My blogs reflect how I feel and what I think. Often they reflect a moment in time - a slice of how I feel that day. Other times it's something deeper, something that pulsates through me that I cannot control - I have to write about it in my own way. I proof them a couple times before before I hit the publish button. Sometimes I laugh. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes both. Once or twice I might have uttered the words "stick that in your pipe and smoke it" (my dad used that phrase from time to time). Lately the feedback is that my blogs are a tad angry and have one too many colorful words in them. True....and false. Ok, maybe more true than false. You will not find a single dirty, colorful, toilet bound word in my blog today.
I ran yesterday. Hee hee (see, happy not angry). 82 minutes of walking for two minutes, running for six, repeating until done. It wasn't about speed. It wasn't about form. It wasn't about training for a future race. Good Golly Miss Molly it wasn't even about hitting a certain mileage target. I just ran. I felt pretty good after the run - stretched and rolled after just to maintain my routine of prevention/recovery. Funny how you think all about prevention when you have an injury and tend to let it slip your mind when you feel fine. Why do we do this? Maybe because prevention takes time - which few of us have in surplus. I am now a believer. It has been preached to me for some time (Sharon) and reiterated by Dr Annie during my active release sessions. Will I continue to listen or will my thick head push it down to the recesses of my brain where the unimportant stuff resides? Stuff you don't really need but somehow feel like you have to keep it -who won the World Series in 89, geometry, always put the lid down when you're done, "i" before "e" except after...after...rats....
The run. I felt great. Knock on wood. Why knock on wood? We do that for luck. We do it because we are superstitious. We do it to ward off the evil of bad luck. I knocked on wood while wondering how I would feel later in the day and more important - the next day. Well here it is, day two. How do I feel? Pretty good I must say. The areas previously causing me to whimper and ask for my mommy feel ok today. I know they are there lurking in the background but they are in the background. That's where they will stay. Knock on wood. My calves are a tad sore but that's not really unexpected as the nearly 7 miles was the greatest distance I have traveled since early March.
Ok, one short story about my run. Though there were many of us running yesterday I ran alone - that's what happens when you walk/run. Also, I kind of like it. I love my fellow runners - love them! However at times you need to experience the trail alone. I ran the normal route and took a couple new trails which turned out to be pretty cool. Then I had to pee. When peeing in the woods one needs to find the perfect tree. A tree large enough to hide what is taking place is good. You also want to find one that gives you line of sight both in front and behind you so you know if anyone is coming. I struggled to find that tree and my bladder was very very close to release. Not having seen a soul for a while, I settled for a skinny little tree at the bend of the trail - just to be clear, I am not a skinny little tree guy. I'd be safer peeing in the California Redwoods....just sayin....Anyway, I am well into my ah..my bladder relief process when four girls run by. Where did they come from??? Each one about 5 yards back from the next. None of them moving very fast at all. Great. Mikey, a way too skinny tree, and endless pee that cannot be shut off. Hi girls....I'd wave but I'm a little busy right now....oh yes, beautiful day for a run.....no no, I'm fine, thanks anyway....
There is more than my running to knock on wood about. Things much more important. Taylor is having fewer seizures - knock on wood. Cameron made the Deans List and is doing great in school - knock on wood. My mom is not yet on dialysis and maybe she can avoid that - knock on wood. The sunbeam that warmed my face has also warmed my soul and I'd like it to stay with me forever - knock on wood. For my fellow injured runners, may today be a good day and tomorrow even better - knock on wood. To those uninjured, may you stay that way and run like the wind - knock on wood (and do your injury prevention exercises daily). Well what do you know? A happy blog with zero...count them zero...bad words (pee doesn't count).
