Greasy-Gooney 10k 2016

“Faster turn-over. C’mon!” I screamed internally. I knew my legs had more to give, but I just couldn’t get them to go. My lungs felt great, as did my core. My legs - or leg rather - just wouldn’t stride like it should. It was then that I knew a come-from-behind finish wasn’t going to happen.

The first half of the Greasy-Gooney 10k (Browntown, Va - Shenandoah Valley area) was surprisingly pleasant. Sitting comfortable in 5th place along with my running friend/coach Jeremy, I powered up the hill. My splits were consistent and my heart/breathing rate were on point. A newbie to the area closely followed. I made references to Jeremy about the other guy, and talked a little louder than usual trying to mentally break him. We continued to surge and hoped to finish the first 5k in strong fashion.

By now, the top 2 secured their positions. Mario (another running friend) in third looked more confident than ever and was creating a buffer between him and us. Newbie seemed to falter a bit. At the 2.5 mile mark, the hill increases its grade. Jeremy pushed ahead, but I stayed close. By the time we crested the top  (also the 5k mark), I tried to do my old cross country tactic - keep pushing past the top to break your competition. I lengthened my stride and glided passed Jeremy. This worked for about 15 yards, and then I heard the footsteps.

“All right. Let’s go, Jere…” Only it wasn’t him. Newbie came alongside, almost effortlessly. I did the only thing I could think of at them time. Ask short questions that would hopefully produce long responses to wear him out :)

We chatted a bit. He was from Arlington. Originally from Tennessee. And he went by Josh. Hey, a connection.

We ran about a mile together, and then Josh slowly pulled away. His new target, Mario, slowly got closer to him, but farther from me. It was about this time that Jeremy, who took a few extra puffs at the top, caught up.

We cruised together for about a half mile, and I made a comment on how the new kid was pretty good and might catch Mario. Jeremy must have taken it as a personal challenge. He glance at me and stated, “let’s see what I can do about 4th place.”

Game on. We were now coming off the downhill section (still slightly rolling), but hit a flat spot. If I could increase my turnover and be a bit lighter on my feet, I could reel all three in.

“Go!” I spurred, but with no results. My right foot continued to drive hard into the ground and without much forward propulsion. There was no pain, just an uncomfortable tightness. My stride felt as half as long as it should. This “injury” is really starting to get annoying.

The wind decided it wanted to get in on the action around 5.5 and almost knocked me sideways. It’s going to be one of those finishes...

From the strong uphill 5k and a steady 5:55 descent, I knew my position was secured, and I wouldn’t be able to catch the three ahead of me. A 10k PR was out of the question, as was the course record for my age group. Time to enjoy the countryside.

The Blue Ridge Mountains were more spectacular than I expected. The fall foliage really snuck up on me this year, and I have yet had much time to enjoy its beauty. As I swung around a few bends in the road, I said good morning to the spectating cows and to the woman on her cell-phone. I assumed she was watching the race, but as I jaunted by I didn’t even receive a glance.

“Good morning!” I proclaimed. “Good job,” she stated halfheartedly without a look away from her phone. Meh, priorities.

At the 6 mile mark, I decided to open it up a bit. If nothing more than for a terrible photo that I am eagerly awaiting to see (to be fair, it isn’t the quality of the photo or the photographer. It is definitely the subject and my inability to get a good race picture).

I crossed the finish line in 6th place (1st in my age group) with a time of 39:14. Not too shabby for running and winning a half marathon 2 weeks before, and getting a new marathon PR the week before that.

I sauntered toward the crowd of finishers. I learned that Mario also succumbed to Josh’s (no longer Newbie - he earned my respect) speed. Jeremy never caught them, but he came close.

The four of us went out for a 1.5 mile cool-down together and patiently awaited the awards ceremony. I won a random prize of miniature snickers. Josh received a pumpkin.

Overall, the race was great. Just outside my hometown, dirt cheap ($10), and beautiful scenery. I was able to run with my part of my running team, met a new runner, and even met a few people that I only knew online via Strava. I will definitely be running it again next year and for many years to come!

