Making New Memories

Running along the Charles River in Boston the Sunday before the Boston Marathon, I started to second guess my race plan.  I was feeling good and healthy, clicking off effortless miles with Kevin at a sub-seven-minute per mile pace.  Boston was sunny and beautiful.  There was an electricity in the air.  Maybe I didn't have the fitness or the training to run a PR, I thought.  But, maybe I put in enough miles and ran enough solid workouts in January and February to go out with the first corral and hold my own.  These thoughts were fleeting, misguided and cocky and after experiencing the 118th Boston Marathon the way I experienced it the following day, I couldn't be more thankful that the absurd ideas were gone by the time I took the first sip of my post-run coffee.

Allen, a friend from Charlotte, had agreed to let me run with him and another friend/former roommate Matt.  Allen was hoping to redeem himself after falling victim to the heat of the 2012 marathon.  Despite a lack of mileage under my belt, I figured I could run with him for at least the bulk of the race while at the same time carrying a GoPro camera that would capture footage from the race course to be used on news reports by my place of employment.  

KB and me before heading out the door

The gun goes off at 10am, but Marathon Monday starts early.  I was up at 5:45am to get my gear together.  Last year's attacks meant tighter security, which meant no bags at the Athlete's Village in Hopkinton.  Runners were only allowed to carry a fanny pack and whatever fit inside of it.  Challenge accepted.  A few weeks before the marathon I put the term "hilarious fanny pack" into Amazon.com and wa-la!  Days later, a neon pink fanny pack with the word "PARTY" written across the front arrived in the mail. I had planned to ditch it before the start, but was talked out of that by many admirers of the fanny pack and the prospect of several official race photos prominently featuring the pack.  Thus, I took it on a test run to make sure it wasn't going to annoy/chafe me as it was strapped around my waist for 26.2 miles. 

I stepped out the door for the mile walk to the Boston Common wearing the fanny pack, a couple layers of clothes to be left behind, a JITFO singlet, shorts and New Balance 890v4s.  On the way, I met Josh who after being moved by Sunday's Blessing of the Runners at a nearby church had also decided to run the entire race.  We met Katie, who was going to be running much faster than us, and Matt at a Dunkin Donuts just off the Common.  However, Allen was nowhere to be seen.  We waited 30 minutes past the agreed-upon meeting time then cut our losses and headed for the buses.  I was convinced the whole plan was out the window.  Pacing Allen had become my purpose and without him, I didn't feel like I had any reason to be running.  The panic subsided when Allen and his girlfriend Laura somehow found us among the thousands of people waiting for their ride to Hopkinton.  Turns out Allen and Laura had gone to the wrong DD.  In hindsight, Dunkin Donuts was probably not the best business in Boston at which to meet.

I have always been a bundle of nerves on that seemingly endless bus ride from the Commons to Hopkinton.  First of all, it's a really long trip and the entire time you are on the bus, you can't help but think that once this long ride is over you have to run back from whence you came.  This year was different.  With no specific race plan to adhere to and a free pass to catch the first DNF bus back to Boston should any of my weak spots flare up, the pressure was completely off.  Instead, I tried to soak up some of the nervous energy of my seatmate/teammate/friend Katie who was running Boston for the first time. 

I'll pony up the cash for this photo eventually

I wasn't really sure of the timing on getting to corral 2.  It's the same nearly-one mile walk, but unlike year's past, we were in the corral about 25 seconds before the starting canon sounded.  Warning: Gross pre-marathon detail coming.  I was mid-bottle pee when the race started.  I may not have been ready to move, but the tens of thousands of people surrounding me were.  So, I can now add peeing and running simultaneously to my resume.

We went out a little slower than Allen's goal pace as we fought our way through thick crowds.  It's better to go out slow on the first mile because it is a significant down hill.  My previous Bostons, mile 1 has always been one of my fastest and that comes back to bite me.  As we made our way down the narrow two-lane road, Josh and I immediately started working the crowd.  I thought it would be my fanny pack that attracted the most attention, but it was the GoPro that sent the spectators into a tizzy.  I decided early on that I would grab water and Gatorade for Allen when I could.  It was in doing this that I developed a tremendous amount of respect for the grace, skill and balls it takes to approach a water station in heavy traffic and emerge with both a beverage and all of your limbs. It's truly terrifying and to everyone who does it with regularity, big props.