* This blog has been rated G by the Blog Association of America a fully owned subsidy of the Motion Picture Association of America.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Driving with the brakes on
I am not a happy man today. My frustration level is off the charts. Not at you nor with you, but at myself. My recovery is simply not moving forward at a rate my brain acknowledges as movement. It's pace is like that of a glacier (less the global warming should you subscribe to that). It's like driving with the brakes on. I know, we all get injured, we all have stories, we all recover. Fine, tell me more, please oh please. I'll package it up and send it to some kid in Argentina - it doesn't help him either. You might think me pissy right now - maybe you don't like me - or maybe, just maybe you understand. Will that person step forward and raise their hand. A little higher please, I can't quite see it....
Have you even driven with one foot on the gas while resting the other gently on the brake? The fuel or energy you burn isn't the same. You need to expend more only to get less from it. Your progress is slowed. You are working against yourself and your engine pays the price. My engine I fear is fucked. Maybe it's worse - maybe the whole thing is totaled. That would be impossible I believe since I've not been in a wreak. I admit that there are enough parts and pieces of me that don't feel quite right that the repo man would drive right by figuring the remaining value isn't worth his effort. Come on Mikey, don't be that way. You're just feeling sorry for yourself. Really? I want to frickin run, lose weight, look in the mirror and count more than one ab. No, I'm not pregnant, just retaining a little water this week....but thanks for asking....jerk.
Here's the thing, sunshine is magic. Huh? Where the hell is he going with this? Another little yellow pill perhaps (NO!). Keep your pants on, I'm getting to it. Never...never before have I started a blog, walked away from it for hours then came back to finish. It's normally a sit on down and it just flows out - done. Today was different. I had knocked out the first two paragraphs when a sunbeam fell upon my face. It offered me a getaway, an escape. It's warmth was soothing, calming, and irresistible. My pain had not disappeared yet it was not the same poison that was pumping through my mind and body just minutes earlier. The sunbeam took me outside and carried me off. I was now on a journey. Hours flew by like minutes and my frustration began to melt away. Funny thing about that sunbeam - it never left me alone, never let my smile fade, it just stayed with me. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me but it might have even smiled back. I have always fancied sunbeams but this one was different. I must say I love that sunbeam.
Now the fact remains that I am having a dickins of a time getting all my parts and pieces working correctly. I know that this journey will force my emotions to ebb and flow until I am cured or I simply become used to the agitations my body inflicts on me. I will work on one thing at a time and maybe, maybe quit being so impatient. Those who know me also know that patience is not my strength. When I whine will you call me a PAMF or will you baby my feelings? Please don't baby me. Drive me. Crush me. Make my competitive side reach deep to find the things I can do while my body makes repairs to those areas in trouble. These small victories will help and who knows, maybe all this shit is tied together and something will click and all will be as it should be. That day I fear is not tomorrow nor the day after. I know it's out there though, it has to be. Until then I sure hope that sunbeam doesn't go anywhere. I'd like it to stay forever.
Have you even driven with one foot on the gas while resting the other gently on the brake? The fuel or energy you burn isn't the same. You need to expend more only to get less from it. Your progress is slowed. You are working against yourself and your engine pays the price. My engine I fear is fucked. Maybe it's worse - maybe the whole thing is totaled. That would be impossible I believe since I've not been in a wreak. I admit that there are enough parts and pieces of me that don't feel quite right that the repo man would drive right by figuring the remaining value isn't worth his effort. Come on Mikey, don't be that way. You're just feeling sorry for yourself. Really? I want to frickin run, lose weight, look in the mirror and count more than one ab. No, I'm not pregnant, just retaining a little water this week....but thanks for asking....jerk.
Here's the thing, sunshine is magic. Huh? Where the hell is he going with this? Another little yellow pill perhaps (NO!). Keep your pants on, I'm getting to it. Never...never before have I started a blog, walked away from it for hours then came back to finish. It's normally a sit on down and it just flows out - done. Today was different. I had knocked out the first two paragraphs when a sunbeam fell upon my face. It offered me a getaway, an escape. It's warmth was soothing, calming, and irresistible. My pain had not disappeared yet it was not the same poison that was pumping through my mind and body just minutes earlier. The sunbeam took me outside and carried me off. I was now on a journey. Hours flew by like minutes and my frustration began to melt away. Funny thing about that sunbeam - it never left me alone, never let my smile fade, it just stayed with me. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me but it might have even smiled back. I have always fancied sunbeams but this one was different. I must say I love that sunbeam.
