And Now Its Time For The Feats of Strength

The only way I can test myself is unfortunately for my wife is by doing. Thus (I love that word) yesterday in my ever increasing attempts to get into a training rhythm and into my plan, I tested my strength the good 'ol fashioned way. Push and pull exercises. You know the kind push ups in all their glory and the  beast that goes only by the name of pull ups.

Gleefully I could still pump out 20 or so push ups, wide stance push ups, military push ups, balance push ups, pike push ups, and diamond push ups. It was nice to see that out of myself. I mean basically not using one arm for four months makes you weak. Its unavoidable.

Before the infection broke me I was able to do 15-20 pull ups on a regular basis. Today in the feats of strength I easily mustered on my best round  a mighty 3. Yeah...not so good. So the biceps and pecs good. The triceps, deltoids and lats very, very bad.

0 to 50 in so many ways. Que sera, sera.

Is Someone Trying to Tell Me Something

Amazon.com came yesterday. I had been for warned of this. They were supposedly bearing a gift for me from my wife. Since I had undertaken this pseudo-herculean task, Michelle had decided to help me educate myself with a book. Quite thoughtful. I always play a little game when mail comes. Citing the fact that its a federal offense to open other people's mail.

TITLE 18--CRIMES AND CRIMINAL PROCEDURE
PART I--CRIMES
CHAPTER 83--POSTAL SERVICE
Sec. 1702. Obstruction of correspondence
Whoever takes any letter, postal card, or package out of any post 
office or any authorized depository for mail matter, or from any letter 
or mail carrier, or which has been in any post office or authorized 
depository, or in the custody of any letter or mail carrier, before it 
has been delivered to the person to whom it was directed, with design to 
obstruct the correspondence, or to pry into the business or secrets of 
another, or opens, secretes, embezzles, or destroys the same, shall be 
fined under this title or imprisoned not more than five years, or both.
(June 25, 1948, ch. 645, 62 Stat. 778; Pub. L. 103-322, title XXXIII, 
Sec. 330016(1)(I), Sept. 13, 1994, 108 Stat. 2147.)
Historical and Revision Notes
Based on title 18, U.S.C., 1940 ed., Sec. 317 (Mar. 4, 1909, ch. 
321, Sec. 194, 35 Stat. 1125; Feb. 25, 1925, ch. 318, 43 Stat. 977; Aug. 
26, 1935, ch. 693, 49 Stat. 867; Aug. 7, 1939, ch. 557, 53 Stat. 1256).
Section 317 of said title 18, U.S.C., 1940 ed., was incorporated in 
this and section 1708 of this title.
Minor changes were made in phraseology.
Amendments
1994--Pub. L. 103-322 substituted ``fined under this title'' for ``fined not more than $2,000''.
From the U.S. Code Online via GPO Access
[www.gpoaccess.gov]
[Laws in effect as of January 3, 2007]
[CITE: 18USC1703]

Anyway, the package was addressed to her and so I waited until she got home for her to open it. She had a lot of books herself but she handed me a single book. I did not pay too much attention to it at first other than it was an ultrarunning book on Scott Jurek one of the greats of the sport. Michelle was working a bit and I decided let me take a gander at this book. It was titled, "Extreme Sports: Ultra Running with Scott Jurek" a Robbie Reader book.

I opened it up and went at it. Hmmmmmmmmm. 14pt type. Big, big pictures. Phonetic spelling of words. This is a children's book. All 32 pages and the glossary. It was a good read and fast. I learned a few things about Scott I had not known like he's a physical therapist which was inspired by his mother's multiple sclerosis and also that he's a vegan. That Robbie Reader knows how to cut to the chase.

Is she trying to tell me something?

The Plan

Many moons ago (say about twenty) I got a request from my wife to help her prep for starting up the machinery i.e. the baby making machinery and of course getting ready for a trip to Mexico. So what did I do? I started looking for a unique way for her and of course by default me to get into better shape. I had of course worked out and ran for as long as I an remember. Like most people you reach plateaus. You either get bored or your body just isn't responding. I had heard (word on the street) from a few people in the climbing community and the publications therein whom I was kinda friendly with about a guy Mark Twight who was rippin' new @$$holes on some badasses. What was he doing? Muscle confusion. Simple idea. Don't let your muscles get used to the work out thus alleviating the plateau.

