Weeks Sixteen- Eighteen: Taper Madness

It creeps up on you with slow boiling precision, awakens you in the middle of the night whispering strained nonsense into your muscle fibers, force feeding you caffeinated air, your corneas following an imaginary ping pong game played between two nipple chafed marathon zombies dropping out at mile 24. Your mouth is dry, your palms are sweaty and no medication seems to be able to fix, what can only be described as TAPER MADNESS!

After successfully running 20 miles, my training schedule requires me to put on the brakes for the remaining 3 weeks until the marathon, reducing my mileage significantly each week, resting my body and preparing for the final 26.2 miles. These are my taper down weeks, and as they might appear to be getting easier physically they are testing my mental endurance. Just ask Hannah who, like the angel she is, has had to put up with my shifty eyed uneasiness.

The "madness" begins when you find yourself with more time on your hands then usual because of the reduced mileage. With that extra time many find themselves working on there passions, or spending more time with their loved ones. I on the other hand made a list of ways my marathon dreams would be shattered during the race ranging from a blister on the 7th mile to being mauled by an escaped Bronx Zoo black bear on the 22nd. Others included:

1. Falling into a pothole while daydreaming about the newest Twilight movie.

2. Grabbing poison instead of gatorade not knowing that my nemesis was working the water station.

3. Laughing at a t-shirt that read, "Our sport is your sports punishment," and then tripping on a discarded sign reading, "Pain is just weakness leaving your body." (Damn you, clever runners!)

4. While getting my picture taken by an onlooker, discovering my true passion as a fashion model and dropping out.

5. Coming in second.

6. Spontaneous combustion.

7. Running next to a man who looks just like me, realizing he's my long lost twin and stopping for coffee mid-race to discuss his thoughts on investing in my new small business idea of cereal flavored milk.

The madness then continues with a bit of obsessive behaviors. I have frequented weather.com so many times I think I could be a meteorologist. ("The weather on sunday calls for partly cloudy sky's, chance of rain 30%, highs in the low 60's. Back to Peter with the Sports...) I've have been re-reading my marathon book looking for inside tips, freaking out about my fundraising, trying desperately to rid myself of this cold, and feasting on unhealthy dessert foods like a freshly dumped high schooler. In this increased anxiety ridden state, my social skills have also suffered leaving me reduced to limp handshakes and turrets intrusions- SHITFUCK COFFEE! Is there any hope?

Well it seems that a trip to the Fitness Expo has me cured. I am officially in the marathon, with my bib #54730 E to be worn on my Fred's Team jersey. I have trained over 4 months, running hundreds of miles, going through two pairs of shoes and boxes of pasta. I drank a fair bit, but kept it under control... for the most part, and am in the best endurance shape of my life. I am ready!

Now if only I can remember on sunday to turn back the clocks, wake up at 4:30am, meet my team at 5:30 for a picture in Time Square, properly stretch, eat a filling meal, not over hydrate, maintain a healthy pace, stay focused, listen to my body and remember my training, then I should be ready for 26.2. (phew)

Wish me luck and I'll see you at the finish-FUCKBATS!-line. oh no.

Week Fifteen: 20 Mile Haikus

Run over the bridge

The beginning of the trek

A beautiful start.

IT Band holding

A swig from my Gatorade

An old woman farts.

West side highway story

Up to 105th

Halfway feels so far.

Hi wobbling legs

What do you say we get through

No problem Andy.

Joy washing over

I have just finished 20 miles!

Hips and knees angry.

3 more weeks until the Marathon! The 20 miles is the longest I will be running until the big race even though the marathon is 26.2 miles long. The last six is going to be pure will.

Week Fourteen: The Asian Rubdown

I was determined to fix my left leg with a sports massage and Jane's Apotherapy and Massage was my destination. I'm a newbie to the world of massages, having only experienced one while staying in Dublin, an ambient waterfall of soft rubs and sweet accents, and I had a feeling this was going to be a little different. When I got there I was greeted by an asian woman standing about 5' 3" who looked me up and down like a hawk stalking her prey. I had the option of a swedish massage or a deep tissue massage and after she used the word "fix" in referring to my leg if she performed a deep tissue massage, I was in. She asked 1-4, 1 being the area that hurt the most, what I wanted fixed. I started with my left hip (1) and worked my way down to my left calf (4.) She told me to undress and left the room with me in it, hoping this modern day witch doctor could cure me of my ailments.

