DREAM

Last night I dreamed I was getting married to a woman I'd known for a long time. I lied to her about my age. I told her I was 25 when in fact I was only 20.

I guess she preferred older guys.

What Gerald Ford Didn't Do For Me

When Gerald Ford became President he announced to the country: "Your national nightmare is over." He said that like it was a good thing. Not for me. I LOVED Watergate. It showed Nixon and his people for just who they were...self involved, paranoid, screwed up thugs. I wanted Watergate to go on until Nixon was impeached, tossed out of office and his guys were all in jail.

So Nixon resigned and Ford pardoned him and that was that, except for all his people who did stand trial and did go to jail. But I wanted Nixon on trial too, and Ford came in and put a stop to it. And I didn't like it and I didn't like him.

Naturally I enjoyed it when Chevy Chase made fun of him on Saturday Night Life and imitated and exaggerated Ford's clumsiness, even though Ford was actually a gifted athlete. And I was happy when he screwed up in the presidential debates and fell far behind Carter in the polls. And I was delighted when he was voted out of office after only 2 years.

So what was it Ford didn't do for me?

Well, 3 years before he came to office, I was drafted. With the Vietnam War still going on I told my draft board that I had no intention of reporting for duty because I was a Consciencious Objector who was opposed to all wars. The draft board called me in for a meeting and I told them that if they didn't grant me CO status, I would either go to jail or flee the country. Much to my surprise, they okayed my demand. I was ordered to do civilian work for the country. Instead of running off to Canada I went to Kentucky and worked with poor Appalachan migrants. Alot of them were big Cincinatti Reds fans so when the Mets were in town we'd go across the Ohio River to nearby Cincinatti to the games.

Okay, so here's my main point. I was able to do my service trying to do good work for some awfully nice people in Kentucky and I got alot out of it. I didn't have to run off to Canada like so many other draft resisters like me did. I was one of the lucky ones.

And then along came Gerald Ford, a President I didn't admire at all. And the man who pardoned Nixon also pardoned the draft resisters and they all got to come home. Of course that pardon didn't apply to me. So Gerald Ford didn't do anything for me.

But it was sure nice what he did for them.

MY DILEMMA

I have no dilemma. That's a problem. I wanted one.

When my doctor told me on Tuesday that I wouldn't be well enough to run the Disney World Marathon next weekend, I didn't argue. I felt so lousy all I really wanted was to feel better. And when he explained that even if I did feel better I'd be at high risk of relapse if I ran, well, I couldn't argue with that, either.

Then I got home, took some medication (not sleep medication) and found that I could finally sleep, something I'd barely been able to do for the last few days. I woke up feeling better, almost human, actually. I no longer felt uncomfortable in any position and unable to stay still. I actually felt relaxed and comfy, reading the newspaper on the couch. Then I'd get drowzy, drift off and awaken an hour later thinking that maybe all I really needed was to sleep.

So I started to feel better. My head cleared enough to focus. I wasn't sneezing, blowing my nose or coughing constantly. Still there was congestion in my chest when I took a deep breath and that's no good. But all the improvements were making me hopefull. What if I slept more, healed more, breathed easy and got my energy back? What if the antibiotic really proved to be a wonder drug? And sometimes I'm a fast healer; what if I healed fast this time? I know I would think about the Marathon. I know I'd wonder if my doctor was being overly cautous. I know I'd think that maybe I could still do it and do it well. But I'd also think that maybe the risk for relapse was real. Of course I'd know that it was undoubtably real. But should I take the risk? But for what? After all, I could hardly expect myself to run the marathon well given all I was going through, my weakened state and the missed training. Could I? Because, on the other hand, I'd already put in plenty of training, I was definitely ready and, who knows, maybe I could pull it off!

So this is the dilemma I expected to have. The dilemma I WANTED to have. But only if I felt good enough to have it.

Alas, I don't.

While other things have improved I can feel that nothing much has changed with my breathing. I still get that funny, almost ticklish sensation in my chest (lungs, probably) when I take a deep breath. And running requires lots of oxygen and lots of breathing.

So there's no real dilemma. I spoke to my doctor this morning. He said that my slow recovery "was not atypical for the course." Though the lab work to determine whether I had pneumonia wasn't back, my blood chemistry had returned. Everything was fine. Though I obviously had an infection of some kind it is unlikely to be severe since that wasn't reflected by my blood levels.

That's at least reassuring. Because while I fantasize about a speedy recovery I also fear something serious.