Skora Phase Shoe Review

When it comes to running shoes, I’m a bit different than most people. I’ve tried a lot of different types, but always enjoyed racing flats. As life sped up, my running slowed down. Cue heavy, padded, and elevated heel. Then, I tried a lighter shoe, coupled with Born to Run. This lead to minimalist toe shoes to even going barefoot for a good chunk of time. It was then that I found out I was a minimalist.

Up until this point and even now, I’m in love with Merrell’s Vapor Glove. I’ve faithfully put on 1,000+ miles between my three pairs. For a more protective, but responsive trail shoe I utilize the Merrell Trail Glove 2. But like all good running shoes, my favorite pair was modified into the Vapor Glove 2.0 – a better seamed, but a little heavier. No major complaints.

Well, except one. I guess with all the pounding I put on my feet (majority of it being asphalt), my big toe started to act up. This was double bad news because it started to act up right before a marathon. I hobbled across the line both disappointed and defeated --- but I still had fun! I told myself and agreed with my wife (to myself, not out loud of course) that maybe minimalist isn’t what I need for long distance.

I convinced my mom to buy me a pair of Skora Phase when home for Thanksgiving. I purchased them on Black Friday, so I received a sweet deal and a few pairs of Injinji socks for free!

Putting them on my feet to walk around the house, I immediately noticed the rolled heel. Mentioning it to my dad, he commented with a smirk, “Just like… your heel?” Things just got real (see what I did there!? Man, I’m funny… Oh, you didn’t? Well, maybe this will help. Skora’s motto is Run Real. Hilarious, right?!)

(Merry Christmas to me! Thanks, mom!)

The next detail I noticed was the lugs and rivets on the bottom. Being new, they had a lot of grip. Time will tell how long this will last, but it gives me some faith with the colder, snowier months upon us.

(After 10 wet miles, they still look pretty good. I'd say my Run Real form is par for the course.)

Finally, I was able to lace up and take them out on the road. My wife accompanied me for the first two miles and then she peeled off to run an Ultra or something. If you don’t know her, she’s pretty amazing.

During the first two, I had to run on the road and chunky rock. Unlike the Vapor Gloves, I could “feel” the rocks, but there was no discomfort. In the other shoes, I would avoid these rocks or crank out a faster foot turn over to help displace my weight. Not necessary with the Phase, but I still felt connected to the ground. The second test was a storm grate. No qualms. I could tell the surface texture was different, but the shoe stuck pretty well. Impressive, since it was drizzling all day.

Next came the track. With a Beer Mile in the near future, I figured I would try my new shoes on the track. Since I was emphasizing speed, I was hoping to be quick and light. Maybe it was from all the holiday food, but I just felt heavy and slow. Was this because of the shoes? I’m not sure. They did feel a little heavier than my racing flats, but that is to be expected. However, the insole is removable. Further research here is needed. 5:27 mile for those who are curious.

(Super reflective shoes!)

The mile back up home went extremely well. With my legs slightly fatigued, it was nice to see how the shoes responded to my shortened, “I think I’m dying” stride. To finish the last mile, I climbed a semi steep hill with ease. I was able to stay on my mid-foot with no heel strikes and pushed to the top. The downhill went equally as well. Actually, this was the most confident I’ve felt in a shoe going downhill in a long time.

(Sara and I before our second run. Phase on the left, Core on the right)

To make a long story short, the Skora Phase will be in my regular rotation. They will not be my 5K racing shoe, but will help with training. They will play a critical role with runs where the terrain is uncertain, anything over 6 miles, and maybe a few long(er) distance races.

Winter Series #1 - Mystery Through History

Another year, another Winter Series. TL;DR – 8 races, points based on finish, high quality courses, cheap entry fee, and a lot of fun!

The mystery through history is kind of the odd ball race in the series. Most of them are 5Ks, but that’s not the case with this one. In fact, the distance changes year to year (anywhere from 3 to 5 miles)! Fortunately, this year I was paying attention before the race and heard the director state the distance. Well, sort of. I knew it was 4 point something…

In addition to the distance, the course was described. From the grunts and groans that filled the air, I realized that the hills would be a challenge. However, being from Front Royal, I thought maybe this was just the flat landers and treadmillers talking.

