Words

Not sure if it is hurricane derived, but things have cooled off in the last couple weeks to highs around 80 to 85 degrees.  That, plus the mental comforts of taking home an actual paycheck for the first time in 2 years, mean that I actually sleep these days.  Quite remarkable for the last two weeks of August.  Usually, my morning summer runs leave me like this:

And that is after I "cooled down" for 10 minutes.  I do not miss those days.  Even Merus has had better long term recovery from her extractions now that the temperature is tolerable.  *Knock on wood* that moderation persists.

Meanwhile work leaves me ready for bed at 9pm but is grand.  It is an incredibly supportive environment to apply yourself, to learn from everyone around you, and to put all the pieces together in ways that they had not yet as a student.  My documentation and recommendations affect whether a person gets to go home or qualifies for rehab upon discharge.  Whether I talk to the doctors and residents themselves or they rely on my notes, the abilities and participation of patients in my sessions are cross cited in MD notes and affect changes their medical course.  Pretty cool stuff.  I remember 3, 4, 5 years ago teaching a group yoga class and thinking of just how much I could create change in people and yet how transient or, in many cases, how socioeconomics determined who I would impact.  I sought greater implications, applied to those who actually needed it versus a) those who knew of and decided to take yoga, and b) those who could financially afford to do so.  It is wonderful to find recourse so quickly within my just-budding career. 

And, while I knew word choice was important in connecting with patients, I see more and more every day just how much of a difference words mean.  How you encourage, how you agree/disagree, how you redirect, how you explain why, how you ask someone to move....  Word choice has incredible implications.  It is much, much more than simple having good rapport with patients.  The difference can be quite subtle and yet dramatic in their effect.  It is something I brought with me from yoga.  It is something I personally work on every day.  It is something which SO needs to be its own class in school for medical professionals.  Fits right in with psychosocial needs in a much more poignant manner than simply acknowledging cultural differences. 

Knee plank skids and side sit crashes

The combination of a post-boards/pre-work idle life and summer heat have meant many moments, or more correctly many minutes and hours, of a blank mind.  It has even infiltrated my running.  Sunday's long run on the Long Path had two stumbles recovered with high-stepping and bilateral arm windmilling, but it also had one actual fall where I landed in a knee plank skid.  Infrapatellar fat pads have been a little whiny since then, which is to be expected for old lady knees.  (Work them hard under their own volition, including steep hills and "fast" *cough* interval runs, and they are fine; but give them a tiny bit of external perturbation like a fall or special tests and they'll flare up).  Usually when I fall, it means I'm either lacking enough energy/electrolytes or my brain is not paying attention.  In this case, it was the latter.  Pick up yer damn feet, lady.

Today I went for some hill repeats in the rain on the closer of my two usual hills.  No traffic had been coming from the left when I last looked, but when I looked again the last traffic light had just turned green.  I had plenty of time to cross anyways, but decided to wait in light of the rain.  Halfway through my about-face I realized my left foot was not so firmly planted on a wide white stripe of road paint.  Meaning, I realized such because I was falling.  On the way down I prodded myself, Barely ten minutes into the run, and you haven't even gotten to the hill yet.  Good one.  I landed in semi-side sit, connecting with my right hand and the outside of my right knee. 

Luckily I had plenty of time to recover and get out of traffic's way.  The drivers undoubtedly saw the whole thing.  How could you miss someone in a bright, construction site orange shirt when they randomly go from on to off their feet without any obvious cause?  I had to constantly remind myself to focus on form, especially on descents.  This Sunday is the Escarpment Trail Run, a 30k (~18 mile) point-to-point race in the Catskills that includes nearly 10,000 ft of cumulative elevation gain.  For perspective's sake, both the Traprock 50k (~32 mile) and Bear Mtn 50 mile races were somewhere closer to 7000 ft of elevation gain.  There are many points of going hand over foot or sliding down via your bum.  Luckily the novelty of new races in new locations tends to keep me focused on the task.  Gonna be popping a lot of salt pills to make sure I'm mentally in tact - pretty sure it'll take me something like four and a half hours for the 18 miles. 

Side note: the Reese's phase continues, albeit morphed.  Because I had the ingredients at home, suddenly there was pseudo-Reese's to fulfill the craving.

Ridiculous?  Yes, and unapologetically so.

Twiddling thumbs

With the boards exam completed and in the bag, but work not starting until later this month (possibly early August, tbd), I have ample time to... well... I'm trying to figure that one out.  It has become a rather simple life of twiddling my thumbs.  I guess I've gotten used to having something to do with all my time. 

I'd clean one little area, feel like I have momentum for the whole room, then suddenly wake up at my computer following race updates from the Hardrock 100 in the San Juan Mountains of CO.  (Side note: The winner finished in just under 25 hours.  Yes, 100 miles with 30,000 feet of cumulative elevation gain and thus 25 hours makes an elite -- elites race at an average 4mph.  As I write this, more than half the entrants are still on course and working hard to beat the 48 hour finish cutoff.)   

Yesterday I baked some muffins (2 parts whole wheat, 1 part coconut flour, 1 part flax meal).  I eat them two at a time.

I also did a true core workout for the first time since January.  Couldn't think of an errand that could be used to get in my walk for the day, so walked Nathan down to Columbus Circle, sent him on a train the rest of the way to work, and walked back to our local grocery store.  

I pulled a thigh high stack of textbooks off my shelf with the intention of selling them, maybe using Amazon's "trade in" program.  I also pulled a knee high stack of notes to recycle.  My filing cabinet just found an entire drawer's worth of space.

I want to see Moonrise Kingdom, the latest Wes Anderson movie, but have to strategize for a day when I feel like seeing a movie before 10am, since that is apparently what now qualifies as a matinee in NYC.  (Insert muttering.)

I've also had more time to hang with the worms.  Merus is showing her goofiness all over the place these days, as evidenced by her cyclic relationship with Nathan's travel bag spanning yesterday and today.  In order of occurrence:

Some day, when I am with paycheck and with access, I will have more pictures of lush greenery and blue sky and muddy feet/legs.  For now, the worms will have to do.  Urban outings just don't look appealing when the air quality haze is practically visible over the miserable city.  Don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to September....

