Did I really say I would run 16 miles?

I was actually pretty excited about running with Ed for one of his 16-mile loops on his quest to finish 100 miles and bring in a boatload of money to support the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I said I would help him out with the fourth loop, which had me meeting up with him about 5:00 p.m. on Saturday evening. The weather was a tad on the warm side, but even with that, the conditions were pretty favorable for running. No rain fell, as had been predicted — and had been my biggest fear.

In preparation I skipped the previous Friday's boot camp section to save my legs a bit. Besides that, I really wasn't all that prepared. Ed just made it seem rather ... can I say ... easy? He told me it would mostly be walking in the woods with a tiny bit of running interspersed and then times of politely looking the other way when he would be crying in misery. I hadn't been running much on my own up to that point. Besides a few days of boot camp during the week and long walks with Quixote and Jason (not on the beach, ha ha), I hadn't really pushed my body through any grueling workouts. However, the idea that it would be a lot of walking compelled me. I love walking. I love being out in the woods. I feel great when I can help someone out with a worthy cause. And when Ed's not talking about bad music, he can be an engaging conversationalist.

I arrived at Pinckney Rec Area with plenty of time to spare. I met Ed's son Brent and chatted with Caryn, who is probably one of the most sincere, friendliest people I've ever talked with. The crowds were pumped with electric tie-dye banners and signs. There was even a stage for a band. I was impressed with the turnout of people.

Ed had been having a good day, although he might say bad because he's one of those types who thinks running too fast can be a bad thing. Ah, those runners, so fickle. We met up slightly ahead of schedule and we were soon the only ones on the trail. The scenery was great. It's events like that that remind me how trail running beats the pants off road running or cement running or asphalt running. If you can't see or smell a car, you're going to enjoy yourself. Nature was showing off at her peak. The foliage was abundant and verdant. The pine needles littered the path like earth's best concocted cushion. But what was that smell? Ed though it was a skunk but after following behind him for a spell, I had my doubts. I think he was trying to create a diversion.

But then came his joke about a man pooping in his sleep in bed and I thought, Uh-oh, this is going to be a long 16. How can I possibly get out of this? As if that weren't enough, he started to wax on about Katy Perry's "talent." Hmmm ... this was going to be an exhausting day, and I wasn't even thinking about my legs!

Actually Ed showed a lot of grit and spirit and it was very inspiring. To think he already completed 48 miles before I even joined him was pretty impressive. He kept a fierce pace. I might have figured we'd be just walking but that's like saying Usain Bolt just jogs in the Olympics. That surprised me but I was determined to keep up. I felt like it was my duty to not complain, not badger him too much about how he was feeling and just be there to keep the pace and occasionally offer something slightly interesting to say.

However, my full 16-mile lap was not to be. I felt so upset when my knee initially started bothering me. I thought it was my heel lift, so I removed that. But the pain was still there. I tried to walk faster when Ed was jogging to avoid that stress, but that didn't help matters either. Not the ideal place for a pacer. I sorta hoped that shifting my balance or changing my stride would alleviate the growing splinters around my knee. Nothing was working and I was hugely dismayed. It finally became clear that I was going to have to punk out at an aid station and, boy, did I feel like a punk. But once Ed told me that he'd stick with me before he'd care about finishing the race, I knew I had to get out of there. If I really wanted to help him, then my best position would be off the trail. What kind of pacer forces her runner to hobble along with her? Not a very good one, I thought.

At the 10-mile marker with a knee of glass, I respectfully stepped off the trail and waved Ed on. I had no doubts that he would finish. And many hours later, he did. After I heard about how many times he threw up on that fourth loop once I bowed out, I felt pretty confident that I made the right decision at the right time. Sure, running 100 miles is pretty tough but running 16 with someone whose idea of conversation is Katy Perry's "talent" is rough too. I can't blame the guy though. Eating baked potatoes and Gu and throwing up repeatedly can do strange things to a person.

It figures since I do work for an accounting firm

I finally submitted all the necessary paperwork to receive my $200 athletic reimbursement. So, was my paycheck simply $200 more than my last one? NOPE! It was only $136 more. What a bunch of hogwash.

A glutton for punishment?

I've actually been thinking about disbanding this blog since I'm don't seem to bring much creativity to it these days. Plus I feel like I write about the same things, or don't' take enough time to write when I do. However, I will keep it going for another two weeks and I'll explain why later.



I decided to sign up for the month-long boot camp class to jumpstart my fitness level. I'd been going to the gym occasionally but most of my exercise free time was taken up with walking Quixote and if you know me, you know I don't feel that's really strenuous exercise, in terms of pushing myself outside my comfort level. My thinking was that 12 tough classes over the course of a month would help whip me into shape. And if I think I'm increasing my prowess, well I can measure my before and after results at boot camp. The first week we did about five exercises and recorded our times or repetitions and after a month, we'll see how much we have improved. We also had ourselves measured which was a new thing to me. My curiosity is definitely aroused seeing what kind of differences will show up. I thought it was funny that the diameter of my calf was measured. Ha! Watch out world! Here comes my explosive calves above my birdlike ankles!!



