Deja Vu

Rode my bike today.  Thank you for that thunderous applause - yes it was quite something.  I've never been much of a rider, but then again, I've never really given it much of a chance.  Lately however I've felt a renewed sense of fitness.  I'm part of this crazy knock out 20,000 pushups this year program - that likely deserves its own blog, or at least a sentence scratched out on the side of a bathroom stall "went at it hard, knocked it out, feeling pumped".  Ok, that may not be the best place for it.  My running is improving.  I'm actually doing all those stupid time intensive preventative exercises that no one does until they get injured.  At that moment every one of us thinks to ourselves "I should have been doing them all along".  Guilty.  Slap me in irons captain.  Better yet force me to do some squat jumps, donkey kicks, clam shells, and a host of other funked out exercises that make you look like a freak yet honestly can save you weeks if not months of rehab - not to mention avoiding the "I told you running was bad for you" look one gets from non-running non exercising gluten eating sugar pumping....sorry, got a bit carried away.  Anyhow, for the last couple weeks I'm getting in two 10 milers and a long run on Saturday.

My diet has also improved. I've since sent an apology letter to Hershey's, Ben & Jerry's, and Hostess. If you own stock in these companies please also accept my sincere apology.  Tip of the day - invest in spinach.  I love baby spinach - mostly because I can get the entire leaf in my mouth without having to cut it, fold it, jab it three times so it sits just right on my fork.  If you have spinach salad recipes, email me!

Sharon and I drove to the Centennial trail. Yes, we're quite green you know, driving an SUV so we can enjoy a ride in the clean crisp air. Don't judge me, I recycle. No sooner than we got on the bikes did we see the our partners in fitness just getting back from their ride. It was so good to see them, catch up, and have a few laughs. They are really good people.  But time is money or in this case miles, so we were off.  We did an out and back and the ride out held no surprises.  My quads began to burn and the bike seat as it does so often, played peak-a-boo with my ass.  I allow Sharon the luxury of drafting behind me on the way out. In turn I could draft behind her on the way back.  I could if however I was able to keep up with her.

Today was no different.  She was a good quarter of a mile ahead of me but luckily her and a couple other riders were stopped at a traffic signal which turned in our favor just as I pulled up.  I had momentum so quickly passed a young man and pedaled on.  Sharon quickly rode up and in moments was well ahead.  The young man also caught up as I heard an "on your left" as he flew past.  Off he went pedaling quickly until he came upon Sharon.  On my what happened then was a deja vu.  The guy starts riding past her, looks over, then slows down next to her.  Yes, off they rode into the sunset chatting back and forth as I fell further and further behind.  This happened in Chelan some time back and hard as I tried, I never caught up.  Today would be different my friends.  Today I had my renewed sense of fitness, Power bar drink, and I had successfully wrangled my ass free of the seat.  I was on a mission.  Head down and legs pumping hard I rode.  Today I would not be denied.  My God they are really moving.  How are they doing that?   I am now riding fast, my legs a blur, yelling "on your left" to every walker I passed.  Holy shit, I'm catching them.  I'm weaving around everyone shifting gears like a madman.  50 yards away, 30...10...I'm right behind them.  I slide to the left and yell out "on your left" as I pass them both.  Victory!  Or so I thought.  They were slowing down for the upcoming stop sign....gads.  What the heck, I had caught up and found that the young man was really much older and was riding from Canada to Mexico.  I tip my hat to him.  We chatted at the rest area and he told us about an energy drink that makes your lips buzz as soon as the liquid hits them.  I'm withholding the name to try it first just in case it's a real advantage :)  Next Saturday I'm racing with the Giant as part of a 2 person Triathlon relay team.  Can't wait for that and to once again see some of my good friends at the event.

Hell Run

I debated writing down my thoughts regarding today's run because I don't want to sound like I'm complaining.  However I am so frustrated that I'm hoping it works like a good therapist - lie on the couch and spill your most inner feelings, get up, write a check for $300 and go home feeling better.  If you know me you know that I am fiscally responsible thus this blog - cost $0.

There was nothing unusual about my morning pre run routine. I'm a little boring that way.  Bowl of Cheerios and a cup of coffee, visit the bathroom (thank you coffee), take a couple hits off my various inhalers, set the timer for 20 minutes (giving the inhaler time to work), greet my firm black roller and let it do its thing to wake up my legs, calves, and back. From there it's the iPod, Garmin, fuel belt, shoes, gang banger beanie, and so forth. Timer goes off and I'm ready to walk out the front door. Today was well, just that.