NOPE! Have you ever heard your grandfather talking about how he used to walk up hill, both ways, to and from school, in a foot of snow, barefoot? Welp, I found the hill he was talking about.

The first mile went well. I started out slower than usual (a new thing for me), and was hoping to build up the pace. I had the lead pack in sight on long straights and knew I was around the top 10. “Good,” I thought. I can settle in, work the hills, and then crush the finish.

NOPE AGAIN!

Alright… it’s been a while since I did a hill workout. Hell, I took a long time off from running in general since the Richmond Marathon. And the “workouts” I did were not intense at all. But these hills were tough. They weren’t huge. They weren’t long. But they were constantly rolling. I’d recover on a downhill and then my heart rate would spike again going up the next knoll. All I could do was focus on the 3 people ahead of me, and hope to stay with them.

Fortunately, one of those three was Brenda – a staple to the SVR running events. I passed her early on and then she reciprocated the favor around mile 2. I hate being passed, so I needed to stay close.

Climbing back into the woods before the finish, I felt refreshed and ready to rock. But so did Brenda. I followed in her shadow as we reeled in the other two guys ahead of us. She then slowly pulled away with every stride, but with less than .75 of a mile to go, I knew I had the guts to pass the other two.

(Heading towards the finish. Photo by Karsten Brown)

The woods section is enjoyable, but deceivingly long. Fortunately, I remembered my trail shoes as the trail is chunky rock. I blew by the two guys (whom I later found out went out EXTREMELY fast and gassed out) and focused on my finish. Though Brenda was now out of the picture, I opened up my stride on the straight, downhill finish. As I crossed the finish line and looked at the time, I wasn’t impressed; but I was still happy. 

4.1 miles, 27:24 elapsed, 6:34 pace, 8^th overall, 1^st for my age group 20-29.

Here we go again

Welp, here we are again. Another 3 months, another set of scans.

(Source: http://www.healthcentral.org/media/uploads/outpatient/catscan.jpg)

I have to be frank, I'm nervous about this one. The fear of something coming back and having to go through that mess again is slightly terrifying. And since I have a hidden version of my mother's hypochondria, I freak out a little on the inside.

Cue not sleeping well and flipping out on my wife for no real reason. 

I hope I can shake these feelings eventually, and that they don't show up every scan. But only time will tell... I think this one is especially hard since my cousin is going through his own fight against cancer.

But enough of that, let's talk about something cooler - RUNNING!

Outside of my own personal realm, there has been a lot going on in the running world (Alberto Salazar, NCAA Championships, USATF Outdoor Championships, and Jager clipping a hurdle at the end of the steeplechase and still setting an American record). Here are my thoughts on all three:

Rupp, please be clean. There has been enough tainting of American distance runners. You were supposed to be the next Pre. However, I do think Salazar as made his athletes do some sketchy things. Some example coming straight from the athletes' mouths!

NCAA Championships were fun to watch. Nothing too crazy. Oregon always has really cool uniforms.

USATF Championships were awesome! Oh, you didn't watch? That's probably because running is the back burner sport. If you wanted to watch, you had to know the date, times, and have the link to stream it online. Not bad for events that were qualifying people for Worlds in Beijing! [/sarcasm].

Finally, Evan Jager. Wow! In diamond league competition, he was pitted against some of the best steeplechasers in the world. However, with a strong performance for about 2,950m out of the full 3,000, he earned the respect of everyone including the Kenyans who have owned the steeplechase since the 60's. If you didn't watch the video, Jager stumbled on the last hurdle, falls, gets back up, takes second, and STILL sets an American Record!

In the famous words of Forrest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that."

Cheers to health, wellness, and running!
*Takes a long sip of the 50ml contrast solution*

2015 Apple Blossom 10k Recap

Apple Blossom weekend always seems to be super chaotic. Being newer to the area, I am not familiar with all the road closings and secret spots to park. Rest assured (after 15 minutes of driving around) I found an amazing spot just a 2 minute jog away!