Now the fact remains that I am having a dickins of a time getting all my parts and pieces working correctly. I know that this journey will force my emotions to ebb and flow until I am cured or I simply become used to the agitations my body inflicts on me. I will work on one thing at a time and maybe, maybe quit being so impatient. Those who know me also know that patience is not my strength. When I whine will you call me a PAMF or will you baby my feelings? Please don't baby me. Drive me. Crush me. Make my competitive side reach deep to find the things I can do while my body makes repairs to those areas in trouble. These small victories will help and who knows, maybe all this shit is tied together and something will click and all will be as it should be. That day I fear is not tomorrow nor the day after. I know it's out there though, it has to be. Until then I sure hope that sunbeam doesn't go anywhere. I'd like it to stay forever.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
My Little Yellow Pill
Let it be clear that I am not an addict nor do I endorse the use of non prescription drugs. That sounds a lot like a statement made on the last day of rehab. "No, I'm not just saying that to get out of here, I mostly...er...I completely believe it."
Like many great athletes, I have fallen into the trappings that come with too much fame and too much money. Wild sex parties, booze, and drugs. Oh the parties. One party rolls into the next and the next and the next, until one day you roll over and find a goat in your bed. At first you're disgusted but upon further examination you see that the goat actually looks better than some of the women you've been with. The goat mumbles something under its breath , trots off to pick up a six pack and never returns. Bastard.
Maybe it's not been quite like that but I will admit to becoming very friendly with some little yellow pills. You see (here comes my justification) my lower back has been hurting. Hurting to the point where I walk like an ape struggling with constipation. It started to seize up and spasm - too much of that and I'm on the floor for a couple days, unable to stand, unable to move. Who would come and empty my pee cup? Thank you. I know you would and that means a lot to me. On top of this, I just finished rehabbing two very tight muscles that had prevented me from running and had just received the all clear to run. F'ing back. I'd kick my own ass if I wasn't afraid I'd go into a muscle spasm and end up curled up in a ball on the floor crying for my mommy. Hey now, I only did that once so let's stop making such a big deal of it.
I was desperate. In the medicine cabinet I found some pills. Little yellow pills. The bottle indicated that they were to be used for muscle spasms and pain. Oh sweet Jesus, I'm saved! Now the prescription did not have my name on it however, there was something glorious on the bottom - the expiration date had not come and gone. Twenty minutes later I had figured out how to open the child proof cap and emptied a few into the palm of my hand. So innocent were they. Small pretty little yellow pills. Maybe I should try one. Then it came. You know, that little voice inside your head. It did not mince words with me. It said loud and clear - "TAKE ONE"....so I did. It was no big deal at first but hours later I begin to feel different. Not better but different. That was a week ago and I had that same conversation with the little voice every day since that day and it never let me down.
Thursday night I was told I was stoned. Today I went with the group on a trail run. I was going to walk to help loosen my back up. Running due to my F'ing back, was still taking a back seat. At the Y and on the drive to the trail, multiple comments were made about my lack of attention, my staring into nothing, and not quite being myself. Little yellow pill jokes were surfacing. I don't have a problem. I was on the trail for over 90 minutes today, most of it alone. At one point I suddenly begin to feel really good. I mean like nothing hurt, I was almost walking on air. I looked at the trail as it laid out before me and I heard it calling to me. Talking to me. Telling me it was ok to run. Everything would be ok. I kept walking and the road kept reaching up to me. I jogged a bit and we both smiled. Shortly I was around the corner and Anneke, Jen, and Robin were in the car waiting for me. I jogged towards them and slide in the car. Happy.