On the docket was a slow 12 mile loop that I have done before. The first 3 miles were without incident though I noticed the wind was at my back so part of the loop would be into the wind.  By mile 4 the wind was hitting me dead on and I felt myself slow. No big deal, it's long slow run day. I'll note here that the wind was in my face for the remaining  miles...Another half mile or so and I was feeling a little off but that feeling can come and go as a runner regardless of your distance so I plugged forward.  Safeway is just beyond mile 7 and a regular pee stop, again, today was no different.  I'm back on the road swinging past Fred Meyer when stomach cramps hit me like a brick thrown at your gut. Holy shit, I could barely run upright and I'm 5 miles from home.

Many a runner gets cramps and we simply hope at some point - sooner than later - we slip out a little gas. No such luck, Mr. Fart did not have my address apparently. My gait is now affected because I cannot stand tall no matter how hard I try. 4 miles to home and I'm barely moving - the fetal position sounds real good right now.  I'm now passing Lowes when my calves begin to cramp up. Yes, both of them.  Between my stomach and my calves I can't seem to run straight and look like a drunk runner.  I thought about stopping and walking but I knew there was an end result that would come from those stomach cramps and I wanted to be home for that.

I could see Starbucks ahead and from there I was less than two miles from home. The closer I got the more I knew I needed to stop and hit the can. My fuel drink was ready to let loose and I had to stop. I walk through the door of this very busy Starbuck and who arrives?  Yes, Mr. Fart.  He simply had a mind of his own and was quite vocal as I made my way through the crowd to the bathroom.  He continued to speak to whomever would listen as I left and stepped onto the sidewalk to finish my journey.

The first couple steps assured me that my calves would continue kick my butt the rest of the run. To my surprise however was the back left side of my left knee. It too decided that it would deliver constant pain for the next two miles. I'm sure this was due to how I was running for the past 3-4 miles as I have never had any trouble in the past.  I made it home. That was 3 hours ago and I have said hello to the john many times, currently have ice on my left knee, and am sipping water.

A non runner might read this and say this is exactly why they don't run and running is stupid.  That is fine as long as they swallow the donut first as it's impolite to talk with one's mouth full.  A runner might read this and say, yup, had a day like that once myself, but the hundreds of other days that are pure bliss make it all worthwhile. After purging my thoughts through this blog I'd have to agree with the runner. Though I wouldn't mind a donut....

Seattle Hot Chocolate 15K

Today was a good day. I ran a 15k. In fact what started out to be a “fun run” turned out to be something quite a bit more. It slowly became more about what I really had inside. I surprised myself today with what I found. I should step back and remind us all that 2012 wasn’t my best running season. For whatever reason I was always trying to make a comeback. Silly boy. I had my share of oddities that kept me from training my best and in turn, giving my best. In December I decided to step back and start over. My training consisted of one run a week – a long one on Saturday, lifting weights, and deciding that doing 20,000 pushups in 2013 would be a good idea. By the way, we now have 61 people pumping out those pushups. I’ve been eating better too, although stick a bag of chips in front of me and you won’t see my head for a good fifteen minutes. Then it pops out and my face is covered with Lays, Cheetoes, or whatever the bag used to contain. So today’s 15k was going to be just another slow long run.

I had the utmost pleasure of running with Sharon and Jessica. Me and two pretty girls – must be the pushups I’m doing. Regardless, I was a lucky man. Anyway, Sharon is recovering from a heart procedure six weeks ago and Jessica hasn’t knocked out this many miles in some time so I figured we’d be running abreast. Reality was however that the only time we were side by side was waiting for the race to start. That wonderful time in the corral when you wait for your group to be released. We were cold and shivering and the anticipation of the run lingered in front of us. I had then decided to rub my crotch because ever since surgery last year, it seems to bother me when I run and a little rub on the right appears to do the trick. This of course was the exact moment the girl in front of me decided to turn around. Ah yes, hello, oh yes the crotch thing…well you know…oh I guess you don’t. We’re were all laughing and since I don’t really look like, well, one of “those guys”, she smiled and turned away. Shortly after our corral was released and we were off.

Sharon, Jessica, and I ran together for the first mile and as the norm, they were soon inching their way ahead of me. More like by the yard then the inch. I found myself watching them run, ponytails swishing back and forth, seemingly to move ahead effortlessly. In a moment they were gone. Invisible yet out there in the crowd somewhere. Poor me, alone again. The runner inside wanted to catch up and find them but the realist knew it would never happen. I decided to stay the course, maintain my plan, my strategy.

