Treating a stress fracture

I'm trying to be as aggressive as I can with treating this stress fracture. Until a week and a half ago, I was solely relying on the RICE formula with some anti-inflammatories. Now I'm basically throwing everything but the kitchen sink at my foot.

Ideally I'd like to get back to running as soon as I can, but I'm going to force myself to wait as long as possible. I'm still hopeful that 8 weeks will be the magic number, which puts me at around Christmas time before I can roll again.

Here's the run down of my current regimen:

1) Rest. I really can't do a whole ton right now, as my foots still very sore - though the soreness has shifted from being very localized on the 2nd metatarsal to spreading across the entire foot. Basically I've put myself on complete shut down for at least another week. I've accepted that November is a bust. December will probably have me getting back into swimming and some cycling. This will be the most rest I've taken in probably 5 years. I'm sure it's much needed too, since I've been pounding away for so long without much of a break (except when I've been injured).

2) Das Boot! In German, that means "the boat". I'd agree. It's a boat. A giant canoe strapped to my foot at all times. I hate it. I can't help but complain about it. The only time I'm not wearing is when I'm sleeping or showering. Basically a plastic removable cast with a stiff bottom and cushioned support + compression. The goal is to remove flexibility and the risk of putting too much pressure onto the metatarsal heads and toes. I acquired this wonderful piece of equipment a week and a half ago.

I have to rant for a second: What amazes me is that the medical community is willing accept these things as a means of treatment. Sure, it does offer pain relief while walking, but at a huge cost. My left foot is propped up at least 1 1/2 inches higher than my right foot. I'm totally off kilter. Walking, let alone even standing in the boot throws everything off in my body. It's killing my knees, my hips, my back, my posture... all in an effort to stabilize a few small bones and joints. This thing is horrible. A monkey could designed something better. Unfortunately, most doctors are so narrow minded and fixated on their areas of "expertise" that they fail to recognize the damage that something like this causes elsewhere in the body.

So much for the months and months of strengthening my hips and feet to get me to where I was. I feel like a week in this boot has trashed it all!

On the flip side, I've read that cycling shoes can be used instead of das Boot. I've tested this theory by walking around in my shiny Pearl Izumi's, and I think this could be a good substitute. I'm not willing to ruin my babies though, so this weekend I'll try to look for a decent pair of mountain biking shoes. The key is, the soles will need to be ultra stiff. Probably fiberglass or a composite material instead of a flexible plastic/rubber. There can't be any give if I'm gonna sink das Boot.

3) Icing. Still doing this at least once a day, 10 minutes on 10 off, 10 on again. I was icing a lot more, but there really isn't much swelling or inflammation at this point.

4) Pill popping. Calcium supplements. I need as much as I can get. I believe it's recommended that the body gets 1000 mg a day, upwards to 1500. I'm taking 1000 mg twice a day, combined with Magnesium and Vitamin D to help with the to absorption. I'm also taking some Chinese herbs to promote the healing of "traumatic bone injuries." I honestly really don't know what they are, but I'll take my acupuncturist's word for it.
I was taking Motrin/Aleve to help with the initial inflammation and pain, but I abandoned that a couple weeks ago after I read that anti-inflammitories actually can slow the healing process.

5) The Exogen 4000 Ultrasound Bone Healing System. It's a beauty! Long story short - as the name says, it's an ultrasound device promotes the healing of bone injuries. Apparently it's proven in phased studies and FDA approved. I've seen a number of articles and forums that suggest it can reduce the overall time required to heal by well over 30% with a very significant success rate (like 75%+).

Thanks to our awesome medical system in America, they're typically $3,500-4,000 new! Of course, the only people who actually buy the things are those with big PHat insurance plans to help pay for them. They then resell the devices on Craigslist or eBay after they're finished with their treatments. I was able to snag one on eBay that was barely used for $350. The battery life can get 300+ uses at 20 minutes per use; mine's only been used 8 times! Not a bad deal.

Anyway, it's purpose is to significantly speed up the recovery process. If that's the case, then it's well worth the $350! Recommended use is for 20 minutes, once a day. I'm going twice a day. So far it seems to be helping.

6) At least once a week, I'm getting acupuncture. I'm slowly starting to believe more and more in Eastern medicine. Acupuncture helped probably more than anything else when I was treating my hip back in the spring. I'll go out on a limb here and say that I'm seeing similar results with my foot. I've had 3 sessions recently. It's like a flood of fresh blood and energy through the foot, and all the muscles totally chill out. Even if the effects only last for a day, afterwords the foot feels great.

8) Moxa therapy once a day. Also recommended by my acupuncturist. It's a treatment with heat to get fresh blood, oxygen... energy... and qi all into and out of the foot using a burning cigar looking stick - called Moxibustion. It totally relaxes and loosens things up down there. Not sure how much it's helping, but it feels good.


SO - Like I said, I'm basically throwing everything I can at this thing. It's been a little over two weeks since I believe I officially broke my foot (technically about a month since I first incurred the stress reaction). I haven't seen much improvement yet, but I have a feeling I'm starting to turn the corner.

2nd Metatarsal Stress Fracture

It's official. Results back the other day confirmed my fears via a MRI. I have a stress fracture in the second metatarsal of my left foot.

Think of bending a pencil... it may not necessarily break, but it does receive small cracks along the surface. One of those cracks would be akin to a stress fracture. The pain is very acute and has been very localized to a specific point along the top of my foot (approx where the arrow is in picture). It is at it's worst when I apply pressure to the ball of my foot, thereby putting upward pressure on the break.



In the mean time, I'll be in das Boot for at least the next 3-4 weeks. I'm already attempted to swim a little, but in moderation. No kicking, flip turns, or pushing off the wall... in otherwords, lame. Otherwise I don't anticipate much physical activity until I feel more comfortable on my foot.