Ice spike!

I normally don't drink iced coffee unless in something close to a heat wave.  We've had a lot of those lately.  Nathan's four little ice cube trays have seen more use in the last month than they ever have before.  In that time I have found an average of one ice spike per week.  It's such a random phenomenon that I get really excited about it.  I saw the first ice spike in summer of 2006, perhaps one or two since then.  So to have this many popping up in a row is totally awesome.  I had another one this morning:

Conversely, in winter I get super excited to show off the ice on my literally frozen ponytail after coming in from a run.  Nathan has learned respond to each situation with "That's cool" and a pat on the head.  He used to respond with "Okay...?" only to get my wide-eyed-speed-talk "Butit'ssoCOOLit'slikeanEXPLOSIONinyourfreezerbutcontainedtoanICECUBE!" 

Nerd.  Yes.  Proudly so.  Don't even need to carry a card because its so evident.  Put me in a social situation like a party and I clam up like you wouldn't believe.  Give me ice spikes in my freezer and I'm bouncing off the walls in excitement. 

I always hopied it was a more ballistic occurrence, where the still-liquid but expanding inner portion of the ice breaks through the frozen surface like a rocket.  Turns out its a much calmer process.  The surface ice forms from the perimeter towards the center.  The inner, still-liquid portion gets forced through a small remaining hole, though slowly.  Instead of running down the sides of the ice cube it freezes on the perimeter of the hole and produces a tube.  It continues to grow until the tube freezes over. 

Apparently this mostly works with distilled water, since usually the particulate present in tap water is enough to sustain the surface shape and disallow the expansion of a tube.  But lo!  For whatever reason, our tap water and freezer temperature and ice cube tray size is perfect to grow a little stalagmite once a week.  Hazzah!

For those of you who are not blatant nerds but do like silly cats, here are the worms as they tolerate the heat:

Merus, whose nickname has recently progressed to Ru Bear.  (This is always followed with a ba-dum-dum in my head, as a pun for rubor (latin for redness, used as a descriptor for inflammation.  Yes, I am easily entertained.)

Sadie.

For the record, the drawer was pushed back about 4 inches and Merus went in on her own.

 

On a side note, this is how Nathan usually sleeps.  "Why does my neck hurt?"  Hmmm...

Merus could teach Olympic divers a thing or two about their tuck. 

Auburn

After Monday's exam (of which my mind has almost wholly erased from memory thanks to directly related post traumatic stress -- don't ask...) I was grateful to have a bus ticket out of town for 7:30 a.m. the next morning.

Hello, Auburn, NY!

My visit was filled with lush green country views, home-picked and homemade wild blackberry pie, a dozen (or possibly more) cats who each have a distinct personality and a variety of indoor/outdoor habits, a giant fruit salad that lasted days (at times with ice cream), reading for fun (!!) and, most importantly, meeting and getting to know the lovely and hilarious May, Nathan's mama.  Her dry, sarcastic sense of humor had me in stitches the entire trip.

Her cats also had me in stitches.  Like Binky, who has a version of the feline virus that Sadie and Merus have.  But instead of eye drainage, Binky has full-on sinus congestion complete with wheezing, massive sneezes in 10+ quick consecutive reps (head tipped back with nose pointing up the entire time), and frequent goobers hanging off his nose and/or chin.  He also has incredible comedic timing and is a total goofball.  Call his name and he'd stop and stare at you with his mouth slightly open.  I wish this video could at least have caught the wheezing...

We ran the Cazenovia July 4th Foot Races, specifically the 10 mile race around Cazenovia lake.  The entire event was incredibly well organized, the perfect blend of a relaxed vibe but seriously respecting the parameters of the race.  I wish more races were like this one.

I saw two triathlete looking women at the start whose pace I liked.  If I kept them in sight throughout the race then I'd be happy with my results.  One had trouble breathing in the heat.  I managed to stay within 30 seconds of the other woman, who was continually cheered by name by all the spectators as we looped around the lake.  What was raucous cheering for her turned into a few pity claps for me.  Actually, to be fair, I got a handful of claps and high fives along the way (especially from a few women cheering a fellow woman -- hazzah!), but once we neared the last mile I was able to close the distance.  I credit lots of task-specific downhill training.  Turn the tables into arm wrestling or a pushup contest -- not to mention a swim or a time trial bike --  and I'd get beat to a pulp.

Anyways, Marybeth was obviously a beloved hometown hero.  The locals didn't know what to make out of me.  I chatted as I passed, giving her major props for her history of Iron Man races.  As I neared the finish I found it odd that very few people were cheering us on.  Maybe the leaders were so long ago that everyone is already over it?  Just before turning the last corner I heard a guy yell "First woman!"  Say WHAAAAT?!?  Turns out Marybeth had been lead woman until I passed her.  I had absolutely no idea.  I hadn't even intended to go for the kill -- I just figured that getting a negative split (second half faster than the first half) would feel satisfying on a day with such heat and sun.  Got my name in a local paper and everything.  Full results here.  Nathan also managed to go sub-8-minute mile without any training... as usual....

Also found out that Marybeth, at 42 years old, is good enough at Iron Man triathlons to qualify for Kona.  Meaning, she's good.  She is now on my list of personal heros.  Like I said, my win was probably more circumstantial luck than anything else.  But it does make it feel like more of an actual win, considering who I had to track down and pass. 

What really excited me on the way home was that the race was a great excuse to have more pie for lunch.  For dinner we made mashed kale and avocado salad to go with May's bbq pork chops, followed by the fruit salad of perfection and ice cream.  I was in bed pretty early that night.

The next day Nathan and I toured the home and museum of William Seward, former senator and governor of New York as well as the Lincoln's secretary of state.  We walked around the small downtown area and had lunch from Wegmans, the wannabe Whole Foods of local renown.  That evening we saw the Auburn Doubledays' (single A short season) demoralize the Lowell Spinners by 10-1.  They were super close to getting a no-hitter too.  But then in the 8th inning the drunk guy sitting next to Nathan blurted out loud that the Spinners had no hits.  Nathan was pissed, saying baseball superstition over something like that is legit enough that you just don't say it out loud.  Ever.  I shrugged it off.  Not even one minute later and the Spinners had their first actual hit of the game.  Nathan: "SEE??"  Lesson learned, y'all.

