Posts Tagged ‘Observations’

With respect to the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, I wanted to move today’s 11 things post up a day. It didn’t feel right to do a silly post for tomorrow. I also am going out of the norm of my 11 things concept and making it a post about running. Today’s 20-mile run was full of observations and thoughts, some serious, some not so serious. Without further delay, here is this month’s 11 things a day early.

1. To all my friends who made the obvious statement about it being dark at 5:30 a.m. when I started my run, guess what? It was, in fact, very dark. The sun came up as scheduled.

2. I saw a deer poop for the first time ever. (It was still dark then. And she had the audacity to do this in front of her two kids, me and Duke.)

3. Two families were setting up their yard sales before 6 a.m. (In the dark.)

4. Someone in the middle of Bedford has a rooster. It was confused because it was doing its wake-up call before the sun was even thinking about coming up.

5. This may have been the most even-split long run ever — the second half was just 57 seconds faster than the first (dark) half. I wasn’t out there for speed today, but I’m happy with the (slow) consistency. Plus in the second half I walked a few hills, so I’ll take whatever negative split I can get.

6. Three GUs are better than two for this distance. That’s a very important lesson I’ve taken from previous bad runs.

7. I was really struggling in the middle miles. All of a sudden I got to mile 14 and I thought about stopping and walking home. I turned to Twitter for motivation. About a dozen tweets rolled in giving me some inspiration. I went from having my slowest mile at mile 14, to my fastest mile at mile 17.

8. 20 miles in Bedford is really hard. I know that from last year, but I was reminded of that today at nearly every turn. It’s so freakin’ hilly here that it makes it easy to drop F bombs at the sight of another hill. I think I may have offended some old ladies today.

9. I have a new favorite running song. It’s slow, but it’s easy to sing along to. And here is where I give you the parental advisory to not click on THIS LINK if you get easily offended by Ben Folds doing covers of Dr. Dre songs. This might have played when I ran my fastest mile today. And I may have hit repeat a few times. And I may have offended old ladies again.

10. Post-run I had a chocolate milk, a watered-down Gatorade and an egg and turkey burger sandwich. Good stuff. I’ve increased my protein intake this summer pre- and post-long runs and it seems to help me recover faster. Next run I’m finding that rooster and eating him for breakfast.

11. In more seriousness, though, I want to say that I had fun. And that’s what matters more than anything else. Even if it was dark.

Here’s a little known fact about me — I very rarely plan my routes. I usually just have a general mileage range in mind and then run wherever I feel like it. I do have certain routes that I know the exact mileage of and have actually been sticking to them lately in my recovery process, but today was different — it was time to run with absolutely no plans beyond getting to at least 6 miles.

So instead of starting from home, I drove to the local middle school to start my route. Then the goals starting coming to mind — hit some long hills, both uphill and downhill. Considering three months ago I was told to avoid hills as much as possible, I wanted to go out of my way if I had to in order to run hills.

Another goal was to not worry about my time at all. When I looked at my watch I made a promise to myself to just look at the distance and avoid looking at the current pace or time elapsed.

I also wanted to make sure I enjoyed this run — for the first time in a while I stopped and took several pictures, including this pony behind the Elks National Home in Bedford:

Things were going great and a few miles into it I decided I needed to do something to help my mind — run the hill where the pain started in October. So I ventured to that part of town and stopped and took this picture of it:

I posted it to Twitter with this simple message: “The hill where my knee pain started 5 months ago. Time to make it mine.”

I made it mine. And I made this entire 6.2-mile run mine. I ran it like I wanted today. I had fun. I didn’t think about my knee. I hit so many little goals along the way that I almost let my emotions get to me. It was like the finishing line of a big race.

Today I crossed a hurdle — I’m not injured anymore; I’m not in recovery either; and while I am training for a 10k in a couple of weeks, I am officially ready for the rest of the year with all these lessons learned in my brain ready to be utilized. I am, as many people on Daily Mile keep telling me, back.

“Duke, look at that bird.”

The only problem is, Duke didn’t see the bird and that bird wasn’t flying away. And then he stepped on it. Twice.

