Rehoboth Beach Half Marathon

Rehoboth Beach, DE - A Newark man in his late 20s completed the 2nd annual Rehoboth Beach Half Marathon this morning, and he did so with beer.

"I've been offered beer during races a lot," he said. But never did he think it was worth the risk to partake mid-race until this morning. "It was a good thing too, I just finished a cup of the worst Powerade ever and came upon the beer table several yards away. The guy could have been shilling fresh warm urine and I'd have at least considered it, the Powerade was so bad. When he held up the plastic cup that was still nearly see-through despite the purported beer within I had my doubts but with about one mile left to go I figured whatever it did could be overcome. If not, well... sometimes you just have to wing it."

Asked what he liked most about the race, he responded without hesitation. "I've never heard them announce my name and home town as I crossed the finish line to wild applause, that was awesome."

Alternatively, the race lost big points for its unannounced and unreferenced ~6 mile trek through the trails of Cape Henlopen State Park. "I only ever run on the road. I stay away from trails because my ankles are more prone to injury than the average bear. Had I known about the trail situation with this race I might have thought twice about doing it." Ultimately though, he confessed to being glad to have done the race regardless of the conditions.

"I thought I had an outside chance of PR'ing through mile 5, but it turned out that I was just running too fast at the beginning. By the time I got to the ninth mile my hamstrings were on their way out the door and I resigned myself to getting the best time I could using a quick shuffle. But before mile 11 I noticed I was taking very shallow breaths. I focused on my breathing, taking one huge breath in, holding it for a moment and then letting it out. My legs came back to me a couple minutes later and I was able to run again -- slowly, to be sure, but much better than shuffling."

Below are the half-marathons completed to date*; while this one is in the bottom half in terms of finishing times, it's close enough to the neighborhood of the upper half to inspire hope for the Caesar Rodney in March:

2:47:49 - 2000
2:26:44 - 2001
2:32:42 - 2002
3:17:48 - 2004
2:33:00 - 2006
2:27:42 - 2007
2:33:13 - 2009

*All but today are from the CR of that year

(One of these years, the PR of 2001 will fall!)

Itinerary

Saturday, 11/21

3am: Wake up
3:00:01am: Wonder how it was that this seemed like a good idea over the summer
3:01: Shake off doubt, get in shower
3:15: Dry off with towel, apply underarm deodorant (or don't for increased chance of opponents steering clear in later miles), get dressed
3:20: Eat breakfast
3:30: Brush teeth
3:35: grab bag with knee braces, supplements, bagel, baby wipes, deodorant (mandatory), towel, change of clothes
3:45: Depart
6am: Arrive at intersection of Rehoboth Avenue & the Boardwalk, pick up race packet, affix bib number to shirt in non-sloppy manner
6:15: Take supplements, eat bagel, make set list
6:30: Stretch, warm up
6:50: Line up
7am: Begin running at 11:30/mile pace for 13.1 miles
9:30-9:40: Stop running once across finish line; pump fist, high-5 anyone willing; collect finisher's medal; eyeball the field to see if age-division placing is possible; hang out for awards ceremony if so, head to truck if not; stretch
10am: Assuming no awards possibility, use baby wipes, dry with towel, apply deodorant, change clothes
1pm: Arrive home victoriously; kiss girlfriend; eat if hungry; shower
2pm: Nap

Dividend

10 miles on the hills of 273, 11/1/09: 1:59:10, 11:55/mile (1 week smoke-free)

10 miles on the hills of 273, about 45 minutes ago: 1:55:38, 11:32/mile (3 weeks)

I Quit

It never felt right. I've been told many times that it never looked right, either, even by seasoned veterans. The handful of times I caught a reflection of it in-progress, I was forced to agree.

Friday night, October 23, 2009, around 7pm EDT, I felt a certain scratchiness in my throat that told me I was on the verge of catching a cold, but forced myself to run eight miles the next morning. This may sound familiar as I previously discussed this event here. The yet-untold part of this story is that on my way home from that eight mile run, I smoked my last cigarette after about eight and a half years.

How did I quit? Completely unintentionally. I felt so awful after that run between my illness intensifying and being so drained from the run that I didn't even have the energy to stop and buy a new pack on my way home. I just wanted to take my shower as quickly as possible and go to sleep for a very long time. I figured I would go out later that evening or the next day for my new pack because surely the urge would come on as it always did, even during throat-destroying illnesses.