One of the reasons I love running Boston is the crowd support. The city and the towns along the course have always embraced the event and brought an electricity that's unmatched by any other marathon -- although New York comes pretty close.  But this year's running, Greater Boston took it up a notch.  Throughout most of the course, the crowds were four deep.  The enthusiasm was always high, but any time I sensed a lull, I pointed to the GoPro camera and there would be thunderous roars.  I don't think I stopped screaming for 26.2 miles. The rush of adrenaline that came from being back in Boston was enough to fuel hours of running and simultaneous celebration.  Along the way, I slapped hundreds if not thousands of hands.  In Wellesley where the spectators are famously raucous, I tried to match their volume with my own voice.  Miles later, the Boston College crowd stepped up to the plate outdoing what we had seen near the Wellesley campus.  The line of Golden Eagles was at least a mile long.  I have no connection or love for BC, but I am pretty sure I said I loved the place more times than I can count. By the end of the race, my throat was more sore than my legs.

This is Mile 25-ish.  I just got more excited as the finish line got closer

I was able to get a good look at some of the homemade signs on the course this year.  There were the traditional messages: "Beer at the Finish", "You're almost there!", "Kiss Me!" (Proud to say that the only kiss I gave was to Lauren at mile 24).  But there were also signs that said "Boston Strong", "Welcome Back", "Thank You".  My favorite sign was held up by a woman somewhere in Newton.  It said, "Meb Won! 2:08:37.  Yes Really."  At first, I thought it was a joke.  No one, including myself expected Meb to beat arguably the best Boston field ever assembled.  I asked her if she was sure.  When I was satisfied that she was, I yelled "USA!!!" for at least three miles.

This week, I told Meb I thought his win was the most significant moment in American Distance Running history.  I know I'm not alone in that thought.

This was my fourth Boston Marathon, but it produced a lot of firsts.  It was the first time I took candy from spectators on the course (Twizzlers, Starburst Jelly Beans; it was like they knew I was coming).  It was the first time I stopped to pee (twice). It was the first time I posed for photos.  It was the first time I saw Lauren cheer for me.  It was the first time I stopped on the course to wait for friends.  Crossing the finish line was a moment to be shared.

At mile 24, I got a burst of energy.  Cheering and hand-slapping turned into jumping up and down. Josh and I had just toughed out a two mile stretch that was a little dicey and thankfully had caught a second wind.  That's when we rolled up on Josh's fiance/my friend Tanya was in a world of hurt.  She was shuffling and clearly in pain.  Like me, she hadn't been able to train the way she wanted to, but was gutting out the whole race anyway. Tanya told us she didn't want to finish and she was ready to drop out.  I knew Tanya felt the same way I did about Boston.  We were both there last year and we both never got the chance to relish the experience. I reminded her the pain she was feeling at that moment with 2.2 miles to go would be much worse when she woke up in the morning without a medal. She toughed it out.

We came across in 3:26:18.  The goal was 3:25.  Maybe we could have gone out a little faster.  Maybe we shouldn't have stopped.  But, ultimately it wasn't really about the time on the clock it was about completing the year-long journey.

Check out my bad-ass fanny pack

After I got my medal, a volunteer who was clearly a local thanked me for running.  The guy giving up his time to help sweaty, tired and possibly unsteady strangers thanked me.  Then he said, "Thank you for helping us take our city back."  That's where the tears came.  I will never forget that moment. I don't often admit it, but I know running for me is a selfish hobby.  It's about my PRs.  It's about my mileage goals.  It's about me feeling good about myself.  But, on this day I didn't feel selfish.  I felt like my run was part of something much more important.  Along with 36,000 other runners and 1,000,000 spectators, we wrote a new chapter and left Boston with fond new memories of the best marathon in the world.
   

April 15th

I have no interest in watching the memorials in Boston today.  I don’t want to read the retrospectives in the papers.  And most importantly, I don’t want to see the pictures and videos from the afternoon of April 15, 2013.  As a nightly news producer, these are tough demands. Right now, there are no fewer than six television monitors in my peripheral vision showing these very images.  I am sure I will have to show them tonight.

A few months back, a friend and fellow Boston Marathon runner sent me an advance copy of a book by the first newspaper reporters to arrive at the scene of the blasts.  When I got word it was in the mail, I looked forward to reading it.  I’m sure it’s a fantastic book by two excellent journalists.  But, once I saw the cover with its billowing smoke and panicked faces juxtaposed against the backdrop of one of my favorite sites in the world, I knew I didn't want to go any further.  Not now. 

I’m not saying that retrospect and reflection are not valid coping methods.  They just are not mine.  The truth is, for the past year, I have thought very little about the 117^th running of the Boston marathon instead focusing as much as possible on the 118^th running.  For me, the only way to cope with what happened last year is to move forward.  I loathe that you can’t mention the Boston Marathon without mentioning the words “terror”, “bombs” or “murder” in close proximity.  I detest that the actions of two young punks have come to define this day.

