Weight on Chicago 2010 Race Day: 255lbs.
Saturday October 9th, 2010 came fast. I got in my car that morning to make the trek from Toledo to Chicago. The drive is not too far, somewhere around 240 miles. Takes about three and a half hours to complete the trip. I had talked to my cousin Mike that morning, he was driving to Chicago from Indianapolis. We made plans to meet along the way and leave my car somewhere and drive into Chicago together. I ended up meeting him in Gary, Indiana. I left my car there, probably not the wisest choice if you know anything about Gary. Gary is town about 25 miles South of Chicago that was founded in 1906 by the United States Steel Corporation. Gary rose and fell with the steel industry and is now a shadow of its former self. The population has been steadily decreasing for the past few decades and crime is rampant.
I wasn't overly concerned about leaving my 1997 Chevy Lumina, that already had a broken back window from theft in Toledo, on the streets of Gary for a night, but decided to park it next to a church hoping to dispel would-be thieves with guilt of their sins. After leaving the Lumina, Mike and I drove the remaining 25 miles to Chicago in his car. As we neared the city we could see the magnificent Chicago skyline. We continued toward downtown stopping here and there to pay the numerous road tolls to get into the city. Once downtown we found a place to park and started to walk to the Expo to pick up our race packets.
There were runners everywhere heading to the Expo. Chicago is one of the largest marathons in the world. That year the field was made up of 46,000 runners. During race weekend you can't go anywhere in the Chicago area without crossing paths with a runner. We entered the convention center and rode the escalator down to the level where the Expo was being held. It was a sea of vendor booths, participants, and spectators. The vendors sold anything and everything related to running. There were shoes, shirts, tights, shorts, pants, headbands, gloves, masks, gels, bars, powders, ads for other races, and countless other running related items at the booths.
Most, if not all, big marathons have some sort of Expo the day before the race. The Expo serves a few purposes including a place for runners to check-in for the race and pick up their race packet, a forum for other cities and/or organizations to advertise their races, and a market place for vendors to sell loads of what I consider to be, overpriced running gear. There are few marathons that allow runners to check-in the same day as the race. They want runners to spend money on hotel rooms, restaurants, and merchandise in the city. This is not necessarily a bad thing as it supports the local economy, but for a runner like me who would prefer to just show up, run, and go home, it proves quite annoying.
The race packet pick up area is almost always located at the back of the expo. This forces runners to have to walk through the various vendor booths on the way in and out of the Expo. At my first marathon in Columbus they had pipe and draping set up in a zigzag pattern from the front of the expo to the rear. I felt like a mouse making my way through a maze with cheese at the end of it. Except unlike the mouse I had obstacles to overcome along way such as salesmen and crowds of runners. After pick up my packet, I ended up ducking underneath the draping on the side and walked straight to the exit on the way out.
I wasn't lucky enough to be able to duck under draping in Chicago. Mike and I weaved our way through the various boots and picked up our race packets and shirts. One benefit of a huge marathon expo is there are usually more attractions than just merchandise booths. At this particular expo one of the added attractions was an autograph session with ultra runner Dean Karnazes. Karnazes has written a few books about his ultra running exploits and has become a very public face for ultra running. Some feel he is too self-involved and has a big ego, but even if that is true, I don't really care because he is a tremendous runner. I read some reviews of one of his books and some ultra runners were bashing him for writing too much about himself and not mentioning other ultra runners that are as good or better than him in his writing. I call those people cry babies. Write your own best selling book then and mention whoever the heck you want. I don't think Scott Jurek is losing any sleep over not being mentioned in Dean's book. After waiting over an hour in line we finally got to meet him. He turned out to be a very nice laid back guy. So nice in fact most of the people in the line didn't get a chance to meet him because he talked so much with everybody he ran out of time.
After the expo Mike and I checked into our hotel room. That night we got a little jog in on the treadmill at the hotel's fitness center to loosen up, took a swim at the indoor pool, and played an intense game of ping pong. We went to bed early and got up early. We were staying near Midway airport in Chicago which is about nine miles from the start of the race. We had to catch the train by 5:45AM to ensure we made it to the race on time. We stepped off the train and started making our way toward the starting line. The streets were packed. There were somewhere around 46,000 runners slated to run the race that year in Chicago and the city expected around a million and a half spectators along the course. The weather was unseasonably warm that day somewhere around 68 degrees when we stepped off the train. As we neared the start Mike and I both needed to use the restroom.
Anyone who has run a marathon knows that the port-a-potties near the start of the race always have a line and are always pretty disgusting. Mike and I got in line around 6:15AM. The lines were so long that we could have used some of those railings you see at amusement parks to wind in and out of. It took nearly 45 minutes before we reached the "on deck" spot. By that time I really needed to go (by the way this was number two not number one). The doors of the two port-a-potties flung open in front of us and we quickly moved toward them. The women that was in the stall Mike was going into handed him a large wad of wet wipes which turned out to be more valuable than gold that morning. As I walked into my stall I could not believe my eyes (or nose for that matter).
As a former Marine who had to burn his own feces with diesel fuel, I have seen my share of bad port-a-potties, turns out all of the ones I had seen weren't that bad. It was completely disgusting in that stall. There was no toilet paper, there was literally human waste (both number one and two) everywhere including on the seat and floor, and the smell almost made me pass out. I decided there was no way I could use that stall. I walked out and waited for Mike. He came out and told me how the wet wipes saved his life in his stall. That was the beginning of a very long race day for me.
We were running short on time because of the bathroom lines and had to rush to get to the start of the race. With that amount of people running it is quite the feat to find a way into the starting chute. Mike and I ended up having to climb a fence to get into the chute. We were yelled at by race workers but it had to be done. The starting chute was like a heavy metal mosh pit except there was no band playing. Runners were trying to stretch and remove excess clothing while pressed up against each other like sardines. I was ready for the race to get underway. I still had to go to the bathroom and figured I would hit a port-a-potty a few miles into race.
Since we had jumped the fence we were fairly close to the actual starting line. The race started and we began the marathon shuffle toward the start. It took us eight and a half minutes to cross the starting line. Once we were out of the starting chute we had a little room to spread out. Mike said good luck and took off. I was on my own (well as on my own as I could be with 45,999 other runners around me). I was already miserable from the whole bathroom situation and it didn't get any better from there. My urge to go to the bathroom subsided a little once I started running, and I decided I would knock out a good amount of mileage before I stopped.
The temperature was quickly approaching 80 degrees and I was not feeling very confident about the race. I already some feeling of fatigue in my legs and I had only covered eight miles. I was also becoming very annoyed with all of the other runners around me. Chicago has so many runners that unless you are leading the race, you are shoulder to shoulder basically the whole way. The aid stations that serve water and Gatorade are a quarter mile or so long just to ensure everyone can get in and get a drink. At around 12 miles I was drenched in sweat and decided it was time for that bathroom break. I ducked into a port-o-potty and spent somewhere between 10 and 15 minutes in there. It was like a sauna and I started to sweat even more.
I finally finished in the bathroom and started running again. During races I like to carry a small mp3 player and set of headphones with me. I rarely run with headphones, but like to put them on for the last three or so miles of a marathon. I blast some crazy metal and let the music carry me in. I was at mile 14 and feeling pretty crappy. I was becoming dehydrated and my legs were already tired. I decided that I needed something to get me through the rest of the race. I chose to put in the headphones. I felt it would help me forget about the other runners crowding me and carry me the next 12 miles to the finish.