Bummer.

Hitting Bottom

It's been 2 weeks since that fateful rainy night, when I first experienced a mysterious pain on the top of my foot.

I'm honestly still not sure where I actually went wrong. I can only speculate that I must have mis-stepped somewhere late in the run while going around puddles.

I've been told by many people that this injury should be obvious:
I ran about 55 miles in my Vibram Five-Fingers over the course of 3 weeks... POST MARATHON. I over did it using a new training technique.

OK, not the smartest thing to do in the world, but I was going off a percent of base mileage. So if I typically would've run about 200+ miles in those 3 weeks, then 25% in VFF's shouldn't seem all that far-fetched - especially when I've spend months strengthening my stride and feet by consistently running in racing flats and occasionally in Newtons.

I was also basing this off the sage rule: Listen to your body. I most certainly was listening to my body - My feet had never felt better in my life!... or at least until the 9th mile of my October 27th run. My cuboid pain had eased up significantly, my shin splits finally went away, my ITB and hip even felt better. These are things that have plagued me for YEARS!!

Something I did not consider with my VFF's:
Both feet have very small bunions. Nothing ridiculous, but big enough. I believe this has been caused by some of my dress shoes being too tight around the toe box. The resulting effect of the bunion is the second metatarsal actually gets forced upwards slightly. The foot muscles adjust and atrophy accordingly.
While running, there is then an increased force on my 2nd metatarsal, particularly when running more on my forefoot - and especially if my toes are forced to be separated (like in the VFF's). Typically this wouldn't be a problem for me in normal cushioned shoes.

SO, remove all cushion, separate my toes and there's absolutely no protection to that 2nd metatarsal head when striking on the ball of my foot. Add 55 miles and jumping around a bunch of puddles for a few weeks in one of the rainiest Octobers that Chicago has ever seen... and I have the makings of my own catastrophe. It appears that the muscles in my feet were simply not built up enough to handle the work load.

So much for listening to my body. This was a complete blind siding injury. Absolutely no prior indications that I was having a problem. No prior symptoms. No warnings. No way I could have recognized that my second metatarsal was bearing too much of the blow.

Hence I strongly feel that I couldn’t prevent it. In hind sight I don’t think I would have changed anything, except for what I've done since then. I clearly should not have run another step. I did a track workout the following day (when it still didn't feel too bad), then took 10 days off, then ran 5 easy last Friday per the recommendation of my doctor. Those were both not wise moves.


I have to accept this. The pain at this point is undeniable and not going away. I need to move on and concentrate on fixing it.

As of Sunday, I'm self-diagnosing this as a Stress Fracture of my 2nd metatarsal - in spite of my doctor telling me that it wasn’t on 2 separate occasions, and in spite of much research on numerous barefooting/VFF blogs (where people claim the exact same pains were soft-tissue related).

I had a MRI yesterday. It was a very sobering experience. I hit bottom. I'll see Dr Baker again on Friday for confirmation of the results. Unless some miracle occurs and he sees something that he can manually fix (ie, some sort of dislocation or pinched muscle/tendon) - then treatment for a stress fracture will take about 8 weeks. Doing the math from my diagnosis: that means I'm laid up until basically New Years Day.

A complete travesty, considering I was in the best shape of my life 2 weeks ago. Now I could only dream to walk without a limp. I will certainly lose fitness from here.

Instead I have to work on healing it, and as meticulously as possible so I can return without any trace or potential for relapse.

It remains to be seen how this may affect my plans for the London Marathon in April, 2010.

It's raining this week.

My last entry was "When the sun's shining, make hay."

Well, the sun's no longer shining.

It figures. I talk about it, and I jinks myself.

It's amazing how quickly things can change. I felt awesome last week. I felt like I was finally and fully recovered from the marathon. The 10K was smooth and no problems whatsoever. I took Monday off. Tuesday night, I felt awesome again......... until the end of the run.

For some reason late in Tuesday night's run, my foot started to get sore. I have no idea what caused it. I was a spry little fucker during most of the run, hopping and dodging puddles on the path. Yes, I was running in my Vibram Five-Fingers (more discussion about these later). So whatever happened, it wasn't anything noteworthy. I didn't sense a specific moment that pain started to occur. I did notice that with about a mile to go in the 11 mile run, that my foot was getting sore. It wasn't too annoying to stop, but was enough to want to ice it after the run.

Wednesday morning, it was very tender. My initial thoughts were that it was related to some foot pains I previously had in the weeks prior to the marathon: The top of my 1st metatarsal had been sore, right along a big honkin' vein. I thought that that was the cause of my racing flats being too tight. I can't rule out that these two might be related.

This time around though, the pain is along the top of my second metatarsal. A very small spot. Not radiating pain. No swelling. No discoloration. The pain comes as I push off on the ball of the foot, and stresses the metatarsal at top of the foot.

Anyway, as a typical runner - I spent Wednesday contemplating bailing on our planned track workout. I iced throughout the day, took some Motrin, and by 4:00 I determined that it really wasn't a major issue. I figured that I might be sore after, but it would still be worth hitting the track... especially if I was to continue with my push to get some CARA Circuit points. (Famous last words).

So Wednesday's track workout was great. The first "real" speed since the marathon. Chris, Verdo, and I did 5x 3x 200m cut downs. Similar to in the past: 35ish pace, then 33, then 32. The final 200, I buried at 30 and probably had plenty left in the tank to do a few more sets... but I didn't want to push it. Cardio and muscular wise, I felt great. I was back. It was a good tune up to run the Hot Chocolate 15K. Little did I know that I was creating more damage to myself.

Unfortunately, on the cool down, my foot was not happy with me. When I woke Thursday (yesterday) morning, I could barely walk on it. Immediately, I realized that I might have a serious problem.... aka stress fracture.