We can’t forget what happened.  We can’t forget the lives that were lost or the lives that were ruined.  But, we can reclaim the Boston Marathon.  What has the Boston Marathon been about since 1897?  It’s been about the power of the human body and the triumph of the human spirit. That’s what we will be celebrating Monday when one million people fearlessly line the streets from Hopkinton to Boston to cheer on 36,000 runners who aren’t afraid of the pain produced by running 26.2 miles in one stretch.  Crossing the finish line that day will end a painful chapter in what has for the last 118 years been a beautiful story. 

Boston with a Purpose

Since literally stopping in the middle of a run and deciding not to race the Boston Marathon more than a month ago, I have spent a lot of time thinking about how I would experience the race this year. With a non-refundable down payment already made on apartment near the finish line, not attending is not an option.  Even without the down payment, not attending is not an option.  Even though I am physically unable to race at the level I’d like, I’m going to attend in some other capacity to be part of what will undoubtedly be an historic one. 

Originally, I thought I’d spectate. Why not?  It’s a role just as important as the participants’.  Without the support of the massive crowds lining the streets from Hopkinton to Copley Square, the Boston Marathon is just a couple thousand crazy people going on a group run and clogging up traffic.  I also contemplated throwing myself into full work mode.  I could take pictures, tweet, field produce, whatever the mother ship needed.  Then, I remembered Allen Strickland.  I mean, I didn’t ever forget Allen Strickland.  He’s a pretty memorable dude.  But, I remembered he was running and for him, April 21^st was going to be an important day for two reasons.

Let’s go back to 2012.  After working his ass off to qualify, Allen, who’s excellent blog is appropriately titled “Allen’s Road to Boston”, had finally made it into the field.  He was in great shape and prepared to run a personal best.  What he and most of the other runners in the field were not prepared for was the heat and humidity.  The Reader’s Digest version is that Allen had a bad day.  The heat took its toll and Allen limped across the line, head hanging, in just over five hours. It’s a sad story of a man’s dream to conquer Boston being stolen by the one factor a marathon runner can’t control.   

That said, Allen’s official finisher’s photo is one of the most unintentionally hilarious things I've ever seen.  The juxtaposition of emotions happening here could not be more perfect. 

Also hilarious, an incident that happened to Allen late in the race.  His words:

“Somewhere very late in the race – I can’t be sure where as I was no longer coherent – a belligerent drunk girl angrily berated my fellow walkers and me.  “This is the Boston $%^&ing marathon, the greatest marathon in the world!  Show some respect and run!  Jog it out!!  Jog it the #$%! out!” 

I spent the day after that race recovering with Allen, and he could not have handled his misfortune better.  Allen has been able to laugh about a day that unarguably sucked from the get go.  Perhaps that’s why he formed Team JITFO; the acronym inspired by that drunk girl somewhere in Greater Boston.  On April 21^st, he’ll give the World’s Greatest Marathon another shot and he’s allowed me to run alongside him.  Allen’s goal is to set a personal best and if I can help in any way, it will make me feel like I went back to Boston with a purpose.  Granted, my running over the past month has been minimal, but I think I have enough fitness to keep Allen from having to revive me somewhere near Newton. 

Since I last posted, I've gone from being extremely depressed about my Boston decision to being extremely excited about experiencing Boston in a different way.  At least once on every run I think about how electric the atmosphere is going to be that weekend and about being a part of what is bound to be a day I will never forget.  So, thanks to Allen for letting me tag along.  If we get tired, we know what to do.  

Lesson Learned

I was eight miles in to what could have been an eight mile run or a long run last Sunday.  I was a half-mile from home and I had to decide whether to soldier on for another eight to nine miles, or call it a day.  My knee was tight and covered in KT tape.  My hamstring was covered in so much Tiger Balm I could smell it through my tights.  It was 21 degrees.  And as I stood there on the side of the road next to the Erie Canal in Newark, I reached a catharsis that would have been obvious to any impartial observer.  Not only was it time to call it a day.  It was time to stop training for the Boston Marathon.

The possibility had been in my head for weeks.  From January to February, I gradually got to a point where the idea of running and racing was still thrilling, but the actual act of running was dreadful.  Out of seven weekly runs totaling in the neighborhood of 80 miles, it was a good week if one of them felt good.  Most of them felt clunky.  Some of them felt downright terrible.  On the latter type of runs, I would come back and tell Lauren that if I had one more run like that, I was going to pull the plug on Boston.  The next day, I would feel just good enough to expunge that thought.  This happened no fewer than five times.