Now I guess my dilemma is how to cope with all this inactivity. I haven't been to the office since Tuesday, I can't do anything active and it gets uncomfortable to talk to anyone at length. I've appreciated all the calls to see how I am, but the talk ratio I need is about 85% you to 15% me. That doesn't always happen.

I've played lots of Texas Hold-em on line poker and done quite well, winning several thousand dollars. In one tournament I finished 4th out of over 2600 participants and won $6500. All play money! But at least I'm getting some competition.

I read the papers and magazines and books. I watch TV. I've discovered HBO on demand and further discovered that I can figure out how to use it. First seasons of Ali G and Curb Your Enthusiasm. Not bad to be confined with that!

Still, it's depressing. I don't have my marathon to aim for or my dilemma to wrestle with. And it really bothers me that this thing in my chest doesn't seem to be improving. I guess that makes me feel that I'm not progressing. A week ago I had the marathon to progress for. I had all the things that go with it...checking on the long range weather, considering what I'd take to refuel along the way, thinking about my goals and what the right initial race pace would be.... All the things I love to dwell upon!

Now, nothing. That feels a little empty. A little sad. This competition was central to my focus and a priority. Then, just like that, it's gone. All I can do now is concentrate on getting better. But for that my body seems to have a mind of its own.

I'M SICK

Maybe there was a reason I felt so bad after Saturday's long run.

I always feel bad after long runs. Tired, achy, stiff. Did this feel a little worse? Maybe. So I rested and expected things to feel better. They didn't. It kept feeling worse.

Congestion, coughing, sore throat. It was difficult to sleep. Then sniffling and sneazing. I bought some cold medication which gave only a bit of relief. Monday night was the worst. I couldn't sleep at all. By 3 AM I thought that I'd lost the mechanism to fall asleep.

It was an easy decision not to run Tuesday morning. I went to work. Fortunately I had a light day and there were several cancellations. When clients did come, I had tremendous difficulty focusing on what they were saying. One young woman, in for her very first session, talked so softly that I could hardly hear her and I barely had the energy to concentrate on what she was saying.

I was SO pleased to get the message that my last appointment of the night wasn't coming. It meant I could leave much earlier. It was only when I got home that I remembered that I had a client right before him. My mind had gone woozy.

This was a rotten cold. Could it be more? I'd had a flu shot, but still.... My temperature had been normal when I'd taken it over the weekend. I took it again, expecting to see the marker at just under 98.6, my typical level. Then I could feel reassured. Nope. 99. I waited a bit and took it again. 99.5. Uh, oh. I tried it again. 100! Now I was worried that it was going up and up. I must be really sick, but just how bad? How high would my temperature go?

It leveled at 100.

The next morning I went to my doctor. I felt pretty awful. "The worst thing about feeling so sick," he said, "is feeling so sick. But we've got to get you well soon, don't we?" he added. "You've got a marathon soon."

I felt a flash of hope. Could I feel better quickly? "It's a week from Sunday," I replied.

"You're not going to make it," he replied, shaking my hope. "You'll feel better in a few days and you'll probably feel perfect by the marathon, but you'll be too weak to finish it and you'll risk a relapse."

Well, I wasn't going to comment because he hadn't even examined me. I'm sure I looked terrible, but let's see what the exam showed. After all, I'd taken my temperature before leaving home and it was back to normal.

He took my temperature. 99! Just coming to the appointment had given me a low grade fever.

The rest of the exam showed some congestion indicating either bronchitis or walking pneumonia. An x-ray showed a small amoung of lung congestion which made him decide to give me an antibiotic. Only the blood work will give a definitive diagnosis.

In addition to the antibiotic, he gave me some medication for the nasal congestion, something for the cough and recommended a humidifier, lots of Vitamin C and fluids. It felt nice to be taken care of.

When I got home (after buying the humidifier) I was pleased to discover that I'd regained my ability to fall asleep. I slept all afternoon on the couch. In bed for the night, I slept until 10 AM. I'm feeling much better now.

But it's upsetting to think about the marathon. All that work for nothing? On the other hand, this will allow me to get back more quickly to the shorter distance races I prefer. And then I feel so conflicted. I really miss the tension, the hope, the expectant feelings that comes with knowing that there is a big race soon. The race is at the center of my Disney World vacation. It makes me jumpy just to think of being there without taking part in the race. I'll feel like such an outsider to all the excitement.