A day later my left leg looked like it was laid out into the sun like a strawberry popsicle. Holy crap she kicked my ass! She pummeled my leg like a seasoned octagon fighter placing my muscles into quiet submission, using a skipping rock shaped instrument to dig into the depths of my aching muscles and tendons. She kept saying "good boy" in broken english and for a moment of biting pain I pictured the confessions she could get out of people during such pleasant torture.

The redness was said to dissipate and I ran two days later feeling a definite difference. The massage in combination with an IT Band strap that I ordered for my leg made my next long run so much smoother.

I'm Back!

20 miles next week

Week Thirteen: Injury Report, "Put a steak on it!"

(Click to make larger)

It was a bad week, plain and simple. After completing 16 miles two weeks ago my left leg was feeling some serious pain along the outside part of the thigh down to the knee. I ran the half marathon as well but felt something off, days after the race. On tuesdays I was back on the road for a 4 mile run, but the second I started moving I felt a pain behind my knee going to my left thigh. This was in combination to a soreness from my achilles up to my calf, also on my left leg. I turned around and headed back to the apartment with some questions for the interweb.

Possible problems:

Hip Bursitis
Inflammation of the bursa over the outside of the hip joint, so-called trochanteric bursitis, can cause pain with hip movement. Treatment of hip bursitis is often effective, but the condition has a problem of coming back and sometimes becoming a persistent problem.

Iliotibial Band Syndrome
The iliotibial band is a thick, fibrous band that spans from the hip to the shin; it lends stability to the knee joint, and is attached to muscles of the thigh. ITBS is caused when the band becomes inflamed and tender.

Achilles Tendonitis

Achilles tendonitis is a painful condition of the tendon in the back of the ankle. Left untreated, Achilles tendonitis can lead to an increased risk of Achilles tendon rupture.

I figured I had a combination of a slight IT Band strain, and achilles tendonitis, though after watching an episode of CSI miami, I thought I might have been poisoned by a night club owner who injects his victims with a venomous syrum that brings on paralisis. Hopefully I can rest and get past this hiccup.

Week Twelve: Philly Half (Pint)

I was in corral 16, slowly moving up with my group to the start line, a little nervous, but excited for my first race. The man next to me reassured me that this was going to be a walk in the park, an odd choice of words, but calming none the less. Discarded clothes lined the sides of the road as people shed their warm-ups and I could only figure that this would be a great day to be homeless. And I was off.

I was running in the Philadelphia Half Marathon, the only race I am participationg in before the NYC Marathon. I had to be up around 6:30 to make it to city hall for a 7:45 start. I got off the couch I was sleeping on and walked blindly to the kitchen of my friend's apartment to figure out what the fridge had to offer in hangover remedies. Yup, rule #8 Don't drink alcohol before a long run, was virtually ignored the saturday before the race when I met with Pat and Greg, my Philadelphia boozom-buddies. We embarked on an afternoon of beer flights and buffalo wings, exploring bars and restaurants, telling myself that I would need to stop around 10pm and turn to water for the rest of the night. It was rounded to 10:30, then 11:00 as I stumbled to the couch to sleep, Pat on the floor next to me, Greg walking to another bar.

Miles 1-3 proved to be cleansing as I gulped down water at my first official water station and along with the cool air and company of other runners moved passed the slight hangover and into committed running mode. We ran through the city proper until about mile 5 when we branched out and followed a beautiful river in a more rural area. Placed throughout the race were raised stages where local bands played cover songs and original music to fuel our run. After consuming a great deal of water before and during the race I did find myself in need to go to the bathroom (#1) around mile 8. "No problem," I said as I veered off into some woods along the side of the road only to trip on a raised root and nose dive into the dirt below. Luckily I was wearing like most people, the orange ING marathon shirt that was given during the fitness expo the day before, and therefore could not be singled out after the race as the guy who 'face planted it' while trying to take a pee. (Karma perhaps?) There were just enough supporters scattered throughout the race to keep a positive momentum in my head. I rounded the last bend back around city hall with a slight stiffness in my left leg, unrelated to the fall, but pushed it through the last 100 meters. Pat and Greg showed up to support and I crossed the finish line at 2:14:44.

Yay!