Now that I have had a week to reflect upon, regret and then reaffirm this decision, it's pretty clear that I never should have signed up for this race in the first place.  The first thing -- literally the first thing -- I said when I crossed the finish line of the 2013 Boston Marathon was "that's enough of that for a while."  I said it to myself, but I said it out loud. I was exhausted in a way I have never been exhausted before.  It was almost like an out-of-body experience. Two days later when President Obama gave a rousing speech in Boston as I listened outside the building, I did a complete 180, letting the emotions of what happened on April 16th cloud my common sense.

I had started to get sick and developed chronic insomnia before the 2013 race.  By race day, I was sleeping an average of three to four hours a night and was only scratching the surface of what might be wrong with my body.  The race just added extra stress to a system that was already at capacity.  I ran a half-way decent half marathon five weeks later for God-knows why.  Then, I ran a couple of sub-par five mile races in Central Park before spending the rest of 2013 running what I believed to be a reduced volume and intensity.  I put getting my body healthy and training myself to sleep without anxiety at the top of my priority list and actually started cracking the mystery in the early fall.  It was hard, costly, frustrating work.

By December, everything was back to normal and I was feeling strong and determined again.  I raced a couple of low key five milers, finishing second in one and winning the other and a 15K in the bitter wind and snow during which I raced my heart out with two local runners who are generally in my wheelhouse when I'm in good shape.   At that is where the pendulum starts to go back in the opposite direction.

In early January, my knee flared up randomly forcing me to take a week off.  I bounced back quickly and was running 80 miles a week and hitting the time goals of all my workouts.  But, if I am honest with myself, I rarely felt like I was firing on all cylinders.  Something about my stride and my effort wasn't right, but I can't quite pinpoint what it was. On top of that, this winter has been soul crushing.  I grew up with brutal winters, but I have never attempted to train through a winter as relentless as this one. After a 22 mile run on the course in Boston in early February, my left hamstring and left foot bothered me and that quickly caused my knee problems to return.  I took another three days off and was back at it again.  After that, the knee hurt 75% of the time.  It never returned to a point where running was impossible, but it sure did a good job of sucking all the joy out of it.  Worse than that, if I did a hard workout, I would spend the rest of the night unable to sit or keep my knee bent for long periods of time because it was unbelievably uncomfortable. 

Mendon Ponds County Park is where I did my first "long run" as a teenager. This winter, I slogged through a long run there for the first time in 12 years.  During my run, the Regional Snow Shoe Racing Championship was going on. 

In the end, I just decided I didn't want to do that for six more weeks.  Could I have toughed it out and raced Boston?  Most likely, yes.  But, it would only have been a memorable experience for how much it sucked.  I also started to think long term.  If I pushed my body to Boston when it clearly didn't want to go, how much more damage would I do?  I love running.  It is not my exercise.  It's my therapy.  It's my church.  To say it's a big part of who I am would be an understatement. Do I want to risk all that to settle some sort of emotional vendetta?   I want to be running and racing 20 years from now.  But, only smart runners get to be lifelong runners.  Runners who don't listen become triathletes.  (just kidding!  Making sure my tri friends are paying attention).  I went to great lengths to get healthy again and it was working, but after nearly a year of health issues, I don't think I gave my body enough time to recover to a point where it could handle such intensity.

I have great training partners in New York who are going to demolish Boston, hills be damned.  I have a coach that I believe is probably the best kept secret in marathon running.  Those are the people who indirectly made this decision way harder.  That's a good thing.  I didn't want to stop training with them and working under Terry's guidance.  They made it easy to forget about the pain because the camaraderie was so much fun. 

I can't not be in Boston on April 21st.  I will be there, but in what capacity I don't know yet.  I've thought of running it for fun and taking it all in if my knee is better after a prolonged rest.  I've thought of working.  I've thought of being at the finish line.  I have some time to make that decision.  What is going to be amazing about Boston this year is the show of force from everyone who comes out on race day.  From the runners to the spectators, we all play an important role in being Boston Strong.  I plan to play my part.

I stopped writing about running in this blog months ago because I was afraid it was getting too negative.  Hindsight again being what it is, that feeling is something I probably should have addressed more carefully.  So, I hope this post doesn't come off negative.  I'm bummed about not racing next month, no doubt, but at this very moment, I am filled with optimism.  Even after a week of complete rest, I feel like a different person.  I can only imagine what I will feel like after at least two more weeks of complete rest.  It's something I haven't done in seven years.  The focus is on the summer and the fall and running fun, fast races.  But, I don't see any marathons in my near future.

