Happy spring, indeed

At least the bad stuff rolls in after I get my shitty 22-miler in the books. Long story short, if I were to be a homicide victim, the ideal death would be strangulation by my IT bands. They were inflamed at 18 miles, dipped in concrete by 19, so really I ran 19 miles and walked the last three. Somehow I'll get through the marathon in 27 days -- I always do. It'll just be as painful as every one before.

Anyway, here's what's going down in the Cowboy State today.

URGENT - WINTER WEATHER MESSAGE
NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE CHEYENNE WY
434 AM MDT MON MAR 23 2009

A MAJOR EARLY SPRING STORM WILL PRODUCE SIGNIFICANT SNOWFALL
AND STRONG WINDS TO THE AREA TODAY AND TONIGHT
.A INTENSE SPRING STORM SYSTEM WILL MOVE ACROSS THE CENTRAL
ROCKIES TODAY AND THEN EAST AND OVER THE CENTRAL PLAINS
STATES BY SUNRISE TUESDAY MORNING.  THE STORM SYSTEM WILL
PRODUCE SIGNIFICANT SNOWFALL AND STRONG NORTHERLY WINDS
OVER SOUTHEAST WYOMING AND THE WESTERN NEBRASKA PANHANDLE
THROUGH TONIGHT. BLIZZARD CONDITIONS WILL RESULT OVER
MUCH OF THAT AREA CREATING
HAZARDOUS TRAVEL.
WYZ059-060-064>070-232200-
/O.CON.KCYS.BZ.W.0002.090323T1200Z-090324T1200Z/
CONVERSE-NIOBRARA-NORTH LARAMIE RANGE-LARAMIE VALLEY-
LARAMIE RANGE-PLATTE-GOSHEN-CHEYENNE FOOTHILLS-PINE BLUFFS-
INCLUDING THE CITIES OF...DOUGLAS...GLENROCK...LUSK...GARRETT...
LARAMIE...BUFORD...HORSE CREEK...WHEATLAND...GUERNSEY...
TORRINGTON...CHEYENNE...PINE BLUFFS
434 AM MDT MON MAR 23 2009

BLIZZARD WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT UNTIL 6 AM MDT TUESDAY
A BLIZZARD WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT UNTIL 6 AM MDT TUESDAY.
SNOW WILL SPREAD OVER ALL OF SOUTHEAST WYOMING BY 8 AM AND
WILL CONTINUE THROUGH TONIGHT. THE SNOW WILL BE HEAVY AT
TIMES TODAY AND EARLY TONIGHT. ACCUMULATIONS OF 12 TO 18
INCHES IN EAST CENTRAL WYOMING WITH UP TO 20 INCHES IN
THE NORTHERN LARAMIE RANGE. FIVE TO 10 INCHES OF SNOW WILL
ACCUMULATE OVER THE REST OF SOUTHEAST WYOMING BY SUNRISE
TUESDAY. ALSO...NORTH WINDS WILL BE GUSTING 45 TO 55 MPH
WHICH WHEN COMBINED WITH THE HEAVY SNOW WILL CREATE BLIZZARD
CONDITIONS ACROSS THE AREA.
A BLIZZARD WARNING MEANS SEVERE WINTER WEATHER CONDITIONS ARE
EXPECTED OR OCCURRING. FALLING AND BLOWING SNOW WITH STRONG
WINDS AND POOR VISIBILITIES ARE LIKELY. THIS WILL LEAD TO
WHITEOUT CONDITIONS...MAKING TRAVEL EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.
DO NOT TRAVEL. IF YOU MUST...HAVE A WINTER SURVIVAL KIT WITH
YOU. IF YOU GET STRANDED...STAY WITH YOUR VEHICLE. FOR
SPECIFIC ROAD AND TRAVEL CONDITIONS IN WYOMING AND NEBRASKA
...PLEASE DIAL 5 1 1.

False alarm

All it took was a nixed 14-miler, a tight wrap from an Ace bandage, and some well-placed ice.

The tendons on both sides of my left ankle are fine. I ran 4 miles Monday without pain, and have had no issues in my runs since. Tomorrow is the big test, a 22-miler out into one of the canyons, as much of it on the dirt and gravel shoulder as I can manage.