My plan was simple, run as if it was my normal long slow run and at the turnaround point (mile 6), pick up the pace if I was feeling up to it. Well hells bells this course had some mighty hills – long mighty hills. I hadn’t planned on that. Pushing myself uphill I would stare at a orange construction cone until I met it and quickly shift my eyes to the next one. At one point the hill was huge and I decided not to look up until I had passed 30 cones. At 31 I looked up. Damn, the top of the hill was at least 100+ cones further. I chatted with a few folks and the time passed more quickly. Suddenly I see Sharon coming back down the hill on the other side. A quick wave and I felt energized. I yelled out “trade places with me” which my fellow hill runners around me thought was way funnier than it really was however it helped get us up and over. Soon I turned the corner at the six mile mark and honestly I was feeling fine. Air was coming easy and I was smiling. I kicked it up a notch and decided to put the hammer down until I crossed the finish line. My legs were heavy but they kept up with the rest of me – good thing or it would have been ugly. I crossed the finish line blowing my planned time out of the water, nearly 90 seconds a mile faster than I had been running. I found Sharon and Jessica both of whom had finished some time ago and already had their post run treats. Hugs and kisses all around. I don’t have the official times but the girls rocked this race and it was time to celebrate. While we stretched The Creeper came over and was chatting with Jessica. He was the Creeper because of the way he’d been following her around and you know, sometimes you just get that creepy vibe. Sharon picked up on it too and we decided it was time to blast and hit Starbucks for that post race drink. The curse of being pretty coupled with the dark side of man.

What Sharon achieved today was remarkable and after the race I saw something in her eyes I hadn’t seen in quite some time. I was happy to see it. Jessica blew me away with her pace and pure happiness she seemed to get from the race. I found something in me today that I thought had gone away forever. It wasn’t just that I found I still had speed; it was something inside me when I ran. A joy that grew mile after mile. I didn’t curse the hills and as I came in the final mile, I was smiling. I loved it out there. I also loved running with my friends. Thank you girls for making today a very special day.

Michael Bitz: Power Walker

Yes, you read that right, I am a power walker. Let’s be completely clear about this – I’m not a walker, not a fitness walker, I am a power walker. What’s the difference you ask? The difference my friends is that I am doing it, as such it must be power walking. After months of fine running I found myself on the floor for three days unable to stand, having been bitch slapped by my lower back. Weeks of doing nothing has turned into a couple weeks of evening power walking. I cover the distance of my old race friend, the 5k. Mentally it feels good to walk a race distance. I am learning a few things as I PW (that’s what we in the know call it) and thought I would share.

Walkers code of conduct. Very limited if it exists. As a runner you always yield the left as a runner comes up behind you. Walkers however tend to float all over the sidewalk. It’s like they all have inner ear problems. Lord help you if there are two of them. They don’t budge. I call out a mild mannered “coming through” and the wall of rump in front of me seems to close up before I can get through. The other night I thought I wasn’t going to make it. Half way through, the gap was closing fast. I turned sideways, sucking myself into the thinnest stick of a man I could and just cleared those cheeks of death before darkness engulfed the street. One step slower and there might have been a mangled mess of a man left on the sidewalk gasping for breath and praying for some sanitizer.

Talking. Zipping along a runner will often see another runner coming at them. Due to the speed of the runners, there is barely time to say hi - generally just time for a quick head nod as you pass each other. Walkers on the other hand come at you slowly. You look at them and for the next 5 minutes while you pass each other there is time to exchange recipes. It is an awkward time for me. I am friendly but I don’t want to talk to anyone (I am a power walker after all). So I try not to make eye contact but the harder I try the more my eyes want to, have to look at them. Our eyes meet and I give the runners head nod. Now for the next 30-45 seconds I don’t know what to do. So I just keep giving the head nod until they pass. I find that it you do this, they will pick up their pace to get past you as soon as possible.

To combat all of this I have taken to wearing thug attire. Aside from my jet black sweat/PJ pants, I wear a sweatshirt with a large hood and a skull cap pulled down to my eyebrows that also covers my ears completely. I push my lips together and stare straight ahead. My gait however doesn’t help. My physical therapist says my hips are tight so I find myself swinging my hips back and forth. Add to this that I don’t want to heal strike so I lift my quads higher than normal with each step. Now I look like a gay thug power walker. No one talks to me now though occasionally I think I get a wink.

Next week the verdict on my return to running will be in. Tuesday is the day. I hope for good news and I can begin to run again. I’ll be more careful this time. I’ll work my core, stretch, continue the exercises to keep my glutes strong and hips loose. Until then I will power walk my way forward. In fact I will be out there in the rain shortly knocking out another 5k. If you see me feel free to say hi. Outside I may look tough but inside I can’t wait to see you.