So I start to think that I'm already feeling alot better! Perhaps if I keep improving, I could do a little run on Saturday and, if that's okay, my planned 10 miler for Sunday and if that's still okay, I'll be good to go for the marathon? I mean, this is a taper week anyway, so I didn't lose that much from my training. Doctors tend to be overly cautous afterall....

It's odd. Feeling as I do right now, I wouldn't even go to the doctor. In fact, I'd be debating whether or not to do my planned run. It's half mile intervals. If I hadn't been to the doctor yesterday I might compromise and decide to run but just an easy run without the speed intervals.

I could do it. But that would be crazy. Compulsive. Like running is the most important thing in the world and doing Disney is the most important thing about running. So I tell myself to settle down, relax and just get myself better.

And then I feel some depression coming on. This marathon is not the most important thing in the world to me but it has been one of my central focuses for months. So it's hard just to give it up. And in a way it feels arbitrary. If instead of "no way," my doctor had said "well, let's see how you feel next week, but I think it's possible..." it would all be different, wouldn't it?

No, of course not. The problem isn't in what he said but in what's going on inside me and the real risk that doing a marathon would lead to a relapse.

I recognize this. It's just hard to accept it. And when I do, it's a little depressing.

I Hate Long Running

I've been told that long runs are very important. They increase aerobic capacity. They strengthen the heart. They help lower resting heart rate to a level that would alarm any doctor who didn't know that you were a runner. They are the most important thing to do in training for a marathon.

Here I am training for the DisneyWorld Marathon, now only 2 weeks away. I want to run it as fast as I can and beat last year's time which was/is my best ever. To do that, I have to long run. So you'd think that I might have some affection for the work out that can help me do what I want to do.

And yesterday's 20 miler went well. I ran it faster than recent long runs, I didn't injure myself, chafe myself or even raise a blister and, "having run" it (see yesterday's entry) I am fully prepared for Disney. Furthermore, it is over and I can bask in the accomplishment.

It was also an interesting run. The first 12 miles were on the flats along the Hudson River. At W.60th Street I crossed over to Central Park where I did 7 hilly miles. Thus I prepared myself for Disney's flat course with the level Hudson River miles and toughened myself beyond Disney with the Park's ups and downs. In addition, I ran over 2 minutes faster than 3 weeks ago when I negotiated the same route.

Nevertheless, I am not happy. I feel no affection for my achievement. I don't care that I am now fully prepared for Disney. After the 20 miles I sat on a bench and coughed for 10 minutes, spitting up half the Chocolate Gu I took at mile 16 and, apparently, didn't fully digest. Now I feel sore, achey, out of sorts and not myself. My lower back is stiff, my knees hurt and I'm walking slowly and gingerly. I don't want to get out of my easy chair. My main thought about the Disney Marathon is that after running the same distance that I did yesterday I will still have 6.2 more miles of torture to go.

It's a good thing that I'm not running today. Or tomorrow. And that my planned mileage for this coming week is much lower than what I did in these last 7 days. I've begun to taper for the race. Tapering could not come at a better time. I've pushed my body beyond the point that it wanted to stop. Now I'm paying.

I hate the long run.

Going Long This Morning

I intend to go long this morning and run 20 miles. I'm having a cup of coffee and a cinamin raisin bagel right now to fuel up in preparation. I'm also drinking the coffee and eating the bagel to delay getting started.

Long runs can be SO intimidating!

The DisneyWorld Marathon is in 2 weeks. I want to do really well and today's 20 miler will be my third since last month's New York Marathon. I've never done 3 such long runs in this stretch of time. Doing it will surely (hopefully!) make me totally ready for a terrific Disney performance. So you can see why it's important for me to get out there.

So why am I procrastinating?

Though I like to run very much, what I REALLY like is to have run. Then I can bask in my accomplishment, enjoy my breakfast and write down all my run statistics. If I did well I can compare my stats to similar runs and bask in feeling how much better and faster I'm becoming.

But it just takes SO long to "have run" when the planned distance is so far. And it can get boring and even painful to be out there for such a long time. And sometimes I can raise an uncomfortable blister or stub my toenail if it hasn't been cut short recently, or rub the skin on my thigh raw or... And today it's gloomy and cloudy and rainy outside and that's not so nice. And...

...And any more of this talk and I'll never get out there. What's wrong with me? I'm about to run my third 20 miler since the NY Marathon in preperation for Disney for the first time ever! A monumental achievement that can be reflected on happily many times after I've done it no matter how chafed some of my skin may become. One that can ready me for an even better achievement at Disney!!!!