Better Late than Never. The Annual Oscars Blog

The stars are already in their seats at the Dolby Theater in Hollywood.  The envelopes are stuffed and I am just finishing the last of the nine movies nominated for “Best Picture” at this year’s Academy Awards.  I’ve never put out my annual Oscar blog even remotely this close to the deadline.  Perhaps my tardiness stems from a lack of investment in this year’s ceremony.  Last year, I was on the red carpet, covering the awards.  This year, I will be watching on my couch. Both have their pluses. But, I think the bulk of my procrastination is because of how disappointing this year’s nominees are.  There were only two movies I really loved.  I liked/was truly entertained by a handful and I only hated one, but this year’s Oscars are really about some fantastic performances in mediocre movies. On that note, unlike year’s past, I am missing one “Best Actress” nomination.  I could not bring myself to watch “August: Osage County”.  I could be way off, but it just seems like a bunch of actors sitting around a table trying to out-act each other.  I don’t know if I could stomach two hours of a movie that’s entire goal was to generate Oscar nominations.  Meryl Streep is the greatest actress of our generation, blah blah blah. I get it.  I’m confident without seeing the movie that award belongs to someone else anyway.  But, I digress…

Movie(s) I loved:

Her – When I saw the preview for this movie, I was pretty sure it was going to be terrible.  Maybe low expectations are what propelled “Her” to the top of the list for me.  But, “Her” is not about a man falling in love with the operating system on his phone.  It’s about so much more than that.  It articulates the state of modern human relationships, between both friends and lovers in a way that’s undeniably true without being preachy.   “Her” is deep and thought provoking.  Lauren and I watched it on a train and despite the less-than-optimal viewing conditions I was completely drawn in.  I know it’s a tired comparison, but if like me, you think “Eternal Sunshine on the Spotless Mind” is one of the best movies of the past 10 years, you’ll appreciate this movie.

Wolf of Wall Street – I don’t know what it says about me that two years in a row I have loved the movie most people found too crass and offensive ("Djiango Unchained" last year).  It’s true, this movie was an hour too long, but it was funny in ways that it shouldn’t have been and it was packed with awesome performances.  Say what you will about Jonah Hill, but he can back up his newfound swagger with this role.  Other than Barkhad Abdi in “Captain Philips”, his was the most visible of the Best Supporting Actor nominees. What I loved most about this movie was that it changed between hilarious and despicable at the drop of a hat.  As I’ll detail below, there were a lot of “true stories” that strayed from the facts.  This one didn’t seem to go down that road.

Movies I liked:

Nebraska – If I had a category called “Movies I REALLY Liked”, “Nebraska” would be in it.  I can’t say I genuinely loved it, but I came close.  I thought the black and white thing was going to be gimmicky, but when you watch this movie it makes sense. It’s the characters that are colorful and complex.  Their backdrop is boring and bland.  Bruce Dern would win Best Actor almost any other year (more on that later) with his character of a drunk, absentee and borderline abusive husband and father that you for some reason feel bad for.  Will Forte who I hated on “Saturday Night Live”…hated…is excellent in the role of a son trying to solidify some sort of relationship with his father before it’s too late.  There is a lot of Jonathan Franzen-esque dysfunction in the family profiled in “Nebraska”, but unlike Franzen characters, I like and therefore, care about these people.

Philomena – When I finished watching “Philomena”, I put it in the “Movies I Loved” category with “Her”.  Then, I researched it.  I loved this movie because the story was so compelling.  There was a heartbreaking narrative that concluded with a satisfying redemption.  Unfortunately, a chunk of that satisfying redemption is dramatic license.  It didn’t really happen.  I think if you are going to make a true story, tell the real story.  Finding out that my favorite scene of this movie never really happened was disappointing.  Had the scene not been in the movie at all and the true story been told, “Philomena” likely would have been at the top of my list.

Captain Phillips – If I were just judging the last 15 minutes of a movie, “Captain Phillips”, it wins best picture.  It’s as intense as “Gravity” and “12 Years a Slave” for that final sequence.  What I loved about this movie is that it doesn’t get bogged down with backstory.  It provided me with just enough context to know that Captain Phillips character is a husband and the hijackers are desperate people doing the only thing they can do to make money and stay alive.  Then, it moved on to the action.  But, this movie lost points for the same reason as “Philomena”.  According to almost every other crewmember of the Maersk Alabama, the real Captain Phillips was much more responsible for steering the ship into pirate waters than this movie shows.  Would including that make the movie’s final scenes any less climactic?  I don’t think so.  I do however, think Tom Hanks was phenomenal in this role (full disclosure: I’m a big Tom Hanks fan, but this is one of his best performances) and deserved a nomination.