Expecting to wait in lines, I rushed down a hill and then patiently waited for my precarious wife to take the same jaunt. When we finally made it to the registration tent, I was in awe! The “I” to “L” line had no one else in it! Every other line had a minimum of 4 people waiting. I guess it finally pays off to have the Ilnicki surname (that, and knowing when a stranger/telemarketer is calling). Time to stash our shirts and goodie bag and take off for a warm-up run.

Sara led the way down a side street. We chatted briefly as we cruised just over a quarter of a mile around an 8:20 pace. With the start time edging near, we changed directions and headed back.

With about 10 minutes before race-time, my body decided it was round two for bathroom breaks. I said “Good luck” and “love you” to Sara, and her the same. My main squeeze now my main competition  J My number 1 goal, don’t let my wife beat me!

Seeing that the line for the main section of Johnny Blues,  Ed’s Heads, Port-a-Johns or whatever your region calls them, going about 20 people deep, I recalled on my previous year of experience and went an eighth of a mile behind the grandstands. There were at least 10 bathroom stalls, no lines, and plenty of toilet paper! I finished up my paperwork, chatted with a friend on goals (mine being anywhere from 7:00 to 7:15 pace. His being much faster)  and to the line I went. As I was getting my second warm-up in, the national anthem started. Fortunately, I found a spot roughly 4 rows back from the start. “I got this,” I thought, as I scanned the start for my running buddies. I saw no one…

Mile 1

The first mile is always an interesting one. There is no true sectioning of predicted paces, and with many people wanting to get noticed by photographers, friends, family, or just because they think they are the next Meb, everyone is intermingled. This year, it didn’t seem nearly as bad and most actually seemed to know about pacing! With the race jitters on full blast, I took off. Glancing at my watch, I was cruising at a 6:00 pace. Hmmm, let’s pull back on the reins. I started to slow after the second turn and let the waves of people pass me. Then, we start heading up the hill by Handley High School. One by one, I start to pick them off. I also get picked off by a few. However, I do start to fall into my pace. As I crest the hill, a running friend passes me. We are exchange pleasantries and discuss pace and goals. The others surrounding us are in complete silence. We fly down the downhill and cross the grandstands again. Another rush of energy enters my body as I see my parents and daughter cheering me on. Man, she’s a cutie. 6:29 first mile! Whoa!

Mile 2

Mile two seemed to go by just as fast. The vigor of the crowd makes one forget how fast they are actually going.  I kept glancing at my watch, trying to slow down. I was able to slow down a bit, but I felt so good that I decide to keep the fast pace. Not much to say about this mile. Lots of people, both runners and fans. Pace was a 6:44 mile.

5K Mark

The fastest that I was hoping to come through this point was 21:30. This would have put me almost exactly at a 7:00 pace, which would have helped me push even harder. To my surprise, I was pushing it faster --- 21:06. I know 0:24 doesn’t seem like much, but at this moment of this race, I was flabbergasted. This is when I started to believe in myself that a sub 7:00 pace was possible. Up until the start of the next mile, I started doing math in my head, seeing how much I could slack off and still maintain a 7:00 minute pace. Oh, and a coworker, Mike, passed me. His goal was around a 7:00 pace, too. I just wanted to keep him in my sights.

Mile 4

This was by far my least favorite mile. Right before the marker, there was a switchback. On the way to the switchback, I got to see all of my (now much faster) running friends. I cheered them on, which in return made me continue a quick pace. After rounding the corner, I saw my wife and one more friend and his son (whom he was helping pace). The rest of the mile was just me, my thoughts, and a head-wind as the road slightly inclined. Seriously, I had no one to truly pace off of, and Mike was much farther ahead of me than I liked. I needed to turn it up, though my pace was still good - a solid 6:56.