That urge never came. Saturday turned into Sunday. Sunday into Monday. I called out of work that Monday, 50% because I was still not feeling up to snuff; 50% because I knew I had about two days of non-cigarette-ness going and that if I could just get that to three days, I would have myself a nice little streak going. My smoking routine at work was so established that I was terrified I would crumble under pressure, rationalize my way into buying a new pack and lose the momentum I had built up over the weekend. It was very important to me, I realized that morning, that I not go to work for that reason.

That Monday morning I forced myself to run one mile. The point was not so much about the running though, as it was to hold the pack that held my last cigarette in my hand, crush it and slam-dunk it into a trash can on the first turn, then sprint as far as I could on the strength of my smoke-free lungs. I held a 9:20 pace through half a mile before I started coughing up all kinds of disgusting things and had to slow down; finished in 10:23, but I never felt better about a slower time.

Monday turned into Tuesday. Tuesday was so easy to get through because of the lingering sore throat and 72 hours free of tobacco, I was surprised beyond belief. I thought for sure that if I were going to succumb to Big Tobacco, it would be my first day back at work.

No.

Four days turned into a week. I hadn't told anyone yet aside from Dianna, because I had tried quitting maybe 10 times over the years and rarely made it past the first day. I always ran my mouth to anyone who would listen and put so much additional, unnecessary pressure on myself that all previous attempts to quit were doomed to failure before they even got off the ground. This time would be different. This time, the announcement would be in victorious celebration, not hopeful anticipation. I sent an email to my dad after the first week as a kind of mini-celebration. I told my coworkers last Friday evening on the verge of the two week mark.

I've felt a small handful of cravings but they are easily dismissed with a couple deep breaths into my noticeably larger-capacity lungs. To assist me in my cessation project, I've decided to be as arrogant about this as humanly possible because running your mouth after the fact and backing it up is one of the most satisfying human conditions possible. The act of smoking is condemned as a hell-worthy trespass, as it was pre-8.5 years ago. Smokers are to be mocked. Big Tobacco needs to be assisted in going bankrupt via litigation as quickly as possible. I couldn't understand why cigarettes were legal even while I was smoking them; clearly, they are the worst legal thing you can do to yourself over the years. But even with that certain knowledge, it was not enough to make me truly want to quit until I was good and ready... and sick.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ):

How much would you say you smoked on average over the last 8.5 years?
I started out smoking a pack and a half a day because we smoked indoors, which basically demands that you chainsmoke. That lasted for 2-3 years, maybe. Thereafter, it was about a pack a day until the last year or so, where I cut back to half a pack or less.

So you basically smoked a pack a day for over eight years. This is your ten year anniversary with long distance running. Something doesn't look right here?
The numbers don't lie. I started running, picked up smoking about a year and a half later, but kept running anyway. Typically I would smoke once before a run and again afterward. The best cigarette I ever had was the Marlboro light I had about 15 minutes after finishing the Delaware Marathon in 2006. Probably because I wasn't entirely sure if it would kill me immediately, considering my exhausted, depleted state. I could barely lift the filter to my lips I was so spent. But I did it anyway because the tobacco told me to.

Are you retarded or something?
Not anymore! But during that time, probably.

What was your brand of choice?
The worst of the worst, Marlboro reds. Arrogant as I am about this, I do realize that there's a reasonable chance I've done irreparable damage to my lungs because of what I smoked. All I can do now is not make it any worse.

What caused you to post about this?
I read an article in this month's Runner's World by the Penguin himself, John Bingham. Bingham is a grandfatherly-aged runner who ate too much, drank too much and smoked too much for the first half of his life until he realized how hollow it was to indulge in these things as a matter of course. He turned to running instead and while he is not an elite by any stretch, he is the poster boy for the common man as to what miraculous things can happen when you finally, truly decide that enough is enough. There are legions of elite (and amateur) athletes who argue that Bingham's philosophy has lowered the bar for athletic achievement by supporting walking-based strategies at races. To those people, I offer a giant middle finger as for some, this is a starting point to work towards something better.

Cafe Gellato* 10 Miler

I actually did not get to run this race. Due to the worst organization I've ever seen, I wasn't able to find the starting line until a couple minutes after the race began. I latched on to a couple runners at different points to follow but never ended up near the beginning until I walked over a certain hill on Cleveland Avenue and saw a police cruiser blocking a street, then heard a whistle and saw lots of legs churning through the trees. I was over a quarter mile away from the race. Because the organizers put the registration packets in zip-lock bags and left them on a table unattended, I never got to speak with a race official to see where the starting line was; I couldn't even tell who a race official was, if there were any.