Today's 10-miler still taxed my IT bands, however, and I'm thinking that might be my biggest stumbling block to achieving my goals. There's no way I can run 7:27 per mile for 26.2 miles if my thighs feel like they've been dipped in concrete after 14, 16, 18 miles at that pace. Nor will I be able to run a 3:30 marathon off the bike in the same situation. Is this just something I'll get used to, that feeling that my thighs will explode and I'll look like Hank Hill's dad for the rest of my life if I take one more stride?

• So there is a negative to all this. I spent $18 more this month on groceries than I did last month. On the one hand, I do enjoy eating whatever I want knowing full well the "calories burned" column on my heart monitor will read deep into triple digits, and possibly quadruple digits. On the other hand, I'd rather not eat myself out of my apartment, or out of my car. I do have taxes to pay and other financial commitments to meet, so I'd rather Safeway not end up as my biggest beneficiary. 

Hey, I enjoy shoveling food into my face as much as any American. At the same time nothing in this world keeps me awake nights like my finances, and the rumbling in my stomach might as well be the sound of a cash register like at the beginning of Pink Floyd's "Money." Feed the beast!

• This is my favorite time of year sports-wise, though it sucks to not have any way of pulling in a TV signal. Nor can I sit at the computer and watch my bracket crumble in real time. It's probably a good thing, then, that I will finish a 52-mile week this weekend, rather than having planted my skinny posterior on the futon watching the tall student-athletes make their universities and inveterate gamblers untold sums of money that they'll never see. 

Pain

This in no way trivializes the pain other people might be feeling. Like one friend facing down guillotine of corporate bullshit that could end her career. Or the one who recently gave birth nine weeks early. Or my niece, whose first lacrosse season might have ended before it started thanks to a stress fracture.

Anyway, running has been pain-free so far, which is good because it's taken more energy than I thought it should to get my body used to the reduced amount of oxygen. There's been a blister here, a toenail gash (and bloody sock) there, but I've stayed healthy.

Until yesterday.

Toward the end of a flat nine-miler, a sharp pain shot up and down my left leg, starting near my ankle. First though: Stress fracture. Twenty-five years of running now taking its toll. I tried stretching it out (though what you can do to stretch out a bone remains a mystery), slowed down, walked a bit, hoped like crazy... nothing worked. It still hurt. 

The nine-miler became a seven-and-a-half miler, and I stumbled home for an ice pack. I sat on the couch with my left foot propped up on an exercise ball and a Zip-loc bag of ice. I tried to read Sports Illustrated but with five weeks to go before my marathon, I pondered the possibilities. 

This is a place I haven't had pain before. The kicking motion in the water gives my ankles ridiculous flexibility, and the only time I've even sprained it (through years and years of team sports) was when I rolled it during a pickup basketball game in college. With the pain I had I wondered if how much Advil it would take to get through a marathon, or if maybe I should withdraw now and get myself healed before starting to train for Ironman in June.

My ankle sufficiently numbed, I went through the rest of my day. That night, as I walked downtown to meet some friends for drinks, I jogged a little and noticed something I hadn't before. Rather than a sting when my foot hit the ground, it was when my foot left the ground and cocked back. That means it's a tendon or ligament issue. Deep breath. Sigh of relief.

That means I can rest it, ice it, compress it (with a tight wrap from an ace bandage) elevate it and call it good. I bailed on a 14-miler today and while I hate to do that, I've got a 22-miler on Sunday that I consider far more critical. I'll run four easy miles tomorrow and see what happens. And I'll determine how to proceed from there.

My HRM says I'm dead, or the first 20-miler

For some reason I'm still leery of going real long in Laramie, partly because of the wind but mostly because of the altitude. Maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill but I'd rather not try to run long with my lungs struggling for every last breath — at least not yet. 

So even though Laramie reported a high in the upper 50s on Sunday (and with nary a wind gust approaching 20 mph), I still headed down to Fort Collins to run 20 miles on the Poudre and Spring Creek Trails. I set off at what I thought was a leisurely, long run pace but it felt quick for some reason. But I stayed with it.

Now, why do I not have specifics as to the nature of the pace? There are no mile markers on either path. And my heart rate monitor didn't work. I licked it, I dumped water on it, then I dumped some more water on it, and still the display on my watch read "---." So my $200 watch is now... a watch. 

I ran. And I completely drank all of four Fuel Belt bottles of stuff — 12 ounces of water, 12 ounces of Fierce Grape Gatorade. Got to see some of the same places I did when I ran there a few weeks back. That's how I can honestly say I ran 20 miles. Still, I just stopped and walked when my watch read 3 hours. That's all my legs would take. My IT bands started revolting at 2:30, and then they twisted like hair ribbons after my last fuel stop at 2:45. So I decided I'd walk the last little bit if it meant I could extend my legs to reach the pedals of my car.