Mile 5

Powering up the next hill (thank you Front Royal), I was able to increase my pace and carry it over into the downhill. I was now way out of my training speed. I started to pass people as I pushed to a 6:30 pace to catch Mike. Cresting the first little knoll, I was slowly reeling him in. I’m not sure if he picked up his pace, too, or what, but I needed a boost badly if I was going to make it happen. I did a quick form check, focused on my breathing, and thought what else I could do. Then, I remembered RunningDad.com ‘s Jeremy Sanders’ posts. He always gives out high fives when he runs. I grabbed a cup of water, doused myself with it, and headed towards the fans. Like a match made in heaven, a little boy roughly 8 years old caught my eye. He knew immediately what to do. He threw out his hand, and I gave him the weakest high five of my life. Yet, the joy on his face put a smile on mine and the run became slightly easier. I pushed onward to run next to Mike. Mile split 6:59

Mile 6

Just over halfway through the last mile, I was able to catch Mike. We talked about the pace, how we both were hurting, and how I had nothing left. I tried my best to keep up with him, but he slowly pulled away by a few strides. This was probably for the better. If I am running next to someone, I feel obligated to talk to them. From this little “break,” I was able to regroup. I did another form/breathing check and focused. Then, like an angel glistening in the sun, I found my next power boost. I girl was holding a sign that read, “Push Button for Power.” Boy, did I push that button! Mile time 6:52.

The last 0.2

Holy crap! I made this far with every mile under 7:00! I definitely didn’t imagine this. As I rounded the corner to get on the home stretch, every muscle fiber was screaming. My form went to crap, and my breathing was now an inconsistent struggle to gasp. I was done, ready to bonk. But then, just when I thought I was going to slowly cross the finish line like a slug on a hot day, I saw Estella. Man, she’s a cutie. With her cheering me on, I pushed aside the pain, threw a smile on my face and charged onward! I was even able to pass Mike (even though his net time still had me beat by 0:01)! Crossing that finish line was pure bliss! My official finishing time was 42:36!

After thoughts

As I sit here typing this, my wife is mocking me about my usual sayings, “If I would have ran a little more” or “if I trained a bit harder” yada yada yada, I completely think of the opposite. I’m darn proud of myself and what I accomplished. To come back on such a short amount of time and with not much training, I was still able to push myself beyond what I thought I was capable of doing. My body was riddled with toxins and most cells were either dead or dying just a few weeks ago. I’m still recovering, yes; however, I am still a contender. A few more training runs and some core workouts and I’ll be back to my old pace. With that said, watch out running world, Ilnicki is (slowly coming) back! 

(My amazing wife, Sara and myself after completing 

the Apple Blossom 10K. Photo credits to Kim Ilnicki)

On the Road Again

Well, the last 4 months was worth it. The chemo did it's job and I'm cancer free!

Now it's time to get back out there and crush it... at least that's what I keep I telling myself.

Sadly, I'm finding it harder than ever to get motivated to go for a run. With work and coaching, I find myself saying, "I'll just go out tomorrow and run." Tomorrow comes and goes with roughly 2 miles under my shoes from track practice. Obviously that's not enough.

The worst part is, I have races coming up that I want to do extremely well at. First on the list is the Apple Blossom 10k. I did pretty well last year and was hoping to make a solid racing debut post chemo. The problem is, 6.2 is going to hurt. Not the normal pushing myself hard hurt, but the "OH MY GOD MY LEGS AND LUNGS ARE ON FIRE" hurt. Just finishing the 10k will be tough.

After that, there is the Liberty 5k. Not a great amount of importance, but the course destroyed me mentally and physically last year. All I want is some payback.

On top of that, my wife, group of running friends, and myself signed up for the Richmond marathon. Though it will be great fun, I'm nervous as heck. I'm too competitive as a person and don't want to finish last amongst all if us. That means I need to train. HARD.

That's it for now. Just a quick update and hopefully something to get me kickstarted to run again!

Bacon

Ah, the weekend. Time for some much needed rest and a hardy breakfast.

There are a few things I enjoy more in life than a simple breakfast of bacon and eggs. The aroma that surrounds the house and the crackle of fat frying in the pan are two things I love. On a good day, I could enjoy a pound of bacon, three fried eggs, and guzzle a cup of coffee without thinking twice.

Fortunately, today wasn't one of those days. Instead, I settled for a half a pound of bacon and two eggs. I still enjoyed the cup of coffee and soaked things up with a piece of toast.

