whole way. If you haven’t run it, put it on your list, they do a first class job all around.
I went into this race with the goal of running a Boston qualifying time (3:25:00), but that didn’t happen today (3:39:26). Still, as we got into our car after the race, I told my wife, “This wasn’t my fastest race, but it is the one I am most proud of. In all of my marathons, I have never had to call on more grit and determination than I did today.”
The truth of the matter is that I just fell apart physically. The marathon will find any physical weaknesses and shove them the hell in your face. While laughing maniacally. And although I did everything in my power to remain positive in the lead-up to Columbus, I knew it would have to be a miraculous day for me to run a BQ. While still dealing with left hip issues caused by a spine problem, I found out late this summer that I also have a hernia that needs to be repaired. Maybe either one of those issues on its own would have been manageable, but asking the marathon to turn a blind eye to both is foolhardy. I knew going in that I wasn’t as strong or as fit as I was when I ran Glass City last spring, but I wanted to try anyway.
The day started off great: no troubles at all getting to my corral. While it was pretty chilly (mid 30s) during the wait, the time passed quickly and soon enough, the gun went off. My wife, her mom, and our two sons came to the race to cheer me on, and I got to see them for the first time just after mile 2. My wife told me the entire first two miles had thrown-away clothes strewn along the road as the runners shed the warm gear they needed for the corrals. The miles ticked on through 6 and I did a decent job keeping the pace right where it should be: 8:04, 7:48, 7:31, 7:44, 7:36, 7:36. I saw my crew again at mile 7, and still, nothing but smiles. And, I was still feeling good the next time I heard them cheer, at 14. Miles 7-13: 7:45, 7:42, 7:34, 7:44, 7:59, 8:07, 7:47.
I held onto BQ pace up through mile 19 (7:46, 7:46, 7:50, 7:57, 7:50, 7:51), just after running through Ohio State’s football stadium, known locally as the Horseshoe. After climbing a sharp incline as you exit the stadium, I started to get intense pains in my left hip. Very reminiscent of Houston earlier this year. After a while, it seemed to loosen up briefly, so I made an effort to catch back up to the 3:25 pace group. As the pain in my left hip started to come back, I started to try to compensate with my right leg, which promptly brought the pain train to the area where the hernia is (right groin, TMI). Now I was one big compensatory mess. As I continued on and watched the 3:25 pace group fade into the distance, the pain in my hip made its way to my hamstring, then eventually my knee. I ended up having to stop a few times to try to get my left leg working again, but there was nothing to do but slow down. The final 6 miles were nothing but gritting my teeth and trying to maintain some semblance of a pace. But the pain never abated. By the time I met up with everyone in the family reunion area, I had to have help just to stay standing.
So, while I won’t be heading to Boston as soon as I’d like, I know I can keep my head up about this race. I earned every inch. And that’s why it’s the race I’m most proud of.
The surgery to repair the hernia is already scheduled for the end of this month, so I will be forced to take some time away from running, which is for the best. Even getting off that hip for a little bit may help. I know that by the time Thanksgiving comes around, I will be back to hitting the roads again, doing what I love to do. And for that, I am grateful, and very happy.
Tomorrow morning, I’ll toe the line for the Air Force Half Marathon at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. As has been my habit over the past couple of years, I am running a half marathon just about a month before the full marathon A-race for the year. While I certainly enjoy training, it’s nice to put on a bib every now and then and see where my fitness is under race conditions. The results of the race (assuming decent weather) allow me to adjust the final month of my training to work on any weaknesses I find.
My current PR in a half is 1:38:29, scored at last year’s Indianapolis Monumental, and I think I can beat that this year. My plan is to go out a little conservatively at 7:40s for the first two miles, then drop under 7:30s up through mile 10. With a 5K left to run, I hope to be able to drop down to 7:20 or better, depending on how I’m feeling.
Clearly, it’s been a while since I’ve written. I have to admit, though, that I’m a bit shocked to see that it’s been since the beginning of May, and here it is midway through August.
In that last post, I excitedly reported that I was cleared to get back to running, as much or as little as I wanted. I remember the huge feeling of relief that I would not be in any kind of catastrophic danger if I decided to get back out on the roads doing what I love to do. I’m still thankful for that freedom.