Dallas Buyers Club – Looking for a theme amongst this year’s nominees?  “Dallas Buyers Club” joins “Captain Phillips” and “Philomena” as true stories that aren’t really true.  Matthew McConaughey solidifies his acting credentials as a sickly-looking AIDS patient in what I think is his best role (other than “True Detective”) and the performance of the year.  But, his character’s transformation from homophobe to best friend of a transgender woman didn’t happen in real life.  Ron Woodruff was apparently bi-sexual.  Why wasn’t that the story?  Still, this is a very good movie with very strong performances.  I saw it months ago, so forgive my forgetfulness. 

American Hustle – I had a blast watching this movie.  The dialogue is witty.  It nails the cheesiness of the 70s.  It’s music is foot tapping.  The actors shine.  The problem with “American Hustle” is that it’s not memorable.  I could tell you very little about this movie today.  Christian Bale sports a so-bad-it’s-good comb over.  Jennifer Lawrence cleans the house and dances wildly as “Live and Let Die” blasts on the stereo.  Amy Adams sexes it up.  No spoilers there. Those are all things you can glean from this movie by watching the trailer.  As I said, this was a good movie.  But, it pales in comparison to David O. Russell’s last movie, “Silver Linings Playbook” and I am not really sure it’s deserving of the multitude of nominations it received.

Gravity – “Gravity” is the only nominee I saw twice.  It’s intensely beautiful on the big screen and would lose 90% of its awesomeness once you put it in a personal DVD player.  If you haven’t seen it and it’s not in a theater, don’t bother.   “Gravity” is a cinematic masterpiece.  With a nod to “Avatar”, it is THE cinematic masterpiece of the decade.  But, amazing screenplay it is not.  There are some very cheesy lines in this movie that are wholly unnecessary.  There’s an entire subplot involving Sandra Bullock’s character that I think was included to make me care more about her eventual fate.  But, I already care about her eventual fate.  She is a human being stuck in space without a way back to Earth.  It’s a race against the clock.  That is enough to make me care.  The dialogue is an attempt to tug on heartstrings that are already pretty taught. 

12 Years a Slave – It’s hard to say I loved this movie because it is so incredibly hard to watch.  This is not a film made to entertain.  In fact, I had a hard time setting aside an evening to watch this movie because I knew what I was in for was work.  There are some scenes in “12 Years a Slave” that are absolutely gut-wrenching.  The scene everyone talks about is the one in which the main character is nearly hanged.  Its notoriousness is not without warrant.  It goes on for way too long, which is undoubtedly Steve McQueen’s intent.  There is a man gasping for air with a noose around his neck and behind him everyone, black and white, are going about their daily lives as if he’s not even there.  “12 Years a Slave” is an important movie.  There’s a reason it’s going to end up on the curriculum of many schools’ history courses.  But sometimes it’s subtly is not subtle at all.  There are a lot of metaphors in this movie that slap you in the face.  Watch it.  Even if you don’t have a keen eye for that sort of thing, you’ll see it.

Movie(s) I hated:

Blue Jasmine – I’m going to say something I have been thinking for a long time now.  Last year, it would have been blasphemy.  This year, it’s almost cliché because of the whole Dylan Farrow controversy.  But, I don’t like Woody Allen.  I keep thinking maybe I just don’t get it, and maybe that’s the case. That’s enough reason for me not to like a filmmaker right?  I have tried really hard to enjoy Allen’s movies, but the last two years, his movies have been the ones I have found to be the biggest waste of my time.  Blue Jasmine is not funny.  It’s not entertaining.  It’s not important.  It’s not even sad.  It’s just a bunch of insufferable characters ruining each other’s lives.   Much like in “Midnight in Paris”, the only remotely likeable character in “Blue Jasmine” is too stupid for her own good making even her hard to root for.  My hatred of this movie aside, Cate Blanchett is awesome in it.  I hate her character and I don’t give a damn what happens to her, but she owns it. 

Best Supporting Actor:

Who Should Win: Barkhad Abdi (Captain Phillips)

Who Will Win: Jared Leto (Dallas Buyers Club).  It’s a good performance, but not a lot of screen time.  He’ll win because the Academy loves men playing women and visa versa.