Wow, how can I be more motivated than this? Bagel and coffee, done! See ya later.

Eight Miles In The Dark

Yesterday I ran in the dark. I didn't mean to. I didn't really want to. But I started my 8 mile run after 4 PM so I knew that I was going to. It's not really my fault because night comes so ridiculously early this time of year. The day ends before 5 o'clock? Crazy! I'd file an official protest if I knew which official was in charge of this sort of thing.

Anyway, it wasn't my fault that yesterday I ran in the dark, but, then again, I knew it was going to happen when I started so (relatively) late. I ran west to Henry Hudson Park and then south past children's play grounds, picnic benches, soccor fields, tennis courts, a batting cage and basketball courts as the sun set into New Jersey. It was a chilly evening...I mean late afternoon...and the number of people and other runners, not that many to begin with, progressively thinned as the sun light faded. Streetlamps came on but some didn't and there were stretches of course that had none so there were long patches of near darkness.

Five and a half miles into the run I was near Stuyvesant High School by Chambers Street, heading back uptown. By now it was completely dark except for the sporadic lamps and I was often completely alone. I told myself to stay relaxed but I could feel myself tense. Wasn't this a little dangerous? I'd see figures up ahead and they seemed ominous in the gloom. Why were they looking around as though checking to see that no one else was around as I approached? Well, I don't know why but it didn't really matter since they just went about their business as I ran past.

So again I told myself to relax. Relaxing was easier to do when I reached the soccor field area which was pretty well lit and had a number of non-ominous looking people standing, chatting, nearby. On past, however, there was a dimly lit, gloomy stretch. No one was there. That made it safe. Unless someone was lurking, half hidden. I turned my head from side to side, searching. My pace quickened. Actually, I'd been running faster ever since the sun disappeared. If there were bad guys around they'd have to be quick to catch me. But there wasn't. No on was lurking. None that I could see, at least.

In fact, there were no bad guys anywhere along my course. Or at least none that acted bad. There were a few women pushing strollers, 1 skater, several runners and at least 2 walkers wearing ipods. A couple of times I was frightened by strange shadows that seemed to be following me, but they turned out to be mine. No bad guys at all. Perhaps I'd been too speedy for them? s When I turned east off Henry Hudson Park at 13th Street to run the last mile home there were many motor vehicles to contend with that could cause serious harm, especially if they couldn't see me very well. But I knew just how to handle that threat. I ran up on the sidewalks.

I finished the run surrounded by the complete late night darkness of 5:25 PM. I was fine, of course, but it wasn't your typical 8 mile afternoon run. In the dark, it was sure more exciting!

Encouraging Tempo

My tempo run this morning was encouraging. It just took me a while to realize that it was.

A tempo run (for those who don't know it)is a fairly vigorous workout in which a portion (say 3 miles like today's)is run at a speed just a little slower than 10 kilometer race pace. Since I ran a 10K only 9 days ago at an average of 7:20 per mile (pretty disappointing, frankly), my tempo pace today should be 7:30 or even a little slower.

But I'll have nothing to do with that pace!

I want to see if I've stopped being slow. And running a tempo at a pace determined by my recent slow 10K would not do it for me. I want to know if I can run it faster than my other tempo workouts.

So that's what I set out to do. But things immediately got tricky. I run on a course way over on the West Side of Manhattan called Henry Hudson Park. It is an up and back course along the Hudson River and surrounded by new development of parks and play areas. Usually I run against the wind for the first part of the tempo miles then turn around and run with it. As tired as I am in the second half, I appreciate the late help.

Today it was the opposite. Running with the wind at the start my times were good for the first mile and a half (I record splits every half mile...one of the things I like about this course), but, of course, it was wind aided. I struggled on the final part but still knew I did fairly well thru the end of mile two and for the half mile after that. The final half mile, however, was very difficult and I felt myself slow up. I pushed myself to increase the pace then slowed again. It was tough maintaining to the end and I was very disappointed when I looked at my watch for that last half mile split!

I slowly jogged the mile and a half home feeling a bit deflated. Usually I pick up the pace for that last half mile of tempo no matter how tired I'm feeling. Today I couldn't, just when I was hoping to prove that I was again fast! How disappointing! But then I thought that my miles 1 and 2 times were probably quicker than my corresponding miles in earlier tempo runs. Maybe that would balance out my slower third mile. Maybe it would end up pretty much even which, while disappointing since I want to be faster, would at least not be so bad.