I contacted Jill Lohmann (a PT on the Fleet Feet team) as soon as I could, and she was able to take a look at it in the afternoon. In the mean time, I continued an aggressive treatment with ice, compression, and Motrin. After ruling out many different possibilities, Jill wasn't able to rule out a potential stress fracture.

Brings me to today - Woke up feeling no different. I made the call to see a doctor. All day long I iced, compressed, pumped Motrin into the system. By some miracle, I will say that as the day wore on and after I walked around a little to get lunch, I did notice it feeling marginally better. Not much - but enough to give me a ray of hope.

Luckily I was able to get into see an ortho-podiatrist this evening. After he did a few tests (though no X-ray / MRI / Bone-Scan) - he actually ruled out a stress fracture. Apparently it doesn't have quite the same characteristics. That's not to say that a stress fracture isn't possible in the future, if I'm not careful. His claim is that he believes the metatarsal has merely been "stressed." I pushed it to a near extreme. I'm going to need to be aggressive continuing with the ice, compression, and anti-inflammatory. ......No running! At least for a week. I can't imagine wanting to run at this moment, so that's not a terrible thing.

SO - for now I'll just do that and be extra cautious. My circuit season is over. No more points. No more racing... at least now. I can deal with this. It's not the end of the world. I still PR'd in every distance I touched this year. And I'm still not ruling out the USATF XC Club Finals in December. We reassess in a week and in the mean time, I can get back into swimming for the next couple weeks to help maintain my fitness.


And for those of you that have been DYING to say, "I told you so!!"... OK, have your glory now... Yes, quite possibly ONE contributing factor in this has been my running in the Vibram Five-Fingers. To my defense, I'll say that I have NEVER felt better about my running -at least until I woke up the other morning. That is total honesty here. Those Five-Fingers have cleared up some major, long time issues of mine... and only in a matter of a few weeks. But for now, as much as I love those shoes, I admit... I might have pushed the envelope just a little too much for post-marathon running.

Disclosure: This is the first time I'm actually admitting on this blog to my Five-Finger running - I've been doing some of my easier runs in them for the last 3 weeks. Including a couple runs the week of the marathon. I'll explain more in another post. First let me get things back to an even keel.

So, I leave with this - Run every run like it's your last run! Enjoy it. You don't need to blow it out, but soak it up. You never know. I learned a good lesson the other day... I did absoultely NOTHING wrong on the run. I never mis-stepped; I never tripped; I never rolled an ankle; didn't kick anything... NOTHING. I felt great until the very end. And yet, I wound up pissing off something somewhere along the miles.

The trials of miles... and the miles of trials!

When the sun's shining,

make hay!

I'm still in great shape. Why should I just hang 'em up and walk away for the season, if I'm still feeling good? So what if I just ran a marathon? I don't have anything holding me back. I'm not sore anymore. All of my runs since the marathon have slowly felt better. I've had a good recovery thus far.

Hence, the CARA Circuit still has a few more races. I might as well try to pull a few off.


Oak Park - Frank Lloyd Wright 10K

My quick 2 second email reply to Dan McDowell was:

"It actually went well... Except fucking Mike Egle and a bandit drafted off of me for like 6 miles and then crushed me in the last quarter. Egle must have clipped my heels like 10 times too - seriously! I even called him out on it, and he continued to do it. Anyway, it was actually a really cool race experience, right down to the last wire."

That pretty much sums it up.

It really was a cool race though. For once, I knew it was going to be a true race at the very end. Nothing mattered until the kick. Pulling a quote from Once a Runner: "It doesn't matter how fast you can run, it matters how fast you can run when you're tired."

Unfortunately, the other two racers were significantly less hung over than I was, and they were the real deal (Kyle and Ricky's Halloween party was the night before). The two scum suckers rode me until they were finished using me, and then kicked at the perfect moment when they knew they could beat me. I tried throwing in a few surges earlier on, but they steadily matched everything. It went to the wire. When they threw moves on me, I had nothing. I ran for time. They ran to win. I did all the work, they stole the glory. Annoying, but a very good learning experience. Bastards.

The three of us each finished within 6 seconds of one another. I placed 6th overall... technically 5th because one of my guys was a bandit; top 3 were sub 33 and out of the picture. I won my age group; snatched a new 10K PR.

Splits were:
1 - 5:30
2 - 5:41
3 - 5:36
4 - 5:37
5 - 5:36
6 - 5:32
7 - 1:09 (5:22 pace)
= 34:43, 5:35 avg

MY CHICAGO MARATHON

The Chicago Marathon

2:39:38 (PR), 6:05 pace, 180 place overall, 3rd Illinois Age


The whole concept me running a 2:39:38 marathon AND an 82 second negative split is still absolutely mind blowing to me.

Five years ago, I did something that I thought I'd never do... nor ever cared to do. I ran a marathon. It was one of the worst experiences of my life! I cursed the thing many times over. I finished in 3 hours, 39 minutes and change. A few years and 9 marathons later, and I've dropped an hour off that time!! AN HOUR! UnFuckingBelievable! So much for a kid that could've cared less about running when he was growing up. It's taken a week to let this set in, and I'm still having difficulty grasping it.

I'll try to give a recount of how I remember it, but really that's just a memory at this point... and a hazed one full of lactic acid, at that. To have experienced it was quite different. That can be said for any race or marathon.

The whole thing literally just flew by. The anticipation and days leading up to the race absolutely crawled. The waiting game was brutal. Then the miles, which may seem like they dragged on, unfolded so quickly. In reality, it was a very short experience in life. It's one of those things that I couldn't wait until it was over with, but now I absolutely regret wishing it away. I wish I could go back and enjoy every step and breath I took. I want to re-experience the numerous feelings of anxiety, joy, pain, fear, uncertainty, confidence, my runner’s high, and camaraderie,
...and now elation....