A random tree outside of the Doubledays stadium:

My last day was a sweaty easy run in the morning followed by taping up dozens of small window panes in prep for painting.  One of May's many volunteer efforts is to help renovate the Kase Mansion, former home of the man who invented the talking movie that is now owned by the neighboring church, into a home for veterans.  Her portion is one of the many bedrooms.  The bay window looked like stained glass a la newspaper.

Then it was a drive to Syracuse, lunch at a local diner, and the bus ride back to NYC.  I was very sad to leave.  The only thing that kept me from getting angry at everyone while negotiating Port Authority and the subways home was the thought of my two kittehs eagerly awaiting my arrival.  I was welcomed home with meowing that continued for hours after feeding and triple-digit heat.  Sad to be back in the city, but grateful for the mental relief of time away.

Hot again

NYC got up to 98 today.  Not as bad as I expected.  Changing clothes and showering two to three times as much, but do-able.  Especially when you look at what the rest of the country has had the last few days.

This morning when I left for another day fraught with banging my head against various study materials I found Merus tucked inside a litter box.  Luckily this was the clean, unused box.  

11:30 a.m.  'Sup, human.

Later, after four hours of swearing, flailing arms, growling and head thumping (read: studying) amongst the babies and crazies at Whole Foods, I came home to find her still content within the pine nubbins. 

4:00 p.m.  Still there.

Whatever works, I suppose.

Tune-Up 18 Miler race report, and a failed cannonball

One week ago was the ING Marathon Tune-Up race.  Three laps around Central Park's main loop.  Stats:  2:17:42, avg 7:39 per mile, 22nd female (of 1800), 199th overall (of 3800).  Very happy with my outcome.  'Twas 71 degrees and huuuuumid.  I ditched my shirt after the first two miles, and even with it tucked into the back of my waist I had to wring it out twice mid-race and once after.  And yet, such an amazing different from a 90 degree August day in the midwest....

This race was meant to gauge my running amongst the masses.  Last time I did so was last March in the 1/2 marathon.  Since then, my two main races have been ultra marathons with much smaller fields (200 entrants tops) that are also much shallower in ability, meaning few (if any) elites and mostly common runners.  So, running a 10k loop in Central Park squeezed in amongst 3800 others definitely bumps it up a notch.

I managed to keep my head in the race and not freak out in the crowd, to maintain my intended race pace and keep it consistent, so keep my stomach calm and maintain hydration using the race's water stations placed at each mile (rather than carry my own bottle the whole time), to let others pass me without getting swept into their wake, and during the last 3 miles catch many of those who had initially passed me since I didn't bonk from poor planning.  Success!  I also thought I'd end up with a time something like 2:45:00.  I hadn't specified what pace I would run, only that it would be sustainable.  Finishing that much faster was a pleasant surprise.

The third lap was kind of crazy, since that's when the back half (slower half) of the race is getting lapped.  These runners are out there for very good reasons - to have fun, to run with a friend, to enjoy the day.  They want to finish, and are not concerned by things like time.  So they run in pairs or at times in four-across, they run in whichever land they wish, they stop in the middle to take pictures.  Me?  I was on a mission, like usual.  My own mission, mind you, but nevertheless a mission.  But not only me.  You can include the first three corrals of runners in that mission too.  The three lanes allocated to the race became a gigantic game of Frogger, but with hundreds of frogs at once.  (At least this version has everyone traveling in the same direction rather than perpendicular....)  I kept needing to apologize to both the second lappers and my fellow third lappers -- I will still say "excuse me" or "sorry, passing through" even when everyone knows there's a race happening, but I also would nearly elbow those simultaneously passing if I needed to change direction quickly to avoid, say, one of the picture takers.

But, I should also add to the list of accomplishments that I avoided getting passed by the elite male finisher by a measly but valid 4 minutes 43 seconds.  Since the race was a 6-ish mile loop, the start also served as the landmark for mile 6, mile 12 and the finish.  I passed the 12 mile marker at 1:33:00, and the elite male winner finished in 1:37:43.  Hah!

After turning off the main loop, with the finish about 20 feet away.  I've managed to improve my race-camera face from painful grimace and/or sneer to awkward semi-smile semi-fatigue.  Not that its important, but anyone looking at visual proof of my runs will see demonstrably comical faces.  Photo courtesy of Brightroom (event photography for NYRR).

After the race I walked the 3 miles home in hopes of working out the kinks from my legs.  Going up the Amsterdam hill was a much greater task than expected.  There was a decent amount of moaning to help with the trudge, and more moaning while ascending the 5 flights to the apartment (yay, 6th floor walk-ups!).  Nathan was kind to oblige with my offer of making dinner so long as he went out for the groceries.

This morning's run was just over 2 hours but at whatever pace my legs wanted.  I've recovered a decent amount from last week, though some kinks linger.  In my weekly alternation between trail and road, it was another day on the Long Path.  Rained yesterday, so lots of mud and a few downed small trees.  Days like today have nothing heroic about the effort, so I take my time going over obstacles.  No reason to twerk one of the Old Ladies (translation: knees) for the sake of pushing things harder than necessary.

With this easy attitude also came a bit of uncoordination.  Getting over/around obstacles was more like a slip-sliding slapstick dance.  I thought of Donald O'Connor a few times.  Somewhat glad no one was there to witness, though would have made for an absolutely hysterical reenactment.

I did take one fall this week.  A seemingly benign 2-inch diameter branch that is easily stepped over without lifting your leg much became, apparently, not so easy to surmount.  Historically, my left foot/leg trips.  If I fall forward, I go into a plank.  That was two weeks ago - a near face plant saved by a superman plank (think of the top of a push up, but then walk your hands forward a few hand lengths), no joints hitting and no strawberries on my palms.  If I get caught on something, I inevitably fall into a dancer-slide on my right side.  That was the scene today.