I will definitely do a few things differently come the Full marathon like revoke friend privileges from Pat and Greg and get a decent nights sleep, but I'm successfully one step closer to the big show with little over a month to go.

Week Eleven: Mile High Club

She was sitting next to me gazing into my eyes. I leaned over, caressed her hair, and promptly stood up. She followed behind me rubbing my leg as I made my way down to the bathroom. I told her she had to be as quiet as possible.

She, was a stray pit bull that had been following me for the past few blocks and I, just finishing my run, was walking to a park bathroom to wash my hands. As far as flying, the last time I was on a plane I sat next to an obese woman with a knack for clearing her throat like a miner with black lung while continually sucking on lemon drops, neither of which led to any flying forays. On the ground however, I did manage to increase my mileage to a best ever 16.

The run took about 2 hours and 45 min, and left me feeling sore enough that I was "forced to watch" So You Think You can Dance from my couch. My legs are taking a beating on the concrete and I think I'm starting to feel signs of wear. I am due for a new pair of running shoes soon, which might help with the cushioning. Next week I am off to Philadelphia for my first race, a half marathon. It will be interesting running in an event where I don't have to find a vendor to provide water for my soggy cash. Until then, the sky's the limit.

Week Ten: The Marathon Runs

Warning: The post you are about to read contains graphic content, viewer discretion and spastic colons be advised.

Coming off the halfway point I have seen and experienced quite a few things during my training, but nothing in my Marathon for Dummies book warned me about this most recent event. During one of my midweek strolls over the Williamsburg bridge I caught a case of the BG's or as anyone who knows how to gross me out with the full version, Bubble Guts. Yes, I was mid bridge with last nights chicken quesadilla fighting to see the light of day and no bathroom for the next mile.

The night before, was a normal affair, failing a crossword puzzle with a beer in hand and hoping the Yankees would contract ebola before the playoffs. I ordered dinner from a local spanish joint, one where personalizing your meal is a choice between red and green sauce. Devouring the dish was no problem and I had just enough room in my stomach for a night cap of Frosted Flakes before bed. I had planned to run before work the next morning but forgot to set my alarm so I awoke later then expected with a sense of urgency to get my run in time, throwing some clothes on and rushing out the door. A mile in, I was aware that I had skipped the all important morning meeting with my friend John, but I was feeling pretty good and kept on trucking to the base of the Williamsburg Bridge passing some morning commuters on their bikes (cheating much?) and made my way up before hearing the dreaded rumbling sound in my stomach, similar to the idling of a 18 wheeler or a quiet thunder foreshadowing inclement weather. The steady climb up the bridge was then again disrupted by a series of muffled internal cries, like a man being held under his will in a trunk of a car. The running slowed to a walk and I assessed my situation. Continue to walk with clenched determination until I reached Manhattan, or run and risk pulling a Paula Radcliffe all over the bridge. I pictured a doctor in a delivery room yelling at me, "Either way you like it it's coming out!" The rumbling continued and I knew I had to let some of the quesadilla back into the atmosphere. Like a trained assassin putting a silencer on a gun I squeaked a few brow arching gems and continued. Around the top of the bridge my threat alert had turned from Amber to Red, and I picked up my pace. My facial expression must have been an obvious indicator of my troubles, cause I caught a pitied glance from a woman who obviously had previously gone through a similar affair, but had taken her time this morning primping her hair, eating breakfast and relishing in her morning BM. Damn you I thought as I stumbled like a wounded soldier down the back half of the bridge. I was getting closer. I could see a row of fast food restaurants about 500 yards away and spastically kept my pace. I tried to will myself to salvation, muttering positive reinforcements out loud; "You can do this, you are a strong person, this is nothing, just a little pain, all part of the process," but the conversation quickly turned to "Please don't shit your pants!, for the love of god hold it in!" I crossed into Manhattan territory and waited for traffic to pass as patiently as a man can be before having a quesadilla baby and darted to McDonalds thinking I was in the clear only to have the restroom occupied. I rushed past Burger King fearing the same and made my way into a local pizza place. Using the bathroom required a purchase and I bought a water with a sweat infused dollar bill. The man behind the counter reluctantly gave me the key probably figuring he had just enabled some strung out addict safe haven for a quick fix. But screw him. I had made it, key in hand, nothing to stop me. I opened the bathroom door and went in.