I nearly missed my alarm in the morning. Luckily my back-up woke me at 5:35. Thank you, trusty Ironman! The race started at 7:30, and Chris was going to be here in a 40 minutes; I needed to get moving. I packed my gear the night before but still triple checked it. I showered up quickly, and wolfed down a bagel w/ peanut butter and a shot of espresso... and I was out the door. No time to think, just go.

It was a cold 35 degrees, but the wind actually "wasn't all that bad". In Chicago terms, that means it wasn’t a 20mph steady in-your-face-all-the-time wind... only maybe 5-10mph. It was coming out of the North-West. It would hurt late in the race, but if we’re gonna have to have it, we wanted a NW breeze. ...Immediate relief came to me when I walked outside and realized the weather wasn't gonna be a game breaker.

Chris's girlfriend was dropping us off near the starting area. Grant Park was its usual pre-marathon madhouse. 40,000 wiry runners were bouncing all around. Bathrooms and gear checks were a mess; people were doing pointless warm-ups, and stupid pre-race rituals. We were among them. I must have peed 10 times. I choked down Gatorade and a banana. I layered on clothing, only to pitch it all a little later at the starting line. We left our bags at the gear check, and made our way into the "A" corral to meet up with Verdo.

At that point, nothing else mattered. There was no turning back. I completely blocked out the rest of the world. A bomb could’ve exploded somewhere, and I didn’t care (as long as it didn’t interfere with the course). When we finally got into the corral, we had 15 minutes for the gun. Now the waiting game really began. The anticipation and anxiety swelled with every minute. I pealed my extra layers of clothing. I needed to keep my heart rate down, but the cold didn't help. I tried to stop thinking. It was all just a waste of calories.

-----
My race plan was simple: split it as close as I could to 1:20:30, and then throw whatever I had at it in the second half. So easy to say, not so easy to do. In the back of my mind, my most aggressive goal was to roll a 2:39:59. It was going to require a 1 minute negative split in the race. All in, 6:06 average pace... but 6:08.5 through the split, then 6:03.5 to the finish. That thought made me sick. My conscious wanted me to just lay up, and keep it even in the second half. 2:41 would be fine. That would be a nice PR. It was a safer bet. I've never run a negative split in the marathon, in spite of trying. My conscious was being a pussy. In the minutes before the gun, I had to keep telling myself, "Don't think, just do." Stay calm. I had miles of miles in the last 10 months... I had no game breakers today.... I had to go for it. Stay in control, and patience would be rewarded.

Chris was to pace me through the first 8, then I'd pick up Jason around 18 and he'd work with me until 25. Verdo had just run the Berlin Marathon 3 week earlier, so I wasn't sure what to expect from him. I had a feeling that he'd try to go a little faster if he was feeling good, or he'd just hang with me through the half and see what happens after that. I wasn't banking on him though, he had his own plans in the back of his mind.
-----

When the gun went off, I remember being very surprised. It's not as if I didn't know it was coming, I think I just lost myself in the moments before the race. I became very calm. All of a sudden, we were off.

It took 15 seconds to get across the starting line. We probably could’ve gotten closer, but it didn’t matter. As annoying as it may have been, the crowd around us actually helped to keep the reigns in for a little while. The first 1/2 mile was spent weeding through that congestion.

Mile 1 - 6:26.8 - Slow but ok.

Mile 2 - 6:12.1 - A little smoother...

Chris, Verdo, myself, and another guy trying to run with Verdo all worked together. We started slower than we wanted, but I found comfort in that. My heart wasn't shooting through my chest. I didn't go anaerobic out of the gate. I have a feeling that played a huge factor in with me having a successful race.

We ripped down State Street, made our way to LaSalle, and started head out of the loop. The hoards of people spectating in the loop were crazy, as usual. Crowds were deep and the sounds were like deafening walls all along side the first 3 miles. Once we got out of the Loop, it didn't seem quite as chaotic as I remembered in the past. That's a cost of running as aggressive as we were. Most spectators cheer the masses.

Mile 3 - 6:06.2 - Perfect!

We may have gotten a little anxious in the next mile, as we jumped from pack to pack, to avoid some of the headwinds.

Mile 4 - 5:59.6. Too fast, too soon!

If I wasn't careful, this would get out of hand and I'd be dragged to a sub 120 half. That wasn't my plan. We entered Lincoln Park running with a small pack, and not many other runners around. A decision had to be made. Stick with the pack and be protected from some of the light headwinds, or relax, set my own pace, and hope that Chris could and I could manage the wind on our own.

I let the horse race go. Chris stayed with me and we watched them slowly pull away. We were on our own now, with only a few stragglers in front of or behind us.

Mile 5 - 6:09.4 - Much better. Give some back after last mile.

Gave a nod as I passed my apartment.

Mile 6 - 6:06.7 - Perfect.

Chris was immensely helpful by now. I became very comfortable and just followed his lead. We worked along side one another most of the time, but if a wind came he often jumped in front of me. We were slowly picking off the victims of Verdo's pack from ahead. Some of these poor souls (or soles?) went out too fast. A few joined us only to fall off a couple miles later; Verdo's machine continued to pull away.

Mile 7 - 6:09.2 - GU#1; nice work considering the wind.

By now, we were onto Broadway and rolling South. The infamous party in Boystown was just getting started, but they really weren’t ready for the early runners. It was surprisingly quite through this area. It didn’t matter. I was starting to get into the zone.

Mile 8 - 6:09.8

Chris’s selfless pace making task was finished. He got me through 8, and then jumped off at Belmont. His presence was much appreciated. I remember feeling nervous as he left. The easy stuff was done. Now it was time to go to work.