After finishing my masterpiece, I did what every highly intelligent individual would do. Sit on the couch? Read the paper? Nay, I say. I went running.

With the chemo and its effects, I'll be the first to admit I haven't been running that much - once maybe twice a week, if I'm lucky. I've been doing the Winter Series races, but that is about it. Factor in my (low) participation in my P.E. classes and I'm lucky if I net five miles a week.

Anyways, on to today's run! 
It started off great. A beautiful, snow-kissed morning with no wind. I settle immediately at an 8:00/mile pace and cruised through the alleyways. I didn't have a set destination or mileage planned. I just wanted to get out. I figured anywhere between three and five miles would suffice.

The first mile went without a hitch. Breathing was slightly fast, but the cadence of my feet felt great and my heart wasn't pounding out of my chest. The roads were clean, and not much traffic to boot!

Working my way towards mile two, I decided to go on the low end of my three to five BUT ONLY  if I could negative split. I increased my foot turnover, focused on my stride, and told myself I was okay. Then it happened. It started as a tickle, then a need to cough. Only it didn't feel like the mucous filled loogie that I usually hock up. It burned and tasted terrible.

Now don't get me wrong. I've spewed before, during, and after races a decent amount of times. It is never pleasant. But, it is something that I have grown accustomed to. I still hate dry heaving though. It's just this time, the acidity of the coffee and subtle smokiness of the bacon hit me hard.

My pace wavered. I gulped hard. Not today! I haven't puked once since chemo and today wasn't going to be that day! Onward! -0:10 seconds. Let's do this!

Mile three was a little more gross. I had to switch to the sidewalk, so I got mixed up in some wonderful slush. There was also a lot of debris and too much traffic to bounce out into the road. However, I still needed that negative split! PUSH!

Whoops, there's that feeling again. GULP! Not today, hombre. Downhill, let's make up some time. I started to crank my legs a bit faster. Respiration elevated. Stomach camp! Focus on breathing. Cramps gone, bacon is back. GULP! As my daughter would say, "That's disgusting!"

The next two minutes were like shampooing directions - lather, rinse, and repeat. Only this time it was run, swallow puke, continue.

Finally, I hit the three mile mark. Initially, I was supposed to slow down and glide home as a cool down. Pshht! That's what sissies would do. I glanced at my watch, pushed the pace harder, and slowly increased my speed for the remaining half. At the peak, I was back at my old 10k pace - 6:20ish!

Overall, I felt great! If I had the option to do it again, I definitely would.

Isn't it weird how something so gross can make you feel so good. It's great to be alive again :)

Perseverance

Today’s run was one of the hardest runs of my life. It wasn't the distance. It wasn't the pace. Just something about it sucked. I’m sure if I gathered all the pieces, an easy puzzle would appear – not warming up, I didn't have a set pace in mind, very little sleep – but there is more to it than that.

The watch is synced, phone GPS is on, and away I go. I've run this way hundreds of times. A quick left, a right, a few short strides, and a nice hill to get the blood pumping. There isn't much traffic, so I peer to my left to enjoy the melting snow glisten as the sun’s rays turn everything into a swampy mess. Breathing with relative ease, I glance at my watch as I crest the hill. A pace of 8:10/mile. Not too shabby considering I've only ran one other time since my marathon two weeks ago. Fluttering down the hill, I had a strong sense of serenity. Even the decaying plant matter had a subtle, yet surprisingly pleasant smell. Unfortunately, I’m not one to “settle.” If I can go this fast and feel this great, why am I willing to stay comfortable? Push.

And push I did. I wish this story ended here as I galloped off into the afternoon sun. But, that wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining or true. Instead, I upped the pace. Now my breathing is elevated. My heart is pumping. My port feels funny. Does it really? Or am I just making myself think that it feels weird. Just shut up and go. Focus on your stride, why are you leaning your head? Uh, hello – heel strike much? How cool would it be if a deer jumped out of those bushes?! How scared shitless would I be if a deer jumped out of those bushes?! Tune in. Namaste. Left foot, right foot, repeat.