Oh yeah, genius that I am, I forgot to pack Sport Stick in my bag. That's the stuff that will allow my thighs rub together without creating enough friction to start a fire. By the last 15 minutes I was running bowlegged, so you can imagine what it felt like when I applied the first of three coats of aloe that night. Lessen (ow) learned.

I'm OK with the run but I need to figure out how to push out that pain threshold. Or maybe just get my legs used to running great distances. Training probably would do me some good. It's warmed up now so I have no excuses for blowing off workouts. I have 48 days left as of today.

OT: The Rotund Lady sings for the Rocky Mountain News

This is not the first newspaper to close since I graduated from Syracuse with degrees in newspaper and psychology. The Atlanta Journal-Constitution was part of a merger. The Syracuse Herald-Journal was merged as well. And all this is to say nothing of the thousands of newspaper workers who have lost their jobs in the past several years.

I'll spare you my feelings on the corporate bitches who wanted nothing but to turn a profit off the backs of ill-paid professionals who poured their hearts and souls into their occupations. And don't get me started on the mouthbreathers who blame the media for everything from McCain losing the election to furthering the "gay agenda" (whatever the hell that is) to the absence of prayer in schools. This is what the economy has wrought. Dear readers, watch your backs.

Dealing with the cold

Just for the record, I will remind my three readers that I was perfectly aware of the weather patterns of the high plains before I moved here. That doesn't mean it hasn't been a hard adjustment.

When I lived in Cheyenne, my seasons ended nicely in the fall, just as my work was firing up. And when I was ready to resume working out, I had mid-winter trips to San Diego, Las Vegas, Fort Worth, Albuquerque, etc. for motivation and warmth. In 2005 I even did a marathon on Mother's Day, which necessitated a January start for training. Though I can't remember putting in big miles while on the road for work, I also don't remember the meat of the winter being as rough as this one, so I had no problem getting the required miles in.

Furthermore, I'm finding out my wardrobe is not up to the task of a Laramie winter. My running tights, purchased at a running store in Northampton, Mass., in 1991 while on a college visit, have just a few lycra fibers remaining and offer little protection from any weather. On Saturday I plodded through what was supposed to be a 5-mile pace run with my nether regions numb from the cold. I ran the last quarter mile with my hand covering myself like a soccer player bracing for the impact of a free kick. So that means I wear my bulky wind pants until the temperature rises above 40 during my runs, probably around Easter. And all this is to say nothing of the snow flying straight into my eyes.

Now, I wake up at 6:30 a.m. each day, earlier if the stinkin' furnace kicks on to keep the mid-teen chill out of my living room. One morning I actually stepped out in the cold in my running clothes, intending to put in some speed work. When the goose bumps formed on my arms and legs, I uttered an expletive and headed back inside, poured a bowl of cereal and turned on Morning Edition. The toughest workouts to do when it's cold are speed workouts, because I learned the hard way back in high school there's no such thing as too much warming up when you're facing down sets of 400s and 800s on the track; pulled muscles can lay you up for weeks. 

And why not wait until the (relative) warmth of the afternoon? Because the wind kicks up late in the morning and doesn't let off until well after sunset. Nothing like trying to keep your heart rate reasonable when fighting the wind, either heading into it at a snail's pace or trying not to get blown into traffic with the wind at your side. Wind is my least-favorite weather condition and I've lived in three of the windiest places on earth (Lubbock, Cheyenne and Laramie).

As previously documented, I try to keep the treadmill at a minimum — once a week, if possible. That's the four-mile recovery run that's moved from Monday to Tuesday as I've blown off the chilly pre-dawn speed work. I consider it a reward to pound away on the treadmill with my loud, angry music turning my eardrums to mush and the coeds contorting themselves on the exercise spheres in front of me.