I had that meeting with John that morning, a very long one, and ran home with a smile on my face like boy acing a school exam only I don't think I'm gonna put this victory on my refridgerator... just a blog.

Week Nine: Halftime

I am halfway into my training and feel pretty good about the whole experience so far. I have stayed on schedule and only missed two days of running in 2 months of training. Here is my running schedule to get a better idea of the mileage from the last 8 weeks and the weeks to follow:

I am running in the novice program, something that I haven't chosen since my lapse in playing Halo on Xbox where I was tired of being fragged to death by Covenant forces. I have run approximately 146 miles burning over 16,000 calories in the process which brings me to my diet, something that ranges from a healthy afternoon salad to an all you can eat buffalo wing bonanza. It really doesn't matter what I eat as long as I'm putting a lot of carbs into my belly, something I enjoyed before training. I have created some tasty treats that are perfect for my running.

Carb Your Enthusiasm:

2 Slices wheat bread

1 small bag of lays potato chips

Sliced jalapenos

hot sauce

Place chips on bread, add jalapenos and hot sauce. Squish together like a sandwich and eat

Mainly I eat cereal and call it a day. God I love cereal. Buffalo wings and cereal. I think I smell another recipe in the making. I'll get back to you on that.

I ran my taper down this week and am back up to 15 for next week. Breaks over. SOMEONE THROW ME A WING!

Week Eight: 13.1 miles of Advice

I have run a half marathon! I didn't find any races that synched up with my running schedule so I just ran around Brooklyn and Manhattan alone like a crazy person for 2 hours. If it was a race then I came in first, or at least a close second next to an angry mexican who chased down a cab for 10 blocks after leaving his cell phone inside. I averaged about a 10.5 minute mile, which considering the heat, was a great run. Now that I have completed a half marathon, earning my stripes, and am one week away from the mid-point in my training, I'd like to give back a sliver of my running expertise to anyone thinking of Questing for the Marathon. (ahem)

1. Do not wear cotton shirts during long runs unless you enjoy the sensation of stingy nipples. (Some people do)
2. You will sweat more then you ever thought possible. No, you do not have Robin Williamitis.
3. Paying for water at a vending machine or a Hot Dog stand is virtually impossible if you've been storing your money in your sock.
4. When running in the rain, make sure your shorts have a draw string. It's only funny the first time, trust me.
5. If you are thirsty and out of water and money, you may use your mid-run gross physical appearance to swindle a free bottle.
6. Be prepared to get dirty looks from folks in traffic, they're just mad at themselves for not using that gym membership they got last christmas.
7. You may let your mind wander from time to time during a run; coming up with excuses for why you like the Twilight Saga so much is acceptable.
8. Do not drink alcohol the night before a big run! Do not drink alcohol the night before a big run! Do not drink alcohol the night before a big run! Oh shit.
9. For every pot hole you step in, a puppy dies. So Avoid them!
10. People always ask how long the distance is for a full marathon. Know the answer: 457 miles.
11. You are not on a sail boat so stop waiving to everyone you pass.
12. The average runner is 17% faster in cooler conditions which only gives you a few more weeks to really suck.
13. If people lose interest in your training, tell them you are running on two prosthetic legs. Nothing like a comeback story.
14. Invest in real running shoes. Hipsters will forgive you.
15. Having a running partner is a great way to train. Dibs on Tom Jones!
16. When people say they don't think running is a real sport, just tell them, "That's something a fat person would say."
17. And finally, embrace your new physique. Yes, your arms are puny and you've contracted Danny Glover Ass from running so much, and your ability to hold your breath underwater while taking a bath isn't impressing your girlfriend, but you are a Super Runner now, so put on your prosthetics and get out on the road. Like Steve Prefontaine said just before he was tragically killed by out of control car, "ahhhhhhhhhhh!"

There you have it, I hope you have gained some ammunition to use against the beast that awaits you. Till next time, my students. (Theme song to 3-2-1 Contact)

Week Seven: City Headphones

I usually don't wear headphones when I run; it feels more like a distraction then anything else. I instead prefer to engage with world around me, mainly because I don't want police to find my car battered body next to an ipod with "Ultimate Dance Party: Volume 27" playing. But I can't say that running without headphones doesn't come with a few surprising city consistencies . I decided to catagorize the sounds of an average 3 mile run, writing the sound and the number of times I heard it to better understand the phenomenon of the "City Headphone."