I had 10 miles before I’d see Jason. I needed to start plugging away where I could. A couple guys were around me, but it really seemed like a free-for-all; road kills and killers. Nobody wanted to slay it together for the next several miles. Verdo was easily 20 seconds ahead of me, and after his pack it was very sparse. I just set it on cruise control, and let my stride do its job. For the next 17 miles, I only recall being passed a few times – and anyone that did pass me, I killed them later... with the exception of 1 or 2 guys.

Mile 9 - 6:05.6 - Rolled over Clark and Fullerton - my backyard.

Crowds in the Lincoln Park neighborhood picked me up a lot! I started seeing people on the sides that I recognized. Rock on.

Mile 10 - 6:02.5

I wound through Oldtown, and got a big boost from the people around the Fleet Feet corner. Seeing more teammates and friends on the sidelines was very encouraging. In spite of dropping some slightly faster miles in here, I felt great.



Mile 11 - 6:04.7

I had to pull back a little after Oldtown. I didn’t want to over do it.

Mile 12 - 6:10.2 - Regroup & Hill (my slowest mile of the marathon).

Up and over the Franklin Street bridge. Its one of the few "hills" on the course. It really isn’t that significant, but it did require me to change my effort and stride. I had been on flat ground for so long, that the change was welcoming.

Crowds became deafening again as I re-entered the loop. This was awesome! It would be some of the densest crowds I would see. Literally thousands of people were crammed in on the sidewalks, screaming and cheering. Very cool considering there weren’t many of us passing through. It was difficult to hold their energy back and keep things in control.





Just to show how differently some guys choose to run races, the fellows in the above pictures all went through the split around the same time as I did. I may have put a few seconds on them, but not much. They had been in my sights for a few miles, and sometimes even pacing with me. They were dead after the loop. Bib 909 finished 2:47; Bib 1341 finished 2:43. Not very clean races. To the best of my recollection, in the second half of the race, I was only passed by 1 guy – and it took him over 10 miles to finally do it.

Mile 13 - 6:08.3
HALF SPLIT - 1:20:29 - I mean I went out honestly thinking 1:20:30 for the split. Obviously not everything was the same exact pace, since we were slow in early miles, but could have I possibly timed it any better?? Fucking incredible!! I was completely shocked from what I saw.

Verdo went through the split maybe 20 seconds ahead of me. I could barely see him on this long straight-away. It looked like he was still rolling in a decent sized pack. I think he shredded it up, because that was the last time I saw him.

Heading West away from the Loop, the wind picked up again. Spectators dwindled. Aside from Verdo’s group, it was a single filed line of runners.

I was passed by Bib #725. That was the first time I was passed in a while. He wasn’t rolling much faster than I was; yet he was clearly strong and put about 10m on me. If I was going to man up, and try to go negative, I needed some help - and NOW. I couldn’t sit back and wait for someone else to come along. He was all I had. I made the move and jumped on his back.

Mile 14 - 6:02.2 - It hurt with the wind, but it had to be done; GU#2 down the hatch.

We exchanged the lead a few times as the wind became more annoying. We were approaching the Bonks’ville... the place where so many make it to, yet so few make it through feeling strong. This is typically the beginning of the end for most marathoners. If you don’t feel good by 15-18, then it’s not gonna be pretty! It wasn’t clear how long either one of us would last. I was still strong though; and if he kept rolling up on me, then he was too.

His shirt said something like "Running for Dad Turner" with a DOB/DOD, and he was from Arizona. A nice gesture, considering most guys running this fast don't often give up real estate on their singlets. "Turner" commented to me that this wind was annoying, and said he didn’t think it was supposed to be windy today-? I said, "Welcome to Chicago racing."

Mile 15 - 6:09.9 - Lots of head wind, but we turned at the end of the mile.

We started heading back into the city. Turner was now in front of me. For the first time, I actually felt like I was starting to get into a race... as opposed to a mere execution of miles. I didn't want to go too hard too soon, but this was the beginning of some big kills. A number of the guys that had been with Verdo or between us, were slowly blowing up. Turner and I were picking them off. Just rolling right by them with ease. Some would try to run with us, but nobody would hang on.

Mile 16 - 6:06.6

Turner lit the fire. That was exactly what I needed. I took the lead and charged down the rest of Jackson to Halsted. He would ride on my back or at my side for most of the rest of the race. It eventually got annoying that he never took the lead, but he was still helping to push my effort. Cost benefit analysis: I’d rather have him than not have him. Some tail wind also helped a little for the 17th mile. I was slowly getting my shit together.

Mile 17 - 6:00.9

We killed probably 10 runners in that 2 mile stretch. I was still more concerned about pacing over killing though. As we entered University Village, I saw a giant prize up ahead! I couldn't ignore it. Two Brooks Hanson jerseys. It was one of the last girls on the course that I saw, with her pacer. She didn’t look like she was dying, but if she was going slower than us - then it wasn’t going as planned for a Brooks girl. Dead. I pulled up for a better look, then surged and dropped her. Turner matched my move. Monster Mike and some of the FF crew were on the sidelines screaming at me as it happened. I loved it!



Rounded the corner onto Taylor Street and headed away from the city again. I was looking for some help from Turner, but I got nothing. He clung to my shoulder and off my back. He wasn’t going carry any of the load as we went into the wind for the next mile. I needed to keep strong. Little Italy now. I saw the guy that started the race with us, and then hung with Verdo. I don’t recall his name, but he was a solid runner and he was toast. He even said it. I suspected that many of that pack were falling apart. We rolled on.

After the race, people complained about it being too cold for a marathon. It was 35 degrees. Sure there wind, but not blowing us off the course. All I could think of was my success back in the spring time - Cary and the Shamrock, as opposed to some of the heaters over the summer. I love racing in the cold! I don’t get dehydrated. This was my time to shine.