The headphones weren't miracle workers by any means, but they definitely helped a little bit. For the last 12 miles of the race I jogged and walked intermittently. It felt like an eternity in between mileage markers. I was constantly scanning the road in the distance for the next marker. I eventually made it to mile 25 and was relieved I only had a mile to go. The temperature was around 82 degrees and I was completely dry, not a good sign. I had stopped sweating miles before that and all of the liquid had evaporated from my skin leaving little salt crystals everywhere on my body. I was not prepared for the heat and definitely should have drank more during the race.
I finally crossed the finish line five hours and sixteen minutes after I had started the race. I was glad to be done. I went to hunt down my cousin Mike so we could hop on the train back to the hotel. It took at least another 25 minutes after I had finished to find Mike at our meeting spot. He told me he was worried about me as he had been waiting there for over and hour and a half. I told him how crappy the race went for me and we started making our way back to the hotel.
As we walked to the train I was glad I had ran Chicago once, but knew I would be unlikely to return. It is amazing to see that many people running 26.2 miles and that many spectators cheering runners on, but it was a bit much for me. I was happy to have Chicago behind me and was already thinking about the Columbus marathon I was set to run seven days later. We made it back to the hotel, showered, packed our things, and got on our way back home. Mike dropped me off at my car in Gary, and yes it was still there unscathed, and I drove back to Toledo.
I was sitting around my apartment that evening and was not happy with my performance in the race that morning. I was concerned that if I ran that poorly in Chicago I might repeat a poor performance in Columbus the following week. I decided that as a fail safe I needed to add another marathon after Columbus. I started browsing the upcoming marathons online and saw that the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon was being held Saturday November 6th, 20 days after Columbus. It was perfect. I had three weeks to train after Columbus and my cousin Mike lived in Indianapolis so I had a place to stay. I signed up immediately. I told Mike I was running the race and needed a place to stay and he said he would run it too.
I was happy to have another race to make up for my poor performance in Chicago, but had Columbus to think about first. I had six days until I stepped onto the course in the capital of Ohio and I was determined to improve from my five and a quarter hour time.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Two Year Race Drought
After my first marathon I was pumped. I couldn't wait to run another. I definitely did not have that "One and Done" mentality. I had spent a solid six months training and dropped around 40 lbs. before that first marathon. It was easy to be disciplined during the Summer and Fall, but I found I struggled during the Winter and early Spring.
During the Summer and Fall at college I worked at a party rental shop, Meredith Party Rentals. This was great for burning extra calories. It was a physical job that involved the unloading and loading of countless trucks, setting up party tents that ranged from a minuscule 10' x 10' tent all the way to the mammoth 60' x 180' festival tents, and setting up thousands of tables and chairs. This job, in conjunction with my running, allowed me to drop the 40 lbs. without really adjusting my eating habits.
My nights out were also limited due to the amount of hours I spent working and running. I would only go out on Saturday nights. This helped my diet a little but I still ate and drank whatever I wanted. I lost the weight and felt good at the marathon. I needed to carry this routine beyond the marathon and throughout the school year. Unfortunately I was in college and not quite as disciplined as I should have been. Consequently my healthy routine soon came to an end.
Not too long after the marathon, "Party Rental" season came to an end and I was done working until Spring. Without the extra physical labor of my job the amount of calories I burned per week suffered tremendously. I tried to keep up my running as much as possible. I still ran three times during the week and once on the weekend although the mileage was significantly less than when I was training for the marathon. I started to let bad college habits creep back in to my life though, and soon my weekend runs disappeared. I would go out Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. I would take on way more carbs than my body knew what to do with and eat some of the worse foods out there. I started to gain some of my weight back.
As the days moved on and Winter swept over the area the weather began to turn cold. I tried getting out to run during the week, but dreaded the low temperatures. I didn't hate running in the cold so much as just getting out into the cold and starting. Once I start running for a little bit and warm up I don't even really notice the cold. I started talking myself out of runs because I knew I would be freezing for the first mile or so. The weight increased some more.
Before I knew it, it was late January and my running was nonexistent. I was tipping the scales at around 276 lbs. My blood pressure was back up and I felt like crap. I kept telling myself I needed to get back out there and run, but I didn't act on it until early March. The weather started to break and I forced myself to get back out and start running. It was rough getting back into shape, although not as rough as the first time when I had taken two years off from all physical activity and weighed 290. My cousin Mike called me around that time and said he really wanted to run the Chicago marathon that year. I told him I would do it and signed up for the race.
I trained for the rest of the Spring, Summer, and into the Fall. I was definitely not as disciplined as I was the previous year when I ran my first marathon. That year I limited my nights out to Saturdays only. This year I was going out on Thursday and Sunday nights on top of the Saturdays since I did not run on Mondays or Fridays. I was heavier than I should have been. The previous year I weighed around 245 lbs. for the marathon. This year I was sitting closer to 260 lbs.
The 2009 Chicago marathon was being held on October 11. Near the end of August I started to get a sharp pain in my lower left leg. It was on the inside of my shin very low nearing my ankle. At first I just thought I was sore from all of the training and ignored it. Eventually it got to the point where I could barely run on it. I have a very high pain tolerance and rarely complain about discomfort so I knew I was in trouble. I am sure the extra upper body weight I was carrying around that year was a contributing factor to the injury. I went to the doctor and had X-Rays taken. The doctor said she could not see a definitive fracture, but could see a weak spot in the bone. She said since she couldn't see a fracture and the race was only in five weeks that I could run on it if I wanted. She said if I could deal with the pain that I wouldn't cause any damage.
I tried to run some more, but I could not physically. It was very frustrating and I think at a certain point I threw in the mental towel as well. I told myself that Chicago was not going to happen and it didn't. I was not happy about it at all. As the school year went on I did not get back out to run during the cold weather as usual. I ate what I wanted and went out way more than I should have. Winter hibernation is what I would call it. I managed to make it all the way to March again without running.
I was determined not to let anything keep me from running another marathon in 2010. I knew I would have to get back to my slightly more disciplined 2008 ways. I made sure my only night out during the week was Saturday night. I also started watching my diet a little bit. The diet was not strict by any means, but I watched what I ate on weekdays and ate whatever I wanted on weekends. This helped me get to a lower maintainable weight faster. My cousin really wanted to run Chicago again so I told him I would run it. I wanted to run it mostly because I paid for it the year before and didn't get to race. I registered for the race, it was being held on October 10, 2010 or 10/10/10 (which being a nerd I thought was kind of cool).
I was feeling very confident that year and decided I wanted to run two marathons. I wanted to make up for the marathon I had missed the previous year. I also decided that if I was going to put in 6 months of training I should probably use it on more than one race. I signed up for the Columbus marathon. The date of the race was October 17, seven days after the Chicago marathon. My body has always recovered fast from physical activity so I knew I would be fine to run another 26 miles within seven days.
I had my races lined up and was ready to go. Before I knew it, it was October. I was back in marathon shape and ready to take on more miles in a week than I ever had in my entire life.
During the Summer and Fall at college I worked at a party rental shop, Meredith Party Rentals. This was great for burning extra calories. It was a physical job that involved the unloading and loading of countless trucks, setting up party tents that ranged from a minuscule 10' x 10' tent all the way to the mammoth 60' x 180' festival tents, and setting up thousands of tables and chairs. This job, in conjunction with my running, allowed me to drop the 40 lbs. without really adjusting my eating habits.