About the same time I stumbled upon an infamous infomercial for P90X. Same principle, not as intense as Mark Twight's workouts. Perfect for Michelle and pretty damn good for me. Bought it and lo and behold it worked. That crazy bastard Tony Horton along with the running and the biking and yoga worked like magic. I got into, almost, the best shape of my life. Michelle did likewise. I think she also got the racing bug as talk of marathons and half marathons started popping out of her mouth.

It worked but I always wondered could I hang with Twight and the Gym Jones crew. Right about this time a little film called 300 was preparing to come out. I saw the actors and strangely enough it came to light that Twight and Gym Jones was responsible them. Its funny how the results of pain and suffering can be so inspiring. Now I had no delusions about dropping everything and heading out to Utah to train to then train. But I could do what I saw and train like I was there. It wasn't brain surgery, it was simple hard work. Real work, real workouts, real sweat. So, the new plan just like the older plan running (more miles though) 50+ a week, biking 100+ a week (its a wonderful lunch), yoga five times a week and the icing on the cake 3 ass kicking workouts with two core supplements thrown in. This will be interesting.

The Long & Winding Road

Technically its more straight and narrow. Very purpose driven. Running and training for running, is like a road out in Nevada that you can see down for five to ten miles and then it disappears in the distance but you know its still there and still going in the same direction. When you put yourself on a path to a goal the process seems at times a lot like being on a road like that. You know your starting point. You relatively know where you're going to end up and for the most part its a straight shot from now till then, but of course you never know what you will see along the way. I use the term 'see' very loosely since for me its both the ravaged carcass like last week or today a pulsing, pounding, puke inducing (almost) headache.

My intentions last night when Michelle and I turned in was to get a good 40+ winks and get up at my "normal" time of a little before 4:30 a.m. I was then going to put in a few miles. My hope was three, thus upping the ante from last week, and then workout in the gym and follow it up with some yoga. (I will go into my normal routine tomorrow and how it came to be what it was/is/will be.)

Needless to say the headache pissed on my campfire. No early morning run. A struggle through a half an hour on the bike and then an incomplete core workout. I would give another try to run about 11:30 a.m. having done as much work as I could stomach at the moment. Alas it was not meant to be. About two and one-half minutes in and it felt like someone was trying to pry my face off with the crowbar right behind my eye sockets.

I called my wife, deflated and was reminded of how far I need to travel to get back to being me because of how far the sickness took me away from that. We worked like dogs yesterday doing all the Spring flower planting stuff that had been postponed for weeks. It did not help that it was in the upper 80's low 90's in April in New York. Oh coal burning electric plants why do you torture us so. Anyway, after resigning myself to having a day shot I settled in to work and lo and behold it passed. The pain was gone, and I was out the door. Success.

On The Heels Of Bloodshed

Catchy title huh?!? Well its all true. Coming off of a conversation with one of my oldest and dearest friends last Sunday, Joe Heslin, I was shocked today to be in a similar but not exact situation to what he just experienced. Joe lives up in the hinterland (not really) of Vermont. He is an avid biker especially mountain bikes. Loves to make 'em, brake 'em and fix 'em. Skills that he acquired in the wide open spaces of Colorado. Being in a land of great trails Joe was out from work (vacation days are excellent are they not) on a great day last week. Riding a pretty common trail that he has rode countless times before. He stopped to catch hi breath near an ash or birch tree, whichever has the peeling bark we are familiar with. 