Mile 18 - 6:07.9 - The last of the wind for a while. It hurt. Turner didn’t help one bit.

I needed a breath of fresh energy. I knew that it would come. He had to be around here somewhere... He was waiting in the wings.

When I saw him towards the end of Taylor Street, where there were very few fans around. I was happy, but I was equally upset. I didn’t understand what he was doing. I thought he was making a mockery of my race. What the hell? Here I was, jamming 6 minute miles, 18 miles deep, trying to do meticulously execute something here, and "You are dressed as fucking Batman!?.... Dude?!?"

It took me a minute to settle down, and stop cussing and laughing. The crowds were scarce at the moment, so I didn’t get it right away. Then someone screamed at the top of his lungs, "GO BATMAN!!!!" This wasn’t a cheer for someone I didn’t know and didn’t like. I couldn't disapprove. He was screaming for the guy that was trying to help me. It became clear... I had my Dark Knight.

The masked man and I were going to blaze the streets. Turner would ride on our tails. We surged.

Pilsen was first to see us. About a half-mile stretch, and they fucking lit up!! Since there weren’t many other runners around us, it meant that much more to have the crowds get into the cheering.

Mile 19 - 5:58.5

Mile 20 - 6:02.2 - 2:02:19 deep, 10K in 38 min if I could hang on; Gu#3.

We passed a handful of guys since picking up Jason. We were just getting started. Turner clipped my heel. He was wearing out his welcome now that I had someone else to work with. He still never took the lead. He knew it, but he needed us and we were still stronger together.

Jason then asked an interesting question, "Do you want Verdo?" The thought didn’t even occur to me. I couldn’t see him, and I didn’t care. Jason said he was a minute ahead, and if we pushed then we might be able to catch him. I didn't want this to get out of control. I told him to keep it nice and steady. The last thing I needed was to start dropping 5:50's. Let him come to us. He merely became a target of a guy that I could've been running with, had I not stuck to my plan.

Mile 21 - 5:58.2

Chinatown blew up as we rolled through. They loved the Caped Crusader! The dragon was out in the streets, people were screaming at the tops of their lungs. Drums were beating. It was a very festive place for Batman and anyone else around him to be running. It made me smile and grimace at the same time... Was I happy or was I tired?



The first 21 miles weren’t a big deal. They rolled by. I barely flinched. This was starting to become a task now. Nothing was nagging. It was tiring and dealing with my old friend, Lactic Acid. Muscles were becoming numb. Arms started to weigh more. Foot falls became work. Ignore the pain and just follow the leader. Don't think, just run. We immediately took a few more road kills. There weren’t many left.

Mile 22 - 5:57.6

We ran along the Dan Ryan expressway for the next mile. This is typically a dead-zone for any crowd support of any kind. Runners become victim of their own mental collapse. Jason said "Lookie what I see!" To my surprise, Verdo was up ahead. I tried to ignore it. I wanted to ignore everything.

When we approached the turn at 33rd St, typically one of the most barren parts of the Chicago Marathon and only places where you could usually hear a pin drop... all we could hear was utter chaos. Music was blaring; easily a couple thousand people lined the street and overpass; a guy was screaming over a loud speaker... He kept hammering, "Batman and Robin everyone!!" The place absolutely exploded!! "Batman and Robin!"

It was impossible to ignore that thunderous mass! They practically threw us a half mile, from Wentworth to State Street.

Mile 23 - 05:56.6



I was exhausted after that. Once it quieted down to a thin line of fans on the streets, I had a brush back with reality. "I was blowing out sub 6 minute miles, Jesus." The lactic acid was real by now. No cramps though. Still OK. I told myself that I could deal with "only Lactic Acid." I didn’t want to think. Thinking burns calories. I didn’t have any calories to burn.

Verdo was getting closer now, he was 50m away. Then all of a sudden, Turner manned up. He was no joke either. He was done with us. As we turned from State onto 35th, he took us out. I felt was so used. That bastard. Ride on my ass for 11 miles, and now he crushes me. Sandbaggin, son of a bitch.

Jason recognized that I wasn't going to match him, so we kept it steady. We hit Michigan Ave. Wind immediately blasted us in the face. He jumped in front. I had to swat his cape a couple times. It was funny, but I didn’t have the energy to waste playing silly games.

About 3 1/2 miles to go. The next 2 or 2 1/2 would be the most difficult miles of the course. I needed to be strong as we approached to Verdo. I wanted him to work with us. I wanted to help him. I wanted him to help me. In my years of running, I’ve learned one very important thing: this is not an individual’s sport. It’s a collective effort. You’re stronger as a whole than as one. Unfortunately, it was too late here. We passed him, and he slowly fell of the back.

Mile 24 - 6:01.8 - Slow pace due to the wind.

No more water or Gatorade! I had my fill from all of the earlier stations. I had been drinking a little every other mile until now. I actually couldn't remember the last time I took any Gatorade? Maybe a couple stations ago? It didn't matter. The thought of it now made me sick, and yet these kids were crowding into the middle of the street trying to force it down my throat. No more! This was like letting go of my binky. I knew if it wasn’t in my tank now, with a little over 2 miles to go, then it wasn’t going to help.

We crossed over the Rte 55 expressway. My heart was pounding. Everything hurt now. The simple front-to-back and repeat movement was all I could do. I rode on Batman’s cape as much as I could. I tried to ignore everything else. Shut it all out. Jason not-so-kindly reminded me that the race wasn’t over yet. Many people quit here. Some very good runners. We were passing a number of them. We blew by Joe Guinness, another fellow Fleet Feet runner. Joe’s a much better runner than I am. He must have been having a very bad day; I was having a very good day.

Mile 25 - 06:02.4 - Wind.