But there's more - add a failure of a cannonball.  Left food catches, both knees instinctively pull up towards my chest to clear the object, right foot hooks behind my left calf (how am I always SO good at tripping over myself?), the not-quite-there cannonball turns so that I land on my right side in a cross between a thunk and a squish on a wet grassy area ahead of a water and rock pool.  I can hear my mother now: "That's my daughter, sigh."  My knees were covered in mud, though I think my clothes avoided most of it.  I rinsed my knees and shins off with the convenient pool of water, fixed my hat, and went off on my merry way again.  Guess you could say I'm getting used to all this falling.  Maybe I should have been a stunt woman?

The remnants.  Only small scratches on my knees and mud on the backs of my legs to show for my top-of-the-graceful-list fall.  I laugh at the thought of being in open toed sandals for Sam & Kristin's wedding next weekend.

To top it all off, I saw a family? gaggle? den? of three wild turkeys on both the way out and the way back.  

A parting thought, for those interested.  The women's marathon world record will change come January 1, 2012 thanks to a new rule regulating the women's end of the sport.  Not only does this change requirements for future races, which I understand and support, but it retroactively removes records placed under current and past requirements, which I adamantly consider to be bulls***.  It all has to do with the presence of male pacers within the women's field and/or co-ed races.

Current WR is Paula Radcliffe of England at 2:15:25.  With the changes, this becomes a "world's best" while her next fastest time of 2:17:42 becomes the "world record."  The former had male pacers, though to Radcliffe's credit she did not draft them or hang on their wing, and the latter was run in an all female race.

Not known yet is if it will affect current American Record holder Deena Kastor, who ran 2:19:36 in the 2003 London Marathon.  Kastor was the first to break the American record since set in 1985 at 2:21:21 by Joan Benoit Samuelson.  She has posted a second time faster than Samuelson's as well.  But, the London Marathon historically has placed male paces amongst the female contenders.  Radcliffe's current-though-soon-won't-be WR was also run in London.  I'm not sure where Kastor's second fastest time was run, but I believe it was also with male pacers in the race.  So depending on how militant and thorough the IAAF is with official records, the American record could return back to the former 1985 time.

I remember a buzz some 5 or 10 years ago occurring around a different female runner's potential WR at the Berlin Marathon, though it was questioned immediately because she ran sheltered from the wind behind a triangle of five men.  THAT was a questionable performance.  But it was quickly beat by Radcliffe's as-yet WR where she did not run in anyone's draft, regardless of male or female.   Fine to make stipulations for future races.  Not so fine to remove validation of previously run times that operated within the set standards of their era. 

KC 50k race report part II: the photos

Realized I never posted the rest of the photos from August's race.  They are a mix of photos from race photographers who keep clicking so long as they see a bib number in front of them and also from my Dad's phone.  You can see the progression from 6am dark to 11am sun, fresh race clothes to sweat patterns to fully saturated, calm stride to make-it-work-and-not-be-painful-slog, calm face to oh-thank-goodness-it's-over relief.

6am start.

Rounding the first corner (50 feet into the race).

Ran the first few miles with this guy.  We both started out ahead of our desired pace.  He managed to hold his pace better through the end.

It's always fun to move between inadvertent running partners in long races.

Miss Blue went on to take 1st woman.  Obviously I started too fast if I was in range of her for the first 6 miles....

Somewhere around mile 15, where I didn't see any other runners for 30+ minute stretches.  Thankfully the course was well marked with officials at various corners, or else I'd have thought I were running off through Kansas somewhere.

At the bottom of Hospital Hill.  I didn't study the route that much, so didn't know it was coming (or that it had such a known name until talking to folks after the race).  This was at mile 28.  The moment I rounded the corner I immediately started walking.  One mile at an average 10% grade.  Um, yeaaah.  No way I was running that one.

The one photo that managed to catch my bloated belly.  Increasing temps nearing (or into) the 90s, only GU electrolyte products, no food, a monthly cycle due at any time (sorry fellas, its a regular issue for female racers)... not a good mix on for the belly.

Still trudging up Hospital Hill.  This was moments before my Dad called out "It's all downhill from here!"  Ears too saturated to hear the comment, thankfully.

Is that a smile with only a couple miles to go?  I forget if I was trying to look calmer than I felt.  P.S. That seemingly bulging vastus medialis of my left quadriceps?  Swollen and overworked, nothing else.  I also credit side lighting. 

Now that is a smile.  Specifically "Oooohhhh thank you thank you thank you" before madly searching for oranges and watermelon.

Yup, sums up how I felt at that point.  Glad. To. Be. DONE.

Dunno what's going on here.  Some sort of post-race stumble that wasn't nearly as coordinated as this makes it seem.  Maybe it took me 20 feet to actually stop?  I'd believe that, since my quads were refusing eccentric work by then.

Packing, unpacking, then packing again.

Lots going on since I last posted, namely moving a mile north into West Harlem/Hamilton Heights and trying not to screw up my back a week before the TNF Kansas City 50k.  I spent the better part of the last two weeks prepping for the move.  I'm used to moving semi-frequently what with rent prices changing, roommates changing, etc, and I enjoy the opportunity to purge more than I normally would and to reassess where life has taken me.  However, I must say that this move ended up being the most stressful due to the need to prep two apartments.  The roommates were a non-issue in terms of stress, thankfully, and it was mainly arranging items.  Usually I purge to simplify, pack it all away and head on out.  This time I needed to prevent redundancy of items (printer, kitchen stuff, etc), establish bicycle storage, and help figure out how to hide items such as newspapers from the 1860s so that the cats would not claw them in ritualistic paper sacrifice or get cat hair on them (which can damage them in the long run).

The other headache is that the new apartment is the 6th floor of a pre-war walk up building.  My old apartment is also on the 6th floor, and I usually took the stairs unless loaded down with a backpack and two canvas bags stuffed with groceries and cat food.  I've only used Craigslist movers before, and that was my budget for this year too.  I planned to help, as I always do, particularly getting things up the 5 flights.  But, since I was honest about the walk up situation from the get go, none of the Craigslisted movers returned my call or email.  I had to fall back on actual movers.  Made the process super smooth, though cost a little more than I had hoped.  At least nothing is broken and the process is done.