On the way to Starbucks and while sipping a coffee there, the girls mentioned my looking out into nothing and not being myself. I could feel that I wasn't all there but really could do little about it. Holy F'ing shit balls of fire, those yellow pills might have taken hold of me. I'd been taking them every day trying to get better. I probably had some mini interventions. Sharon had told me I was stoned. Jen and Robin giggled and shared similar words. Anneke said I wasn't myself. Gads...I'm a stoner. I committed to not take any more little yellow pills, nor the large white ones in the bottle next to them. That was hours ago and now I'm writing this blog with an ice pack on my back - yup, going old school. So worry not my friends, Mikey will be back to his old self Sunday morning. Maybe a bit shaky...maybe a bit sore...but he will be himself and really, you have to admit it, don't you just love that guy?!?!
Like many great athletes, I have fallen into the trappings that come with too much fame and too much money. Wild sex parties, booze, and drugs. Oh the parties. One party rolls into the next and the next and the next, until one day you roll over and find a goat in your bed. At first you're disgusted but upon further examination you see that the goat actually looks better than some of the women you've been with. The goat mumbles something under its breath , trots off to pick up a six pack and never returns. Bastard.
Maybe it's not been quite like that but I will admit to becoming very friendly with some little yellow pills. You see (here comes my justification) my lower back has been hurting. Hurting to the point where I walk like an ape struggling with constipation. It started to seize up and spasm - too much of that and I'm on the floor for a couple days, unable to stand, unable to move. Who would come and empty my pee cup? Thank you. I know you would and that means a lot to me. On top of this, I just finished rehabbing two very tight muscles that had prevented me from running and had just received the all clear to run. F'ing back. I'd kick my own ass if I wasn't afraid I'd go into a muscle spasm and end up curled up in a ball on the floor crying for my mommy. Hey now, I only did that once so let's stop making such a big deal of it.
I was desperate. In the medicine cabinet I found some pills. Little yellow pills. The bottle indicated that they were to be used for muscle spasms and pain. Oh sweet Jesus, I'm saved! Now the prescription did not have my name on it however, there was something glorious on the bottom - the expiration date had not come and gone. Twenty minutes later I had figured out how to open the child proof cap and emptied a few into the palm of my hand. So innocent were they. Small pretty little yellow pills. Maybe I should try one. Then it came. You know, that little voice inside your head. It did not mince words with me. It said loud and clear - "TAKE ONE"....so I did. It was no big deal at first but hours later I begin to feel different. Not better but different. That was a week ago and I had that same conversation with the little voice every day since that day and it never let me down.
Thursday night I was told I was stoned. Today I went with the group on a trail run. I was going to walk to help loosen my back up. Running due to my F'ing back, was still taking a back seat. At the Y and on the drive to the trail, multiple comments were made about my lack of attention, my staring into nothing, and not quite being myself. Little yellow pill jokes were surfacing. I don't have a problem. I was on the trail for over 90 minutes today, most of it alone. At one point I suddenly begin to feel really good. I mean like nothing hurt, I was almost walking on air. I looked at the trail as it laid out before me and I heard it calling to me. Talking to me. Telling me it was ok to run. Everything would be ok. I kept walking and the road kept reaching up to me. I jogged a bit and we both smiled. Shortly I was around the corner and Anneke, Jen, and Robin were in the car waiting for me. I jogged towards them and slide in the car. Happy.
On the way to Starbucks and while sipping a coffee there, the girls mentioned my looking out into nothing and not being myself. I could feel that I wasn't all there but really could do little about it. Holy F'ing shit balls of fire, those yellow pills might have taken hold of me. I'd been taking them every day trying to get better. I probably had some mini interventions. Sharon had told me I was stoned. Jen and Robin giggled and shared similar words. Anneke said I wasn't myself. Gads...I'm a stoner. I committed to not take any more little yellow pills, nor the large white ones in the bottle next to them. That was hours ago and now I'm writing this blog with an ice pack on my back - yup, going old school. So worry not my friends, Mikey will be back to his old self Sunday morning. Maybe a bit shaky...maybe a bit sore...but he will be himself and really, you have to admit it, don't you just love that guy?!?!
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