We’ve celebrated my triumphs together. Now I ask for your support in my failures. When I was halfway through my 20-mile run tonight I thought about stopping, but onward I pushed, though something told me that I shouldn’t be doing so. My blistered right foot, perhaps. My left groin? My sensibilities? Anyway, I ran on. 11, 12, 13, 14…no mas. It was hot today, and by mile-14 I had already sucked down all of my rations of G2. I thought about how on race day there would be an aid station every few miles, but tonight I had to make it through miles 15, 16, 17, 18, 19 and 20 before I could quench my thirst again. The more I thought about it, the thirstier I got. The temperatures seemed to be rising too, so I stopped. I surveyed the scene and saw a California Tortilla beckoning like a city oasis. I pleaded for water with the cashier and was rewarded with a small plastic cup that I filled again and again from the fountain. I considered running some more, but I decided against it. Maybe a 20-mile run was too ambitious after running 18 last week, so I walked. I made it another mile, and stopped again. A Courtyard by Marriott shined down on me, but the lights in the C and the T were broken. OUR YARD, it read, surely there’s a marketing tag line in there somehow. I digress. I stumbled inside and asked to use their phone. It was a local call, I assured them. I called Jessie to come get me, and down the street she came to save her distressed groom. Failure. In two weeks time, I’ll try again. Thanks for your support.
Running
Sometime on Sunday - exactly one year to the date that I first ran six miles, and suffered a rather unpleasant injury of sorts (http://briansereno.com/?p=1013) - I’ll attempt my first 20-mile run. I would suggest that it’s a) ironic b) poetic c) symmetric or d) symbolic that the combined total of my August 29th runs in 2009 and 2010 equals 26 miles - roughly the distance of what I am training for - but upon further review there really isn’t any irony, poetry, symmetry or symbolism in that fact. More likely, it’s just a coincidence, but one that I have noted anyway. Even if I’m not up for reporting with any great detail how much run goes tomorrow, I’ll certainly be sure to give myself a pass/fail grade. Stand by…
Running
Oftentimes when I run I’ll experience lengthy periods of time in which I seem to be entirely devoid of thought. My iPod plays, my feet move in turn, and I travel forward at a steady pace, but my mind seems to be switched off. Suddenly I’ll snap to awareness, realizing that a considerable amount of time has passed since I last took note of where I was or what I was doing, but then I continue my run hoping to fall back into a similar trance. Currently, my mind is bordering on one of those trances, with few thoughts to speak of. Sometimes I prefer it this way, though I doubt it makes for good reading on this blog. Perhaps I’ll have something to share tomorrow.
Running
After another sensational episode of Jersey Shore tonight, next Thursday can’t come soon enough. However, while I wait, stories like this (http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=5499126) continue to touch me. I hope that even if for one series only, Mets fans will be happy for the individual successes of an opponent.
Other
Two links of note today. This one should amuse you (http://tatewatkins.org/post/988662739/im-working-cheryl), as I certainly got a kick out of it - if only because his dog and my sister share a name. “This is my moment, Cheryl!” Good for the gentleman dancer featured herein. Enjoy your 15 seconds of fame.
On a more somber note, here’s a sad tale that I pray ends well and brings some closure to people that deserve it (http://www.aolnews.com/nation/article/randy-white-fights-to-expose-cancer-cluster-near-frederick-maryland/19588039).