My nights out were also limited due to the amount of hours I spent working and running. I would only go out on Saturday nights. This helped my diet a little but I still ate and drank whatever I wanted. I lost the weight and felt good at the marathon. I needed to carry this routine beyond the marathon and throughout the school year. Unfortunately I was in college and not quite as disciplined as I should have been. Consequently my healthy routine soon came to an end.
Not too long after the marathon, "Party Rental" season came to an end and I was done working until Spring. Without the extra physical labor of my job the amount of calories I burned per week suffered tremendously. I tried to keep up my running as much as possible. I still ran three times during the week and once on the weekend although the mileage was significantly less than when I was training for the marathon. I started to let bad college habits creep back in to my life though, and soon my weekend runs disappeared. I would go out Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. I would take on way more carbs than my body knew what to do with and eat some of the worse foods out there. I started to gain some of my weight back.
As the days moved on and Winter swept over the area the weather began to turn cold. I tried getting out to run during the week, but dreaded the low temperatures. I didn't hate running in the cold so much as just getting out into the cold and starting. Once I start running for a little bit and warm up I don't even really notice the cold. I started talking myself out of runs because I knew I would be freezing for the first mile or so. The weight increased some more.
Before I knew it, it was late January and my running was nonexistent. I was tipping the scales at around 276 lbs. My blood pressure was back up and I felt like crap. I kept telling myself I needed to get back out there and run, but I didn't act on it until early March. The weather started to break and I forced myself to get back out and start running. It was rough getting back into shape, although not as rough as the first time when I had taken two years off from all physical activity and weighed 290. My cousin Mike called me around that time and said he really wanted to run the Chicago marathon that year. I told him I would do it and signed up for the race.
I trained for the rest of the Spring, Summer, and into the Fall. I was definitely not as disciplined as I was the previous year when I ran my first marathon. That year I limited my nights out to Saturdays only. This year I was going out on Thursday and Sunday nights on top of the Saturdays since I did not run on Mondays or Fridays. I was heavier than I should have been. The previous year I weighed around 245 lbs. for the marathon. This year I was sitting closer to 260 lbs.
The 2009 Chicago marathon was being held on October 11. Near the end of August I started to get a sharp pain in my lower left leg. It was on the inside of my shin very low nearing my ankle. At first I just thought I was sore from all of the training and ignored it. Eventually it got to the point where I could barely run on it. I have a very high pain tolerance and rarely complain about discomfort so I knew I was in trouble. I am sure the extra upper body weight I was carrying around that year was a contributing factor to the injury. I went to the doctor and had X-Rays taken. The doctor said she could not see a definitive fracture, but could see a weak spot in the bone. She said since she couldn't see a fracture and the race was only in five weeks that I could run on it if I wanted. She said if I could deal with the pain that I wouldn't cause any damage.
I tried to run some more, but I could not physically. It was very frustrating and I think at a certain point I threw in the mental towel as well. I told myself that Chicago was not going to happen and it didn't. I was not happy about it at all. As the school year went on I did not get back out to run during the cold weather as usual. I ate what I wanted and went out way more than I should have. Winter hibernation is what I would call it. I managed to make it all the way to March again without running.
I was determined not to let anything keep me from running another marathon in 2010. I knew I would have to get back to my slightly more disciplined 2008 ways. I made sure my only night out during the week was Saturday night. I also started watching my diet a little bit. The diet was not strict by any means, but I watched what I ate on weekdays and ate whatever I wanted on weekends. This helped me get to a lower maintainable weight faster. My cousin really wanted to run Chicago again so I told him I would run it. I wanted to run it mostly because I paid for it the year before and didn't get to race. I registered for the race, it was being held on October 10, 2010 or 10/10/10 (which being a nerd I thought was kind of cool).
I was feeling very confident that year and decided I wanted to run two marathons. I wanted to make up for the marathon I had missed the previous year. I also decided that if I was going to put in 6 months of training I should probably use it on more than one race. I signed up for the Columbus marathon. The date of the race was October 17, seven days after the Chicago marathon. My body has always recovered fast from physical activity so I knew I would be fine to run another 26 miles within seven days.
I had my races lined up and was ready to go. Before I knew it, it was October. I was back in marathon shape and ready to take on more miles in a week than I ever had in my entire life.
Friday, October 12, 2012
My First Race
Weight on Columbus 2008 Race Day: 248lbs.
After two months of struggling to get back into some kind of shape I could finally run three miles non-stop. It wasn't a very fast three miles, maybe 11:00 a mile, but it was three miles nonetheless. It was May 2008, the weather was warming up, and I was beginning to like going out for runs. I had spent the last two months running pretty much the same path and distance around four times a week. Even though I was starting to enjoy my running I was starting to get a little bored. I felt I needed some sort of change or challenge to mix it up a little bit.
I had always knew I wanted to run a marathon at some point in my life. My father ran two marathons and tons of half-marathons. I remember him telling my brothers and me about them and how fascinating I thought it was. I also was very proud of my dad for a lot of his accomplishments and remember always telling my friends how he ran those marathons. I think it was then that I kind of put the idea of running a marathon somewhere in the back of my head. It was an "I will get to you when the time is time right" thought.
I felt the time could not have been more right than that May. I wanted a change in my running and a challenge, so what better than a marathon? I had no idea how to train for a marathon. I started scouring the Internet looking for training plans. I wound up at Hal Higdon's site. Hal Higdon is a veteran runner and former editor of Runner's World magazine. He has written several books on running and has developed some of the most widely used marathon (and races of other distances) training plans in the world.
I chose Higdon's Novice 1 marathon training program. It was the obvious choice because I was a true novice, but I really liked the fact that it was only four days of running a week and built the mileage up slowly. I still follow this program today adding extra runs here and there and tougher terrain. I am a bigger guy and feel that limiting my running to four or five days a week and not going crazy with the mileage has helped prevent injuries and preserve my joints for running well in to the future.
Higdon's plan was an 18 week training plan. I wanted to make sure I could find a race that wasn't horribly far from where I lived and that I had enough time to train for. Once again I hit up the Internet. I stumbled upon Marathon Guide. It has one of the most comprehensive lists of marathons on the web. I counted 18 weeks out from the current date and started looking at marathons around and after that date. The Columbus marathon seemed to be my best bet. I had friends I could stay with in Columbus, it was reasonably priced ($65 at the time I think), it was only 140 miles away from where I was living, and it fit my time frame for training.
The date of the marathon was Sunday, October 19th, 2008. That meant my training needed to start the week of June 15th. I spent the month of May getting used to the four days of the week I would be running on: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. I pretty much ran three miles on each of those days for the month of May and part of June. Tuesday June 17th was my first official training run.
Over the next 18 weeks I slowly built up the mileage according to the plan. At first I struggled on some of the longer runs. During the first week of training the long run is six miles. I remember having to walk a few times on that run. I also remember that is was a pretty slow pace. As time moved on I started to get stronger and the runs started to get easier. I went from walking on a six miler to being able to run 12 miles straight without slowing. I eventually made it to week 15 of the program or the "Climax" week of the program. It was the week with the most amount of miles to run out of all 18 weeks, at 40 miles. The weekday runs were 5, 10, and 5 miles capped off by a weekend long run of 20 miles.