The icing on the cake is parking. "Plenty of free parking behind the restaurant", the race's website states. Oh yeah? Why did I then end up parking blocks away? I don't really care about the distance from the truck to the restaurant; I'm a distance runner and this was a distance race, I'm used to covering more ground than the average bear. It's the principle of the matter that they stated, "plenty of free parking", when "plenty" was not true. Guys, for future reference, there is another word in the English language that would have fit better: "some".

Furious, I headed back to my truck and considered any number of scathing comments to lob in the direction of anyone who would listen that was associated with the race. My diabolical musings were interrupted shortly after they began by someone calling my name. I turned around to find Nate's girlfriend, Carolyn, running toward me. I told her my tale of woe and sorrow regarding the starting line situation, related how pissed off I was, and almost immediately calmed down just because I was able to talk about it briefly with someone who was not at fault. That alone probably saved my day from being wasted in bitterness and fury as once my mind cleared, I saw that I still needed to run 10 miles and did not have a race in which to do them. Carolyn and I parted company so off to 273 in Fair Hill I went to run perhaps the ten most devastating miles in the area.

273 is absolutely gorgeous to behold on either side of the road stretching from Newark, DE to Rising Sun, MD. It is mostly undeveloped on either side, apart from the occasional gas station. Even houses are fairly sparse. The shoulder is usually about ten feet wide so I run with almost no fear of getting splattered aside from when crossing one bridge about 1.5 miles out from my starting line. On that bridge I know I am tempting fate to end my to-this-point short life and I have had visions of tractor trailers sending me flying over the guardrail and into the creek below. As you might expect I spend as little time as possible on that bridge.

As beautiful as it is, 273 is also ridiculously hilly. My starting point is always the edge of a brick house beside Little Egypt Road. Heading west toward Rising Sun, the first mile is fairly flat aside from the last quarter mile, which starts to dip downhill. By the start of the second mile, that dip has turned into an all-out plunge for over half a mile more until the valley with the aforementioned bridge. Up the other side is an equally ridiculous hill that stretches for more than half a mile more. The half mile between 2 and 2.5 miles is equally split between up- and down-hill, with 2.5 to 3.0 miles being downhill again. 3.0 to 3.5 is mostly uphill with a plateau at the end. 3.5 to 4.0 is slightly downhill. 4.0 to 5.0 is about evenly split between down and up. Come about at the five mile mark and do it all over again in reverse to get to 10 miles.

As mentioned last week, 12 minute miles for any distance on this road is nothing to sneeze at considering the terrain. I held that split for seven of my eight miles last week, pre-illness. This week, I finished in 1:59:10, or 11:55 per mile. This is a better time than I was aiming for in the actual race that I didn't get to do so I have to think I'm capable of 11:30 or better for 10 miles on a reasonable course.

With three weeks to go before the big race I'm not sure what my plans are. I think it would be good to do 12 miles this weekend coming up, but it might be better to try to get an even faster 10 mile time. I know I will be taking it easy two weekend from now, maybe just a 4-6 mile run so as to give the legs a chance to refresh in time for the race the following weekend.

I weighed in at 307.8 post-run yesterday and remain confident that either before or during the half-marathon race, I will see the other side of 300 pounds for the first time in eight years. I still attribute most of the 60 pounds lost since this past March to dietary changes, moreso than running. Running doesn't hurt, though.

*since I didn't actually do this race, the 273 10-mile route is now known as Jason's Crazy Ass 10 Miles

World Series: Game 2 Coverage

New York - The Phillies' bats were as cold in game two as they were hot in game 1. The National League's most prolific offense managed one run on six hits as Yankees' pitcher A.J. Burnett dealed a gem for seven innings. Obvious future Hall of Famer Mariano Rivera threw two shutout innings for the save.

"I'm better than C.C. Sabathia," Burnett said. "I don't know why Joe [Girardi] chose to put C.C. as the World Series ace, you saw how he did out there last night. We all thought it was a joke until the first pitch to Rollins that night."

Sabathia declined to comment on Burnett's comments directly but did mutter under his breath, "Yeah, we'll see who's joking in the showers later." There was no evidence of a shank hidden under Sabathia's jersey however reports suggest an affinity for brass knuckles and eight-bladed shaving razors powered by diesel engines.

First baseman Mark Teixeira tied the Yankees in the fourth inning with a solo home run. The crowd reacted with clapping and yelling but couldn't pronounce his name in unison for any creative celebratory chant. Teixeira (teh-SHARE-uh) seemed disappointed as he approached home plate but denied reports of tears forming. "I don't cry over anything. At all. Ever."