 

Best Supporting Actress

Who Should Win: Lupita Nyong’o (12 Years a Slave)

Who Will Win: Jennifer Lawrence (American Hustle)  For all its nominations, I think this will be the only award “American Hustle” will get

Best Actor

Who Should Win: Matthew McConaughey (Dallas Buyers Club)

Who Will Win: Matthew McConaughey (Dallas Buyers Club)  I’d say Leonardo DiCaprio could be a surprise, but he’s not a favorite with the voters.

Best Actress

Who Should Win: Cate Blanchett (Blue Jasmine)

Who Will Win: Cate Blanchett (Blue Jasmine)  The Woody Allen controversy has not hurt her chances.

Best Picture
What Should Win: Gravity

What Will Win: 12 Years a Slave.  I was torn, but if the category is “Best Picture”, “Gravity” wins.  It is simply on a whole different level of film making than its competitors.  But, I think the Academy will make a statement with “12 Years a Slave”.

America's Next Sock Model & Other Musings on a Quiet Fall

I was subtly reminded over the weekend that I have fallen a bit behind on keeping up my blog ("Your blog sucks," --Meagan Nedlo.  Oh yeah, Meagan?  Well, spell check suggests I change your last name to "noodle".).  It was the kick in the pants I needed to write an entry despite not being even slightly motivated to do so.

That has really been the theme as it relates to activities other than family, work and fantasy football lately. Although, the fantasy football part is not going all that great.   That sort of lackadaisicalness or perhaps hyper-focus on what is the most important right now has had the most impact on my running and my writing.  I haven't thought much about either lately in hopes that time away will re-ignite some passions.

The most important update since my last update is that things in general are a lot better than they were. I never count my chickens (or is it eggs I should be counting?), but the health issues that plagued me since February seem to be resolving.  Monthly blood tests have shown levels nearing normal and sleep is no longer a chore.  I can't say 100% for sure that it's the new gluten-free diet that's lead to all the positive changes, but if it's not, it's one heck of a coincidence. Plus, I've really learned to love hard cider (served like beer, made like wine), and I don't miss bread all that much, so I think I'll stick with it. Cookies are tough though.  Real tough because cookies are EVERYWHERE.  Cookie dough ice cream? Out! Cookie cake?  Don't even think about it.

During my hiatus, I turned 30.  That was terrifying.  You can use your 20s as an excuse for all sorts of immature actions and naivety.  "Did I forget to pay the electric bill 4 months in a row?  Oh, 20s..."  Your 30s?  Not so much.  Plus, 30 is the age where the internet tells me bad things will start to happen to me.  My metabolism will slow down, my body will heal slower, I'll creak when I walk.  It's when a myriad of terminal and chronic diseases show up.  But regardless of all that,  my 30th birthday was pretty special.  My family and many of my closest friends came out to celebrate and I decided growing old won't be so bad with so many awesome people in my life.

With Dad, Mom and Lauren at the 30th birthday dinner

With the exception of some stubborn tendinitis in my left hamstring, running feels nearly natural again.  I've kept my promise and done only easy running since the Autism Speaks 4 Miler in early September.  It's allowed me to be completely flexible with when I run or who I run with.  I'm coaching Lauren for next week's New York City Marathon and I've been able to sneak in some runs with her here and there.  Like last year, I'm trying to ensure that Lauren's running takes priority over mine as she prepares for her big race.

Yesterday, after a beautiful long run on the Chessie Trail in Lexington, Virginia where we had traveled for Lauren's 10 year college reunion, I started thinking seriously about Boston and how I'd approach it this year.  That required some reflection on what worked and what didn't work last year.  There's a lot more that didn't work than did.  First of all, I'm not very good at coaching myself.  It's self-motivation that's my problem.  I don't lack it.  I have too much of it.  I push through workouts I shouldn't be doing and run too far and too fast on easy days.  I want to make the most of this upcoming Boston experience and it's going to take someone who's smarter than me to make that happen.  So, that's step one.

Secondly, I started training way too early.  With an 18 week training program, I was probably ready to run a great marathon in mid to late February.  Instead, I had six weeks left with which to get sick, completely flame out and run a mediocre marathon.  This year, come December, I plan to be running a little bit harder than I am now, but it will be more of a transitional phase building a base for a 12 week program that starts in 2014.
On a completely separate note, I'd like to talk about my new leg modeling career.  I was halfway through a post-work, pre-bed nightcap when I got an email from a co-worker saying her neighbor, a photographer, needed runners legs.  Flattered and not at all creeped out, I told her I was interested.  The deal was $300 to model compression socks for a very well-known sporting apparel company.  I arrived at the studio in the East Village not really sure what to expect.  I pulled on the first pair of socks and the photographer and I immediately both knew we had a problem.  My leg hair was sticking out of the tight socks and was sure to show up on camera. I didn't want to lose $300, so I asked for a razor, went into the bathroom and shaved my left calf bald.  The rest of the shoot consisted of me hanging my left foot into space to recreate various stages of running.  Now,  I only look mildly ridiculous with one half of one hairless leg.  Contrary to what I have been lead to believe by  many a hairless cyclist, I have not noticed any aerodynamic advantage.