Even with the go-ahead from the doctor, my summer did not go as planned. My plan was to target a late summer marathon with the hopes of running a Boston-qualifying time so that I could line up in Hopkinton next April. However, each time I tried to do any type of work at speeds faster than my 10K pace, my hip and/or hamstring would just sear with pain. So the summer proceeded with multiple fits and starts until I just knew a summer marathon was not in the cards. As July rolled around, I slowly built my milage back up to a solid base so that I could begin working in earnest toward the Columbus Marathon in October. After finally being smart enough to take it slow for a while, I’m back to being able to do speed workouts without doubling over in pain. Admittedly, I still feel hip soreness the day after hard, fast workouts, but it’s definitely manageable, and I am starting to see real progress in my fitness and pace.
This just hasn’t been my year, medically. After spending the first part of the year trying to figure out what was up with my hip, then finally discovering a long-undetected spine issue, the summer hasn’t been a whole lot better (though far less serious). About a year ago, I finally grew tired of a spot of dermatofibroma on my chest that had been there for many years. After starting to run in 2009, the area grew more and more irritated from repeated running shirt friction, so I decided to have it removed. One very minor surgery later, it was gone. However, this summer, it grew back. It was a combination of scar tissue from the first one, along with regrowth of the fibroma, but it was getting more and more irritated, so back to the surgeon I went. Again, a very minor surgery, but just a bit of a nuisance when all I wanted to do was get back to running consistently. About a week after that surgery, I was out running again and got a quick, sharp pain in my … umhhh … lower abdomen. Strange pains abound when you run a lot, so I thought nothing of it. A few days later, while at work, I got up to leave my office for a meeting, and it was like I had been hit by lightning. Not so good. And then the swelling started. Hello again, doctor. Damn it: inguinal hernia. Yep, I am falling apart and starting to get maladies of the far more aged than me. The good news is that, once again, as long as I can put up with the pain, I can put off doing anything about this until after the marathon.
So, I’ve decided to quit running, buy some white pants, white shoes, move to Boca and start hitting the early bird special.
A little over a year ago, when I finished the Glass City Marathon in Toledo, I remember going through a bunch of emotions. Pride for having accomplished what I set out to do: run a sub 3:30 marathon, joy for having my family there with me, exhaustion from the effort, and yes, relief for being done.
Today I’m going through a bunch of emotions as well, but for a very different reason. Today Michelle and I visited with a top neurosurgeon to get his input on what I should or shouldn’t do about my recently discovered spine problem. After hearing different advice from different doctors along the way, it felt wonderful to finally feel like I was getting clear direction.
The conversation started with agreement with the previous doctors regarding both the diagnosis (spondylolisthesis) and the cause (pars defects from micro fractures when I was but a lad).
He disagreed with the orthopedic spine doctor who said that if I did have the surgery that I’d never run again. His clinic has as many patients who go back to running and are fine as they do patients who end up needing to come back for additional surgeries. Basically, every year after the surgery, if you stay active, the percentages go up by 4-5% that additional surgery will be needed. The recommendation to avoid surgery for now was partly based on not wanting to get that particular clock ticking.
We asked if I’d be putting myself at higher risk for something catastrophic to happen if I continue running (even running hard) and he said absolutely not. There’s nothing in the literature or in his experience that indicates that at all. He said I’m basically just going to slowly get worse, whether I run or not. Running hard may exacerbate the pain, but it won’t lead to paralysis or anything else horrible.
Eventually I’m going to need to get this fused, but doing it now before it affects my everyday life would be a mistake. They have no way of predicting when I’ll get to that point, but he said it could be as many as twenty years or as few as a couple.
His suggestion was that we revisit this once a year to see how things are going. Since I had both an X-ray and an MRI, they now have a baseline and will be able to see if things are changing and we can decide what, if anything, we’re going to do.
In the mean time, as long as I can live with the pain, I don’t have any restrictions on what I’m allowed to do. So I’ve decided to take up BASE jumping and on weekends I’ll be wrestling in the WWF.
Actually, after talking with Michele about it, I’ve decided to pick up where I left off and work toward a Boston qualification time. I don’t know yet whether I’ll still aim at trying to get in to the 2014 race or not, but I’m not going to give up on the dream of running Boston. If I get to the peak of training and the pain becomes unbearable, I’ll simply back off and accept what I can do.
So today’s emotions are:
Relief: I can continue running and continue to pursue the Boston dream.
Excitement and fear: I get to go back to training, which is great, but I’m a little afraid I’ve lost a step or two.
Gratitude: that I have a wife who sticks by me through all of the ups and downs of this life-long saga.
I love the Boston Marathon. Since I started running a few years ago, I’ve watched the race every year as some of the most inspiring athletes in the world take on the course from Hopkinton to Boston. This year was no different. Monday morning was spent watching the elites take the course, then closely followed by hammering away at my refresh button while I virtually “watched” a number of friends run the course.
