Monday, July 12, 2010

Blazing my own trail, again

July 2010

I have always felt that ‘blazing my own trail’ was the correct path for me. It is something that has often put me in, “interesting” positions.

This week closed as the first, truly good week, that I can recall in a very long time. I was able to get some trivial details taken care, of course more of my books arrived, I managed to sneak a very therapeutic road-trip, and to close out the week 90 minutes of exhausting time on the ice.

In other news, I finally saw a doctor who actually listened to what I had to say about these chronic tears and pulls in my legs. As such I will not have to fork over money out of my own pocket. It was agreed that ‘images, namely MRI, ought to be done to investigate what is going on with my calve muscles. Finally…
So with that information, it was enough to jerk me out of the ‘feel sorry for myself - hopeless’ mode. Friday I took my goalie gear to the local car wash. That certainly turned the heads who were there. 5$ later, my pads were all dripping wet. Friday was my 500 mile road-trip, and Saturday night, I was in the locker room putting the pads on.

Did I mention I could barely skate off the ice? I mean barely. In a strange way I guess it was nostalgic, going back to a Saturday night many years ago. I had just finished help ‘push’ most of my unit on planes to Baghdad. I had about 18 hours until I was getting on the plane myself, one of the last from our unit. It happened to be Saturday night, so I packed up my pads and drove to the rink. After 2 hours I could barely walk. It was quite a workout. When the rink was locked up at almost midnight I drove to the grocery store to get some food to help with my recovery. After all, the next morning I was going to be loading a plane, again, and going to war.

What was different about leaving for Iraq, I honestly did not think I was coming back. So in the grand scheme of things, that slim chance to play hockey one last time - I considered it was a treat from the gods. I made as much use of the opportunity as I could.

So as I lifted my sweaty goalie gear into the car Saturday night, a dark and nearly empty parking lot at the rink; it reminded me of that July Saturday night so many years ago. Nearly midnight, both times, I went straight for Gatorade and a pile of tacos to help push my body’s recovery. A few bruises and sore today, but it was worth it.

Here’s to hoping there are more Saturday nights filled with this kind of memory. The running won’t start until there is a better idea of the medical implications - answers to the cause of the mysterious problems. But in the meantime, it does seem that the legs can handle some moderate work, so this week, that work will begin again.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

4 - the first injury

Well it happened. The VA of course claims that there is no possible way that my chronic muscle tears can in any way be related to my service abroad. Yet this evening’s tear, brings the cumulative total to about 14 times that my running and exercise has been effectively grounded since 2003. Funny how before that, in a very aggressive running career of hundreds of miles, I had one muscle pull, not even a full blown tear.
The first question tomorrow is going to be how long can I expect to wait before I see anyone? Seeing someone who actually knows what the heck they are doing, well I can plan 6 months, at a minimum. And I will have to fight my way through the ridiculous bureaucracy and ‘justify’ why I need to see an Ortho person.
Not even a block, less than a quarter mile.
I feel like the universe is indeed fighting every step I take. People don’t understand when I say that I am frankly worn out. How can anyone who doesn’t know understand. You think you are doing the right thing, or at least the right thing for you. Honestly I am not a fan of trying to struggle through and just bide on the way side. There are things that I want to do. And the politically correct and feel good of ‘oh it will be okay, it will work out, don’t worry”, is the kind of thing that turns me off.
I think sometimes we all need a little comfort and some reassurance. Pardon me if I want to catch a break. And when a few things go right for me, I get a little excited. But it is all I have. My life is certainly not exciting. It is pretty dull, and it sucks most of the time. I do my best to not bitch about it, but you know it never ends.
Not that I have the money, but even if I wanted to go and get good health insurance, so I could see a doctor sooner - I am disqualified. Oddly I should be in favor of the recent reform, but all I see coming in the future, just makes me want to run away and turn in my citizenship when I get to the border. In the end does it really matter.
This is an example of a moment, that I think back, and really truly wish that ‘HESCO’ had not been between me and that insurgent mortar round. Sadly it was, and thus I am here. I don’t mind the hard work, but I want some level of comfort. A very basic level, that allows me to get un-interrupted sleep just for one whole week. I can’t even get undisturbed sleep for one night. I would like to have a lower level of stress. It would be nice to deal with a primary care provider who actually “listened” to what I had to say about my problems so that maybe we can pursue effect treatment to correct them, instead of turning into a junkie of prescription drugs simply because I am being stubborn (the audacity I must have to expect to express my issues and try things before popping pills, who do I think I am?)
It is tragic. Is this the end of my running, hell no! But I fear I may be down for a little bit. Determination, yes I have that. I am definitely a little fired up tonight.
Do others have it worse than me? Yes many do. Here’s my question in response though. Where is my due? Because I sacrificed a marriage, friends, my mental health, my physical health, my state of mind; and every day I carry this burden on my shoulders. So yes I am entitled to feel a little grumpy on occasion. I am allowed to question the mythical ‘all knowing’ leaders, because frankly they are idiots.
There is no break for me, no special treatment. Everything I have been able to get, I have busted my ass to get it. And I can’t even get the straight answers that I deserve, I am sorry that is wrong. Don’t tell me anything unless you are willing to take responsibility for what you say. I don’t run around and rape, murder, or rob people. Don’t try to make it look like I am one of those people. I don’t condone violence, period.
There is something wrong, and that something is that I am still here. The bonus time, has not been worth the extra that is included with it. A little bit of satisfaction. Imagine getting good news, or something cool happens, only to be painted as bragging. After all the shit you waded through, still there are people who want to piss on you because you have had the drive, even in the face of fear to pursue the things you love, what you are passionate about.
I will pursue, and I suppose that the real friends and the casual or fake friends will bear themselves out. I can only worry about me. There is really nothing else I can do. Trying to please other people for sake of pleasing other people, is much like trying to live up to other people’s expectations of you. It is a dangerous and often deadly proposition, I would just as soon skip. There is something to be said for cultivating your own mind, your own goals, your own personality. In the end, you have to be happy with yourself or you will hate everyone and everything around you.
Then all the things that are supposed to be good in life become poison. After that who can possibly know what is to come. I can do my best to live my life to its fullest potential in my own way. Beyond that, I have no control. And I am worn out on people who think anything else is realistic. I demand a lot of myself, and that will not change. I just want people to be “real” or “genuine”. My how I loathe “fake”. What is done is done.
So here’s to hoping that the doctors are not complete assholes, however unlikely that might be. They will tell me things like “you set too high of goals for yourself” - well, I won’t respond here. That is just not an acceptable answer to me, heaven forbid that I won’t just convince myself to roll over and die so they won’t be bothered to actually do the job they get paid for.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Entry 3 - Wired Up