The Great Move was carried out Saturday morning.  The mega-prep was Friday.  The new apt is actually closer to 1.2 miles north.  I wanted to get the cats, bikes and my computer up there the day before -- items I'd rather not leave to the will of movers, even if packed well.  I also had a third load to take to Salvation Army, and there were a handful of objects such as old wooden two drawer filing cabinet that needed to be placed with the garbage outside the building at the new place.  The day went like this: walk from new apt to old apt, finish packing a few items, walk load to Salvation Army, walk home, walk cat prep items (litter box, food bowls) and computer to new apt, take out 2-3 loads of garbage, walk home, ride bike #1 to new apt, walk home, ride bike #2 to new apt, walk home, pack up kitties and take subway to new apt, lay on floor so the stress in my back could go away.

By my counts I walked 7.5-8 miles and ascended 55 flights of stairs (11 sets of 5 flights each), half the time carrying crap.  Saturday morning I woke up with sore biceps and semi-tired legs.  But, again, the move is done.  Thankfully.  And the kittehs acclimated uber fast, despite the trauma of a ride in cat carriers.

Latest antic by Sadie: while Nathan and I were in the other room, she snagged the remainder of a calzone off the table and lugged it 6 feet away without any evidence of dragging it.  She and Merus love love love cheese.  She was happily trying to decide between licking or nibbling at the melted mozzarella when we found her.  She's a very small kitteh, and the remaining calzone was nearly the size of my fist.  Can't wait to find out what she'll catch and bring for display once she becomes a mountain kitteh....

In other news, I got an email from TNF regarding the upcoming race.  It is a long-ish email discussing weather.  Apparently, when TNF decided on the date and location of the race they never considered what August means in Missouri, or even what summer means in Missouri.  The email included this:

Alert Level	Temperature Range	Conditions	Recommended Actions	Rules in Affect
Low	Below 80 degrees	Good	Enjoy the event!	n/a
Moderate	80 - 88 degrees	Less than ideal	Slow down. Be alert for course changes.	Hydration system required.
High	89 - 95 degrees	Potentially dangerous	Slow down, consider stopping. Be alert for course changes.	Hydration system required.
Extreme	Above 95 degrees	Extreme and dangerous.	Event cancelled.	Athletes required to stop.

The first thing I saw was the "rules in affect."  Hydration systems, be they a bottle or hydration pack or whatever, are required if the temperature gets at or above 80 degrees.  I planned to use one the whole time, with the attempt to get in 3/4 to a full bottle of GU Brew (electrolyte drink stuff) per hour.  That's what I always do on my long runs, regardless of summer or winter conditions.  Relying on aid stations that are spaced an average 2 miles apart means I'd have anywhere from 16 to 20 minutes between fluid intakes, more if I needed to walk any sections.

Then I saw "athletes required to stop" should the temperature raise above 95 degrees.  Hey TNF, did you notice that you chose a date at the end of summer, meaning that we've all had July's heat wave to acclimate?  For those who may not remember, the Chicago Marathon had a peculiar heat wave a few Octobers ago, with temperatures just shy of 100.  I'd say that's different -- average daily high for early October is 65-70 degrees, so a heat wave is much more of a jolt.  Even still, the Chicago Marathon removed the competition and stated it was then a fun run, encouraging people to take it easy.  Notice how they didn't simply cancel the event.  Average highs for late August in KC are about 86.  Should KC reach 95 on race day then this would merely match the preceding month and a half.  Meaning, it should be expected.  That's what happens when you schedule a race in the midwest for the middle of August.  If you think its un-runable, then you should have thought about that before creating the race in the first place.  The Badwater Ultramarathon, 135 miles long, runs through Death Valley during the summer.  Temperatures vary from 40 degrees to potentially 130 degrees throughout the race.  You may have to run on the white paint to avoid melting your shoes.  But considering that those are the expected possibilities of the selected course, the race is never cancelled.  Granted I am a native of MO and know what lovely heat and humidity are possible, but you'd think the race directors and other runners would also have considered such things.

Please understand that I'm not arguing any of this to diminish the difficulty of running in the heat.  Since signing up for the race, I have considered this race to be between nothing more than me versus summer weather.  It is not going to be a fast race, and those attempting heroic finishes need to have trained accordingly.  I signed up for the race, I take responsibility for choosing a potentially hot race, I have trained in the heat (lately have been wearing long pants and shirts to keep up my head tolerance even as New York's heat has eased), and I'm going to be ridiculously pissed off if I'm forced to stop mid-race.  Liability can be an annoying hurdle.  Luckily the highest I've seen predicted for this Saturday is 90, which won't even hit til midafternoon.  Should all go according to plan then I'll be done around 11am-12pm.

Now to go find the sunscreen that actually stays on when I sweat.  It ends up hovering in a re-fluidized state atop a layer of sweat, but it stays in place and does its job so long as I don't try to rub it in with the sweat.  Many other errands to follow too.  Kansas City tomorrow!  Will get to see family and a few friends from back in the day.  Hot spit!  At least this time packing will be a small operation.

104. Degrees, that is.

Hot.  Very Hot.

Waking at 5:00 a.m. to a red-orange sun hiding behind a gray particulate haze and undulating, cement-manifested heat waves is never a good sign.  Especially when you do not live with an air conditioner. 

Most patients squeezed themselves into the clinic's Thursday schedule in attempt to avoid going outside in >100 degree heat.  That meant Thursday had 14 patients on schedule.  Friday had 9 patients, only 5 of which showed.  By noon it was 102.  All but one patient of mine came in the morning, so I had a break from 12:30 until 3:00 p.m.  Despite the heat, I wanted better food options than those offered by nearby delis and decided to traverse the sixth of a mile to Whole Foods.  The so called "air" was more of a translucent viscous molasses.  Didn't affect me too bad on the way out, though it hit hard by the return trip despite moving slow, having all pants legs and sleeves rolled up and sticking to as many shadows as I could.  At least some good pineapple was wrought from my efforts.

