In Sleep

...today is the last workday of my vacation. Monday I have to go back to school. That means on Sunday I have to shave again. That means on Monday I have to wake up at 5am to go run. That means on Sunday I have to go to bed around 10 pm and not the midnight hour that I have been pulling off the past week. That means on Monday I have to prepare my body for the flu to come back. That means on Sunday I am going to sleep filled with anxiety and wondering what the next day is going to bring. That means on Monday I have to wear nice work clothes (BUT THEY LOOK SO NICE). That means on Sunday I have to make my lunch and iron my clothes.  Welcome back to reality.

One thing that I have been able to do during this time off is that I have been able to troll around on the old FB. I got a message from some guys for a group run a couple days ago and viewed it and responded to it. Now here is the interesting thing, I saw that my old private message were still on FB. Let's see how long these go? Oh they go all the way back till I got FB back in 2007. Some of those messages I read. Some made me laugh. Some made me go, oops! Some made me think about things.

It's interesting to read things from the past and see how they turned out. Oh let's see not friends with that person anymore. Oh let's see I don't talk to that person anymore. Oh let's see I TOTALLY REMEMBER THAT CONVERSATION AND WHAT IT WAS ABOUT. Oh let' see I TOTALLY WANTED TO SLAY THAT BRO, but you know things didn't work out the way it should have.
Of course there is always a recourse to thinking about these things. For some reason I never deleted them and didn't delete them after reading a couple of those things.


...I took a nap a couple years ago. It was during a time when I wasn't feeling that great. I woke up and for a split second I wondered if things that had happened were actually a bad dream. I woke up and for a split second I thought, yeah it actually was a dream. There was probably a few seconds where I was happy, and then I realized that no in fact it wasn't a dream. That all those things happened. That was probably crushing. There are times that when I take a nap (and those are usually on the weekend, when it can happen) and during those times I drift into la-la land and sometimes, sometimes where I'll wake up and forget where I am. Am I in DC? Did those things happen in real life or a dream? I'm not really sure sometimes. They can be good dreams and bad dreams. Throughout my life I remember all the good and bad.

Run 8 miles @ Rock Creek Park

It was cold this morning. The temperature was about 34 degrees, but it felt colder than it did yesterday. There was some frost on the ground, the saving grace was that there was hardly any wind. I did get the satisfaction that when I was going out to my run I saw some people in my building getting ready to go to work. "Have fun at your job". Is what I wanted to say, I decided to silently troll them.  I finished my run to do four strides.

Good Night Sweet Prince

...well it's been some time. Like nearly 16 weeks to accurate. Oh what has been going on. In August I was out of shape. This is what happened. I started to get back into shape-got into shape-was really into shape-then kinda hit a funk-then kinda wasn't that focused with training-then got out of shape. Now I am trying to get back into shape.

I guess this will be the recap of the last race I've done but here are some high (or low) lights of my racing so far:

Kentlands 5k: 16:40 8th overall
Run Geek Run 8k: 27:19 11th overall
BWI Airport 4 miler: 21:14 4th overall
Boo run for your life 10k: 34:14 3rd overall
Veterans Day 10k: 34:21 30-40 something overall

Now for the current race, Footlocker Open 5k: 16:33 34th overall.

But before we get to the race recap, I'm going to have to go all CSI on this picture that is bothering me. I have two contentions: a) when was this picture taken? and b) where was this picture taken?

Here is said picture:

Time to breakdown what I know:

First I am thinking that this picture was taken in my freshman year of college and if that is the case then it has to be in the months of April to May of 2001. I know that by looking at my hair. Fall semester of freshman year I bleached my hair and then over the winter break I got it cut fairly short. Since my hair grows like crazy, and by looking at the picture that my hair is jutting out of my hair it has to be fairly long. For these reasons I am concluding that this picture is in the time frame of those two months.