It is very early, another night trouble sleeping. Man does it ever suck! One day I just want to be able to go to sleep, without any help. One day.
Friday I was given the results of one of my tests. I am now 75% cleared. If only my body was up to 75% capacity. The stamina has been very slow to increase, much slower than I prefer.
Saturday was a botched paper, but still good practice. There are moments that you realize you just get pre-judged. There is really nothing to be done about it.
So a run, an attempt at a longer run of 4 miles and change today. It is time to start pushing a bit. Stretch, modified tune list, and the dark sky. It is warm enough I can travel light on clothing for a change. It always feels good to trot along in the cool air. Of course at 59, some do not consider that very cool at all. I consider it a ‘comfortable’ temperature.
A good workout is just what I need to start the day off. Even if it is considerably early for most peoples’ definition at 330. I keep telling myself that I will need to push a little harder and return to my former ways if I am to obtain my goals.
Discipline, and patience. Preparation prevents injury, but today I will push hard. The cliché “pain is fear leaving the body”. There was a time that I truly had no fear. In order to accomplish the impossible, the impossible needs to become possible, probable. In that, a state on the fine edge between insanity and brilliance, is the place I will need to be in order to push my body for a grueling 154 miles across plains and up mountains.
Today, a test of fortitude stares me in the face. As I often say: “It is not a question of being afraid or not [everyone gets scared], it is about what you do when you are afraid [that does not build character [it does not build character, IT REVEALS CHARACTER]”…

The update, a 5 mile fartlek, for all intents and purposes, at a gruelingly slow 12:22 pace. Sheesh. I suppose the first phase is the toughest, or perhaps the second - completing more than a mile and a half at a solid-strong pace. In the meantime, discipline, it is far too easy to just up and quit.

The stamina, frankly is sucking right now. With a little more push, I just might be able to make some headway on that however.