By 3:00 p.m., when my only afternoon patient arrived, it was 104.  This was Ms. C, the bariatric patient I previously described.  She had 15 minutes to cool down and settle before we began, but to no avail.  Two feet from the wheelchair and we were worried about a cardiac event.  She declined the wheelchair, opting to maneuver the remaining 3 steps to sit on the high-low mat.  Pulse-ox was down to 92%, heart rate in the 130s.  Took a couple minutes, but her vitals normalized and we got her some water.  She is already asthmatic (as well as many other things prone to bariatric patients), and the air quality had zapped her.  From then on we only stood for a couple minutes at a time and shifted weight slowly between each foot.  The Dominican and Puerto Rican patients we saw in the morning laughed at the heat, but they did admit that the air quality and humidity were somewhat more than they were used to.

I didn't have the stomach for hardly any food unless it was watermelon, pineapple, grapes, or something equally as fluid filled.  My consumption for the day included: small iced coffee chased by 2 glasses of water, 1 liter orange flavored seltzer, 1 liter of gatorade spread out into 3 liters of gatorade/water mix, pint of fresh pineapple, 5 pounds of watermelon (weight before eating and thus including the rind), 12 ounce can of Sanpelligrino limonata, and another 1 liter of water.  Other food: cranberry orange scone, 1/2 cinnamon raisin bagel with ~Tbsp of peanut butter and salt, 1/8 pound deli turkey meat rolled with 2 ounces of cheese.  C'est tout.  The cheese -- which had been refrigerated, mind you -- started sweated after 2 minutes and melting after 5 minutes exposure to the air.  I've taken to 10 minute showers as cold as I can stand immediately before leaving the apartment and, more importantly, immediately before going to bed.  I barely towel off and keep the fan blasting on me. 

The kittehs are dealing somewhat better than I expected, taking shelter on the bathroom floor and a few other "cooler" locations.  Every so often they reappear, mouths agape and panting fast.  I rub them down with ice cubes until they can't stand it, leave them with a look reminiscent of junior high boys who care about their hair for the first time and use too much gel to make it spikey with day-long endurance.  Sadie tolerated the ice pack for ten minutes (see above), Merus for a mere two.

The online course of Clinical Decision Making is finally over as of yesterday, which means I no longer have mindless work to complete over the weekend.  Today was my regular teaching appointment in Queens, followed by laundry, cleaning, and more leisurely planning of upcoming patient treatments/patient related research.  Weird to think that I am still a student, my "job" is actually an internship with only two weeks remaining, and that classes will start up in a mere five weeks.  What to do with myself?  De-stressing for the first time since January will be key.  But let's take this one weekend at a time.

Many New Yorkers are at a beach or will be heading there tomorrow.  I cannot handle public beaches when in season.  Too many people.  Too much trash that ends up floating in the water with you.  Occasionally you see human deposits floating in the water as well.  Makes me think there's much more in there than is obvious.  Eeeeeew....  There was also a four alarm fire on Wednesday at a sanitation plant off the Hudson River around 135th street, and in shutting things down to control the fire a not insignificant amount of unprocessed sewage was released into the river.  The Hudson, Harlem and East River all have warnings against swimming, kayaking or any other water activity until further notice.  A few beaches downstream received "recommendations" to not go in the water though officials stated it is not a mandate.  But the fire did not make any headline, even small, on the NYTimes website.  I heard about the fire and resultant water contamination through WNYC (local NPR station), but I have not seen it anywhere else, which is kind of creepy.

Instead of beaches I had been planning for the last two or three weeks to finally head up to the Hudson Highlands or Harriman State Park for my Sunday long run.  Tomorrow should only be 93 degrees or so, but once out of the urban heat island (what many refer to as a "heat dome") and into the forest such summer weather is remarkably more tolerable.  I need genuine climbs and descents (from 500 to 1200 feet above sea level), I need to be away from pavement and city smog, I need terrain that challenges you in a way that removes expectations other than to merely keep moving forward.  A dip in one of the lakes might be nice, depending on where I go.  Planning to use a hydration pack as well as a handheld water bottle, the electrolyte drink that actually works (rather than the used during the July 4th mess of a "race"), lots of goo and a couple of bars, bug spray, and a camera for show and tell.  Even just thinking about it now makes me happy.

Skin, and mocking Mango

Currently icing my legs on the couch watching the Women's World Cup final between US and Japan.  Let's hope the second half converts during the second half.

The elevator operator at work has nicknamed me The Gatorade Girl.  As part of my project hydration I will half it with water and attempt to consume 2 liters of the mix by lunch.  It was a somewhat stressful week.  Monday I presented an in-service on pathological tone for the purpose of educating the PT aides but with everyone from the therapy team in the audience.  Wednesday the professor who coordinates our affiliations (and is totally craaaazyyyy...) came for a site visit and unexpectedly threw in a hasty and confusing conversation regarding my last two affiliations, followed by a schedule of 14 patients while under supervision of the other PT since my instructor had a long and important appointment elsewhere.  Thursday and Friday were less intense, but by then I had a hard time getting enough sleep to make up the difference.  Finally got a little rest on Saturday. 

Today I felt good and decided to go long.  Over the GWB to the Long Path again, 3:11:23, just under 21 miles.  I meant to take my camera and take some shots to show-and-tell.  Got so caught up in food and water that I forgot.  Crappers.  Oh well, next time.  I used the hydration pack that was my prize from Bear Mountain, and it is a surprisingly nice piece.  It has a rudimentary waist strap that I don't need to use so there's nothing pressing on my stomach or cutting off my breathing, as happens with other hydration packs.  That's why I usually opt to carry a bottle for any distance, but there's only one option for refilling along the way (a gas station 5.5-6 miles from home) and I anticipated needing a lot of fluid.  Went through 1.5 liters of Gu Brew and 1 liter of a lemonade/water mix from the gas station.  Had to walk for two 5 minute periods, once because my abdominal muscles almost held onto a cramp and another after filling up at the gas station since I had just stopped sweating and knew I needed lots of intake without jarring my stomach.  Both walking stints were successful.  By 10 minutes into my cool-down half hour walk I was out of fluid again, but I'd ingested enough that it wasn't a worry.