GBM, Other
Before I tell you about all of the celebrations and happenings that occurred this past Sunday, it is germane to revisit my distant past. Rewind back to 1986 or so (the specific date isn’t all that important), when I was a (relatively) good Catholic boy in a household that went to church every Sunday. One Sunday morning my Dad brought me and Cheryl to church, and we arrived early enough to sit in one of the center pews on the main aisle towards the front of the church. Our positioning was important because I had a plan. I was aiming to be the one in the congregation that delivered the communion bread and wine to the priest at the appropriate time during the service. Never before had I done so, and until last Sunday, never since have I had the honor either. Why? Well, 23 years ago during my exchange with the priest, out of excitement or nerves or just plain butter-fingers perhaps, I dropped the communion bread on the floor, scattering the hundreds of small triangular pieces across the alter. I froze. Too scared to cry, sure I was going to straight to hell, I think I blacked out. The next thing I remember I was at a nearby convenience store being consoled with baseball cards, as for the first time in my life one of my misdeeds was truly accidental and I was taking it hard. Somehow I recovered - the resilience of a seven-year-old, I guess - but never again was I brave enough to volunteer to deliver the gifts. Fast forward to the present, and upon entering the church for Natalie’s baptism on Sunday, Cheryl’s husband Phil greeted me with a friendly yet oddly sinister grin. ”You have a chance at redemption,” he said, as he was well aware of my troubled past in the church. ”We have nominated you to bring up the gifts.” Inwardly I cringed, though outwardly I agreed. ”I’m 30,” I reminded myself. ”I can do this.” The time came. Denise and Phil’s brother, Carl, joined me. This walk would be harder than the last time, 23 years ago. Holy Cross in Baltimore kept the bread and wine in the back of the church, unlike Holliston’s St. Mary’s where the gifts were stored up front. Not only would I have to cleanly pass off the precious gifts to the priest, but I would have to make it safely down the aisle as well. Like a running back with two hands on the ball as I warded off defenders, I succeeded. Redemption at last. Picture proof of me at work…
By comparison, the rest of my day on Sunday was easy. Yes, I ran 18-miles, but I was aided by an energy-boosting Cliff Bar at mile 6 and mile 12. When I ran 16 miles a few weeks back, I foolishly thought I could exercise for nearly three hours straight without refueling (runner’s lingo for eating). On Sunday I wasn’t nearly so dumb. I inhaled the first Cliff Bar one-third of the way through, and while the second one didn’t go down as easily at the 2/3 mark, I can’t argue with the results. I had the juice to finish, though not with the finishing kick that I like. Still, 3:10:08 after I started to run, I was home. 18 miles is now in my past too. 20 awaits.
Other, Running
The details that I promised you of my day on Sunday will have to wait until tomorrow, as other thoughts have dominated my mind today. Let it be known that I love my job, and that with each day that passes I become more and more thankful that I am gainfully employed during a time when far too many aren’t nearly as fortunate. I take pride in what I do, and I recognize the role that PR people play in a world of sports that means so much to so many. That said, as you can read for yourself below, there are days like today when it becomes crystal clear that while this funny business of mine can be wonderfully enjoyable, it can also be unfortunately difficult, and tragically painful all at the same time. Best of luck goes to Zack (http://voices.washingtonpost.com/dcsportsbog/2010/08/goodbye_to_zack_bolno_for_now.html#more), to whom I owe so much for teaching me a great deal. Zack is far too talented and respected to be out of work for long, so while my thoughts are with him, my prayers are needed elsewhere. I wish I could find a way to come to terms with this unspeakable tragedy (http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2010/writers/jack_mccallum/08/23/matt.dobek/), but my prayers and condolences are all I can muster. Please keep Matt’s family in your prayers as well as we all struggle to comprehend such heartbreaking circumstances.
Other
Simply said, today lived up to its billing. The baptism was truly memorable. My 18-mile run was, well, long. 3:10:08 after I began, I leaned across the imaginary tape at the finish. Hour by hour accounts of today will follow tomorrow, after I get some needed rest after a long but utterly special day.
Running
Sunday, August 22nd will surely be a day to remember for two reasons that I can currently think of - one of infinitely greater significance than the other. While I’ll personally tackle an 18-mile run tomorrow night, armed with a pair of Cliff Bars and G2s (Gatorade’s low(er) sugar option), what will transpire tomorrow morning in Baltimore is the real reason that tomorrow will be such a memorable day. At 9:00 am on Sunday morning, my four-months and seven days old niece, Natalie Maria, will be baptized in Charm City. Pictures will be taken by the hundreds, and hugs shared by the dozens, with oohs and ahhs exclaimed across the city. I’ll then hope to finish the day as I’ll start it - rejoicing with a smile ear to ear.
Other
Tomorrow morning we’ll make the (hopefully) short drive back to Alexandria from Virginia Beach, VA. The trip here lasted well over seven hours. We’ll aim to make the journey back in half that time. Either way, our vacation is nearly over. This weekend I’ll make my first attempt at an 18-mile run. On Monday I’ll turn my brain back on. It’s true what they say, all good things must come to an end. Goodbye Virginia Beach.
Other