I felt like molasses. Still, we blew by a guy that was hunched over, staggering. The lactic acid had become too much for him. His body was shutting down. I tried not look, for fear I'd become infected by his plague. I wasn’t ready to quit. No matter the struggle, I wasn't done. We were still maintaining pace, albeit with more effort. I knew at that moment that I was strong. Unlike 99.99% of people at this point of a marathon: I had confidence.

We passed by Pflip’s place, and amongst the masses of spectators was a whole crew of my friends going totally berserk as they saw Jason and I hammer by.

Jason turned to me, and screamed at the top of his lungs, "GOOO!!! Go into it! You’ve got 2:40, but you’re not done yet! Don’t give it up! GET AFTER IT!!!" He pealed off. I had just under a mile to go on my own.

It was like a rocket being fired out of a cannon!! Looking back at my splits, it didn’t improve much or at all. Mostly because of wind and Roosevelt hill, but the effort and intensity went through the roof. I felt like I was going faster then, than at any point during the race.

Crowds were ear-piercing by now. Didn’t matter. I was blind, deaf, and dumb at this point. All that mattered was getting to the finish as fast as I possibly could. I used a few guys in front of me to pull my way through. They had nothing on me. I took them at the turn onto Roosevelt, and buried a slew up the hill.

Mile 26 - 6:02.5 - Hill.

I finished the hill, and rounded the corner onto Columbus. My heart was screaming out of my chest. My body wanted it to be over. This push wasn't kind. My mind wouldn’t let go. I barreled down the straight. One last guy in front of me, but there was no way I could catch him. He kicked just as hard as I did.

A hundred meters to go now. All in. Every second counts. I saw the clock as I approached the finish line, and I knew - I was under 2:40!

Finish read 2:39:52, but I had 15 seconds of cushion on the clock. 2:39:38 was the official time.

I couldn’t believe it. I fucking crushed that thing!!

Turner finished about 40 seconds ahead of me - he had to have thrown down sub-5:50’s in the last 2-3 miles to get that. I never saw him in the chutes to Congratulate him / Thank him / Tell him "You’re welcome!"

Verdo rolled up a few guys behind me. As much as he hates to admit it, he had an awesome race considering he just ran 2:47 in Berlin a few weeks earlier. He split in 1:20:08, and finished 2:39:58. An 18 second negative split! Very solid, though I know he wanted faster and was disappointed.

Split recap:

.......SPLIT.../...LAP.../...PACE
5K – 0:19:22 /19:22 / 6:14
10K - 0:38:18 / 18:56 / 6:06
15K - 0:57:21 / 19:03 / 6:08
20K - 1:16:22 / 19:01 / 6:07
HALF - 1:20:29 / 6:08
25K - 1:35:19 / 18:57 / 6:06
30K - 1:54:09 / 18:50 / 6:04
35K - 2:12:45 / 18:36 /5:59
40K - 2:31:22 / 18:37 / 6:00
2nd HALF - 1:19:09 / 6:02
OVERALL - 2:39:38 / 6:05.3

82 second negative split!

180th Place out of 34,000 finishers
169th Male, only 11 Women ahead of me
32nd Age Group
3rd State/Age

An absolutely perfectly executed race!!
If I was an artist, this would be my masterpiece.

When I finished the race, I still had energy. For some dumb reason, just like after Boston... I felt great! I trotted through the recovery area. I bounced around for a few minutes. I eventually settled down, and received a great big hug and kiss from Sarah at the end of the recovery area. Chris Woods was also waiting there - no kisses for him, but definitely a hug.

Once I calmed down - I recognized how cold it actually was. I mean 35 degrees in a singlet and short shorts isn't all that comfortable. The pain would soon settle in, but it was soooooo worth it!

After party at Stanley’s was as nuts as a bunch of tired marathoners could’ve made it. Many beers, and a giant team Car Bomb in honor of numerous PR’s.

A huge thank you to all of my friends that braved the cold and came out to cheer on the runners on! Especially thank you to Jason and Chris for pacing me though the thing. You immensely helped!

A week later, and I'm still on cloud-9.

It was truly MY CHICAGO MARATHON.

12 hours until...

The Chicago Marathon

This is my 10th go at the marathon... Chicago # 5.

You'd think I'd know what I'm getting myself into and would be able to relax a little. But all I have to say is that I'm still nervous as hell. Butterflies like mad in my stomach until the gun goes off at 7:30AM.

Tomorrow I'm going to attempt a ridiculous effort. I'm afraid to even talk about it because I'm concerned that I'll jinx myself. When all is said and done, this should be a large PR.

Before that happens though, I have to continue to deal with going stir crazy.

----------------------------

The other day, I ran a 4:58 mile on the track. Not especially something to cheer about, but it was my mile PR and I'm happy to have cracked the 5 minute mark. Far from what I should be able to run. It was 6 seconds faster than the OMM a few months ago though (we'll ignore the fact that was done after a long run). It was also about 4 seconds faster than my fastest mile last year.

Point being: in the last 20 weeks, I've run a shit ton of miles - more than I ever have. I feel like my training has been solid and smart. I've improved my stride a ton, and for the most part, I am injury free.

As for the race itself: The weather is looking to be colder (high 30's) with some light wind (but probably the typical steady Chicago wind)... but nothing game breaking. I'll have some pacing help from Mr Woods, Mr Creamers, and hopefully Mr Giorty. As long as I can keep things calm, cool, and under control... I should be set up for an incredible run.

The 2 Week Itch

The Itch is starting to set in.

In spite of being a far cry from my peak, I still ran 61 miles in the last 7 days. I'm only a week an a half a way from the marathon. I want to run more - I'm hungry today, but I need to cut back. I'm gonna have to take the day off. I'd like to take 2 days off, but I don't think that'll happen. I'm itching like a crack addict right now.

