Self-sabotage

Over the past two weeks (yikes has it really been that long since I've posted?) I've done a couple things out of the ordinary, both of which have had their own detrimental effects on running and that I will now grossly exaggerate.

The Dark Art of Bicycling
I took the Monday before Labor Day off to use up the last of my summer bonus days from work and decided it would be fun to rent a bike for the day and ride around the city.  Knowing my hatred for riders and that I haven't ridden a bike in years, this could only be described a momentary bout of hysteria.

I picked up the bike from one of the bike shops around Central Park and got my bearings by doing a small loop around the park.  Then I rode down along the Hudson to meet Wifey for lunch near her office in Soho.  After a lunch of empanadas and rice and beans I headed back up the Hudson all the way to the George Washington Bridge.  Then crossed the Bridge over to the Jersey Palisades park--where I realized how hard steep uphills are on a bike.  After taking a nap in the park I crossed back over to New York and rode down to Central Park and returned the bike about an hour early (mostly because my ass area was hurting from the seat).

After riding about 25 miles around the New York City area I picked up a couple things.  First off, I was surprised at how easy it was to get around the city with a bike.  Even the parts where there weren't bike lanes and I was riding in traffic, car drivers seemed to be just fine with me riding in their lanes.  Second, I seemed to be the only one on a bike obeying traffic lights--riders were just whizzing about not really paying attention to traffic signals, staying in bike lanes, or going with traffic.  No wonder there is so much angst against them: they act like pedestrians when they're really more like cars.

The last thing I noticed is that I was actually enjoying myself riding around on a bike.  I don't know if I'd be ready to take it on in the exercise/fitness sense, but it is a fun way to get around.

Barefoot Beach Running Part Duex
Fast forward to about a week later, when we're with my family for Labor Day staying at a hotel on Ft. Lauderdale beach.  Looking to spice up my eight mile run I decide I'll do it barefoot in the sand, since I had a good experience back on South Padre Island.

My first footstep in the sand tells me instantly that this was a bad idea.  The sand on the gulf coast was fine and compact, this Ft. Lauderdale sand was the complete opposite: coarse and soft.  Every foot step suck deep into the sand.  Later on I would liken it to a car being stuck in first car: lots of stopping power but no speed.  I tried running on the waterline, but that only felt harder.  I tried running in the tracks of the tractors that come out early to smooth the sand, but it was only minimal improvement.

About a mile in I gave up on the sand and moved on to the sidewalk.  A huge improvement, but it was much more rough on my feet.  After the turnaround (around the 4.5 mile mark) I checked out my feet.  Sure enough there were huge blisters on my toes exactly where they had developed last time I went barefoot running.  But then there were also big round blisters (about the size of a quarter) directly below each of my ring toes.  With the blisters I had an awful time on the sidewalk, so I would weave back and forth from sand to sidewalk.

Eventually, I just gave up and walked the last mile to the hotel in the sand.  Not my proudest moment.  The good thing is that the blisters on my toes I was able to drain that night (oh how much goo was in them!).  The round ones under my ring toes seemed to be much deeper under the skin, so much so that I thought that they were calluses.  But last night I finally got in there with a needle and sure enough an pinkish/grayish goo came out.  Sorry, no pictures.  Definitely will be more picky about my barefoot running in the future.

Cross training...on a trapeze

On Sunday, wifey, a friend, and I went out for a bit of cross-training.

Here I am warming up:

Getting into starting position:

And then taking-off!!!



Yes indeed peeps, wifey took me to trapeze school as a birthday present and it was awesome!!!

As you can see from the pictures the facility is outdoors, but what you can't tell is that it on top of a three story building on a pier. So even though you climb 20 someodd feet to the platform, you're closer to 100-feet in the air with breezes from the ocean blasting from all sides. Needless to say, it reminds you that you're alive.

The first time I went up, I really had no idea what to expect. I stood on the platform and the instructor started rigging me up to the harness and that's when I realized there's only one way down. I grabbed the bar. I heard the call from the instructor. And then I hopped off.

In my head the only thing I could say was "ohshitohshitohshitohshit." I didn't even listen to the rest of the calls, I just got my feet up, got them down, and then let go of the bar.

The second time you go up, its worse because this time you know exactly what to expect.

But by the third time, you're a pro (see video above for proof).

The only problem is that even if you're careful you will probably leave with a scrape or a bump of some kind. I was careful and still managed to leave with: a cut on my left knee, chaffing behind both knees, sore calves, bruise marks on the palms of both hands, a mysterious bruise on my left tricep, and--perhaps most damaging of all--net burn across all ten toes of my beauty feet:

(Those purplely things are the burn marks. This was the good foot.)

It was great time--more fun than I thought it would be, and I had high expectations. If any of you come to NYC anytime soon I really recommend that you take a class. They're not horribly expensive ($47 for weekdays, $65 for weekends) and not challenging at all. The only sweat I worked up was from standing in the sun.
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In running news.... The Fairfield Half-Marathon is only six days away!!! I am so excited that I wake up every morning thinking about it.

Preparations have already begun in the sRod household for the race. My race clothes (and back-up clothes) were washed in the load of laundry and are neatly folded awaiting race day. I've already drawn up the packing list for the drive up there. Tonight I'll put the final touches on the play list for the race and maybe start printing out documents (registration confirmation, rental car confirmation, directions, etc., etc.). So happy to finally be running this race!

Update on Footgate 2008

Went to see the doctor yesterday morning.

She started poking at my foot with her finger and at first it felt fine--I thought I was on the high road to self recovery after the two hour soaking in Epsom salt on Friday night. And then she started scratching at the thing and OOOOOOOO she found it. So she whips out a needle and says she's going to numb the area and start prodding around in there to see if she can get it out. I thought: Great! This is exactly what I wanted, she numbs it, she clean the hell out of it, and it'll be smooth sailing.