It's never until the post-run shower that you discover what new areas of chafing occurred.  All the areas I slathered with Aquafore (armpits, inner thigh crease, where my sports bra meets my lower sternum) came out unscathed.  This time my sports bra decided to eat at my back, beneath one side of the T-strap and beneath the chest strap longitudinally.  May have been due to the hydration pack, though with that amount of time on the trail one can never really know.  But once the stream of water hits the rough patch, sonofabitch!  I took a picture so I could see the whole thing better, and while there's nothing inappropriately shot that would contraindicate my posting it here it just simply too gross from all the secondary pimples and such.  I think the camera viewer adds more color to highlight the red spots than is actually there, but ew.  Made me cringe.  School stress has shifted breakout locations depending on the time frame.  First the face and back of the neck.  Then last fall on the underside of my chin and across my deltoids (atop my shoulders and the start of my arms).  This summer it has been my back, particularly atop each of each shoulder blade and at the bra line.  Accentuated by the running and heat, I suppose.  Another bit of loveliness to add to the list.

Instead I will display Sadie's recent attempts to mock my schoolmate Katarina's cat Mango.  She got Mango from a shelter last summer after his front left leg was amputated secondary to getting hit by a car.  He's a lovely beast of a cat.  And gangsta.

Mango.  Low rider.  Gangsta.  'Sup, human.  [Photo by Katarina.]

Sadie is probably half the size of Mango.  She often emphasizes her point through the use of gravitational enhancement.  I snicker every time.

Sadie, au Mango 1.

Sadie, au Mango 2, this time adding her dainty flair.

 

Slosh-slosh-cramp-drip-melt-ugh-die.

And let's not forget the sputter-slog-slog-slog-sputter-spit-chug-chug-kerplop.  Today's fun run was brought to you by the letter B.  For bonk.

I know better than to push myself too hard in the heat, even when feeling decently acclimated, so I took it easy today during the first lap of the July 4th Marathon fun run held in Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx.  The name is a little deceiving, as you can choose the length of your race and not many run an actual marathon.  The course is set up so that one lap is just over a 10k, two laps makes (close enough to) a half marathon (13.1), three laps makes 19.6 miles, and four laps makes (close enough to) a full marathon.  My goal was 3 laps, which is mileage consistent with the last month's long runs in the Palisades and on the Long Path.

Because this is a fun run, if you want to start early then you can.  Most people run one to two laps, so I didn't want to be one of few people slugging it out in the heat of the afternoon just because I wanted to go longer.  So instead of the official 9am start, I headed out at about 8:10.  It was great.  I had my comfortable pace, had my water intake regulated, and the whole route was nice and quiet and serene.  It rained yesterday and a little overnight, so there was still some clouds and fog keeping things cool, or at least relatively so.  I remembered the course, and all muddy patches were as I remembered.  The course was well marked and it seemed like things were on there way for a possible full marathon.

My slightly easy pace for the sake of going long ended up timing the completion of my first lap to coincide with the masses lining up for the official start.  I also needed a water refill, but didn't want to fight through the 300 or so people to get to it.  Figured I'd find one of the fountains later on.  I took the long way around the mini-bleachers and popped back out on the loop on the other side.  You don't worry about adding 10 seconds on to your time when you know you'll be out there for 3-4 hours.  I got about a mile or so in and sought water from the entrance of the golf range.  The actual fountain was more a collector of tree spores, and a staff member directed me just around the side of the building.  A groundsman helped me fill my bottle with a hose.  He was very nice, but I don't think he realized I was running a race and the clock was ticking.  "Come back any time, ma'am."  Twenty eight and I'm a ma'am?  Eesh.  Thought I do suppose I go to bed at 9:30 or 10 and get up at 5.  Whatever.

I needed to get back, because the main race had started and the 10k-ers had caught up to me.  You can tell the 10k runners because they never carry water with them and they have their eyes set dead ahead with a slightly manic look.  Why was I rushing though?  I had nearly two if not nearly three laps yet to go.  I made myself calm down, find my routine again, run my own race.  Everyone else was just beginning to get dots of perspiration on the back of their shirts, I was already dripping off the bottom hem and off of my ponytail.  Managed to keep my cool when those unfamiliar with single track would stop short or would pull up to half their pace on the downhills without letting others go by.  But, this being my second Holiday Marathon fun run, I was starting to get a feel for the nuances of the course.  The long lengths of flat ground became very apparent during that second lap.  When on hills, they were apparent and decently angled.  But the flats were a much greater component of this race, of which my guess is 2/3 of the course.  As I mentioned previously regarding the Brooklyn 1/2 Marathon, flat and I do not get along well.  Then came another short downhill with some rocks, causing the pack of manic-faced men in front of me to dodge back and forth (more for sake of keeping their shoes clean than to find a good through line, mind you).  One of them nudged me into an oddly shaped cutout in the hill.  While I was sure nothing was sprained, strained, twisted or bruised, I realized that the other runners were going rob me of the gentle mentality needed for long runs.  Meaning that I foresaw the wheels coming off for my own race.  Cue big sigh.

I got a ways further and managed to stay at my pace while letting the 10k grunters move on ahead.  Probably 2 or 3 miles left of the second lap at this point.  Realized I was getting thirsty between my drink-every-five-minutes rule, which is also not a good sign.  I haven't had any Gu Brew since Bear Mountain, the powder that makes an electrolyte drink that is insanely good for such conditions, and have instead been using my backup of Nuun tablets because of accessibility.  I kept the Nuun water on the thick side, but I realized that I was still sweating out too much.  In fact, I was sweating enough that my clothes were saturated and the sweat was running down my legs and collecting in my socks and shoes.  Not a good sign.  I downed another energy gel for some quick calories, and tried to relax.