But I have to dig deeper. I am starting to think that it was taken in May and may have been during exams week. I am going with this theory because I am looking at my face. Most notably my chin. If you can tell (and I really need to find some way to blow this up) it appears that there is facial hair growing on my chin. Why does this facial hair make me think that it's May? Because this was at a point where I decided in my life that not shaving during exams would be the most sensible thing to do. I kinda envisioned myself like hockey players during the playoffs and not shaving, and so that goes the thinking. But then again when I was 19 this was how much facial hair I could grow after a week or two.

Ok I've kinda figured out when this picture was taken, but where was it taken?

I don't have the full picture here, but in the picture there is a bike that is on the right. Since I am saying that the picture was taken in May of 2001, then it's not my dorm room because I didn't have a bike till Senior year of college. My friend John, in the picture, had a bike, but he kept it outside. Hmm? Also there are other clues in this picture that are making me think that this picture was not taken in John's dorm room because his dorm room had two windows in it. This picture only had one window. Another way to further conclude that is was not taken in my dorm room, at this point in the year (remember May) my roommate had moved out and I had the beds kinda parallel in the middle of the room, not up against the wall, like in the picture above. Now where could it have been taken? I am starting to remember the details and it was in....ah crap...that makes sense...bad memories coming back...yep that makes sense. It was most likely in my ex-girlfriends room. Now it makes sense. I want to go back in time and tell that young B-Mac that all that running you will do will not take away all the pain and misfortune that will happen. That moving to another city will not heal wounds. No matter how far you go and change, people will always remember you a certain way.

Crap!

Ugh!

For the race!

I woke up at 2am on Saturday convinced that I was about to vomit. I went to the bathroom and was fine, but I was sweating and not feeling great. I had a stomachache. What could have been the culprit? The chicken parm? Or the chocolate pie slice? Either way I wasn't feeling that great when I woke up.

Everything else leading up to the race was uneventful. I warmed up. And got ready on the line. It was time to go. I was feeling good. I got out and was feeling fine. I was up in the top 30 and running what I knew I could. I clicked off the first mile at 5:04 and that felt fine. I went into the next mile and while I wasn't feeling awful, I could tell that I wasn't as fresh as earlier. I'm not saying that I went out to hard, but I was fine. I hit the next mile in 5:28 and realized that a PR was not going to happen. That was pretty crushing. But here is the thing. I didn't give up. I challenged myself and passed some people (although they passed me back). I ran the last mile in 5:23 and hit the 200 in 37 seconds. Not a great time. It was my fastest time at McAlpine and in Footlocker history.

Frankly there wasn't a lot of thought going on about past races and what I've done at that course. HEY I'VE BEEN NAMED COACH OF THE YEAR THERE. I was just another somebody there. Disconnection from a former life. That's what it has become. Things had been coming up and I realized that this was it. I am interloper. A gypsy. I don't really have a true place to call home. I live in a city that I like, but how long will I be there? I can't say more than a couple years, then it will be somewhere else, and somewhere else after that. It's time. I see faces that I knew and it doesn't bring me anything. People move on. Things happen that I don't know about. People happen that I don't know about.

So my parents are probably moving to some place that is 8 miles from where we live now. It's still part of the Charlotte area, but it's a place that I don't feel any connection to. It's a realization that the time I go to Charlotte is slipping away. That's not what I was thinking when I was done and doing the cool down. It was more like, "this is the last race I've probably run in Charlotte". And fitting that it was at McAlpine. The first race I ran. The place where things came together. Where I became a genius, then an idiot, then a genius again. That's how it comes to pass. Somethings stay the same, some just go through the winds and go somewhere else.

I ended up right by my car and say Shea. We talked for about 10 minutes. That was an enjoyable way to end the race. He told me something that I had heard every year since 2004. But it looks like this year it will happen. It was fitting. It wasn't like two ships passing in the night, like it is whenever I talk to people I know in Charlotte. It was a denouement. It wasn't time to move on. I told him I was getting a hair cut. I guess I grew up.