Hideki Matsui, lovingly nicknamed Godzilla, put the Yankees up with a solo shot of his own in the sixth inning. Mothra remains a person of interest in the investigation of how the brand new $1.5 billion Yankee Stadium was demolished as Godzilla rounded the bases. The series will now play out in Philadelphia while George Steinbrenner's children try to buy, construct and furnish a new stadium in time for game six, if necessary, back in New York.

Both Yankee home runs came off of rejuvenated Phillies veteran Pedro Martinez. Martinez's command was excellent for most of the night however when asked what happened on the two home run balls, "Don Zimmer won't stop tweeting about our issue from six years ago. Every time that old bastard tweets I get an alert. Guess how many times he tweeted Thursday night?" This reporter refuses to succumb to social retardism like Twitter and so the rhetorical question went unchallenged. For reference, Don Zimmer, 72 at the time, charged Martinez during a bench-clearing brawl during the ALCS in 2003 between Boston and New York. Pedro tossed the AARP member to the ground. Since then, Zimmer admits fault for the incident. Every day. He has held over 1500 consecutive press conferences to admit fault on the issue.

The Phillies' lone run scored came on an RBI single by DH Matt Stairs, 41, driving LF Raul Ibanez in. "If I'm supposed to be done, why am I the only run-producer on this team?", Stairs quipped when asked if he was considering retirement after the season. Upon review of his stats for the whole season, which include a .194 batting average and 17 RBI in 103 plate appearances, Stairs nodded. "Yeah, I'm done. I should be done right now. Hey, Charlie? Can I retire right now?"

World Series: Game 1 Coverage

We here at OTMR are not believing that Philly finally has a legitimate powerhouse professional sports team. To be sure, the Phillies have not won their second consecutive World Series title yet. As the greatest and best sports broadcaster the world has ever known related to us tonight, however, the team to win the first game has won the championship each of the last six seasons. Including last year's winner/defending champs.

To capture the best possible perspective on this historic World Series we took a different approach to our interviews with the athletes before, during and after the game. We pretended we weren't with any press outlet and asked them real questions that demanded real answers. If they didn't know they were going to be quoted, we knew we'd get the real scoop.

The Phillies got on the board first tonight thanks to a solo home run by second baseman Chase Utley in the top of the third, the first of two shots on the night for him. "He made a mistake, I made him pay for it. That's why I'm here", Utley said. He paused and looked back at the cast of teammates sharing in the glory of victory. "That's why we're all here, come to think of it. We're here to make the Yankees pay for showing up."

Cliff Lee couldn't agree more. "I'm a machine," he shrugged when asked how he managed to throw a complete game against the team with the best record in baseball through the regular season. "I throw strikes. If I throw three of 'em, they're out. Three outs and I go sit back down. If I don't throw one, I keep throwing until I do." When asked what the contingency plan is should someone ever make contact with one of his pitches, Lee indicated he would, "cross that bridge when I come to it."

Phillies skipper Charlie Manuel made some incomprehensible pig-noises when approached by our reporting staff to the delight of nearby fans, yet dismay of this editor. We can only glean that he was pleased with the effort, the result, and dinner.

Yankees losing pitcher C. C. Sabathia, former teammate of winning pitcher Lee with the Indians from 2002 through Sabathia's trade in mid-2008, remarked about how disappointing it is to be shown up by a former comrade in the World Series. "I won't sleep tonight, I can't. He shouldn't have beaten me. I know I'm the ace from that team, not him!" Upon seeing the objective statistics from tonight's game that blatantly show Cliff Lee to be far superior, Sabathia hung his head and resumed gaining unwanted weight via donuts and whiskey.

"Mr. October", also known as New York shortstop Derek Jeter had a typical 3-for-4 game and scored the Yankees' only run on 1B Mark Teixeira's fielder's choice. Carlos Ruiz, also known as "Senor Octobre" for his recent post-season heroics, went 1-for-4 with a run scored and a growing suspicion that perhaps he is not on Jeter's level yet.

New York closer Mariano Rivera never got a sniff of action tonight, nor did he play any baseball. However just before the top of the ninth inning Rivera was seen tipping his cap to Philadelphia closer Brad Lidge, as if to agree that they would not do battle tonight afterall. Brad Lidge changed his pants so as not to appear on our post-game interviews with fresh damp marks surrounding the crotch area.

Game 2 starts at 7:57pm Thursday night on Fox. Thank God for Joe Buck's voice yet again, and whoever that jackass is with him.