A little lesson in humility

The problem with having a blog is that you have to write stuff on it.  Otherwise, you probably should not have a blog.  I should not imply that there is a problem with having a blog.  The problem lies in the fact that if you have one, you should write on it.  Even if people totally ignore it.  With all that being said, what happens if you actually have nothing to say or write, yet you still feel obligated to write or say something.  Well, I guess we are about to find out.  I get tired of talking about myself.  Nobody may believe that, but it is true.  Me, me, me.  Look at me run.  Listen to me run.  Read about me running.  I think I will try to take the focus off me for today and talk about others. 

I have lost 14 pounds in the last couple months.  7 in the last month.  I am still eating well but just cut out most of the junk.  All of the junk.  I miss salt the most.  I have found that I used so much salt in the past that going cold turkey made everything taste like nothing.  A steak tasted like a shoe.  I've never eaten a shoe but I can imagine it would be fairly tasteless.  I used to love cold, leftover steak.  Pull it out of the fridge, pour salt on it, take a bite, pour more salt on it.  Etc, etc...ad infinitum.  <<<< I like using Latin phrases and words when I can.  It makes me look more smarter, I do believe.  As in, I used to eat steak fat, pork rinds, a carton of Ding Dongs, et al.  Et al is one of favorite Latin situations.  Now, I think I remember an episode of The Beverly Hillbillies where Jethro was speaking Latin.  Here's what I remember.  Granny, "Jethro, where did all the vittles git to."  Jethro, "Dang Granny, I et em all."  I learned a lot from the shows of the sixties. 

My running seems to be getting better.  I am definitely feeling more motivated again and started setting realistic goals.  For a pretty long time, I was eating lots of food, et al, and not running in a focused manner, ad infinitum, and sitting around wondering why I wasn't getting faster and/or losing weight.  Ibid.  Goals do not reach themselves.  Motivation mostly comes from yourself.  Something has to click.  I feel that something finally clicked.  I know that when I push myself, all aspects of my life seem to get a bit better.  Under acheiving makes one feel like crap. 

I will leave everyone with this.  Oofum, Daglus, Mootanufus.  This in Latin means, You do not get stronger without getting stronger, hard work pays off over time.  The people who made up the Latin language had a way of condensing  many thoughts and words into little, concise phrases.  For example, when Caesar said, "Et tu, Brutus?", I would have said, "What the hell Brutus?  Your stabbing of me is not only leaving me in physical pain but my feelings are hurt as well.  If you really did not like me, maybe we could have sat down and had a talk.  Now, please stop stabbing me because I feel as though I could die soon."  Instead, Caesar just said, "Et tu, Brutus?"  Short, to the point, remembered for centures.  If I could do that, my posts would be about three lines of verbiage.    So, to sum and conclude, I say again,"Oofum, Daglus, Mootanufus."

"Running keeps me sane."  House Vandeweghe

I think I should be one of People Magazine's most beautiful women and not Gweneth Paltrow

As I start obsessing over what will be my 8th official half marathon, I had a thought.  It is well documented by whoever listens to me that I keep swearing off anything with the word thon in it.  I actually swore off them after my first half marathon.  My first half marathon came after my first marathon.  My first marathon was the worst experience of my life.  It took forever.  I think my time was three and a half days.  As we all know, the crowds for these events are incredible.  It seemed that all of New York was out that day in 2007.  They were all cheering for me.  At least I'm pretty sure they were.    This cheering went on for the first part of the first day.  By day two, people had kind of forgotten about me.  Day three of my marathon came and the people were getting hostile.  They wanted me out of their city.  They finally said take your medal and get out.  I did, and I swore off thons.

There is an old saying that goes something like this, "If one cannot lie to oneself, then who can one lie to?"  It is old and someone said it.  No one knows who and no one really cares.  It is one of those things that someone said around a fire or beside a river and the scribes wrote it down and it got lost in the translation over time until I found it again and put it here.  I'm bringing it back because it applies to me. I lie to myself all the time.  I keep telling myself that I am not going to run this stuff anymore and then I do.  Right now I'm mad at myself because I don't feel that I am well enough prepared to do what I want to do.  Every race I run, I want it to be faster than the last.  I'm pretty sure that isn't going to happen this time.  I try and tell myself that I don't care.  That I can just run and be satisfied that I did it.  But that isn't me.  In addition, I'm just never that happy running 13.1 miles.  I am the happiest guy in the world when I'm done.  Well, about 20 minutes after I'm done, but not when I'm running.  I have moments, for sure, but it ain't every mile.  I've done enough half marathons, that I know when I'm at the starting line on Sunday, I am going to say, "what am I doing here?"  I also realize that I'm lying to myself again because I know why I do it.  Because I like a challenge.  I like to push myself.  I love the feeling when I'm done.  I say this to anyone...just running 13.1 miles is an accomplishment.  There was a time that I could barely run from telephone pole to telephone pole.  I know there are many people who can relate to that and I appreciate all the work that runners put into running.  I appreciate all the work people put into life.  It is not easy.