Of things remembered from a whiff of weather

When I woke up this morning it reminded me of another time. Well actually it reminded me of one of those early September days where the humidity was out in full force. It was in the high 60s/low 70s in the morning and it got up to the mid 80s during the day. It would be warm but it would be bearable. It reminded me of what Charlotte was like during the Labor Day weekend. It reminded me of cross country practice in September, when you know that the warm weather is in it's dying stage and that the cooler temps will soon populate the land. It was a pleasant reminder that the weather was going to change and that with all things time changes as well. And so on this pleasant day I went back to DC. How did the trip back go...?

I was driven to the airport by my brosef. It was a journey in which he got the Lexus as fast as he could go and in as many lanes as he could. As I was going through the security line one thought went through my head: why do I have to take my belt off? Is this some sort of cruel joke to make men throughout the country to hold up our pants on our own. Then going through the conniver belt my laptop had to go under the scope again. Apparently the plastic in my shoes prevented the computer from being seen. I asked "really the plastic prevents it from being seen?" I then asked some other follow up questions, then secretly thought "no I'm not being noisy, I just want to know, these questions don't mean I'm a terrorist". I think I was in the clear.

The plane ride itself was uneventful. But like all plane rides I sweat a ton, feel the pangs of motion sickness, and just wish that a Lost type plane crash would happen so I could feel some cool air on my face. After getting off the plane I had the option of waiting till 5 to get on the bus or the train. I decided to take the MARC train. It was part of the journey where I meet a Canadian college actor. He was going to Ottawa then to Prince Edward Island. He missed a flight in Baltimore and was hoping to catch one in DC at 7. We were on the train at 5 and got off at 5:35. I'm not sure if he made it to his flight, maybe he did, maybe he didn't. I ended up getting to my apartment at 6:15 and was exhausted. I was hungry and there was nothing in my apartment. That meant I had to go to the store to get something for tonight. I was not pleased about this. I ended up getting a pizza and crashing. It was fun while it lasted in Charlotte, but now I'm back.

It was a bit weird going to Charlotte back to DC. In some ways I didn't want to leave and in other aspects I feel that where I am now is home. It was weird going back to Charlotte. Am I really an out of towner now? Is it weird that I feel out of the loop? Or am I not really out of the loop? Do I need to get Skype? All these questions will have answers soon.

The party's over..

This is a somewhat longer* post from what I did on Tuesday June 14. It included a run at the Harris Y and a Summer Track meet race. Going into the week I wasn't that sure if I really wanted to run a track race or just observe. Honestly since the Twilight 5k disaster I had been scared to run anything fast, whether in a race or in a workout. I had ran one race, albeit it was a trail race, where there was little expectations and hardly anyone that I knew who was going to be running in it. For the past couple weeks I have been getting my running in, doing some long runs, some medium distance runs, but barely any real speed work. I did 7 400s one day, but other than that not much. My confidence was shaken and my desire was in question. I wasn't sure that I wanted to really run fast and wasn't sure that I could do it again. It wasn't so much anxiety, but rather a worry. Can I do it again? Can I put myself through the ringer again? Do I really want to continue doing this again?

*By my standards

...it was a day back in the summer of 2004. I kinda had a plan for my life after graduating from college. It was something that sounded easy. I was going to take a year off. Apply to graduate school, and once I got in backpack throughout Europe. That was the plan. But for the fall I needed something to do. Go back to Harris Teeter? Umm...no. My brother was going to be entering ninth grade and was joining the cross country team. My sister was also on the team. Over the summer I would drive him over to practice, drop him off, and then pick him back up. After awhile it got kinda ridiculous to drive out to McAlpine, drive back home, and then drive back to McAlpine. So one day I dropped my brother off and then went and ran on my own. I just stayed by myself and ran enough. It must have made some impression because my old coach, Coach Airheart, asked me if I wanted to help volunteer with the team. My first thought was, wait a minute I guess she didn't remember me when I was in high school!