The bird flapped around and chirped, and then two birds came out of nowhere and sent us on our merry way.

It’s not much to this story, but it was story I had to tell. And the baby bird was OK, I think. He hopped back up and appeared to recover. We didn’t stick around too long though — mommy bird wasn’t too happy.

Growing up in a small town, it’s easy to know every little detail about places and things. There’s a story to be told about every building and place. But growing up in the small town of Bedford, Va., I never ran on the streets. I rode my bike occasionally, but I rarely spent much time up close to certain areas.

If you’re familiar with Bedford, anyone can tell you about Vista Foods, which still is around; the Kroger that is now home to the Bedford Bulletin; Citty Ford, which is now Franks Pizza and yes Citty is spelled correctly; Rubatex, where my grandmother and many others from that generation worked, but it now looks like a ghost town; and the McDonald’s that closed in the 1980s. Then there are the churches.

I thought I knew about all the churches within Bedford’s “city” limits. That is, until last night’s 10-miler (the fourth 10-miler in four weeks). My friend and I (and Duke) were running up Court Street — a fairly big hill that is pretty much just that. A street that’s a big hill next to the big Courthouse downtown near the museum. But going up the hill I noticed Court Street United Methodist Church. It was just a small gray building with little fanfare, only a tenth of a mile (if that) from the church I grew up in — Main Street United Methodist Church.

I told my friend, “I grew up here and I’ve spent a lot of my 31 years traveling these roads, but I never knew there was a church right there.”

It’s funny how we rely on the Internet for quick information, but trying to find information about this church isn’t easily found on Google. Click here to see what I found after several different searches trying to find the church. It’s obviously not on Court Street anymore. It’s just a small church doing its own thing, like many small churches in this area. They don’t appear to have a website, nor do they probably need one. I bet the church isn’t on Facebook either.

The point with this is that with running it’s so awesome to find little things that you didn’t know about before. From businesses to little side streets to houses you didn’t know existed to historical markers to churches, every community is full of things we don’t know are out there. If you think you really know about your community, think again. Next time you’re on a run (or a walk or a bike ride or in the passenger seat), look around you. Is there something there you didn’t know existed?

One month from tomorrow is the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon. You know, that race I’m training for? I haven’t really mentioned it too much. I’m not sure why though. Maybe it’s because last year was such a disaster with the heat and was easily one of the worst race experiences I’ve ever had. With a month to go, I’m feeling pretty good about where I am with my training, but I know it’ll still be a relatively slow race for me.

My goals for this race are pretty much dependent on the weather. I learned that lesson last year. This year, though, I don’t want to be happy just finishing. I don’t want to be forced to walk like I did several times last year. But if it’s hot again, I can’t really rule that out. With Labor Day this year on the last day it could possibly be, this race is essentially a week later than it was last year, which could make a huge difference with the weather. Labor Day weekend is usually crazy hot or the first relief from the summer heat, which I’m hoping for.

My ultimate goal in the next year or so is to break my half marathon PR, which is 1:44:23 in the frigid Shamrock Half Marathon in 2007. This isn’t the race to do that. The nice thing is last year was so bad time wise that it’ll be easy for me to break the forgettable 2:06:03. If it’s nice weather — meaning low humidity and temperatures in the morning in the upper 60s — I’d like to be around 1:50. If it’s hot and humid, I’ll shoot for beating 2 hours. Once race day gets closer I’ll adjust those goals as necessary.

* * *

Looking ahead a bit to 2010 (which is just really weird to write), I am all but sure I will not do this race again. I am unimpressed with the promotions offered to people who didn’t sign up early to save money. Just check out the Web site right now and see the “Register on the 9th and Reap the Rewards” offer coming up in a few days. The first 50 people to register that day get a “sponsor gift” — new shoes to the first 20, a nice gift card to P.F. Chang’s. While I did “save” money by signing up early, where were the sponsors then to get people to sign up? This coming from a race that has never had an issue with filling up.