After I completed week 15 of training I had a three week taper until the race. Tapering is reducing the amount of miles you run per week slowly until race day to allow your body to be at full strength. (I have since learned that I do not like to taper for that long. I usually taper for two or less weeks now) During that time my anticipation for the race built up. I was nervous, but at the same time could not wait for the race. I had spent all those months training and I was ready to see if it had paid off.
My cousin Mike was also running his first marathon that day. We did a lot of our long training runs together. I use the term "together" loosely because Mike is much faster than I am. We started our long runs together and he would run out ahead. We did out and back runs so I would pass him as he was coming back in. I wasn't incredibly far behind him so he would wait the 15 or 20 minutes until I finished. We would then discuss how our runs went and go our separate ways for the day. I actually real liked it that way. I don't really like running with anyone on training runs. It is my time to myself when I am out there running. Time to clear my head and push my body's limits. So the start "together, split, pass each other, talk at the finish" routine was perfect. It felt good to know someone else was out there covering the mileage and nice to have someone to discuss the run with, but not actually have to run with that person the entire time.
Sunday, October 19, 2008 finally came. Weight: 249 lbs. It was a chilly morning, I think somewhere around 37 degrees. My parents had driven down to Columbus from Cleveland to watch my cousin and I me in the race. My parents, Mike and I met near my friend's house that morning and started walking toward the starting line. It was 6:55 in the morning and still pretty dark outside. There were tons of other people making their way to the starting line as well. The city was like a giant funnel and we were all spilling into the intersection of Third and Broad Street. As we made our way through the maze of tall buildings the noise level began to grow. We approached Broad street and could see thousands of runners lining up for the race. We squeezed our way through the sea of fans and runners and made it toward the back of the start.
Mike and I stretched as my mom took pictures. We were ready to go. There was a stage near the starting line where a rock band was playing. The music stopped and a voice came over the PA system. The announcer said we had five minutes until the start of the race. We stretched a little more and my parents wished us luck. The voice came back over the PA counting down from 10. When he reached zero a horn sounded and the race began. The mass of runners started to flow like water from a broken dam. I think there were around 15,000 runners that year. 12,000 running the half marathon and 3,000 running the full. Columbus has since increased their field size to 15,000 and 5,000. It is amazing to see that many people running at the same time.
The first few miles were crowded to say the least. Mike and I were constantly maneuvering around slower runners as faster runners maneuvered around us. We were also dodging loose clothing that had been discarded by other runners. This is a common practice at marathons in cool weather. Runners wear a layer of clothing to keep warm until the race starts and then throw it on the ground or off to the side of the course.I think in most cases the clothing is collected and donated to charity. The crowds of runners started to thin around three miles and it felt good to have a little bit of space.
Mike decided he was going to hang with me for a lot of the race even though I told him not to let me hold him back. We ran and passed people and people passed us. There were spectators everywhere on the streets. They would cheer as you ran by. Fans would yell out your race bib number to let you know they were cheering you on. A lot of runners put their names on their shirts so fans could yell a name instead of a number. I happened to have dread locks at the time so I got a lot of "Go Dreads Go!" types of cheers. There were also a lot of bands/musical acts along the way. As I ran by some of the bands I wondered if they played the same song or two over and over. I mean none of the runners would know they were only capable of playing one song. At my pace I heard maybe a minute of the song before they were out of earshot.
Eventually we were close to the halfway point, 13.1 miles. At around 12.9 miles or so the half marathoners started to peel off from the main road and head to the finish line. Hoards and hoards of runners went left toward the finish line as the few of us that remained kept going straight passing the 13.1 mile sign. I couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride as I passed that point knowing I was about to run the same distance all over again while the half marathoners went to eat, drink, and celebrate. The 13.1 mile mark always seemed a little too short for me. I wasn't very fast but I could run long so 26.2 just seemed like a better fit. As we passed the 13.1 mile mark we ran over the electronic pads that pick up the sensor in your timing chip. As we ran over the pad our names were displayed on a screen for a man to announce over a PA system along with our times. It felt good to be halfway.
We continued on. Everything seemed a little more quiet now that there were 12,000 less runners on the course. It was especially quiet when we ran through the Ohio State campus. I think most of the students were sleeping off whatever antics they got into the night before. It was fun running through the campus though. We ran right around and through the parking lot of the Horseshoe, the Ohio State Buckeyes' football stadium. It makes you feel awfully small when you run by a large structure like that. As we started to approach the 17 mile mark I began to feel my legs tighten up. It was much earlier in the race than I had hoped I would feel that. At around 18 miles I told mike I was going to walk for a second. He didn't feel like stopping and told me good luck and that he was going to try and stick with the four hour and thirty minute pace group that was right ahead of us.I bid him farewell and was on my own from there on out.
Even though my legs were a little tight I started running again and managed to get a little beyond the 20 mile mark before I took a walking break again. Passing the 20 mile mark was a big deal, everything after that point was further than I had ever run before. The longest run I did in training was 20 miles. For the next few miles I followed a "run with intermittent walking" type strategy. I was really starting to feel my legs tighten once I passed the 23 mile mark. The closer I got to the finish the more spectators there seemed to be. People knew that you were only a few miles from the finish and really wanted to cheer you on to help get you there.
23 - 25 miles was a rough time in the race. My legs were tight and every time I tried to pick up the pace I could feel my calves cramping. My calves were the worst part, I could feel them almost lock as they cramped and it was painful. I did a lot of walking during those two miles. I eventually made to the ever elusive 25 mile mark. It felt amazing knowing I only had a little over a mile until I was finished. I started to forget about the aches and pains and couldn't wait to cross that finish line. With about a half mile to go I passed a group a fans near a folding table. The table had a boom box on it and it was blasting the Marine Corps Hymn. As a former active duty Marine it was just what I needed to pump me up for my last half mile. I picked up the pace and came around the corner of a park and back onto the main road. There were fans everywhere. They were lining both sides of the streets and going crazy.
I had about three tenths of a mile to go and started to really pick up the pace. I wanted to finish strong and also look good in front of all of those people. As I started to pick up the pace I looked to the right and saw my parents cheering me one. My dad and mom were there holding signs my mom had made for my cousin and me. The one read "Go Justin, Wrestler, Machine Gunner, Marathoner!". My dad had the biggest smile on his face. I think he was partially reliving the marathons he had once run. I couldn't have been happier when I saw them there cheering me own. I rounded the corner and started down the small strip toward the finish line. I could just make out the clock at the finish line, it was around a tenth of a mile away.
As I was running toward the finish I started to pass a taller man. I looked at him as I passed and realized that it was my boss from when I had framed houses back in high school. I turned and said "Corey?!!". He said "What's up dude? How you been?" I replied, "Pretty good just trying to finish this race. I am definitely not gonna let you beat me. I will see you at the finish." I sprinted ahead and a crossed the finish line. It was a great feeling, one I will remember for the rest of my life. It had taken me four hours forty-one minutes and thirty-three seconds to cover the 26.2 miles. My cousin Mike ended up staying with the pace group and finished 11 minutes ahead of me at 4:30.
As I caught my breath a volunteer hung a medal around my neck and congratulated me. I walked ahead through the fenced in area and saw the tables of food and drink ahead. It looked amazing. They had recovery drinks, fruit, bagels, milk, and a ton of other things. I took what I could and chowed down. It was delicious. There were people all over the place. Runners were taking pictures with their friends and family. A reggae band was playing a large stage in the finishing area. It was kind of fitting considering my hairstyle at the time. As I walked to meet my parents I was thinking how a lot of people I had talked to about running before the marathon said they had run one marathon and would never do it again. I mean I was fatigued but I knew there was no way that would be my first and last marathon. I was hooked and could not wait to do another one.