One day at practice we were going to run in the neighborhood that was at the top of the dirt trail right before the 1.5 mile mark at McMullen. Back in 1999 McMullen didn't even make it to the first bridge under 485, so when we ran we had to run on the roads. I was running with my friend Dustin and two freshmen, Bobby and Paul. We got onto the roads and we saw the neighborhood kids playing a game of football. Well that sounds better than running! So the four of us played football while the team ran, and when the team came back and saw us playing, I'm sure I felt something, but it wasn't shame. After a while Dustin and I realized we needed to go back, but the two freshmen decided to stay. We'll tell Airheart that you guys got a cramp or something. We got back to the parking lot and Dustin told her that Bobby and Paul were playing football. She chewed those guys out and when they found us they were pretty hurt. Dustin told them that's what happens when your a freshman!

That's what type of athlete/runner I was in high school. My 5k PR was 20:45, my 1600 PR was 5:30. I wasn't that fast. I didn't run during the summer. I hardly ran during practice. And here I was going to volunteer to coach with the JV boys. I didn't know really anything when it came to coaching. Terms like fartlek, tempo, or intervals might have well been a foreign language to me. The first time I ran with the Catholic cross country team in this role as volunteer coach was on a Tuesday. That much I know. Because it was a practice at the Harris Y.

I remember sitting in my car. I think I arrived a bit early (Which I always do). There was a kid in the car that had pulled up next to me in a white Jeep. He was looking in his mirror to see if his hair was alright, if he had any pimples, and to see if his earring was rightly in place. I thought this guy is trying to look cool when he is really not. I had no idea what I was going to run that morning. I had heard hills, but had no idea what was going to happen. We did a mile warm up around the outdoor track, stretched, and then went into the neighborhood behind the Y to run the loop.

I had been told it was hilly and that it would be tough. I didn't think the pace was that hard, but I really didn't want to get dropped. So I stayed out in front and before I knew it we were done. The kid from the Jeep, who I later found out to be Ryan Whitley, asked me if I was tired. I told him no. Well we weren't running it that fast, was how he retorted to me. Well are we going to do another loop, I asked. No I'm tired, he said matter of fact and rather confused me because it made no sense (I soon understood that this was my introduction to Whitley logic). And then something happened that made me understand that I would probably start to enjoy coaching this team. Ryan started to walk away from me. I thought, did I do something wrong to anger him? We were on the roads in a residential area, houses all around us. The Y was in front of us, but there was a fence and woods. Ryan walked towards the fence, behind some bushes and started to use nature as it was intended. No he didn't hid behind a tree, he just stepped out and was urinating. I thought this was rather strange, but since nobody else seemed to be bothered or shocked by this, I assumed this was normal. That was how I was introduced to the Catholic XC team.

...I was sitting in my car on Tuesday. The weather was absolutely gorgeous. When I would be coaching and we would have weather like this over the summer I would tell the kids, better take advantage of this while we can. Which translated from coach talk: were going to be running a lot today. One thing that has been a constant at the Harris Y over the summer was the summer camp. There's always a gang of little kids running around the perimeter of the track, you kinda have to pay attention to make sure that you don't run anyone over. I did a mile warm up and was surprised how fast I ran it, somewhere around 7:05. I wasn't really expecting to run fast today, I was going to the track meet and I was going to run the mile for sure. Maybe the 5k. After stretching I made my way to the journey that awaited me.

The Harris Y traditional loop starts on Sharon Hills road, then you turn right onto Rosemary, then it's a quick right onto Sharon Acres and almost immediately you turn left onto Prince George. Then it's a right onto Whistlestop, then a left back onto Sharon Acres, and then a right onto Yellowood. Starting and stopping at the Y makes it about 3 miles. It's pretty hilly but it does have it's downhills and flat parts. If you have never run it before the first hill is the one that intimidates you. I would always tell kids who came out for the first time, well that first hill is pretty tough. The hill ended up being a thing of lore, it was either Rosemary or simple put Rosie. It was just steep. It was somewhat long too. But after that every other hill wasn't that bad. I think the steep incline up Whistlestop are just as bad, but once you get through that mental barrier at the first hill, everything after that is pretty easy.