Relaxing for a bit he starts to look at the tree and realizes its covered with slick, crimsony, oily substance. It looks familiar but then it doesn't. He moves in a bit closer and recognition kicks in. Crimsony, dark very viscous...blood. Heaps and heaps of it all over this tree. Not too old since its not that umber brown of dried blood but not too fresh as its already thickening up and changing color. About this type the visual scan moves a bit higher and immediately catches the distinct four finger slashes of...wait for it...wait...yes, a bear. Not a small bear by the way. If its big enough to get slash marks up near chest level on a tree. About this time the inner alarm bells must have been sounding. As Joe relayed the story, out came the phone, called his wife to let her know where he was and that the proverbial scat was hitting the fan, and that he would be calling her in 5 minutes as soon as he was off the trail. Exit stage left. Now when he told me the story it was hilarious for both he and I but he made it quite clear that the moment of panic of where your standing and what had just happened there is wayyyyyyyyyyy creepy.

I say all that to say this. As promised earlier today I said I was going running. Around about 11:30 the day got slow so I figured let me put in some miles now before lunch. I mean I'm only running a few cause that's all I can right now. I take off down the trail which runs right in front of our house. Its perfect for walking, running and mountain biking. Its about 25 miles long. From Nyack south to the George Washington Bridge. It used to be train tracks. Anyway I set out for my run. Heading south down the path. Like a woman on fire I see a woman and her dog bolt past me like...well as if they are on fire. That was not jogging or even running. That, was RUNNING. Fear induced running. Immediately I think that our neighbors up the block Laura and Andrew recently told us that in the paper as well as "word on the street" is that there is one possibly two large cats loose in the area. Now from my limited knowledge the only real big cats in the U.S. are the mountain lion which is in the western states, the Bobcat not sure of their range, and of course the cougar which may or may not be in these parts.

I continue running and thinking. Deep in my thoughts I continue on. I get to the visual marker I know is about a mile in and turn around. By this time I think that woman must have spooked herself. There's nothing out here at this time. I begin heading back. I get about .25 miles back down the trail I start seeing little tufts of hair. Interesting I think. I keep running. More hair and what looks like skin. A bit farther and, bingo. Mangles skin from something fairly big like a deer and the coup d' grace an entire ribcage and a portion of the spine picked and/or licked clean. I slow down to get a better look. Its definitely not a fresh kill but its a big kill. That's when I got the little alarm...hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm big cat(s), deer carcass right on a well trafficked area. Needless to say I picked up the pace. It was real fear. I've felt that rock climbing or being in the presence of immense waves in Hawaii. This was more along the lines of intense concern. The pace quickened a bit more.

Before I knew it I was back home. Sweaty, panting and laughing at myself. No one wants to end up on "When Animals Attack." Don't act like you've never seen it.

Why Are People Mad At Me?!?

I guess a lot of people (well maybe just one) who invested a heaping helping of time nursing me back to health are a bit peeved at me. Its understandable kinda. I mean I don't know what I looked like during the four months I was under the heal of sickness. When it first occurred back on December 29, 2008 I went from having a bad headache to having a bit of nausea the next morning to go with the headache. This quickly deteriorated during the day and lo and behold I was passed out in the shower by the afternoon. I crawled into bed and waited, not able to move, for the next five hours or so for Michelle to get home. Michelle came in hysterical and once she saw my condition it got even worse. A trip to the ER at Nyack Hospital via the ambulance (I was unable to walk) and a few hours suffering while blood work and spinal taps were done left us with simply the knowledge of an infection. No name, no diagnosis and no real medication save for vicadin which of course made me loopy and also caused sever hallucinations (only could stand to take it twice).

The sufferfest was on and an out-of-town "nurse" came up. Between Michelle and the other "nurse" I started to get better. The nurse departed and I went downhill. Way, way, way downhill and ended up back in the ER. Everyone knows this part. The Second ER trip ended up being a hospital stay for five days and lo and behold the second 'nurse" came back up the weekend after I got out.

The "nurse" would work the day shift while Michelle went to work. It must have been hellish to see me wasting away and being as grumpy as a badger. (Are badgers really grumpy?) I was generally sick for four months. One month without the proper medication and 3 on IV antibiotics which Michelle administered each night. I must have tested both nurses and all the "security guards" (Mom P., Michael, Aunt Maria) that came over in between the hospital and the return of the day nurse but I think everyone understood. I was suffering tremendously physically and mentally it was a hard, hard road.