After two months of struggling to get back into some kind of shape I could finally run three miles non-stop. It wasn't a very fast three miles, maybe 11:00 a mile, but it was three miles nonetheless. It was May 2008, the weather was warming up, and I was beginning to like going out for runs. I had spent the last two months running pretty much the same path and distance around four times a week. Even though I was starting to enjoy my running I was starting to get a little bored. I felt I needed some sort of change or challenge to mix it up a little bit.
I had always knew I wanted to run a marathon at some point in my life. My father ran two marathons and tons of half-marathons. I remember him telling my brothers and me about them and how fascinating I thought it was. I also was very proud of my dad for a lot of his accomplishments and remember always telling my friends how he ran those marathons. I think it was then that I kind of put the idea of running a marathon somewhere in the back of my head. It was an "I will get to you when the time is time right" thought.
I felt the time could not have been more right than that May. I wanted a change in my running and a challenge, so what better than a marathon? I had no idea how to train for a marathon. I started scouring the Internet looking for training plans. I wound up at Hal Higdon's site. Hal Higdon is a veteran runner and former editor of Runner's World magazine. He has written several books on running and has developed some of the most widely used marathon (and races of other distances) training plans in the world.
I chose Higdon's Novice 1 marathon training program. It was the obvious choice because I was a true novice, but I really liked the fact that it was only four days of running a week and built the mileage up slowly. I still follow this program today adding extra runs here and there and tougher terrain. I am a bigger guy and feel that limiting my running to four or five days a week and not going crazy with the mileage has helped prevent injuries and preserve my joints for running well in to the future.
Higdon's plan was an 18 week training plan. I wanted to make sure I could find a race that wasn't horribly far from where I lived and that I had enough time to train for. Once again I hit up the Internet. I stumbled upon Marathon Guide. It has one of the most comprehensive lists of marathons on the web. I counted 18 weeks out from the current date and started looking at marathons around and after that date. The Columbus marathon seemed to be my best bet. I had friends I could stay with in Columbus, it was reasonably priced ($65 at the time I think), it was only 140 miles away from where I was living, and it fit my time frame for training.
The date of the marathon was Sunday, October 19th, 2008. That meant my training needed to start the week of June 15th. I spent the month of May getting used to the four days of the week I would be running on: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday. I pretty much ran three miles on each of those days for the month of May and part of June. Tuesday June 17th was my first official training run.
Over the next 18 weeks I slowly built up the mileage according to the plan. At first I struggled on some of the longer runs. During the first week of training the long run is six miles. I remember having to walk a few times on that run. I also remember that is was a pretty slow pace. As time moved on I started to get stronger and the runs started to get easier. I went from walking on a six miler to being able to run 12 miles straight without slowing. I eventually made it to week 15 of the program or the "Climax" week of the program. It was the week with the most amount of miles to run out of all 18 weeks, at 40 miles. The weekday runs were 5, 10, and 5 miles capped off by a weekend long run of 20 miles.
After I completed week 15 of training I had a three week taper until the race. Tapering is reducing the amount of miles you run per week slowly until race day to allow your body to be at full strength. (I have since learned that I do not like to taper for that long. I usually taper for two or less weeks now) During that time my anticipation for the race built up. I was nervous, but at the same time could not wait for the race. I had spent all those months training and I was ready to see if it had paid off.
My cousin Mike was also running his first marathon that day. We did a lot of our long training runs together. I use the term "together" loosely because Mike is much faster than I am. We started our long runs together and he would run out ahead. We did out and back runs so I would pass him as he was coming back in. I wasn't incredibly far behind him so he would wait the 15 or 20 minutes until I finished. We would then discuss how our runs went and go our separate ways for the day. I actually real liked it that way. I don't really like running with anyone on training runs. It is my time to myself when I am out there running. Time to clear my head and push my body's limits. So the start "together, split, pass each other, talk at the finish" routine was perfect. It felt good to know someone else was out there covering the mileage and nice to have someone to discuss the run with, but not actually have to run with that person the entire time.
Sunday, October 19, 2008 finally came. Weight: 249 lbs. It was a chilly morning, I think somewhere around 37 degrees. My parents had driven down to Columbus from Cleveland to watch my cousin and I me in the race. My parents, Mike and I met near my friend's house that morning and started walking toward the starting line. It was 6:55 in the morning and still pretty dark outside. There were tons of other people making their way to the starting line as well. The city was like a giant funnel and we were all spilling into the intersection of Third and Broad Street. As we made our way through the maze of tall buildings the noise level began to grow. We approached Broad street and could see thousands of runners lining up for the race. We squeezed our way through the sea of fans and runners and made it toward the back of the start.
Mike and I stretched as my mom took pictures. We were ready to go. There was a stage near the starting line where a rock band was playing. The music stopped and a voice came over the PA system. The announcer said we had five minutes until the start of the race. We stretched a little more and my parents wished us luck. The voice came back over the PA counting down from 10. When he reached zero a horn sounded and the race began. The mass of runners started to flow like water from a broken dam. I think there were around 15,000 runners that year. 12,000 running the half marathon and 3,000 running the full. Columbus has since increased their field size to 15,000 and 5,000. It is amazing to see that many people running at the same time.
The first few miles were crowded to say the least. Mike and I were constantly maneuvering around slower runners as faster runners maneuvered around us. We were also dodging loose clothing that had been discarded by other runners. This is a common practice at marathons in cool weather. Runners wear a layer of clothing to keep warm until the race starts and then throw it on the ground or off to the side of the course.I think in most cases the clothing is collected and donated to charity. The crowds of runners started to thin around three miles and it felt good to have a little bit of space.
Mike decided he was going to hang with me for a lot of the race even though I told him not to let me hold him back. We ran and passed people and people passed us. There were spectators everywhere on the streets. They would cheer as you ran by. Fans would yell out your race bib number to let you know they were cheering you on. A lot of runners put their names on their shirts so fans could yell a name instead of a number. I happened to have dread locks at the time so I got a lot of "Go Dreads Go!" types of cheers. There were also a lot of bands/musical acts along the way. As I ran by some of the bands I wondered if they played the same song or two over and over. I mean none of the runners would know they were only capable of playing one song. At my pace I heard maybe a minute of the song before they were out of earshot.
Eventually we were close to the halfway point, 13.1 miles. At around 12.9 miles or so the half marathoners started to peel off from the main road and head to the finish line. Hoards and hoards of runners went left toward the finish line as the few of us that remained kept going straight passing the 13.1 mile sign. I couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride as I passed that point knowing I was about to run the same distance all over again while the half marathoners went to eat, drink, and celebrate. The 13.1 mile mark always seemed a little too short for me. I wasn't very fast but I could run long so 26.2 just seemed like a better fit. As we passed the 13.1 mile mark we ran over the electronic pads that pick up the sensor in your timing chip. As we ran over the pad our names were displayed on a screen for a man to announce over a PA system along with our times. It felt good to be halfway.
We continued on. Everything seemed a little more quiet now that there were 12,000 less runners on the course. It was especially quiet when we ran through the Ohio State campus. I think most of the students were sleeping off whatever antics they got into the night before. It was fun running through the campus though. We ran right around and through the parking lot of the Horseshoe, the Ohio State Buckeyes' football stadium. It makes you feel awfully small when you run by a large structure like that. As we started to approach the 17 mile mark I began to feel my legs tighten up. It was much earlier in the race than I had hoped I would feel that. At around 18 miles I told mike I was going to walk for a second. He didn't feel like stopping and told me good luck and that he was going to try and stick with the four hour and thirty minute pace group that was right ahead of us.I bid him farewell and was on my own from there on out.