The beginning and end of the loop is out in the open on the far side of a slew of soccer fields from the woods.  When in the woods the heat was present but not oppressive.  Once out in the open it was time for fried eggs on the sidewalk.  Crappers.  I finished lap two and got more water, wrung out my tank top and hung it off the back of my pants (there's no bag check available for a fun run), and headed off onto lap three.  The first mile felt like I was beating myself up, even though I was going slower than when in the woods.  By this lap the other racers were fewer in number and with much more pleasant temperament -- no more 10k-ers elbow jousting.  The world started to slow down.  Legs got heavy.  The Nuun water felt like it was running straight through me.  Somewhere amid yet another flat section I kept expecting to see Vanna White walk across the trail holding up the letter of the day.  I was bonking.  Meaning, the day was a bust.  If my electrolyte management is off, or (as I am realizing) if I don't have enough carbohydrates be it simple sugar goo or bread or whatever along with it, then certain portions of my abdominal muscles will cramp.  So went that too.

Heat: 1,352.  Me: 2.

Stats: 3 laps, 19.6 miles, 2:57:00, 83 degrees and rising, 54% humidity, 100% walking human puddle.  
Two former coworkers of mine were also planning on running, one in the 10k and the other for the 1/2 marathon.  I stayed for about 20 minutes after I was done to "cool off" (Hah!  Good luck with that one....), but I didn't see either of them.  I couldn't tolerate being there any longer, so I made the slow trod back to the subway, thankful for the air conditioning in the train cars to help my joints from blowing up during the 20 minute ride to 125th Street.  Luckily ridership was still low since most New Yorkers don't start their mornings until 10 or 11 a.m. and don't leave the house until 12 or 1 p.m.  I was still dripping, though it was all collecting down my backside and into a small puddle on my subway seat.  At that point I didn't trust my legs (or my head) to stand for the whole ride and survive the rocking.  I don't know if anyone noticed it when I got off at my stop, but take my word for it that a little sweat left on the seat is nothing compared to the oddities you'll see gracing the subways in NYC.  [WARNING!  The link may be too gross for some of you.  This man... well, let's say he is a gustatory learner and wanted to analyze his shoe....]   

Exhausted?  So am I!  It is 9:30 and rightly bed time for this "ma'am."  I will leave on a funny note, yielding to the endless entertainment of my kittehs.  If you have not yet seen it, Sadie was chasing flies the other day.  I'd embed the video here, but the edges get cut off and you may miss a paw or eyebrow flutter.  No warning needed for this video.

[An early] summertime in the city

This week NYC temperatures shot into the 80s.  A handful of friends originally from CA commented that it finally felt like spring -- spring??  Pshaa!  Spring was a month ago when the high was 60.  I acclimate to cold very well, but to hot... yea, not so much.  I don't sleep well (or very much at all), I sweat all the time, and I end up with light sensitive headaches because maintaining actual hydration becomes difficult while I continuously melt onto the floor.  I ended up geeking out yesterday over hydration analysis.

An interesting take on hydration that seems physiologically grounded rather than assumption grounded appeared lately on Marathon Talk, a UK based weekly podcast.  They've had a 3 part series with guest Dr. Mark Hetherington (BSc, PhD), a visiting senior research fellow at the Institute of Membrane and Systems Biology at the University of Leeds.  The second part was of most interest regarding how fluid that is sweat out by the body correlates with appropriate fluid intake.  That is, Hetherington describes how the common assumption that any loss of body weight after prolonged exercise means that exact amount of fluid must be replenished.  I.e., if you end a run having lost 2 kg (or 4.4 pounds), then the assumption is that you lost 2 kg of blood volume and thus should drink back that same 2 kg (or 2 liters, since 1 kg = 1 liter) of water to regain proper hydration.  According to Hetherington this is wrong on two counts, and this is why so many distance runners are in danger of hyponatremia, a state of abnormally low levels of salts/electrolytes in the blood.

The first point deals with the origination of sweat, which comes from two sources.  One source is from the blood, like most would assume, which secretes the fluid through the skin in order to cool you down during/after such physical exertion.  But apparently this only accounts for 50% of the sweat created by physical activity.  The second source is is a byproduct of cellular metabolism of glycogen/glucose and fats.  That means the sweating out of this byproduct water has no affect on blood volume -- your body creates the water as you burn fuel during exercise (same as it produces CO2), the water goes into the blood stream to then join in the fun as sweat (just as CO2 is transported by blood to then be exhaled through the lungs).  Herherington breaks it down into three sub-categories: of the total fluid sweated out (including true blood volume fluid) 25% is produced by releasing glycogen (i.e. concentrated glucose stores) from storage in the muscles, 16.7% is produced by burning of glycogen (breaking it down into glucose) and fat, and 8.3% is from oxidizing glucose -- thus contributing to 50% of the fluid lost via sweat.

What does this mean?  If this hypothetical runner lost 2 kg during the run, then only 1 kg was from blood volume, necessitating that only 1 kg of fluid be taken in.  Otherwise you'd be taking in twice the fluid you need, and if this is straight water then you are at risk of essentially diluting yourself to death.  This is Hetherington's second point -- that the composition of sweat is not pure water, it is an isotonic fluid.  So if you drink plain water you'd have to consume food with the requisite electrolytes.  Otherwise your blood will be diluted while cells will retain their normal isotonic properties, and this will cause osmotic flow and retention of water with cells.  When this happens to your brain, this is when things get really bad really fast.

I also found an article described by exercise phys site called Sweat Science that publishes the results of current literature -- "Effect of exercise-induced dehydration on time-trial exercise performance: a meta-analysis" by Eric Goulet, published in April of this year in the British Journal of Sports Medicine.  Comparison of 5 studies that met analysis criteria yielded that those who drank according to their thirst lost up to 4.0% of normal body mass (average 2.2%) , and yet these subjects performed better in a self-paced time trial than those who drank nothing or drank to maintain a near-perfect body mass (losing only an average of 0.44% of normal body mass).  The premise is the latter category was over-hydrated despite maintaining "normal" body mass and thus hindered their performance.

So that means I don't need to freak out as much when comparing my fluid intake with others, or with temporarily dropping a few pounds after a really long run.  I just wonder how I can apply this to non-running life in hopes of surviving the real summer once it gets here.