If you have ever run a long distance and began to hit a wall many people will tell you that at times in your head you begin to make deals with God. "If I can finish...," or "If the pain goes away...," etc. I will do or say or go whatever. It works, believe me and sometimes yo can change your life from it. I made a few deals with God. 95% I think he/she has held up his/her end and I am about at a 90% clip of staying true to my promises. The most important being not taking each day for granted. I was  prisoner (not by design) in my own house from December into April. Now that I am free, I have to run. I have to be in the dirt and the mud and experience each day. I felt like I was going to die on many occasions and my fears were verified by a few doctors/people. Life is short. I keep saying this to myself as well as to my wife Michelle. It the most important lesson I learned. No day should be taken for granted. Life unfolds in seconds not years. I was fine one minute and on deaths door the next.

I say all that to say this. I'm sorry to everyone who is PO'd at me for running or working out or working on the infamous wall or the garden etc. Life is short. I may have 8 seconds or 80 years left. I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of not living while I am here. By the way I'm going running again later today. ;) 

Down In The Dirt

I was back again today out in the great outdoors. It was great. You never know how much you miss something or someone until it or they are not around. If you live here in the northeast you know that there was a hella (yes I did live in California for a while) bad storm last night. We actually got marble sized hail. It sounded like we were under attack as my wife and I were awakened from a much needed sleep.

Anyway, trying to get back into the regime I was out for another 2 mile saunter today. In the muck and the mud. I used to run in virtually any kind of conditions if it fell on my running days. It felt good to be out there in the grime and the muck if only for a couple of miles.

I came to a few conclusions while out there. First, the goal I have set for myself is quite daunting but very doable. I know how I feel now and I know it only gets easier. The more you run or do anything the easier it gets. Your body understands what needs to be done and in certain people (like myself) the body craves it. Ask my wife I was quite crabby for the almost 8 months without my daily running fix. Logistically "the race" is uncharted territory and there is few ways to replicate it in its entirety during training. I am looking forward to the uncertainty and the journey from here to there etc.

Secondly and maybe most importantly I realized I really need new shoes. Its been since I guess August or September the last time I got some running shoes. Normally when I am training I buy two pairs of the same shoes and switch back and forth. I always have a dry pair and I don't wear them out as fast. With this endeavor in the back of my head I for the first time will need some trail running shoes. (Any advice from the peanut gallery is greatly appreciated.) My road shoe is and will always be Saucony. I have trusted them for more than a decade now with my feet. I went through a phase of trying different shoes. Some fell apart (Nike) others never quite fit well Asics and New Balance and then I found them. The Grid Hurricane. It was light a beacon in the running night. Now I have to go through the process with trail shoes. I think I need a special trip to Super Runners Store.

Thirdly I am super competitive with myself and others. In the slothful shape that I am as soon as I saw other runners I cranked it up a few miles per hour. Burned the lungs but its sweet music to the soul. I felt good running by some runners. I know the engine is rusty but it hasn't froze up yet.

Ouch!!!!!!

Have you ever ran a long way? Not a sprint, but running an adequate distance where you feel the lactic acid build up in your legs. Where your sides get stiches and your lungs are burning? Normally this happens of course during ultra's (never done one but I assume so), marathons (definitely felt it), halfs and of course shorter distances when you're out of shape, like me. My first run in almost eight months yesterday had me feeling like that. I mean two miles is really not that far but if you're not used to it it can put a hurtin' on you. The aftermath though I have always found to be a little bit (well a lot) worse. Not using muscles for an extended amount of time and then putting them through their paces in me at least leads to an aftermath of feeling about 85 to 90 years old. A little hunched over. That special little twinge in certain movements. Unpleasant but damn it you do know you're alive.