A mile and a half done. In my best Balboa voice I wittingly say to myself, “You’re not so bad.” And this is what makes running a fickle mistress. I thought I was going to own this run. I was cruising. I felt great. I had a good pace going. Hell, I just did my first round of chemotherapy, and I’m out here basically rubbing it in cancer’s face. Well, all this elation came crashing down in an instant. I was able to pick up the pace to complete the second mile, but I started to crash. Like an airplane with a busted engine, it felt like I was forced to do damage control.  My calves started to burn. I guess sitting around the house all day doesn't work them out too much. Breathing? Oh, was I supposed to do that when I run? Here, let me gasp wildly for some extra oxygen atoms. To add insult to injury, here comes a diesel truck spewing exhaust in my path. Wonderful.

All right, get it together. Two thirds done.  A mile to go. The last third of this mile is all downhill. Can’t stop, won’t stop. Fight through the pain… I should stop... WHOA! And there it was. Talk about a moment. I’ve been training for years and have made some (crappy) excuses to not run. But I have never just been so willing to give up. During my 10X10 challenge I walked 4 times. At my marathon, I blissfully sauntered through 2 water stations. I do not mind walking at all, but that’s not what I was thinking to myself. I didn’t say walk or slow down. I said, “I should stop.” Yes, I understand safety is important. No, I do not want to injure myself. Yes, my calves feel like they are going to rupture. But I wanted to stop?! The thought just popped in. Usually, this isn't even a question. Sure, sometimes I think to myself I should slow down – but do actually stop? No way.

The good news is, I had argued with myself (and by arguing I mean calling my internal voice a sissy and pleading for it to shut up) long enough to make it up the hill. Three tenths of a mile, cruise control is set, bring her home. And that’s just what I did. I completed my 3.08 mile run in 23:36, albeit it felt like I had set a new PR – without the gratification and pain of setting a new personal record. Instead, I just stopped my watch, turned off my phone’s GPS, threw off my shirt, and crashed on the back bumper of my vehicle. Questions, doubt, and anger sprinkled with a few other emotions scattered through my brain. Is it going to be easier? Was today just a bad day? Will I get stronger? I tried to answer yes to all of these questions, but I didn't want to lie to myself. Instead, as I rubbed the port buried under my skin checking for God knows what, I accepted one thing. I ran three miles. Yes, it sucked, but you know what? I didn't stop. I pushed when my body said no. I persevered against my own self.  And for that reason, I am proud.

Note: PLEASE, if you are ever injured while running, DO NOT force yourself to do more than what you can. I've been running for quite a while and know my limits. Make sure you know yours and seek medical advice when necessary.

Another day, another scan

Welp, it's that time again. Time for another round of CT scans. It really isn't a big deal, but it is simply time consuming, boring, and physically and mentally taxing.

Already (I'm typing this as I wait), I've been here for almost 1.5 hours. Originally, this would be a good thing - being that I have to drink 44 ounces of spiked water over the course of an hour to work its way through my system. Instead, my order was never transferred to my local hospital, and I had to wait for a fax to go through.  Fortunately, between the local newspaper and free wifi, I've remained occupied. And now that the drink is gone, the paper is read, and my sites are all caught up, I play the waiting game to break up the monotony of the waiting room.

To my dismay, boredom won so you are blessed with another blog post (two this week!).

Thinking of what to type about, I did some self reflection and realized how draining this whole process is.

From a physical standpoint, I'm not supposed to eat or drink anything before my scans. The good news, being that the scans are in the afternoon, I cheated and ate a bagel with cream cheese. The bad news, I usually eat a large breakfast and snack throughout the morning. Besides the no eating, I also won't run today. So now I have to switch up my training for the week.

Mentally, I couldn't sleep last night which carried over to today. My morning consisted of watching "The Soprano's" and napping for almost 3 hours. Waking up, I had the panicking adrenaline rush of thought that I missed my appointment. As if this anxiety wasn't enough, I also hate needles and I think of the worst case scenarios upto and during the procedure itself.

I realize this reads more like a diary, but so be it. Until next time - peace out, home cheese.