I have set a new goal for myself and that is to try to eat healthier.  I've rationalized long enough that I can eat what I want because I exercise a lot.  At my age, that is not the case.  It is hard to keep the weight off.  I have a goal weight in mind.  I want to make sure that I'm getting proper nutrition to ensure I keep muscle on while losing the weight I want.  I really want to see how fast this old body can go.  I do not feel I am at a plateau yet and I feel the need to really push.  I hope I have the will power to push it where I want it to go.  I would like to know, just once, that I reached some sort of potential that I have.  I love the quote by Steve Prefontaine.  "To give anything less than your best, is to sacrifice the gift."  We all have gifts, very few really appreciate them or use them to their potential.  I know I haven't.  I don't think it matters whether you are faster, stronger or smarter than someone else.  What matters is that you are as fast, strong or smart as you can be.  Wasted potential is a sad thing.  As you get older, it becomes more profound.   The feeling of lost potential.  You cannot get that time back, but, if you are lucky, you do have tomorrow.  I have tomorrow and there are some things that I want to do.

In conclusion, my concentration has been ruined by Jeopardy.  It is on, and I am trying to finish this and answer questions to Trebek.  If I were on that show, the realization has hit me that he would say, "Nourse, stick to running and lifting weights."  I'm okay with that.

The Song of Gilligan

It is exactly three weeks from the half marathon.  Three weeks.  This will be the fifth time I have done this particular one.  I remember when I did it the first time.  I said it will be my last one...ever.  So, five of these and a couple of other ones later and I'm still at it.  I keep saying that I'm not going to anything with the word thon in it again.  But, I keep signing up.  As the pain goes away from my last marathon, I am even considering doing another one of those.  I kind of feel like the last one beat me.  I'm trying to decide if I can live with that.  My biggest realization in the last few weeks is that I am pretty much full of shit.  I don't mean to be.  I fully intend to concentrate on shorter races, like 5k's, but then something happens and I get the urge to do something else.  I've done three Tough Mudders.  I thought the first one would be my last.  The second one definitely was my last.  Until the third one.  The third is probably my last.  The cost is getting prohibitive.  That is my main reason.  The cost is crazy high.  I have also gotten to the point where I don't just sign up for lots of stuff anymore.  The costs of numerous races is just a lot of money.  I'm trying to pick and choose the ones I really want to do and the ones that are for a good cause.  I would like to do something Tough Mudderish, because I like to climb over stuff and I like mud.  I like the upper body challenge.  Blah, blah...blah.  This is really boring.  I am boring myself to tears writing this.  Do I stop?  Have I gone too far to delete?  It is sort of like an out and back run.  Once you go too far, you have too far to go back.  All the sudden you are running a crap ton of miles, or in this case, writing a crap ton of words.  I'm like the Gilligan of blog post.  Go out for what you think is a three hour tour and then I'm stuck on a island for years.  This post is my island.

Let's regroup here.  Due to the fact that this is a running blog, I'm going to say something about running.  Today, while running through the woods with my friends, I made the statement that I could run forever if my legs didn't get tired.  They laughed, because the legs always get tired, but what if they were so well conditioned that they didn't?  At least for a long time.  When I was coming off my plantar's issue a few years back, I experienced a moment of zen.  I had such a bad case, that I could not do regular runs for months.  That is when I started doing the step workout, switched to training in Vibram's, running in Kinvaras and fully embraced the minimalist thing.  Taught myself to run on my forefoot again, like I did when I was a sprinter in high school and college.  Got my stride back, and stopped being a plodder.  Anyway, I strengthened my feet and my calves by doing lots of step work.  Also, did lots of kettlebell work.  When I started running again on the road and the trails, I made sure that I did a quality run.  Quantity did not matter at the time.  I just wanted to run and finish strong and with a positive attitude.  If that was two miles or three miles, it was fine...as long as I finished strong.  The kettlebells and the steps worked my legs in a way that was just incredible.  Flash foreward to my first 5k after my comeback and my legs never died.  They felt strong the whole way.  I was actually surprised to see the finish line.  It was awesome.

Knowing that my long runs have not been real good leading up to this half, I have been beating my legs up in other ways.  They are sore and tired.  I am hoping to pull all this together in the next few weeks and have a decent performance in the half.  In a way, this is like my first one again.  I just do not know what to expect.  I know I can finish.  I know that I can do okay, but I'm just not sure what okay means. Last year I knew that I could do a sub 1:50 if I was on my game.  This year, I'm not sure.  I'm getting excited to find out.  Then on to bigger and other things.

I believe this is one of the reasons I still love running.  I'm still surprised and amazed to see what my body will do on any given day.  I have to stop writing now and find a way off this island.