Even though my legs were a little tight I started running again and managed to get a little beyond the 20 mile mark before I took a walking break again. Passing the 20 mile mark was a big deal, everything after that point was further than I had ever run before. The longest run I did in training was 20 miles. For the next few miles I followed a "run with intermittent walking" type strategy. I was really starting to feel my legs tighten once I passed the 23 mile mark. The closer I got to the finish the more spectators there seemed to be. People knew that you were only a few miles from the finish and really wanted to cheer you on to help get you there.
23 - 25 miles was a rough time in the race. My legs were tight and every time I tried to pick up the pace I could feel my calves cramping. My calves were the worst part, I could feel them almost lock as they cramped and it was painful. I did a lot of walking during those two miles. I eventually made to the ever elusive 25 mile mark. It felt amazing knowing I only had a little over a mile until I was finished. I started to forget about the aches and pains and couldn't wait to cross that finish line. With about a half mile to go I passed a group a fans near a folding table. The table had a boom box on it and it was blasting the Marine Corps Hymn. As a former active duty Marine it was just what I needed to pump me up for my last half mile. I picked up the pace and came around the corner of a park and back onto the main road. There were fans everywhere. They were lining both sides of the streets and going crazy.
I had about three tenths of a mile to go and started to really pick up the pace. I wanted to finish strong and also look good in front of all of those people. As I started to pick up the pace I looked to the right and saw my parents cheering me one. My dad and mom were there holding signs my mom had made for my cousin and me. The one read "Go Justin, Wrestler, Machine Gunner, Marathoner!". My dad had the biggest smile on his face. I think he was partially reliving the marathons he had once run. I couldn't have been happier when I saw them there cheering me own. I rounded the corner and started down the small strip toward the finish line. I could just make out the clock at the finish line, it was around a tenth of a mile away.
As I was running toward the finish I started to pass a taller man. I looked at him as I passed and realized that it was my boss from when I had framed houses back in high school. I turned and said "Corey?!!". He said "What's up dude? How you been?" I replied, "Pretty good just trying to finish this race. I am definitely not gonna let you beat me. I will see you at the finish." I sprinted ahead and a crossed the finish line. It was a great feeling, one I will remember for the rest of my life. It had taken me four hours forty-one minutes and thirty-three seconds to cover the 26.2 miles. My cousin Mike ended up staying with the pace group and finished 11 minutes ahead of me at 4:30.
As I caught my breath a volunteer hung a medal around my neck and congratulated me. I walked ahead through the fenced in area and saw the tables of food and drink ahead. It looked amazing. They had recovery drinks, fruit, bagels, milk, and a ton of other things. I took what I could and chowed down. It was delicious. There were people all over the place. Runners were taking pictures with their friends and family. A reggae band was playing a large stage in the finishing area. It was kind of fitting considering my hairstyle at the time. As I walked to meet my parents I was thinking how a lot of people I had talked to about running before the marathon said they had run one marathon and would never do it again. I mean I was fatigued but I knew there was no way that would be my first and last marathon. I was hooked and could not wait to do another one.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
A Foal's First Steps
So it was March of 2008, I was a sophomore in college, I weighed 290 lbs., my blood pressure was through the roof, and I was having heart palpitations. I needed to do something and fast. I was tired of feeling like crap and decided I needed to start adding some physical activity back into my life. I started to think of different ways I could get back into shape.
The campus rec center was one of the first things that crossed my mind. It had free weights, circuit machines, basketball courts, a running track, treadmills, ellipticals, and even a rock climbing wall. All of those amenities seemed great but the rec center had one other thing that I wasn't too fond of, people. I guess I should clarify, I do not dislike people in general, I just dislike most of them when they are in a rec center. There are pretty much three main types of people in a college rec center: girls who come mostly to socialize, meat-heads, and intramural sports players.
The intramural sports players didn't bug me much. They were mostly on the basketball courts or the indoor soccer field. The meat-heads were just plain annoying. They took up all of the free weights, wore sleeveless shirts with arm holes were so big their sides were completely exposed,and engaged in nonstop conversations about supplements. The girls were not that annoying, they just made me more self-conscious than anything. I am a loud breather when I run or workout so I always felt like girls next to me were judging me. I could hear the thoughts in their heads: "Man look at this fat guy next to me. Can you believe how loud he is breathing? I think he might have a heart attack."
The rec center just didn't seem like the place for me. After considering a few more options running became to obvious choice to help get me back into shape. It was something I could do without many distractions or people getting in my way. I didn't have to get in my car and drive anywhere to do it. Most importantly it was cheap. it did not require a monthly membership or special equipment. All I needed were a shirt, pair of shorts, socks, and a pair of running shoes. Some running minimalists may tell you I didn't even need the socks or shoes but I am a bigger guy and feel the cushioning of the shoes definitely helps me.
I also happened to live in a really great spot for running. Not for super long distances, but perfect to start getting back into shape. Right across the street from my apartment there was a 3.5 mile paved running path. It circled a public golf course and park. The path also ran right in front of a major hospital which I felt was a good thing considering how out of shape I was. If I passed out I would have medical care almost instantly.
I decided to start out with a two mile run. I felt a little guilty because of my Marine Corps roots. The minimum you run in the Marines is three miles because that is the length of the run on the Marine Corps physical fitness test. However I had to be realistic, there was no way I was making it three miles. So I suited up and headed out for my first run in almost two years. As I had expected it did not go well.
I started off a lot faster than I probably should have. I felt good for about the first quarter to half a mile. Then I began to feel it. Two years of almost no physical activity was coming down on me hard. My lungs began to burn. The muscles in my legs began to tighten. My lower back started cramping from all of the extra weight I was carrying. My breathing became rapid and my heart felt like it was going to pop out of my chest. I slowed to a walk before I even hit the one mile mark.
I didn't walk very long before my brain entered the fight. My determined old self, the wrestler, the Marine, started yelling at me. "C'mon man you have to be kidding me. You are walking on a two mile run. You used to be able to run two miles in under 13 minutes. You hiked 17.5 miles at a 3.5 mph pace with full combat gear, a pack, and machine gun." I had to agree with myself that waling was ridiculous. I started up again and pushed it for another three quarters of a mile. I had half of a mile left and I was walking again.
I have always sprinted the last tenth to quarter mile of my runs. So a lot of times I happen to walk for a few seconds within a half mile of the finish to catch my breath so I can sprint hard. This was not the case on this run. I was tired and in pain and just wanted to walk the rest of the way, but after about a minute I realized I had hardly any distance to go and started running again. My "end of run sprint" lasted less than a tenth of a mile, but I was happy I sprinted any distance at all.
Most people probably would tell you that you can't get a runner's high on a two mile run, but I would disagree. Once I caught my breath I felt fantastic, mentally that is. I was back. I knew that if I could push myself through that two miles once at 290 lbs. I could do it again. I knew from there it would only get easier. I still had a lot of ups and downs to go from that point until the present, but I was happy to be back out there on my feet pounding the pavement again.