My wife was worried about my run yesterday. She suspected that I was going to do it (run that is). I had been champing at the bit for months and especially in the past week since I got the IV tube out of my arm from the 12 weeks of antibiotics I had to take for my good friend streptocuccus pneumoniae. Her worries were not for my muscles or lungs. Her attention was rather focused on my neck. The infection as I mentioned was in the bones of my neck. A particularly hazardous space since it holds the spinal cord and all the wondrous things its responsible for. The neurologist whom I spoke with, but the drugs have left the conversations a foggy memory, said a few times I believe that he doubted and hoped I would not have see he and his surgeon partner. That would mean things had gone very bad with the antibiotics during my hospital stay and they would have to cut me open from the front of my neck to get to the back (yeah didn't make sense to me either,) to drain the area, take a biopsy of the bone and perhaps remove the area and graph bone from somewhere else into the spot. It was quite an eventful five days in the hospital with the usual few good nurses, plethora of bad nurses, weird 2 a.m. wake-ups for vitals, visits from the aforementioned neurologist as well as our primary doctor and the infectious disease specialist who actually was the last word in treatment. If not for the previous two emergency room visits it might not have been so bad, but of course repeatedly visiting a hospital doesn't instill confidence in modern medicine nor in hospitals.

But, I did run two miles yesterday and today I hurt. Not my neck which is fine but rather the muscles that I used. Which is a good hurt and one that I sorely missed. We will see what tomorrow brings. I bet I have a few miles in me.

Have You Seen This Man?

Well, not exactly seen a man but seen the results on man from streptococcus pneumoniae? Its not a pretty sight albeit a common one (see mugshot to the left). Generally speaking streptococcus pneumonia is the walking pneumonia. 9 times out of 10 it causes pneumonia. In some worse cases it causes meningitis after that it gets really hairy and can give you osteomyelitis, septic arthritis, endocarditis, peritonitis, cellulitis and brain abscesses. I have been relatively healthy my entire life. Not only healthy but in pretty good shape if I might say. I take care of myself or at least I thought I did. 30 plus miles a week running about 50 miles on the bike, yoga and an exquisite vegetarian lifestyle.

Almost eight months ago though my life got flipped upside down. I was training for the Philadelphia marathon while my wife trained for the Philly half. Things were going well and then during a training run in the early morning along the Hudson River BLAMO!!! I stepped on some sort of nut. Not your average acorn but some monstrous handball size nut. Instant high ankle sprain and sprained knee. This was in early to mid September 2008. I was quite pissed but at least my wife was training and I decided I would concentrate on building a much needed retaining wall in our backyard while being her cheerleader. It was a "manly" project. You know the kind that you are proud to work on and even prouder when its done because you have fought mother nature, on a meager scale, and won. So, on one good leg with the help of my father Lou, my friends Moe, Matthew and Dave and of course my brother Michael (who worked liked a Spartan) we built a 47 foot long 4 feet high cast concrete block wall (Versa-lok...handy stuff). All the while I was going to orthopedists and physical therapists. Oh the joy and pain of it all.

So for the next two and half months I worked and suffered through PT biding my time for December or so when I could once again start training. The wall was completed (almost-a story for another blog). And winter set in. My knee and ankle were not healing. Probably the wall, I was told over and over again. OK it got cold and we couldn't finish now I could get back to training. The fates had other plans.

My wife and I had decided we would start trying to make a family. No offense to the cats but they aren't kids...no thumbs and they rarely answer us back. It was an exciting time after a minor setback. A new family on the horizon, I would be able to get back to one of my passions, and a major project under my belt as a homeowner. Then my not so nice friend made an appearance. I somehow contracted streptococcus pneumoniae. Being "special" I couldn't just get pneumonia like most people. No, my immune system had to fight and fight and the infection went from my lungs to my heart then through the bloodstream. Now if it would have been caught here in time it would have been fine but of course that wouldn't be dramatic enough. No, the infection settled into the bones of my neck and needless to say all hell broke loose. I won't go into all the details now (there's plenty of posts for that) but instead of me training in December I for the first time since September of 2008 ran today, April 20th, 2009. It was a hellish two miles of lung burning lactic acid muscle thrashing fun. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention I have a 50 mile race that I am committed to five months from now.

Stick with me this will be a very fun ride.