Who am I, sir, a Utah man am I:
A Utah man, sir, and will be till I die: Ki! Ki!
We're up to snuff: we never bluff.
We're game for any fuss.
I was caught
In the middle of a railroad track (Thunder)
I looked 'round,
And I knew there was no turning back (Thunder)
My mind raced
And I thought what could I do? (Thunder)
And I knew
There was no help, no help from you (Thunder)
Sound of the drums
Beatin' in my heart
The thunder of guns!
Tore me apart
You've been - thunderstruck!
Rode down the highway
Broke the limit, we hit the ton
Thunderstruck, thunderstruck
Yeah yeah yeah, thunderstruck
Thunderstruck, yeah, yeah, yeah
Said yeah, it's alright
We're! Doing fine
Yeah, it's alright
We're! Doing fine
So fine
Thunderstruck, yeah, yeah, yeah,
Thunderstruck, thunderstruck, thunderstruck
Whoa baby, baby, thunderstruck
You've been thunderstruck, thunderstruck
Thunderstruck, thunderstruck, thunderstruck
You've been thunderstruck
Circling your, circling your, circling your head
Contemplating everything you ever said
Now I see the truth I got a doubt
A different motive in your eyes
And now I'm out, see you later
I see your fantasy
You want to make it a reality paved in gold
See inside, inside of our heads, yeah
Well, now that's over
I see your motives inside
Decisions to hide
Back off, I'll take you on
Headstrong to take on anyone
I know that you are wrong
Headstrong, we're headstrong
Back off, I'll take you on
Headstrong to take on anyone
I walk through the valley of the shadow of death is
Top floor the view alone will leave you breathless Uhhhh!
Try to catch it Uhhhh! It's kinda hard hard
I know that you are wrong
And this is not where you belong
I can't give everything away
I won't give everything away
No other gang of college men dare meet us in the muss
God show me the way because the Devil trying to break me down
(Jesus Walks with me)
The only thing that that I pray is that my feet don't fail me now
(Jesus Walks)
And I don't think there is nothing I can do now to right my wrongs
(Jesus Walks with me)
My eyes don't need to see that ugly thing, I know it's me you fear
If you want me hold me back
frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "you be the death of me
I don't need a friend, I need to mend so far away
So come sit by the fire and play a while, but you can't stay too long
It aches in every bone, I'll die alone, but not for pleasure
I see my heart explode, it's been eroded by the weather here
If you want me hold me back
I want to talk to God but I'm afraid because we ain't spoke in so long
There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief,
There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth,
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.
No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke,
There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke.
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.
And when our college days are o'er and night is drawing nigh,
With parting breath we'll sing that song:
A Utah Man am I

Of course thanks to the contributors, these lyrics in part help to push me through lap 2 in my workouts, and for that extra push up the hill...

Today when I do my first two-a-day, I shall attempt to get a picture that is non-traumatic to post.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Zeus and Airplanes

Now this is funny. So it is break, and I was taking a conference/relax trip. Of course it is the red eye.

Flight one 950pm to 11pm.
90 minute layover...
Flight two 1230am to 530am
3 hour layover...
Flight three 830am to noon, arrive at destination.

I cannot honestly say I was real thrilled about these travel legs, especially considering that the day was already rushed, and I detest these type of red-eye flights. They are just no fun, and sap your energy for a day after.

Well, it seems that my old buddy Zeus himself took pity on my lamenting and directly intervened. The plane, which was to be flight number one for me, was hit by lightning (Thanks Zeus, credit given where it is due), and so there was at first a one hour delay while they did a thorough maintenance inspection. I will give the airline credit for doing the safe thing and doing the right thing.

They found a hole in one of the wings. So the 'on call' flight crew was called, and new aircraft arranged for. A little of a pain, but hey, its better than eating a mountainside due to an unsafe aircraft.

As a result of the 5 hour departure delay, I would miss flight 2 and 3. As a result, a shorter trip, and instead of 3 flights to the destination, 1 each way at a civilized early afternoon time. So instead of 16 hours of planes, airports and security, about a total of 3.5 hours. No cost and with additional compensation.

Yes I can definitely live with that. I also get to sneak in a good night's sleep. Way to go Zeus. The moral of this story is rather comical. If you are going to pick a fight with a lightning bolt - you will probably lose.

But I must say that, the other passengers, were disappointed - yet very understanding after all, their safety was very much at risk too. And the airline, was quick to solve the travel needs of the passengers. It was nice to see people do the right thing. And nice to see the customers being grateful rather than nasty.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Again


Yes, again.

After being rather caught up with a nasty flu and cold in February and part of March, I was determined to get back on things, particularly the running. I am still "officially" waiting on the clearance from the doc's before I start hitting heavy miles. That has cost me a month, plus being ill, almost 3 months total.

Of course, my body is far from ready for 'real' or 'hard' miles. As it is, the muscle atrophy is so bad, that even after scant workouts, I can't yet run a full mile. Though it is closer, it is really a statement of the sad state of my body. No one to blame but me. When I got out (of the army), a few years ago, frankly I had more than enough. I needed to decompress. Then I had the brilliant idea to go back to school and be serious about it. Result, lots of stress.

School was the right choice. I needed something to focus on. Something real, tangible. A way to measure some sort of continued progress. No more awards, medals, evaluation reports, and no more 'promotions'. More than anything I needed to find myself again. I had started that path once again, finally with the right tools. But it has been a slow process. I think it must be for anyone who finds their entire being spent on a failed enterprise.

