Oats burning in Hells Kitchen ...

I cannot believe I have brought myself to the point where I am now giving oats a go. This week I’ve been been treating my palate to a breakfast of warm oatmeal mixed with raisins and nuts to help keep I down.

Prison food ... for worst offenders

I have never tasted anything less suited for the human palate than oatmeal - this gooey, non-crunchy, porridgy, pointless food gets my dander up, and to have to swallow this swill just to drop a few pounds drives me crazy.

The rasins and nuts provide the elements I consider real food while the gooey mass filters in alongside.

Subs loves oatmeal, and this morning at breakfast I was forced to hear her blather on “there’s something warm and comforting about a bowl of oatmeal,” while I glared at her, and gulped down another spoonful. If this doesn’t shed my keelos by the pound, I’m going to be MAD!!

Taking the Plunge

I'd been tracking the registration dates for the SCMM for weeks now, and when the opportunity came I was quick to act. As I filled out the online Registration form, I was more than a little conflicted on whether I'd have a chance in hell of finishing. But i don't want to give it more of a sense of drama than there truly was. I knew I was going to sign up - I had to sign up. I'd spent too much time obsessing over this to back away now.


The form had this unexpected wrinkle, though. It indicated that in the event of over-application, runners would be selected by way of lottery, unless the applicant could provide a time-log of a previous run. Since I've never run this distance, let alone gotten an officially clocked time, it was pretty easy to duck this step and move on. I figured the provision was in as a technicality, and was unlikely to be enforced.

10K on the treadmill

I got to the gym early today, psyched to break the 10K barrier, which has held sway these past 36 years. Early because I didn't want my travails abruptly shortened, by some jaunty up and comer, looking to get his heart rate up, who'd bounce me off the treadmill. Psyched because it felt like today would be the day.

Loosening up, warming up, stretching all went like clockwork. I climbed on, set off at a brisk clip, and before I knew it I was 3k to the good, and "Eye of the Tiger" was keeping rhythm. The next 2ks were a little harder, but no real problems.

At the 5K mark the customary nagging doubts began ... i started to question my ability to go all the way. I began to feel every little tightening of the calf muscles, I sensed twinges of pain in the lower back and my quads hurt like hell. But I pulled through to the 7k mark blocking just counting numbers to keep my mind fom wandering.

Rasta running

At 7k, a new calm came over me, and I began to experience what I had only read about as a "runner's high." While i have no illusions about hitting this high at my pace and only 7ks of distance, I have no other way to explain what I experienced either. While I've read multiple versions of the reason for this experience, from the physiological to the metaphysical none of which make much sense, that it even exists is pretty cool!! From 7k to 11k I ran as though in a trance, and i only stopped because I had to get home ... and for the first time since I kicked off this madness, I STARTED TO BELIEVE!!