Sigh... Guess I'm looking forward to spring more than I'll admit. Tonight I went 2 hours, 15 minutes on the indoor trainer in front of three 2006 Ironmans (my year off). The noise:

"ThunderKiss 65," White Zombie

"Battle Flag," Lo-Fidelity All-Stars

"Beef Jerky," House of Pain

"Eat the Rich," Aerosmith

"Twice as Hard," Black Crowes

"Seether," Veruca Salt

"Two Tickets to Paradise," Eddie Money

"Get On the Good Foot," Parts 1 and 2, James Brown

"Baião destemporado," Barbatoques

"Ready to Go," Republica

"I'm Alright," Kenny Loggins

"A Little Less conversation (JXL Mix)," Elvis Presley

"You're an Original," Sheryl Crow

"Riding," Buckcherry

"Will It Go Round in Circles," Billy Preston

"Slow Ride," Foghat

"Cut the Cake," Average White Band

"Return of the Tres," Delinquent Habits

"Beautiful Goal," Oakenfold

"Get on the Bus," Q-Ball

"Peaches," The Presidents of the United States of America

"Free," Yo! Flaco

"Reeling in the Years," Steely Dan

"Never Coming Down (Part II)," Spacehog

"Slither," Velvet Revolver

"Oh Yeah," Yello

"Pinhead," The Ramones

"One Too Many," The Loft

"Sleep," Downside

"Fine Again," Seether

"Just Because," Jane's Addiction

OT: A night at the theatre

(Writer's note: When a post title is preceded by OT, that means it's off-topic. So if you were hoping to read my thoughts on riding my bike in front of OLN/Versus' coverage of Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2005 for the 12th time, you might skip such a post. Onward...)

There were several things that made taking this job a no-brainer, not the least of which was the salary. Those of you who know I was in newspapers know what I'm talking about. For example, during my days in Denton, Texas, Jack in the Box was hiring managers at $31,500, per a sign alongside I-35E. That would have been a $10,000-a-year raise from what I was making at the time.

The other fringe benefits involve being on a campus. I have a fairly nice gym and pool in which to work out (so there's the obligatory tie-in to my workout regimen), there are roughly 7,000 college co-eds strolling across campus for me to ogle (for better or for worse), there are roughly 4,000 of the sharpest minds on the planet in this community to challenge me in my work on a daily basis, I can finally become a paying customer of the college sports I love, and any campus is the cultural epicenter of the community.

Let's not forget the work hours. I played trumpet from fifth grade through college, and since May 12, 1996, my graduation day, my horn has sat unmolested in its case through however many times I've moved. My parents are always after me to play again but I've explained to them on a semi-monthly basis since I graduated that it's hard to engage in a hobby that requires nights and weekends free (any musicians ever do gigs at noon in the middle of the week?) when you work nights and weekends. True story here -- when I moved to Denton, Texas, in 1997, I was walking near the University of North Texas Campus when I saw a flyer posted to a light pole. It said a ska band (again, this is 1997) needed trumpet and trombone players. I started to tear off one of the flaps with the lead guitarist's phone number on it when I realized what my work hours were going to be. "Sure," I thought, "I'll play horn for you. I just can't do gigs on Thursday, Friday or Saturday nights." The life of a sports writer, indeed.

Plus, the "normal" hours mean I have time to enjoy such things, if not participate in them. Like last night, I went to a theatre production. I knew all about it because it's a story I'm working on for the magazine, and because it involves so many elements (dance, drama, comedy, music, physical theatre) I couldn't help but want to see the finished product, even after sitting in on one rehearsal and a dress rehearsal. Plus, now that I have a little more money I want to support these things as much as I can, partly to compensate for not doing so in the past 12 years.

I'll see if I can synopsize it briefly. The production is called "Heyokah/Hokahey," a devised theatre production conceptualized and executed by a group of University of Wyoming theatre students, guided by world-famous mime Bill Bowers. "Heyokah" is a person in Lakota Sioux whose job is basically to be a court jester. "Heyokah" literally means "the opposite," and that person shows us new ways of looking at things, fearlessly questioning things that have gone unquestioned. So the show looks at the world, in particular some of those Lakota stories, in different ways, from the perspective of a person on the fringes of society. It was absolutely amazing, more so when you consider Bowers has been on campus all of six weeks, and that he came here with nothing more than a concept, a seed to plant with his students in the hope that something would grow from a mere idea. It's not for everyone, for sure, but if you ever see "devised theatre" in an events listing, approach it with an open mind and enjoy.

Plus, you can't help but get caught up in the passion of the performers, especially if you've spent an hour chatting with them about what they've done the past six weeks. I love watching people engage in their crafts because you know they're pouring every ounce of their being into this performance (assuming you're not watching Randy Moss run pass routes for a 4-8 team), and sometimes that passion spills over to the audience. When a cynic like me can feel this way, you know there's something special going on.