I know the economy is bad and this offer may be a direct reflection of that, but it is not a good move at all. Not for the Rock ‘n’ Roll group and not for the sponsors. I’m not a big fan of New Balance anyway, but a chance at a free pair of shoes would’ve been nice back whenever I signed up for this race. And a gift card to P.F. Chang’s likely would have led to my first visit ever to that restaurant.

This isn’t the only reason I will probably not do this race next year, but it did kind of send me over the edge in the past couple of weeks. Responses to them on Twitter and Facebook did generate some personal responses, but in the end they were very generic and basically told people to read the small print to still enter to win the promotional items — “with all promotions it states in the official rules that anyone can register for a promotion by sending in their name and contact information on an index card by the last day of the promotion.” I’m sorry, but after I’ve signed up for a race, I don’t read that fine print on promotions that don’t apply to me.

Sorry for my rant, but I had to get it out of me.

My friends over at the Runner’s Lounge often post some interesting subjects. They also have an awesome Web site connecting runners with runners, but time just isn’t on my side to get involved as I would like. That all being said, this week’s “Take-It-and-Run Thursday” topic is very interesting, and like many things with running, it is very challenging. So here’s my take on “If I knew then what I know now.”

What have you stubbornly resisted learning or trying? Speed work. I’ve always been scared to push my body to its limits. I always impressed myself with races, but never did interval training at all until I ran with a group. I definitely suggest doing it with a group first, then your confidence will come around to trying it by yourself.

What has led to breakthroughs in your running? Lots of little things. Finishing my first race made me realize that I can do anything I set my mind to.

What lesson about running has taken you too long to figure out? Injuries. I wouldn’t say it’s taken too long to figure out … it’s just frustrating to figure out.

What 1 or 2 factors have made your running most successful and enjoyable? Finishing my first race … and four years later finishing my first marathon.

What training or racing blunders have set you back? In training for my first “long” race - a 10 miler - I increased my mileage too quick and suffered from knee problems. I know now to stop when something hurts.

What 1 or 2 pieces advice would you pass along to a beginning runner? It gets easier each day … then it gets hard all over again. I also suggest to push yourself a little farther every day. Start at a mile … then 1.25 miles, then 1.5 miles, then 1.75 miles. A little bit goes a long way.

What advice would you pass along to a veteran runner who is stuck in a rut? Try a different route. I know too many people who have the same route, or same neighborhood. You need different scenery at least once a week.

What has kept you from achieving your running goals? Injuries, but I’ve been lucky to only have two and neither have been major. But they’re frustrating.

What is one mistake that has made a significant difference in your running that would you like to reverse? Instead of using the work mistake, I like to say lessons learned. And, I think the biggest lesson learned came 10 years ago when I stopped running. I missed out on a lot by stopping and gaining weight.

Running in the winter isn’t necessarily a battle against the cold or the wind or the up and down temperatures Virginia gets. It’s the daylight hours, or really, the lack of. I have trouble waking up when it’s dark out. I manage, somehow, but it’s not the same as the summer. Right now, I can really tell that the days are getting a bit longer. It’s nice that it’s not pitch black at 7 a.m. But thanks to our federal government, we’ll be springing forward soon, and it’ll be a good month or so before it’s daylight when I would prefer it to be daylight.

However, there is the end of the day. I used to be an evening runner, but changed a year ago. Perhaps I’ll have to reconsider soon. I’m flexible to some extent. I just had more “problems” at the end of the day when I ran.

Anyway, I really have no point. I guess it’s those winter blues. I’m craving consistent temperatures in which I can run in shorts and short sleeves. Meanwhile, it’s been a pretty good week so far. I’m a mile ahead of last week so far. I’m debating on hitting double digits for the long run this week. That’s a decision that’ll come that morning probably.

For the second straight year, dandelions are coming out in February. While I enjoyed the nice warm weather recently, weeds aren’t exactly what I want to see on a mid-February run. I want to run in blowing snow just to do it. Just once this winter. That’ll all I ask for. I know you guys in the mid-west, northwest and northeast would gladly change your weather for dandelions, but you’d think differently if you lived in it!

While December has been frustrating with being sick and then an injury, I’m not about to let that take away from an awesome 2007. The obvious accomplishment comes from finishing my first marathon in November, which is the whole reason for actually having a blog.