Through 10K, @madz2325 and @calebmasland are exactly where they want to be. 6:52 and 5:46 respectively.
Right after I saw a couple of my fastest friends finish up, I had to leave the office for a few hours to head to a meeting. When I returned to the office late Monday afternoon, a colleague immediately asked if I’d heard.
“Did I hear what?”
“There’s been a bombing at the finish line of the marathon.”
My day immediately turned from looking up finish times to finding out if my friends and their families were all spared. Thankfully, no one I know was injured in the blasts, despite a few friends being very close. At the same time, I started getting phone calls, tweets and Facebook posts from friends and family concerned that I might have been there. Even a tiny bit of humor mixed in with concern came from brother-in-law.
“I am glad you are too slow for the Boston Marathon!”
The aftermath of these bombings confirmed exactly what I’ve always thought about terrorists.
Terrorists, whether we’re talking about Al-Qaeda or Timothy McVey, fundamentally misunderstand concepts most human beings get intuitively.
A symbol is not the same thing as the concept it represents.
If you melt down a wedding ring, it does not mean the marriage is over. If you burn a bible, faith and religion carry on. If you bomb a government building, the government survives. Even if you drive a plane into a symbol of freedom and capitalism, liberty and financial freedom live on.
Setting bombs off at the worldwide symbol of endurance, perseverance and the height of athletic competition will not stop runners. It will not stop the families of runners from supporting them through months of training. It will not stop a young boy from greeting his mom or dad after a race with “I’m so proud of you.”
You, who attack symbols, will never win. Endurance will not stop. Wanting something greater for yourself will not stop. Hard work will not stop. Not now, not ever.
If, after a lot of hard work, I get the chance to run Boston, I will be there in a heartbeat.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a decent, solid week of running. Since the Houston Marathon in January, I’ve been spending too much time searching around for medical advice, then getting differing views on whether or not I should be running. It’s really taken a toll on my early spring. I’ve got one more opinion to get (a neurosurgeon on May 7), then I can really get a plan in place, so until then, I’ll take the 26 miles I’ve run this week and put them in the bank.
Since I’m supposed to keep my pace down, I’ve decided to use the time to focus on my running form a bit more. At the moment, I’m working on two things:
Getting my cadence up
Keeping my shoulders and neck nice and relaxed
I plan to put in some hard work on core strength as well. Hopefully the investments I’m putting in now while I can’t run with intensity will pay off down the road if I can get back to serious training.
After getting a downright depressing course of action from the orthopaedic doctor I had been seeing for my hip, I was referred to the spine specialist in the same sports medicine practice. And there, I got some tentatively good news.
The orthopaedic spine guy agreed with his colleague’s diagnosis, but not with the ‘what to do.’ For the record, here’s the formal diagnosis in all of its hypermedical detail. This time I took notes:
They believe the damage was caused by chronic pars defects which probably happened in my teen years. This is pretty typical for athletes who participate in activities that require repeated, quick extension of the back. Think of a defensive lineman in football who, as soon as the ball is snapped, immediately stands up. Or better yet, think of a kid of who loved to play baseball and from the time he was eight years old until he graduated high school played 95% of his innings as a catcher. That was me: Stand up. Crouch. Stand up. Crouch. Rinse and repeat several bajillion times.
The tentative good news is that the spine specialist’s advice was to avoid surgery for the time being and that I could keep running, except slow down — the pain only really comes on strong when I run at higher paces. He told me that if I have surgery now, it’ll guarantee that I’ll never run again. And even if I don’t run, but I do stay active, I’ll just be back for additional surgeries later. Fusing the disks will stabilize that area, but any force put on the back would just be transferred to the disks above and then they’d begin to deteriorate. Also, he said that surgery today for someone at my fitness level would actually result in a tougher recovery than the average bear since much of the recovery involves repairing the muscle they’d need to cut to do the surgery. When asked if surgery would be riskier sometime down the line (if necessary), and he said no, not in my case. His explanation was that the typical increase in risk as people age is usually due to people’s poor health unrelated to the surgery, like obesity, high blood pressure, smoking … none of which I have, thankfully. My wife asked him if I’m putting myself at risk for anything catastrophic by continuing to run and he assured us that I am not.
So, for time being, I’m getting back to running a bit while I wait to get a second opinion from a neurosurgeon. That should happen sometime in the next couple of weeks. While I do hope that I get the same advice, I want to make sure I have all of the best thinking before I start training in earnest.
In the meant time I’m keeping the pace nice and leisurely.