But then I discovered that numbing medicine BURNS LIKE A BIATCH. She said: "You're going to feel this needle, but it's just gonna be a baby needle." Yes, the prick of the needle was tiny, but when she started pushing in whatever was in that syringe--sweet. mother. of. JESUS. When I felt that burning in my foot my other leg spasmed--perhaps in an act of sympathy for my right foot. Man that burned. And since the first shot didn't seem to numb the area all the way she had to do it a second time. OUCH OUCH OUCH.

(As you can tell I am a big baby when it comes to needles and doctory stuff. When doctors need to draw blood I always tell them I have to lay down--because I've come very close to fainting on various occasions. The sad part about it is that none of these reactions are voluntary. It's just that any time I'm around a needle all the blood leaves my head (no idea where it goes). You should see how grossed out I get when watching ER or even nip/tuck. It's pathetic.)

And then the ball of my foot went numb. She started probing at the area with I don't know what--I didn't want to look. Then she switched tools and started probing some more. About five minutes later she cleaned up the area and put a bandage on it. She said she cleaned it out and left the wound open so that if anything was left in there it could come out. She said to soak it some more in salt water and to call the podiatrist if it didn't heal in the next couple of days.

So I got home, soaked the foot for another two hours in salt water and then headed out to Target with the wife. After that insanity we came back home and tried this fish restaurant around the corner from our apartment (very good eats there). Then we came home, I soaked the foot some more. And then we watch 5 hours of movies and random programming on TV. (BTW, there is nothing good on Saturday nights.)

It's now 8am and the foot feels fine and dandy. There is just a little bit of tenderness since it's still healing, but otherwise I should be good to go to Dim Sum (yum!), do groceries (boo!), and go to the gym (finally!).

Footgate 2008

Update on my legs:

My left leg has recovered after I overexerted my left hamstring/calf muscles during Sunday's urban rebounding class. It seems like it was just a strained muscle. By Tuesday everything felt normal in that leg.

The story with my right foot is not so rosy. Since Sunday it has not made any sign of healing. Actually, after days of trying to walk on it, I realized on Thursday night that the foot was swelling up. Right now, the ball of my foot and my toes are all significantly swollen. On top of that, I picked at the cut with tweezers and some clear goo came out. Wonderful. Swelling + goo = infection.

I'm going to the doctor in about an hour to get this checked out. I'm really hoping that its nothing. That my foot is reacting normally and that this isn't some major infection. I'm also hoping that she tells me there is nothing in my foot. I don't know what I stepped on, but it was tiny--I think it was a little rock that just got stuck to my shoes and dragged into the apartment. The hole it made is only about 1/8 of an inch long and I can't imagine that something is lodged in there.

For now, I will continue to hobble and be pissed as hell that I can't run.

Et tu foot?

With Olympic Trials and the Marathon going on last weekend there wasn't really any where I could get to easily for a run. So I decided to finally try this urban rebounding class at our gym that my wife goes to every now and then. Basically, it's a step class but on trampolines. And of course, coming off a Marathon, I hit this class at full throttle--since nothing could be worse than a Marathon.

It was pretty fun (except for the complex coordination part, which I failed at) and I got into it. By the end though, the muscles behind my left knee had had enough. Everytime I would bend that knee I'd get a sharp pain on inside of the leg. So much for assuming I was in peak physical condition.

But other than this soreness/strained muscle-ness, I finished the class unscathed.

Fast forward to that evening.

I'm walking around the apartment barefoot putting away groceries/putting away laundry/cursing my 1,000 year old computer, when I step on something small and sharp. OUCH! I turn over my right foot and see a tiny puncture right smack-dab in the middle of the ball of my foot.

Great, so now I can't bend my left leg because its sore and I can't use my right foot because it has a wound. So much for coming back strong this week.

Beauty Feet

Call me lucky or blessed or a genetic anomaly, but I have really nice feet. Yes, I know, runners don't have nice feet, but damn it, my feet are down-right pretty--you know, for being feet. All my toes point in the right direction, there's no gunk under my toe nails, and I haven't had a blister since 2005. If my feet were a dog, they would probably be some hand-fed Maltese that is always carried. Yeah, they are friggin prima donnas, but I do count myself as fortunate, especially considering the foot trauma people like Nancy have gone/continue to go through.

Enter the marathon.

Since this is MY FIRST MARATHON EVER, my beauty feet are doing things they've never done before. This week they'll be pushing 30 miles of running. This is uncharted torture for them.

At first I got the usual drying out of the feet. No biggie there. Everytime I've trained for a race the bottom of my feet dry out and peel. The only difference now is that it's happening on an almost weekly basis.

But in the past two weeks, now that the weekly mileage is getting higher, I've noticed the development of hard patches on the bottom of my feet...wait...those look like...CALLUSES! What the hell? Where did those come from?! I've never had calluses before: should I be worried? Will it impact my running? Do I have to get new shoes? (Yes, I too feel like this is wussy and whiney, but gosh darn these feet are pretty and I want to keep them that way.)

After some brief research I found that I should not be freaked out because 1) calluses are common for marathoners, 2) I only have the beginnings of calluses, and 3) I can easily treat them with moisturizer. Whew. So now my morning routine involves slathering on some heavy-duty moisterizer on my feet right before I put on my socks. I also take as many opportunities as possible to wear sneakers and have basically given up wearing sandals.

So far, the treatment has been a success: the calluses have gone away and my feet are back to pristine condition. Let's see what happens to them after tomorrow's 18 mile run.