Cars moving: (infinite)

Car honk: 7

Truck screech: 9

People laughing: 8

Men arguing: 3

People yelling: 10

Baby's crying: 2

Bums asking me for money: 1

Dogs barking: 4

Music playing (businesses/homes/boom-box): 10

Drunk women/men speaking incoherently: 2

Douche Bag Long Islanders making fun of my running shorts: 1

Foreign accents: 3

Ambulance: 1

Construction:1

Water shooting from hydrant: 1

Sports activities: 8

Running to the beat of the NY streets: Priceless

I guess it can be a little annoying to run in the city, but I'm used to it at this point. Next time I go out maybe I'll listen to some of these "Running" songs for inspiration.

Born to Run- Bruce Springsteen

Run Run Run- The Velvet Underground

Running Down a Dream- Tom Petty

Run Like Hell- Pink Floyd

Runnin' Away- Bob Marley

The Road- Tom Jones (just had to get him in there)

I ran 12 miles sans headphones and am ready for a half marathon next week.

Week Six: A Masshole in Marshfield

I have finally experienced my first run completely hung over. I know, you thought it had already happened, a reasonable assumption, but this week was the first. I never realized how painful of a decision that would be. To put my personal hangover run into perspective imagine running with a fat hobo on your back screaming into your ear, while the sun knuckle punching your thighs, tasting your alcohol sweat running from your forehead reminding you why tequila beer and wine don't mix, and trying to figure out the rubix cube which is your sagging scrotum and how it managed to get so turned around and caught up in the back of your adidas shorts. Now add a good stumble in front of a 3 teenage girls, a four minute dry heave and you're there. The reason for my slight lapse of judgement was due to a week long vacation, which is laughable in my position of limited work of late, but vacation I did. The destination- MARSHFIELD, (sound familiar) a beach community in the south shore of Massachusetts. The last time I ventured to Marshfield it was just with Hannah, however this time around I had the company of some NYC and Boston friends. Running was not on the list of priorities that week, though I did manage to get through my training. Instead, we became beach bums for days at a time, chatting about the Marshfield Vampire and Camel Spiders, getting the high score in photo hunt, and enjoying the water and the company of others.

Karaoke

On the beach with my parents, and aunts

Bonfire into Fenway Park puzzle completion

It was one of the most enjoyable weeks of the summer and made for a truly relaxing oasis, but now it's back to the grind and another long run of 12 miles by the end of next week. Wish me luck, and don't let me near a tequila shot.

Week Five: The Human Race: by Andy Sarno

During one night this week I ran in the worst conditions imaginable, in a severe storm, over the Williamsburg Bridge in Brooklyn. I have decided to tackle that story as a screenplay, so to bring forth a more theatrical account of that night. Enjoy!

[Interior, Brooklyn Apartment]

It was a cool wednesday night in Brooklyn, following a dreary day of on and off rain that postponed Andy's scheduled run to 10 in the evening. Andy, an exceptionally handsome man had already consumed a good deal of water that day and after finishing a bowl of Raisin Nuts, and reading the New York Times, was eager to run over the Williamsburg Bridge, a hallmark in his marathon training, one that avoided traffic, and provided an amazing view of the city. Keeping his eyes glued to "Weather on the 1," combined with a hand out the window, the best meteorologist equipment he could find, he was certain that the storm had passed. What he didn't know was that the real storm was yet to come!

[Wide angle of the City of New York]

[Cut to Nasa Headcourters]

Dr. Cloudsby: This can't be right... (fumbles with the radar equipment) This can't be right at all. Proffesor, you have to see this!

Prof. Rainstrum: (looks over the data feverishly) Did you check it with the North East Conservatory?

Dr. Cloudsby: Of Course, but neither of us have seen a weather pattern of this magnitude. The High pressure coming in from the Rockies has collided with Hurricane Hannah heading northeast which appears to be in direct route with an Atlantic moving tsunami, which means the storm is going to hit...

(Both of their fingers pan across the computer and meet)

Prof. Rainstrum: The Williamsburg Bridge!

[cut to a fishing boat off the coast of Long Island]

Capt. Fred Waters: (gathers the crew) Hey boys, I know we've been at sea for 3 months and you haven't seen your family or friends in that time, but I wanted to congratulate you on the best year we've had yet! (Everyone toasts) We can go home with money in our pockets, beer in our stomachs, and plenty of crabs.