Well anyways, I'm a couple classes in and Ed starts talking to me about his Hallunication 100. The thought alone makes me nearly hallucinate. He will be running approximately six 16-mile laps to raise money for LLS and prove what a maniac he truly is. Why does this matter to me? Because Ed suckered me into "pacing" him for a loop. Keep in mind, a loop is 16 miles. I don't even know what a pacer really does. All I can think of is a pace maker. Guess I'm supposed to help keep him alive, but I'm unsure of how to do that because really I'll be questioning if any sane person who has never walked 16 miles at one time would really try and accomplish this. The longest event I ever finished was a half-marathon and it wasn't my best effort with my increasingly sore knee. However, I did finish and I'm proud of that. Plus I like to be the sort of person who tests myself and sees how deep inside me I can dig to accomplish what I thought was previously un-accomplishable. (Even if I only like to do that about once every five years, if that.)


Well I told Ed to pencil me in and then I went to sleep that night and woke up in a fright of anxiety, wondering how overwhelming and and difficult this would be. This event is only two weeks away. This event will be on a weekend that is b eing bookended by two boot camp classes. I voiced my concerns to Ed but he assured me that while it would be tough, he'd be coming off some previous 48 miles and wouldn't be thinking of running 8:00 miles for our loop. Hmmm, only a small consolation. Then he said it'd be mostly walking and maybe about three miles of running. Hmmm, that is still 13 miles of walking. Then he says we can take time to stand and cry. Okay, glad that's factored in. Plus, if I totally can't go on and I can quit, right? I can fall down at an aid station. Right now I'm still committed and I'm just repeating the mantra that sometimes the big accomplishment isn't what you finish, it's what you start. I can at least do that much and help out Hallucination Ed.

Boot Camp

A full month of triweekly classes at Fit Barre Studio in Northville, Mich. This is the description from the website:

Bootcamp is a combination of core, multijointed exercises that take your heart rate from high to low for interval training that produces great results.

Cardio blast

I am thrilled that Quixote and I have been walking so much lately. I love walking. Sure, I might not consider it "exercise," in terms of a swelling heart rate, sweat dripping down my neck and huffing for breath. There does come a point though when duration trumps level of exertion. At that point, it's really exercise. On Saturday morning we took a new route all through parts of Northville that we had never seen before and we ended up walking for an hour and 40 minutes. On Sunday I took him for another hourlong walk. On Monday Jason and I both walked with him for more than two hours! We left the house in the daylight a little after 7:00 p.m. and it was night when we returned, complete with the crescent moon hovering above the line of the horizon. Then to top it all off, I hit the gym before work this morning and ran for 35 minutes straight. I've been slacking with running lately so it was a good boost to my self-esteem to just push myself and listen to some tunes. Here's a video for you, Ed. I couldn't find a decent video so this will have to do.

America dies on Dunkin: The controversy

I'm sure it's no surprise to my four readers that I think this doctor lost his job in a most unfair and egregious way. He's just pointing out the truth.

By Jacob Goldstein
Here’s a job-security tip: If you work for the county, and a county commissioner owns a doughnut store, you should think twice before you run public messages such as “Donuts = Diabetes” and “America Dies on Dunkin.”
We point this out because Jason Newsom, a public health doc in Bay County, Florida, was sacked after running these and other messages on an electronic sign outside the health department where he worked. Here’s the story from the Associated Press.
“I think he was somewhat of a zealot,” the county commissioner with the doughnut shop told the AP. “I don’t have a problem with him pushing an agenda, it’s the way he did it. People borrowed money to go into business and they are being attacked by the government.” In addition to the opposition from the county commissioner, two lawyers who own a Dunkin’ Donuts store had threatened to sue, Newsom says.
Doughnuts were not the sole target of Newsom’s campaign. Other messages included “Hamburger = Spare Tire” and “French Fries = Thunder Thighs.”
“I have never been known for my subtlety,” Newsom told the AP.
“Dunkin’ Donuts is pleased that the signs have been removed,” a spokesman for the company wrote in an email.
As of 2007, 39 percent of all adults in Bay County were overweight one in four was obese, the AP notes.

It only took two months!

I'm trying to hop back in the saddle even if my legs feel sort of rusty. I made it to a Bikram yoga class on Tuesday night for the first time since before we brought Quixote home. I think that takes me back to May. At the center, they told me my pass for 30 classes had expired and there were eight unused classes. Trying to entice me into more yoga, they said if I bought a new package, they would tack on those eight expired classes. So I bought a 15-class package for $175 and it expires in six months. Looks like I'll have to force myself into attending at least once a week into January to get my full money's worth. Don't think I'm just throwing my money around. I still have my 2009 athletic reimbursement to use up at my work. They'll pay for half that package and for half my gym membership fees for the year.

So, yeah, I am trying to make fitness a priority once again. Jason and I have been diligent about taking Quixote for daily walks, usually more than one a day. But at the rate we go, it's slow travel and it barely qualifies as an activity that raises your heart rate. He sniffs, we correct. He refuses to budge, we pull out the treats. At four months old, I'm not expecting him to be a perfect marathon companion on a leash, but we have to put in the work now, if we hope he'll be a great leash-walker in the future. I can't wait until the first day that he runs three miles by my side. That will be super exciting!