Running: MIA

Seems I'm taking another sabbatical from running.  Not by choice of course, though that would at least make me feel better - to have some level of control (real or not) always makes me feel better.  No, this year little issues have cropped up and the best medicine has been to lay off the running and sometimes the weight lifting too.  I look back through my running log and see gaps that translate to reduced fitness levels and an extra pound or two.  I don't need the log to tell me I've added a few pounds.  Clothes and mirrors speak loudly.  Wear lots of clothes and for heaven's sake, avoid the mirror.  There's nothing worse than seeing yourself naked when you feel heavy.  Your first thought is whoa, that dude needs to work out or suck it in.  Sadly you're already sucking it in....

When you can't run suddenly everyone's a runner.  Everyone's running.  Old people... young people...they are everywhere and they all look fast.  Yesterday I was walking and a mom and her infant son ran by.  "Oh he was running by six months" she yells as she flies by trying to keep up with him.  I would have answered back but there was a curb coming up and I needed to conserve my strength. 

Another little secret is that when I don't run I have a tendency  to get a little cranky.  Oh it's hardly noticeable I'm sure but it's there.  It's not helped however by the out of shape over eating television watching non exerciser who sees me moving a little slower and a little guarded and remarks "Yeah, that's why I don't run".  My inside voice mutters something about a lazy snack munching slob but my outside voice say nothing.  I simply smile and slide the box of donuts a little closer to his outstretched sausage fingers.

I'm closing in on getting back to it and I can't wait.  To reconnect with friends, run off stress, and simply enjoy "being out there" will be great.  It won't be long until you begin to say to yourself "What the F, is the only thing that guy can post on facebook is how far he ran today?  Yes my friends, that will be a good day....

M-80

This time of year we hear M-80’s go off all the time. These illegal fireworks pack an explosive punch so great that you can feel it in your chest when it goes off. I imagine if you’re close to one it would take your breath away – even if you knew it was about to go off. Then you have to worry about the pee. Yes, some people actually pee a little (or a lot) when they get startled. An M-80 will do the trick. Stop it! I’m not talking about me. I do not pee when startled, I happen to spill water quite often that’s all. It would be nice to have that “medical” excuse. You know the one – “it’s because I had a baby”….”ever since little Johnny I can’t even sneeze or cough anymore without a little surprise”. Can you imagine a man trying that to explain away gas? “Oh sorry dear but ever since I carried your piano up those three flights of stairs”….

Clearly an M-80 is powerful. That is also one of the words I would use to describe the young man I had the pleasure of running a couple races with - Thomas, better known as “Little T”. Most recently we ran the Run of the Mill 5k together. In fact many of the Bertollisport gang was there to run, walk, or support. Sharon, Helena, Rita, Iain, Jessica, Marcie, Curt, Monica, and Savannah were on hand for the race. Each has their own incredible story about that run; stories that would make you smile and touch your heart. I will focus on just one. This is about the amazing journey I had running with T.

We arrived at the race ready to go. The sun was out and the 9:30 start time meant that the warmer temperature was going to make this run a little harder. I had my normal 2-3 potty stops before the race. I took T with me each time and made him try to go. Every time he’d look up at me and say “Mikey, I DON’T have to go”. At the same time he’d give me that look – the one that almost says I going to humor you you crazy old man but I’m not going to pee.

We jumped in line about 20 minutes before the start. We lined up behind the runners, in the official joggers chute. The instructions I gave T were simple. “Hold my hand until we get through the crowd and then you can run. I’ll be right behind you”. Well we hit the timing mat at the start line and his hand was gone. So was T….He was off and running. Mid you there were a lot of people in front of us and the first half mile or so was pretty packed. T would get boxed in behind people and I’d chuckle because I knew he was getting frustrated. Suddenly a small gap would open and bam, T would dart through, weave to the right or left, and sprint to open a gap before setting back to his pace. Holy shit, this kid is only six. I’m trying now to catch up and the gap has closed (or I’m to ah big) so I have to find a way around. Sometimes he’s done this 3-4 times in a row and I’m running all over trying to get back to him. I can see him looking around for the next opportunity to move through the crowd.

At the same time I’m laughing because of the faces I see and comments I hear as T does his thing. There is disbelief and praise. I’m sure a lot of those runners expected to see him further down the road walking because he was tired, burned out. Not this kid. He never stopped running. His arms would pump back and forth and his gaze forward – unless of course he was passing someone. Every time he passed he would turn his head and look up at the adult as if to wonder why they were moving so slowly. I worried that this might bother some runners so I would yell out “look straight T, watch where you’re going”. Inside I’m cracking up. I would have loved to been filming this.