Mark: I think Tommy's already got that covered. (Everyone laughs) Hey Cap, is it just me or does the horizon line appear to be getting higher?

Capt. Waters: That's not the horizon line...it's... NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

[Cut to Brooklyn]

Andy: (talking to his roommates) I'll see you guys in a bit, looks like I'll be running after all. Hey remember to tell your friends to donate to Fred's Team for the marathon. You could be helping save a person with cancer. (Andy has always been a caring soul, and comments like that were common amongst his friends)

Friends: (mockingly) Don't drop the baton!

(In College, Andy dropped the baton on the final leg of the State finals to lose the heat. He's never lived it down)

[Pan shot, following Andy's feet]

[Wide shot, from the ground up at Andy's silhouette against the street lights at the base of the Williamsburg Bridge, the sky rumbling and a few sprinkles of rain]

Directors note: If the pure site of Andy's body in the glistening rain is too magnificent for the camera, then put a soft diffuser on the lens.

Andy: Aw well, a little rain never killed anybody (off in the distance a woman screams)

The rain is getting more intense and Andy sees people on bikes and runners hastily moving down the bridge. The sky is a milky red and the clouds seem to be circling above. In an apartment next to the bridge, a boy grips his teddy bear as he watches a newscaster explain the life ending severity of the storm. Andy has just passed over the bridge onto the Manhattan side and although his instincts tell him the weather is dangerously out of hand, his thoughts go out to the young children in Africa running fifteen miles at a time for a clean cup off water.

Andy: I can't let them down

Rain and hale pummel the bridge and it's hard to make out where the next step is. Andy is soaked to the bone as he gets nearer to the summit. There is a crash of thunder and lightning strikes the bridge several times. Andy can just make out the figure of a woman up ahead holding the railing

Woman: (crying out) Help me, help! Is there anybody there, my baby, I've lost my child.

Andy: (rushing up to her) stay calm... just stay calm, where was your child last.

Woman: I don't know, I can't see anything, she could be anywhere!!

Andy laces his shoes tight, maybe for the last time and runs past the woman. He hears the faint sound of a scream up ahead as a little girl desperately grips the side railing, ready to be thrown into the air. Andy runs over and grabs her

[Close up of girl]

Girl: Don't drop me, you can't let go!

[flashback to dropping the baton, with overlaying images in slow motion of African kids passing out from sun. Andy stumbles. It doesn't look like he's going to make it. Suddenly there is silence and the rain stops dead. The eye of the storm is overhead. (Amazing CG effects) Everything is quiet, when Andy hears a voice that he swears is coming from the sky.]

Directors note: If possible, the actor playing the voice, if not by the versatile Andy, should be played by Morgan Freedman, or James Earl Jones

Voice: (deep in tone) Andy, you must go on, you must keep fighting. This isn't just a marathon anymore, it's the"Human Race." I believe in you...

Andy could have sworn that he heard traces of his father in the voice, dying a week after andy graduated College in a tragic Bass fishing accident. As the voice fades away, the storm comes surging back worse then before, the bridge swaying from side to side.

Andy: I got you, I'm never letting go.

Andy holds on to the child and once reuniting the mother with the girl carries both of them on his back to safety just as the bridge collapsed behind them

[ fade out]

[Overlay text onto black background]

After running in more than 50 marathons Andy was asked to run the anchor position in the 500m at the Olympics where he broke the world record, giving all his endorsement money to various charities around the world.

He never let go of that baton.

"The Human Race"

Based on a true story

Directed by Steven Speildburg

music by John Williams and Tom Jones

The release date is pending.

Week Four: West Side!!

Usually when I go from Brooklyn to the west river of Manhattan I take the A, C, or E trains, maybe the J, M, Z and occasionally a taxi, but now I can add running to that list, though I wouldn't classify myself as a means of mass transportation. In doing this I completed 9 miles, my first run that crossed into the "holy shit" distances that I plan to keep to myself instead of yelling in front of a mother and her two kids. (which I did) Though my weekday runs are still relatively low in mileage, my end of the week runs are getting bigger and full of more obstacles and preparation. In choosing my desired route I had to manage friday morning traffic and consume water. Since I didn't have a water bottle or water stations, I slipped into a corner store half way into my run to grab a water, though in my hastiness came out with the largest bottle of gatorade which made it awkward to run and scored a few looks when I missed my face completely, trying to drink and run at the same time. Like Hal Higdon says in Marathon: The Ultimate Training Guide, "Walk through aid stations. You grab more fluids and drink more easily while walking." Thanks Hal, I'll take that advice more seriously next time.