Irrational behavior begins in the marathon taper. I've mentioned this in the past, with Boston. A marathoner will start obsession about his race... and pretty much anything that revolves around it. So far this week I've been good, but the itch will start soon enough. The fact that I'm even writing about this means it's already begun.

I'll soon wind up being completely useless at work... spending the entire day building excel models that try to give me a mile-by-mile strategy... Of course, the weather could fuck that up so I'll have to spend hours staring at 5 different internet weather sites. Obsessing about everything. I'll start shopping for gear that I don't need. I'll probably make some sort of big purchase (actually, I already did - I bought Sarah a sweet camera last week)... so I'll make another one. I also attempted to buy some Vibram Five-Fingers. Those are very cool and I think could be a useful too - but they certainly won't help my taper. Someday. Probably won't work well going into the winter either though...? WTF? Why would I even look at them? Fortunately, they were out of stock in my size. This will go on and on and on. I'm gonna go stir crazy.


Anyway, in the last week I've had a few solid runs:

Last Saturday's long run was 17 miles w/ about 12 at race pace'ish. I'm not really sure the actual pace because I didn't have markers. It felt smooth and fast. Some of it was probably faster than race pace.

Monday night tempo was at race pace again. 8 miles worth. The temperature has finally started to drop a little, so it made for a very pleasant run... minus the 20-30mph winds from every direction. It was pretty much a futile effort. My 1/2 mile splits were anywhere from 2:50's to 3:20's. I hammered the last mile at 5:40 though... and into the wind. So much for knowing what race pace under ideal conditions feels like.

Wednesday night's speed - absolutely perfect marathon weather!! (See I'm obsessing about this!) 5x 3x200 cut-downs. It was all about quick feet, a smooth stride, and pushing the pace... but not draining myself too much. The last 200 was at 30 seconds. It left me wanting more. Hence, I'm itching today.

Over the next week, it'll be a handful of easy runs, probably 1 more shorter goal-pace run (just to wake my legs up a bit), and 1 more short distance track workout next Wednesday (the 1600 should be interesting).

In the mean time, my ADHD and OCD is clearly taking over.

Yeah, so... ?

Last bigger track workout before the marathon.
Yasso's 10x 800's... run at 2:35 pace w/ 1:30 seconds of rest.

I've done this workout a number of times. The last time I did it, it was 10x 800 back in August at basically the same pace (...If I remember correctly, it may have actually been marginally better weather though - last night was cooler but extremely humid).

Bart Yasso's theory is that if you can run 10x 800 before your marathon, you should be able to run the marathon at the pace of your 800's. Such as, if I can run at a consistent pace of 2:35 without being destroyed, then I could shoot for a 2:35 marathon. From experience, I know this isn't true... at least not for me. But it's definitely fair to say that if I couldn't run a 2:35 workout, then I have no business even attempting a 2:35 marathon... or a 2:40 marathon, for that matter.

Point being - I ran the workout faster than I intend on even attempting the marathon. 2:35 is way out of my league right now. But 2:40 may not be. Let's call that 5 seconds of cushion built into Yasso's theory.

In spite of the humidity and being sluggish for the warm up and first rep, I felt pretty smooth and comfortable for the entire workout. The consistency in my splits shows this. After the cool down, I was still hungry for more miles, and the thought occurred to me after that maybe I should have done 12 reps instead of 10? I don't think it would've been a problem. Oh well... after all, I am in a taper.

Splits:
1 - 2:40.5
2 - 2:35.4
3 - 2:35.6
4 - 2:35.7
5 - 2:35.5
6 - 2:36.8
7 - 2:35.8
8 - 2:34.6
9 - 2:35.3
10 - 2:30.1
2:35.5avg (77.5 pace)

The only thing I have to fear, is fear itself.

Last night's tempo run was ridiculous. Hands down, it was the best workout I've had all year.

I was sweating the run all day. I was tired. I was still feeling last week’s mileage. I was especially still feeling some remnants of Sunday's nasty hangover. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to pull together mid-5:40's for a total tempo of 8 or 9 miles.

Once I finally got moving though, that pressure let up. My body woke up from its self-induced coma. On the warm up, I started to realize that maybe I needed to man-up and hang with the big boys. Rob Chenoweth and a few others were going an eye popping 10. I've never done a 10 tempo before...

It was myself, Rob, Derek Holland, Mark Wherman, and another guy. They're all faster and more experienced runners than I am. Since we were basically going out with my half pace, I figured I should be able to hang with them to the turn and then see what happens from there. The goal would then become to hold that pace until the finish.

I never really fell off the back of the pack. Everything was going smoothly. I was particularly paying attention to holding my stride together... and it did! The pack eventually shook up around me. Derek went shorter and starting hammering some blistering sub 5:20’s; Rob dropped off after 6 with some stomach issues; and I rode with Mark and the other guy until they dropped the hammer at 8.5. Myself: There was no way I was able to hold Mark’s pace at the end but I pulled my own trigger late in the run. I went from 5:40's to posting a nice 5:36 in the last mile. I have to admit it was pretty motivating to roll with them, and hang on the way I did.

We rolled about 9.95mi (the 2nd and 9th mile are a little short). 57:09 total, 5:43 average, a big 41 sec negative split! Not only was it my longest, but also one of my fastest tempos of the year! It was also roughly my 10mi PR to boot. Not too shabby considering it was on the heels of my peak week. A nice consolation prize for my Chicago 1/2.

I'm gradually pulling together what looks to be a potential ballz-to-the-wall marathon in 3 weeks time.


Splits:
1 - 5:55.6
2 - 5:38.4
3 - 5:47.5
4 - 5:41.3
5 - 5:52.2
6 - 5:40.1
7 - 5:40.0
8 - 5:41.0
9 - 5:36.3
10 - 5:36.7
Total - 57:09.1
5:42.9 avg, 41sec neg split