At mile two he handed me a much needed invisible energy bar coupled with a knuckle bump and a smile. A bit later I could see the sweat on his face and we had just passed a table with bottles of water stacked up. I asked if he wanted water and he nodded. I told him to keep running and I ran back to fetch the water and caught up and handed it to him. He slowed and drank and handed the water back to me. He didn’t say thank you. His only words were “I didn’t stop, I’m not stopping”. That my friends was a thousand times better than a thank you. His determination was enough to choke a guy up – if a guy was to get choked up about that kind of stuff….As we ran on the memory of my first half marathon popped into my head. At mile 7 I had missed a Gu (energy) station and Albert told me to run on. He ran back and caught up to me with a Gu and water to wash it down. Thank you Albert.

Soon we could hear cheering so I knew the finish was near. T was ready to be done; he’d run his heart out. Up the hills, through the heat, in and out of runners. In no time we could hear Sharon shouting (screaming) for T and we breezed across the finish. One for the record books. Thomas set another PR, finishing in 32:45. Wow! Now it was time for hugs, water, donuts, and a Popsicle. I see the day coming when Little T will be at the finish line waiting for Mikey to finish. He’ll talk about his run and the new record he just set. I won’t hear much of what he says between my gasps of breath, ringing in my ears, and it’s never easy to hear when you’re doubled over. But like today, I will be proud of him.

Tulip Terror

Sure there are things I’m afraid of or maybe it’s manlier to say “not comfortable with” – such as water, meteors on a collision course with Earth, woman with more facial hair than I, but tulips? Pretty little tulips? It wasn’t so much an actual tulip but more the 2 mile race today. Terror is really too strong of a word, I’m no pussy after all. Stop it, I’m really not. It was a BIG sliver and I wasn’t crying…sometimes my eyes water…stupid eyes.

Yes, I raced today. It’s been sometime since I’ve done that. I admit I was a bit nervous. You know I’m on my comeback and my mileage has been increasing. Long slow miles which I once thought would make me a long slow tortoise, er runner. Turns out that I wrong. Anyway, the past few weeks I have been having a disagreement with my right hip. Honestly we’ve not been on speaking terms unless you count its parts and pieces causing me pain and my foul mouthed response to it – which has mostly been aimed at my hip though people around me may have suffered from collateral damage – sorry. I don’t do well when I have pain that prevents me from running. If I was a horse you might take me out back and shoot me – though I would prefer going the stud route….

My fear today was that my hip would give me some lip and I would end up walking. It behaved and I ran a good race. Managed a 7:54 pace which while not my best, saved me from being shot and my stud fee has increased. All this however was only a fraction of the day. Today was the first official outing of the 2012 Bertollisport Multisport Race Team (BMRT). Eleven ran today and I think those handing out medals are still shaking their heads and wondering who these people are. Seven of the eleven walked away with medals, ranging from 1st in their age group to third. The youngest was Evan, Curt’s 10 year old son who from this day forward will always be “Rocket” to me. He finished first in his age group for the 5 mile with an 8:01 pace. He didn’t look tired coming in the final 50 yards. Sharon and Steve both won their age group but neglected to fill out the bottom of their race bib so there was no official data to cling too. I took home a medal and Steve was in front of me – he more than earned it. Not just for today’s race but for the journey to get here. Iain won his division and I think we’ll see more decoration around his neck as the season continues.

Then there were the girls. Leah, Jessica, and Sharon showed their stuff and walked away with medals – cept for Sharon as you recall the bib incident. These girls are just plain f’ing fast. I love fast girls. No mom, that’s not what I meant…..I saw Helena finish the 5 miles and she looked like she could keep on going. The 2 mile girls ran out to run in with Tara who was cranking out a 5 miler today. I can’t speak for her but in her eyes I saw what she’s made of as she came down the stretch with her friends – that girl will never quit - -anything! Finally there’s Melanie who I’ve seen progress for a few years now. She is in the best shape I’ve seen and today’s race proved that. She’s going to have a great year!

The best thing though was seeing everyone together. Cheering for each other, helping each other, showing true friendship. I’m lucky to be part of this group and I can’t wait for the rest of the gang to race with us. Bertollisport is more than a group of people training together. Its people who care, people who believe in each other, it’s a family. Bertollisport thank you for everything. I’m all in….