As I was running the route I had a sense of calm, a sense of relief come over me. I wasn't that concerned with anything and started to think about all the memories that I had from the place...

-like that time I set up neon yellow soccer cones throughout the course for a fartlek run and I saw some woman later on in my run picking up trash. I spotted my soccer cones in her trash bag, and I had to politely ask her for my cones back.

-the time J-Fad fell down Rosemary. Picturing her tumbling down the hill gave me a guilty laugh.

-"Jeff St. John lives on St. John lane!"

-the time that Mark and Jake were fed up with Sanders talking down to them about how slow they were running over the summer, and finally busted it out right at Rosemary. I was running with Mark's brother when I saw the lead group go, and it took me until Yellowood to catch them. I think we ran the first 2.5 miles in 14 minutes, but I think everything I tell the story the time keeps dropping

-the constant mention of the "meth house" on Yellowood

-whenever we would stop after one loop we would see who had sweated the most during the run

-the porta-john that was behind the fence that saved me one or two times

-the Olde Georgetown swimming pool that taunted us during those warm summer days

-the groups that would come out for the run. I think the summer of 2008 was the year where there were the biggest numbers. Maybe like 20-30 kids out for voluntary runs during the summer. Then again I think 2009 wasn't that bad either.

And like all good things they have to come to an end. What comes up must go down. When I think about things I have to include them all. Because even if the bad things were unpleasant they had some impact on who I was and how it shaped me as a person. In some ways I was running with ghost on that run. Whether it was Drew, John S, Dean, Gilligan, Whitley, Mark, Jake, Jamie, my brother they were all there. It was a loop that I hadn't done for almost a year, but it felt familiar. In fact we only ran there once a week for about two months, so it really was only eight times a year that we were there, but it always felt like I was reconnecting with an old friend. The last time I ran it was July of last year and it poured a cold rain during the run. It reminded me of another time that I ran the loop where it did the same exact thing. The memories start to run together at certain points. They all feel the same.

I ended up doing another loop. This time backwards and I added up with what I called the Bamboo forest part of the loop. I ended my run with a cool down to give myself a total of a little bit over 8 miles. I had done the hill loops at an average of 6:40. My legs didn't feel trashed and I was going to go out there for the track race and run whatever I could do. Throughout the course of the day I took a nap (I'm in my off period till I have to work so I'm going to take advantage of it) and visualized the race that was about to unfold. It was the mile. There were variations of the race. Some good. Some bad. The good outweighed the bad. I then got that anxious feeling in my stomach. Tough to breathe but something in the fire of my belly. I was going to go out and see what would happen. I didn't expect much but I figured sub 5 minutes would be something to aim for. I wondered who was going to be out there and was ready to roll. I always like summer track. It was simple, cheap, and somewhat a DIY event that harkened to my punk roots. I always saw the same people there running it and the same people participating in it. I had done well there and I had done poorly there. This might be my last race in Charlotte for a while I wanted to go out on my terms...

Part II Summer Track Part 2010 Redux tomorrow night

For those wondering if you want to run the route I described behind the Harris Y, there are painted arrows at the streets I mentioned. As well there are arrows painted on the road for the duathlon that is held at the Harris Y in August. It can be pretty confusing. The Splash and Dash as it's called does not include the Rosemary hill and I think is the hill loop backwards. The loop that we, the Catholic team, would do was based on the Krueger Jump into Fall 5k that was held in late August or right before school started. I think the Splash and Dash replaced it. I never ran the Krueger race, it didn't look like a lot of fun. I do know that Chris Lamperski won it in 2005 or 2006 with a time in the low 17s, but don't quote me on it.