At home with my bagel, coffee, chocolate soy milk and fruit breakfast I began writing down my half mile splits: 3:35 and 3:42 for a 7:17 first mile;
3:41 and 3:41 for a 7:21 second mile.

These were fine and better than my last few runs. But now my lousy last half mile will take away all the good: 3:41 and 3:32 for a 7:13 third mile.

3:31? My final half mile was 3:31? But that was my fastest. Why did I think it was my slowest? The 7:13 final mile was also my fastest, and it had been run into the wind. Why did I think it had been my slowest?

Somehow my muddled mind, fearful of seeing a time that confirmed my slowness, had seen the 3:32, computed it to a just over 7:00 per mile pace and concluded that was slow which it would have been had I been trying to run 5K instead of roughly 10K pace. Wow! I think I made myself see what I feared would be there rather than what actually was!

My times average out to 7:17, my fastest tempo run in months. Last week I'd averaged 8 seconds per mile slower, and THAT had been my quickest in months! And, to top it all off, my average heart rate of 151 was the same as it was last time so I hadn't expended more energy (at least by this measure) to run faster.

So maybe I'm not so slow??

Perhaps I'm Getting Slower

Perhaps I'm getting slower. Runningwise, that is. Or maybe I'm not. It's tricky and difficult to say for sure. But I'm definitely getting older and increasing slowness is supposed to be related to increasing age. And since some of my race times have been slower recently it could mean that I'm getting older and slower instead of just, you know, older.

Of course, some of my recent race times have actually been faster. Like my New York Marathon time was my fastest ever, 10 minutes faster than 2005. But race day weather conditions were better this year, I ran a more sensible early pace and I did an improved job of taking in calories. So, while my TIME was faster, that may simply mean that I was luckier and smarter but not necessarily faster. See how tricky this can be?

Also, I ran the Joe K 10K last weekend and I was a minute slower than 2005. Now THAT slower performance could definitely prove that I have aged badly and am now a slower runner, unlike my FASTER NY Marathon time which evidently means nothing. Or it could be that my speedier effort in this year's Marathon requires a longer recovery period and that's why my Joe K time suffered. Or perhaps it was silly of me to do that 4 mile race 2 weeks after the Marathon and that's why things are sluggish now?

Look, give me more time and I'll think of more options. But, nevertheless, I'm still afraid that I've gotten slower.

And my slowness started when I was doing so well! I ran my fastest 10K ever (43:22) on April 2, breaking the magical 7 minute per mile barrier for the first time at that distance, making me feel SO PROUD!! Then, only a week later, I hit my quickest 4 mile race of the entire 21st Century (27:19), a time I beat only once before in 1999. And these 2 wonderful races came shortly after I did my fastest Brooklyn Half Marathon as well as another good 4-miler. Oh, yes, I almost forgot. All this also follows my fastest Marathon, January's DisneyWorld challenge...3:52:49, the first time I made the trip in under 4 hours.

So, through April, the ravages of time racing somehow through my body were only, it seems, serving to make me faster. But how long could that last?

Then I was hit by a series of injuries. A calf pull in training, a worse one when I tried to race too soon afterwards and then a nasty hamstring pull when, still too soon, I played in my team's opening softball game of the season when we were in danger of forfeiting if I didn't give it a try.

It took a long time to recover, including at least 2 false starts in which I had to abort runs after about 2 minutes because of pain. I missed practically all of May and,thereafter, my milage was way down, off by about 6 miles per week as compared to last year.

I know what you're thinking, of course. You're thinking that my times are slower (where they've been slower) most likely because of the layoff and reduced mileage. Yes, that could be right...

...But then again, it could be that I've become slower! Since I peaked in April. How can I know?

Well, I'll do a 3 mile tempo run tomorrow and compare it to similar ones from days gone by. That'll tell me something. And, of course, there's the DisneyWorld Marathon less than 3 weeks away. Now, THAT should REALLY make everything clear...

...Unless the weather is very different than last time.

Fun And Games

Fun And Games was the name of my sports column in my college newspaper, the Stonybrook Statesmen. Now it's the name of my blog. Sports competition has always been a theme in my life. It's given me lots of fun and heart ache. It's been a way of meeting people and getting to know people. It's given a focus to my life and lots of excitement and passion. It's been a way of valuing myself and giving myself identity. It's been an ongoing, consistent part of me...so that's what I intend to blog about.

And other things too if they occur to me!

Well, we'll see what comes next....