I'm not sure if I'll be contacted for any modeling gigs, or if any photographer is interested in shooting me from the calf up (probably not), but for now I don't think I'll quit my job and/or hire an agent and move to LA.

By the way, when I'm not blogging, I'm not reading blogs either, so if you announced an engagement, pregnancy, job change, sex change, etc. on your blog recently, I missed it.  So, congratulations on getting married, being a parent, your promotion and/or your new gender.

After months of hell, you can only hope that the answer is as easy as giving up beer.

To say that 2013 has been a bad year would be unfair.  I have met a lot of great people and learned so much about being married, living in New York City and producing TV news and I have forgotten half of it.  Instead, I'll call it puzzling.

Looking back at my last few posts, they have all addressed my ongoing health troubles.  They continue.  Every once in a while I'll have a run that doesn't feel terrible, or even a week where I start to feel like myself again, but one step forward almost always is followed by two steps back.  This has been going on for six months.  Through it all, I've had blood tests, brain scans, bone scans, seen an endocrinologist, seen a gastroenterologist, taken breaks from running, drastically reduced running, adopted a consistent work schedule, cut back on sugar, cut back on coffee, increased my iron intake, been medicated, been un-medicated, been re-medicated, and the the list goes on.  All of it with the same result which is no result.  We've ruled out brain tumors, thyroid problems, cancer, etc (all things doctors hypothesized, by the way).  But,  my blood levels are still far from normal.  My bones are still far from strong.  My sleep is still far from adequate.  My running has at the best plateaued, but I think it would be more accurate to say it has suffered greatly, which is of course, the least of my worries.

At my monthly check-in yesterday, I was ending my visit with an acupuncture treatment when the doctor came back into the room in the middle of my relaxation.  She had a lightbulb.  I either have Celiac's disease  or a severe gluten intolerance.  We talked about the signs and symptoms and it all made sense.  It's a hard condition to diagnose because the symptoms themselves are indicative of so many other issues, hence all the other tests.  People often have a lifelong "sensitive stomach."  I do, but I have always just written it off as a minor inconvenience.  The onset of the serious rejection is often marked by increased anxiety (re:insomnia) and as it develops you essentially become malnourished as your body stops absorbing nutrients.  That of course, comes with it's own subset of consequences; fatigue, malaise, fogginess, irritability to name a few of the fun ones.  I eat around the clock.  I would say I eat double the recommended amount of fruits and vegetables every day and I go to great lengths to ensure I get everything my body needs. I take supplements for things like Vitamin B, D and calcium just in case. There is no other way I could be malnourished unless something was wrong internally.

Now for the next test.  Monday, I'll have a blood test to check for antibodies consistent with gluten intolerance.  If the evidence continues to point in that direction, they'll put a tube down my throat which sounds like great fun for someone with a sensitive gag reflex.  But, I hope it's the gluten.  I really do.  I don't love the prospect of giving up breads, beer and cereal (although a quick Google search told me that both Guinness and Fruity Pebbles are OK), but at this point there isn't much I wouldn't give up to end what has been a nightmare.

Beer, no matter how delicious, is probably not in my future

I'll admit, I've been skeptical of the anti-gluten movement.  I've even written it off as a fad at times, but I know too many people who have had drastic transformations by eliminating it from their diet.   In the meantime, I think I am done racing for awhile.  This season just never got off the ground.  Since Boston, I haven't been proud of any workout or any race.  It turns out, it's incredibly difficult to run fast and hard in this state.  I am working way too hard for results that are well below expectations.  I don't see a point in towing the line if I can't run at the level I know I am capable of. The hope is that after a couple of months of recreational running and adjusting to a new way of eating, I'll feel like 1983-2012 Jay again.

Lauren told me the other day that I was a different person than I used to be, and she is right.  Worse than the impact on running, worse than the lack of sleep is that I feel withdrawn and pessimistic and that's not who I am or have ever been.  It's also not fair to the people who have to deal with me every day.  Furthermore, I'm sick of writing blog entries about this crap.  Time to take drastic measures, make sacrifices and hopefully end this year heading in the right direction.