What does any of this have to do with running? Several years ago, I made a conscious decision to write a memoir. I needed to do it for me. But it was never the right time, I never quite could find the motivation to start banging out the pages. I did not want it to be a regurgitated version of Platoon or Full Metal Jacket, only in print. I wasn't in Vietnam so maybe those movies were accurate, maybe they weren't. I always found them to be a bit problematic. Feed the stereotype that all people in the service are bottom feeding animals, who have a vocabulary of 3 and 4 letter words that fit on a single-sided, double-spaced page. Well I know that is not very accurate in my experience, granted it was nearly 2 decades later.

The point is, I wanted my memoir to be something more than that. I have not been particularly impressed with some of the current conflict literature I have seen. 'Literature' is a stretch that I am not really comfortable with either. It is not that I am better than that, so much as that type of digression is not my character and never really has been. I tried to fake it a time or two and failed miserably.

When you are nine, wandering the streets of Frankfurt (A.M. Main) not Kentucky, lost and you don't speak a lick of German; it IS a life changing event. Even if you are only nine. So very early on, I learned I had to be true to myself, when push comes to shove you may find yourself in a spot. A spot, a situation, where even if you can get help - you may not be able to get to it, and it may not be able to get to you.

A year ago, I decided I would finally tackle this long lingering task of writing my memoir. Shameless plug (http://www.a-view-from-the-wall.com) I had a motive, but things have changed, but I was determined to see it through. Oddly I had gone out for a run, another failed attempt to return to running. In the intro, I talk about how my brain and eyes did not recognize my body. I had let it go so badly for so long. I suffered micro tears and pulled muscles from that run. I am not 17 anymore, I can't just go run 5 miles without injury, especially packing an extra 50 pounds. But that never stopped me from trying, which over the last 5 years has led to a number of injuries. Some minor and some, not so much.

So I waited this year until almost the end of January. I started from scratch, changes in diet, small but important. I pretended that I know nothing about my body and nothing about running, except I used to be very good at it, although many many lifetimes ago. And I re-educated myself. Hit the running store, let them gear me up, and dropped a small mini fortune on proper shoes.

In the interest of NOT repeating the injury mistake yet again, I was determined that I would not be stopped. Not by my own lack of foresight or impatience at least. So a slow start, but a start I can live with. Then I decided, to do something, well truly crazy. I decided that in honor of ringing in my 40th birthday, I want to run the "Spartathlon". (http://www.spartathlon.gr/main.php) A grueling 154 mile straight through trek from Athens to Sparta - yes in Greece. In September, and it is not cold there in September.

It is 4 years away. Plenty of time, if I play the cards right and stay uninjured. then there are the doc's I mentioned earlier. Yup, there are some heart issues in the family. Better safe than sorry. Regardless I will keep running, but that run, will test the very best athletes every time. I did not pick it because it is a cake-walk after all.

In the old days, I wasn't even a long distance guy. I was a sprinter, and not what I would consider the easy sprints. The 400 meter is a race that requires speed, and stamina. I remember my first 400 race, during the race at least 4 different times I thought my heart was going to explode inside my chest. And I was 16, cut - ripped - and in awesome shape. I could turn in a 5:45 mile at the drop of a dime. My first 400m was a 54.5 - at 4500 feet above sea level, that is really not bad for a first time out. I learned to hate that race, but I became quite good at it. As a point of reference, most high school and college tracks (around football fields) are 400 meters. Yeah try to sprint the entire thing, on your toes and balls of your feet... I will have to post a picture of what I looked like then, and don't worry there will not be any traumatic pictures of now. Not for a while, say at least -40 pounds ha ha.

So Saturday night I went out and did a hybrid run/walk/run. It was something like 5 miles, but a good workout. I can feel the strength coming back finally in my legs. They are tiring slower, and the spring is increasing. I good sign for the future, and patience and discipline are my enemies - it seems embracing them instead of fighting them is working well. This morning I went out again, a very early 430am 5 mile workout, a little better feeling than Saturday. Progress, even small, is welcome.

Now comes the discipline to keep working on things. To keep pushing the extra half a block, to push all the way over the hill. So to that end, this series fo blogs, I will do my best to track things.

I had originally planned to try my first half-marathon (no I have never run that long of a race, only a 10k twice long ago) by the end of the year. Realistically that is probably towards February of 2011. No problem. As an old saying i once heard goes, "Speed comes from slowness".

I am sure the morning commuters were a bit dismayed by the fat white guy in shorts and sweatshirt, 'trying' to trot down the sidewalk this morning, but I am doing it for me not them. More and more like the old days. Today 35 degrees and dark out, then 29 degrees and snow, shorts, sweatshirt or t-shirt. If it ends badly and I get even half way to what I once was, I just might smile.

Test post

My test blog post.