The campus rec center was one of the first things that crossed my mind. It had free weights, circuit machines, basketball courts, a running track, treadmills, ellipticals, and even a rock climbing wall. All of those amenities seemed great but the rec center had one other thing that I wasn't too fond of, people. I guess I should clarify, I do not dislike people in general, I just dislike most of them when they are in a rec center. There are pretty much three main types of people in a college rec center: girls who come mostly to socialize, meat-heads, and intramural sports players.
The intramural sports players didn't bug me much. They were mostly on the basketball courts or the indoor soccer field. The meat-heads were just plain annoying. They took up all of the free weights, wore sleeveless shirts with arm holes were so big their sides were completely exposed,and engaged in nonstop conversations about supplements. The girls were not that annoying, they just made me more self-conscious than anything. I am a loud breather when I run or workout so I always felt like girls next to me were judging me. I could hear the thoughts in their heads: "Man look at this fat guy next to me. Can you believe how loud he is breathing? I think he might have a heart attack."
The rec center just didn't seem like the place for me. After considering a few more options running became to obvious choice to help get me back into shape. It was something I could do without many distractions or people getting in my way. I didn't have to get in my car and drive anywhere to do it. Most importantly it was cheap. it did not require a monthly membership or special equipment. All I needed were a shirt, pair of shorts, socks, and a pair of running shoes. Some running minimalists may tell you I didn't even need the socks or shoes but I am a bigger guy and feel the cushioning of the shoes definitely helps me.
I also happened to live in a really great spot for running. Not for super long distances, but perfect to start getting back into shape. Right across the street from my apartment there was a 3.5 mile paved running path. It circled a public golf course and park. The path also ran right in front of a major hospital which I felt was a good thing considering how out of shape I was. If I passed out I would have medical care almost instantly.
I decided to start out with a two mile run. I felt a little guilty because of my Marine Corps roots. The minimum you run in the Marines is three miles because that is the length of the run on the Marine Corps physical fitness test. However I had to be realistic, there was no way I was making it three miles. So I suited up and headed out for my first run in almost two years. As I had expected it did not go well.
I started off a lot faster than I probably should have. I felt good for about the first quarter to half a mile. Then I began to feel it. Two years of almost no physical activity was coming down on me hard. My lungs began to burn. The muscles in my legs began to tighten. My lower back started cramping from all of the extra weight I was carrying. My breathing became rapid and my heart felt like it was going to pop out of my chest. I slowed to a walk before I even hit the one mile mark.
I didn't walk very long before my brain entered the fight. My determined old self, the wrestler, the Marine, started yelling at me. "C'mon man you have to be kidding me. You are walking on a two mile run. You used to be able to run two miles in under 13 minutes. You hiked 17.5 miles at a 3.5 mph pace with full combat gear, a pack, and machine gun." I had to agree with myself that waling was ridiculous. I started up again and pushed it for another three quarters of a mile. I had half of a mile left and I was walking again.
I have always sprinted the last tenth to quarter mile of my runs. So a lot of times I happen to walk for a few seconds within a half mile of the finish to catch my breath so I can sprint hard. This was not the case on this run. I was tired and in pain and just wanted to walk the rest of the way, but after about a minute I realized I had hardly any distance to go and started running again. My "end of run sprint" lasted less than a tenth of a mile, but I was happy I sprinted any distance at all.
Most people probably would tell you that you can't get a runner's high on a two mile run, but I would disagree. Once I caught my breath I felt fantastic, mentally that is. I was back. I knew that if I could push myself through that two miles once at 290 lbs. I could do it again. I knew from there it would only get easier. I still had a lot of ups and downs to go from that point until the present, but I was happy to be back out there on my feet pounding the pavement again.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
The Distance Running Dark Years 1984 - March 2008
My entire life up to this point has revolved around weight. I do not predict this will change either. I was not enormous as a child, but was definitely larger than average. My family is a wrestling family. I am talking collegiate style wrestling not that fake WWE pro wrestling crap. My father was a state champion and both of my brother state qualifiers. I grew up wrestling. When you live life as a wrestler you are always aware of your weight. So from the time I started wrestling in the third grade until my senior year of high school I always my weight at any given time. 3rd Grade - 80 lbs, 4th Grade - 90 lbs, 5th Grade - 100 lbs., 6th Grade - 120 lbs., 7th Grade - 132 lbs., 8th Grade - 156 lbs., 9th Grade - 171 lbs., 10th Grade - 171 lbs., 11th Grade - 205 lbs., 12th Grade - 189 lbs.
Weight was always on my mind "What weight will I wrestle this year?", "How much weight will I have to cut to make that weight class?", etc. Negative thoughts concerning my weight were also on my mind, "Kids at school called me fat. Am I really fat?", "Man I am bigger than a lot of people. I wonder what it would be like to be small and skinny?", etc. I ended up believing I was fat because of those things, but trust me when I look back at pictures of myself I don't know how I ever thought that.
I thought once I finished wrestling my senior year and joined the Marine Corps that weight would no longer be a major thought in my mind. I was wrong about that. The Marine Corps has pretty stringent weight and fitness standards. The fitness part was never a problem, I could run, do pull-ups, sit-ups and push-ups with no problem. In fact I was better than a lot of my counterparts when it came to fitness. The weight standards are what killed me.
The weight standards in the Marines go by sex, height, and age. They have a chart and look up your maximum weight based on those three things. I am around 5'10 1/2". So it was always a crap shoot on whether or not my height would get recorded as 5'10" or 5'11" for a particular weigh-in. The weight limit for 5'10" was 192 lbs. whereas the 5'11" limit was 197 lbs.
I was scheduled to leave for boot camp September after my senior year of high school. During the summer I was a laborer with a company that framed houses. It was tough work and I was in good shape. I weighed around 210 lbs. In order to go to boot camp I had to be within 5% of my weight limit. My limit was 192 lbs. which meant I had to weigh 202 lbs. or less to go.
The night before you fly to boot camp you stay in a hotel with everyone else from your geographic area that is going to boot camp as well. While others were partying their last night up in the hotel I was in the sauna in a rubber suit jumping rope.I weighed in the next morning at 201.1 lbs. and was able to go to boot camp. I had a duffel bag full of food and drinks ready to go and polished off every last bit of it on the flight to South Carolina. When I got to Parris Island I weighed 212 lbs.
At boot camp I was put on what is called "Diet Tray". That meant at the chow hall I had to have the healthier of the two main dishes they were serving, the only side I was allowed was white rice, and I was not permitted to have any dessert. I remember trying to test the dessert waters one day when we were out at the rifle range. At the rifle range they delivered bagged lunches or "Bagged Nastys" as the we called them. They came with a drink, a sandwich (usually still partially frozen), a small bag of plain potato chips, a fruit, and a pack of Oreo cookies. Normally the first thing the drill instructors do is tell all "Diet Tray" recruits to pass their cookies to the front. Well that day they forgot and I decided to eat my Oreos before they realized their mistake. Well 10 min later they remembered and I had no Oreos to hand in. They decided to use mass punishment and made all of the other recruits smash their chips and Oreos together and eat them. The theory being that having all of them mad at me was worse then them punishing me themselves.I was glad when no one really seemed to care.
The Sunday before you graduate boot camp they give you four hours where you are allowed to walk around Parris Island on your own. It is the first time in 12 weeks you are without a Drill Instructor. You are also allowed to eat at the fast food places that are on the base. Well in order to graduate boot camp I of course had to be under my weight limit. I was 190 lbs. when they measured me and somehow determined I was 5'9". That meant I needed to be 186 lbs. to graduate. Weigh-ins were conveniently being held the night after our four hours of freedom, which of course meant no food for me. I decided I did not like this and chose to "man" up and ask my Senior Drill Instructor permission to weigh-in in the morning before the four hours of free time.