My Route, out and back

(No, I was not riding one of those motorcycles from TRON)

I ran the 9 miles on friday versus saturday to make room for another summer wedding held in Long Island. It was Hannah's friend that was getting hitched and I was the poor mans VIP, or as it was referred on the placement card, "Plus One." The reception was a blast and all of Hannah's friends were hilarious, as I once again shamed my liver with an abundance of liquor.

Outside the Church with a sincere thirst

I have been getting better about the booze in relation to running, but even now as I right this, I am sipping on a Coors Light. (SILVER BULLET!) Finding that balance will be critical as I am Marshfield bound for a week with some friends and attempt to bring the mileage up to 10 miles. Anyone want a piggyback?

Holy Shit!

Week Three: Avoid Marshfield Zombies

This past week was pretty smooth on the running front. The weather was beautiful, the strides were easy, and the beer was cold. Yes all in all, a good week, culminating in a weekend at Marshfield Mass, where I relaxed on the south shore hugging the sun and slurping down cocktails solely designed for summer. Everything was clicking until I cracked the binding on a new book called "The Strain," about a virus threatening NYC, turning everyday civilians into blood sucking vampires which scared the summer right out of me. Why couldn't I have picked up The Devil Wears Prada, or The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants? Great beach reads, says Amazon.com Instead I went to bed the first night wondering how much force the human head can take before it cracks like an egg. (196 pounds) As I slept that night I dreamt about running at night along the Marshfield beaches enjoying the cool clean air until I noticed creatures in the dark appearing from the dunes and water around me. I ran more frantically and like all monster dreams the ground became deeper and more difficult to move in. The monsters geared for an attack smelling my fear, until looking down I saw a machete and a grenade launcher on the ground. I shot those demons right back to dream hell and laughed at my success before slowly transitioning into a dream involving Dan Rather eating a giant bowl of spaghetti.

Marshfield

Don't run at night!

I ran the next morning, with plenty of sun beating down on me, and no vampires in sight. Marshfield looked beautiful and the run came off better then I expected holding an 8 minute mile throughout, though I don't plan on keeping that speed as the miles get longer. That night, I played trivia with Hannah's family at the local bar. A: What did the erection of the Eiffel Tower replace as the tallest structure in the world? Answer below.

We also sung karaoke with the locals, I'm not sure if my version of Lisa Lobe's "Stay" will be remembered, though Mary, my 60 year old groupie might disagree. Hannah made Bono proud with "The Streets have no name," and although I awoke with a few marks on my neck the next morning, I think I survived the night.

Next weekend is 9 miles.

Answer A: The Washington Monument

Week Two: The Glory of Tom Jones

It's said to succeed in running you need to stay associated with the run, listening to your body and concentrating on your movements. I tried this concept this past weekend for my 7 mile run, and about 5 minutes in, I was done listening to my body and instead thinking about how Tom Jones is a living god. My soon to be full obsession with Tom Jones started over a year ago when I heard an interview with Mr. Jones on NPR about his newest album and his history as an artist. Knowing his over the top songs about love-making and admiring his charm with the ladies inspired me to make my personal ode to Tom Jones or as it's called,

THE GLORY OF TOM JONES

1. If you've never put a unicorn horn in your mouth, you've never gone down on Tom Jones
2. Tom Jones once seduced a mute and later wrote a song about her called "SEX SCREAM"
3. Tom Jones' voice can calm a crying baby, and impregnate a woman from 30 yards away
4. Barack Obama voted for Tom Jones in the 2008 Elections
5. Tom Jones is a lover, and a fighter
6. There are two types of people in the world, women and Tom Jones
7. If Aretha Franklin and Pavarotti had a boy, that boy would get coffee for Tom Jones
8. There can be only one Tom Jones, that's why Tom Jones carries around a sword

Check out this video on youtube showcasing some of the firepower of the master, Tom Jones http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KUJE2xs-RE If I can save a few bucks I'm investing in the Tom Jones kit

Tom Jones Kit

With Tom Jones' help I ran the 7 miles and wasn't too exhausted though I need to start bringing water with me or at least a couple dollars to buy some water along the route. Summer is here and although passing out on the streets of Brooklyn is very common, I am trying to steer clear.