He of course accused me of just wanting to pig out during the four hours. I told him that I did not want to pig out but did want to be able to at least eat something. He yelled for a few minutes and then told me, "You know what, since you had the balls to come ask me, I will let you weigh-in in the morning." The night before my weigh-in ended up being very similar to the night before I flew to boot camp. The other recruits were all happily asleep ready for their four hours of freedom while I was in the showers in a garbage bag jumping rope. The next morning my senior drill instructor measured me at 5'10". He doesn't know it but in my head I repeatedly beat him with that cursed measuring stick after I found out they were not using the 5'9" weight standard. I weighed-in at 184 lbs., two full pounds below the 186 lb. max for 5'9". Of course now that I was magically 5'10" I could have weighed 192 lbs. and been sleeping the night before. Needless to say I enjoyed my four hours of freedom with some Pizza Hut.
The remaining three years and nine months of my Marine Corps career after boot camp were spent in constant discussions of my weight and extra physical training as well as non-recommendations for promotions, and threats of being kicked out because I was over my weight standard. I sat around 230-235 lbs. for most of my time after boot camp. The most irritating thing about it was I was an expert with my rifle, a sharpshooter with my pistol, a Marine combat safety swimmer, and never fell back on a single run yet I constantly got crap just because of my weight. But the guy who couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a firearm, would drown in a puddle, and fell out of every run was okay because he was skinny. I couldn't wait to be free of the Marines and go to college and never think about weight again.
I did just that. I went to college and didn't think about my weight at all. I went out four to five nights a week and ate whatever I wanted. Two years later I was 290 lbs. with a blood pressure of 170/110. Not the greatest time in my life. I felt like crap most of the time, I was winded going up stairs, and let me tell you college girls aren't very interested in a fat 290 lb. guy when they have countless, in-shape 18-23 year old males all around them. It was March 2008 and I was unhealthy, depressed, and needed to do something.
RUNNING TO THE RESCUE!
Weight was always on my mind "What weight will I wrestle this year?", "How much weight will I have to cut to make that weight class?", etc. Negative thoughts concerning my weight were also on my mind, "Kids at school called me fat. Am I really fat?", "Man I am bigger than a lot of people. I wonder what it would be like to be small and skinny?", etc. I ended up believing I was fat because of those things, but trust me when I look back at pictures of myself I don't know how I ever thought that.
I thought once I finished wrestling my senior year and joined the Marine Corps that weight would no longer be a major thought in my mind. I was wrong about that. The Marine Corps has pretty stringent weight and fitness standards. The fitness part was never a problem, I could run, do pull-ups, sit-ups and push-ups with no problem. In fact I was better than a lot of my counterparts when it came to fitness. The weight standards are what killed me.
The weight standards in the Marines go by sex, height, and age. They have a chart and look up your maximum weight based on those three things. I am around 5'10 1/2". So it was always a crap shoot on whether or not my height would get recorded as 5'10" or 5'11" for a particular weigh-in. The weight limit for 5'10" was 192 lbs. whereas the 5'11" limit was 197 lbs.
I was scheduled to leave for boot camp September after my senior year of high school. During the summer I was a laborer with a company that framed houses. It was tough work and I was in good shape. I weighed around 210 lbs. In order to go to boot camp I had to be within 5% of my weight limit. My limit was 192 lbs. which meant I had to weigh 202 lbs. or less to go.
The night before you fly to boot camp you stay in a hotel with everyone else from your geographic area that is going to boot camp as well. While others were partying their last night up in the hotel I was in the sauna in a rubber suit jumping rope.I weighed in the next morning at 201.1 lbs. and was able to go to boot camp. I had a duffel bag full of food and drinks ready to go and polished off every last bit of it on the flight to South Carolina. When I got to Parris Island I weighed 212 lbs.
At boot camp I was put on what is called "Diet Tray". That meant at the chow hall I had to have the healthier of the two main dishes they were serving, the only side I was allowed was white rice, and I was not permitted to have any dessert. I remember trying to test the dessert waters one day when we were out at the rifle range. At the rifle range they delivered bagged lunches or "Bagged Nastys" as the we called them. They came with a drink, a sandwich (usually still partially frozen), a small bag of plain potato chips, a fruit, and a pack of Oreo cookies. Normally the first thing the drill instructors do is tell all "Diet Tray" recruits to pass their cookies to the front. Well that day they forgot and I decided to eat my Oreos before they realized their mistake. Well 10 min later they remembered and I had no Oreos to hand in. They decided to use mass punishment and made all of the other recruits smash their chips and Oreos together and eat them. The theory being that having all of them mad at me was worse then them punishing me themselves.I was glad when no one really seemed to care.
The Sunday before you graduate boot camp they give you four hours where you are allowed to walk around Parris Island on your own. It is the first time in 12 weeks you are without a Drill Instructor. You are also allowed to eat at the fast food places that are on the base. Well in order to graduate boot camp I of course had to be under my weight limit. I was 190 lbs. when they measured me and somehow determined I was 5'9". That meant I needed to be 186 lbs. to graduate. Weigh-ins were conveniently being held the night after our four hours of freedom, which of course meant no food for me. I decided I did not like this and chose to "man" up and ask my Senior Drill Instructor permission to weigh-in in the morning before the four hours of free time.
He of course accused me of just wanting to pig out during the four hours. I told him that I did not want to pig out but did want to be able to at least eat something. He yelled for a few minutes and then told me, "You know what, since you had the balls to come ask me, I will let you weigh-in in the morning." The night before my weigh-in ended up being very similar to the night before I flew to boot camp. The other recruits were all happily asleep ready for their four hours of freedom while I was in the showers in a garbage bag jumping rope. The next morning my senior drill instructor measured me at 5'10". He doesn't know it but in my head I repeatedly beat him with that cursed measuring stick after I found out they were not using the 5'9" weight standard. I weighed-in at 184 lbs., two full pounds below the 186 lb. max for 5'9". Of course now that I was magically 5'10" I could have weighed 192 lbs. and been sleeping the night before. Needless to say I enjoyed my four hours of freedom with some Pizza Hut.
The remaining three years and nine months of my Marine Corps career after boot camp were spent in constant discussions of my weight and extra physical training as well as non-recommendations for promotions, and threats of being kicked out because I was over my weight standard. I sat around 230-235 lbs. for most of my time after boot camp. The most irritating thing about it was I was an expert with my rifle, a sharpshooter with my pistol, a Marine combat safety swimmer, and never fell back on a single run yet I constantly got crap just because of my weight. But the guy who couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a firearm, would drown in a puddle, and fell out of every run was okay because he was skinny. I couldn't wait to be free of the Marines and go to college and never think about weight again.
I did just that. I went to college and didn't think about my weight at all. I went out four to five nights a week and ate whatever I wanted. Two years later I was 290 lbs. with a blood pressure of 170/110. Not the greatest time in my life. I felt like crap most of the time, I was winded going up stairs, and let me tell you college girls aren't very interested in a fat 290 lb. guy when they have countless, in-shape 18-23 year old males all around them. It was March 2008 and I was unhealthy, depressed, and needed to do something.
RUNNING TO THE RESCUE!
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