I drop down to 5 miles for this saturdays long run, so this next week should be smooth sailing.

Good night Tom Jones

Week One: 4th of July, RIP MJ, and some new kicks

So week one is in the books. (Sigh of relief) I travelled into Manhattan to pick up some real running shoes for the past couple weeks, something that I wish I had done from the start. I asked the woman at the running store whether it was embarrassing that I was previously running is my dad's hand me down tennis shoes. She said yes. She (her name also was Andy) put me on a tread mill and analyzed my running technique through video and after making a bad joke about my foot procrastinating to the left, I was fitted with my new running sneakers. My feet felt like they were being hugged by clouds and I thanked Andy, asking her how many people are saying goodbye with the phrase " I will see you at the finish line." She says she not running the Marathon and I leave. It's almost hard to say goodbye to my old shoes, but I get over it after smelling the inside sole.

Out with the old, yikes...

and in with the new.

My running was back on track and with my new racing clouds I was feeling lifted, though that was short lived once word reached me that Michael Jackson had passed away. I have always been a fan of MJ's past works and have been inspired by his singing and dancing since I was a kid fumbling over my feet, trying to perfect the moonwalk. In elementery school I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up and while others were saying professions, I said Michael Jackson. Though as that story actually went, I didn't know how to spell Michael so I said Janet, Michael's easier to spell sister and completely confused the teacher. As shocked as I've been with this news, the week that followed has been one of celebration as "Thriller" "Bad" and "Off the Wall" songs have filled the New York City air and generations have come together in appreciation. But as they say in show business, "the marathon must go on! and I was back on the road practicing for my saturday run of 6 miles, my longest to date. The only thing in my way...4TH OF JULY!!!

The 4th has been a annual debacherous tradition here at 99 Graham for the past 5 years and this past 4th was no exception The treats were thick with 3 kegs, 6 handles of vodka and enough hot dogs to make Kobayashi wish he had another stomach. Throw in a couple pinatas, a balloon toss, and Beer Battleship, and you got yourself a recipe for destruction.

So did I Run my 6 miles? YES I did, way before the party ever began leaving me plenty of time to lose all the progress of running by abusing my body with alcohol... and dance a little to Michael Jackson.

Next week I run 7 miles. No partying for me this go around. Just a little Beat it and Billie Jean.

129 days 3 hours...Holy crap I'm running the Marathon

So, it's official. I am running the New York City Marathon 2009. I know what you're all thinking and yes, I have started writing my will, (Ray, you get my I-Pod.) I was able to guarantee my entry into the event which hosts more then 100,000 runners through Fred's Team, a charity organization that raises money for cancer research. In choosing to run with Fred's Team it''s my job to raise 3,000 dollars for the Sloan Kettering Reseach Center. LETS DO THIS!!!!

wait, wait, wait... How many miles is it again?

26.2 miles or 26 miles and 385 yards to be exact. Now usually I judge distances by the amount of beers it takes to drink from point A to point B, but I'm even confused by this one.

What would inspire a guy whos previous running experience has been "Track and Field" for Nintendo or a barely missed Greyhound Bus at the Hardees rest stop? Boston! I went with Hannah to catch a Redsox game and drink at the Boston Beer Summit culminating in the Boston Marathon where we came to support some of her friends that were running. It was a long weekend of BBQ, and beers with equal fun watching Todd Andrew and Mike preparing for the Marathon days before and seeing them successfully finishing.

Todd, Mike and Andrew at their pr-race dinner

It was hearing first hand how hard they worked and viewing result firsthand that allowed me to even consider applying for the New York City Marathon. But here I am and for the next 18 weeks I will be living by the rules of the marathon training schedule running up to 20 miles in any particular run before the actual marathon on Nov. 1st where I will hopefully finish a race that is 26 miles and about 2 beers long.

And maybe I can change...

From this...

To This.......Though I would prefer both.

If you would like to make a donation to Fred's Team, please visit this site www.mskcc.org/mskcc/html/14332.cfm search for Andrew Sarno. Thanks and wish me luck. I will be checking in every week with pics and videos of my 18 weeks training. (oh, I think I'm gonna throw up)