Before my blogging days began in April, I set a PR in a half marathon at the Shamrock Half Marathon in March. My chip time was 1:44:23, just under my goal of 1:45. That race made me really like half marathons a lot. With my foot issues now, it’s tough to set a goal for the 2008 race, but I’d really like to beat that time. I set the bar high for myself with that race last year, but I know I can be faster.

This year has also been a great year with my 5ks. Coming into the year, my fastest 5k was 23:49, which was also my only time under 24 minutes. I broke that time twice — in June I did a 5k in 23:03 and in July I broke the 23-minute barrier with a 5k in 22:42, “winning” my age group. (I was the only one in my age group that race.)

I saw set a PR in the mile (6:26) and 5 miler (36:59), although those two distances are very hard to find in races. I struggled though the extremely cross-country style James River Xterra 10k in May, and then had serious doubts about long distances by running a 30k in October.

I finished the year with 960 miles, well short of 1,000 miles, but much farther than I’ve ever gone before. I didn’t start logging miles until the end of last year — it was always time ran before that, but I know I haven’t ran this much in a year. Despite a bad December, I’ll take an average of 80 miles a month.

I’ve accomplished more this year in running since I started running again in 2004. It’ll be a year I’ll never forget, mostly thanks to the marathon.

As for 2008, I’m starting the year by giving my heel some rest. After I de-Christmas my house and get the boxes out of my way, I’ll be doing some weight-training beginning this week. I’ll probably hold off on running for just a few more days so I can heal my heel. The end of this year has become a lot like last year — I think I want to get through the winter/early spring before making decisions on another “big” race. I definitely have the urge to do another marathon, but I don’t want to stay hurt either.

Happy New Year everybody!!

I can now say what many people never say in their lives - I am a marathoner. Even if I never do one again, I am a marathoner. Yesterday was truly an unbelievable experience. From the start to the numbness near the end, I took it all in.

The weather before the race was nice and cool. It wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be, but cold enough to start with gloves and a thin long-sleeve shirt underneath my Livestrong shirt. I planned to toss those aside when I would see my wife and family and my friend Jon at the party zones creatively set up by the Richmond Sports Backers. After I walked around a bit with everybody, I said my goodbyes and then did a little more walking around, just amazed at the thousands of people getting ready to do this. Then, fortunately, I saw a familiar face — I knew my old friend Travis (in the photo below), who I used to play basketball with, was running, but I hadn’t gotten in touch with him. But among the sea of people, there he was along with a guy he had been training with. Their goal times were between 4-4:30, so it was perfect to run this race with them.

The start of the race was odd — it just started. The speakers weren’t loud enough where we were to hear the national anthem or the gun to start the race. We were suddenly walking forward. No one was pushing or in a rush, but as soon as we hit the start line, the running began. It was nice having someone to run with — we were basically chatting about old times in Bedford and catching up on other things in life. We hit the first mile in 9:15. Everything felt great — the weather was still good and no one around us was running too hard or too slow it seemed. We hit the next two miles just under 9 minutes and kept getting that strong urge to pee. I knew I would have to at some point, but I was hoping to wait until closer to half way. But this couldn’t wait.

About half way between mile 3 and 4 I sped up to get to the port-a-potties and hope that I’d time it out where Travis and his friend would go by as I finished. It was perfect, although I ended up peeing next to the port-a-potty along with about half a dozen other guys. After a quick mile of 8:33 thanks to having to pee, we maintained a good pace by hitting the next miles at 9:16 and 9 minutes. Between miles 6 and 7 were downhill and clocked in at 8:42. I managed to take off my gloves, stuff them in my pocket, then take off the long-sleeved shirt without missing a beat. I then held onto my gloves and shirt until I spotted my group at the party zone. I had an easy hand-off of my clothes to Jon. And to my surprise, my group had made some signs — I should have never mentioned running like a gazelle last week.

The next mile made its way up a small hill to the Huguenot Bridge — the first uphill of the race and everyone stopped talking until we were crossing the bridge. It was the first chance to see the James River, and on an overcast, slightly foggy morning, it was a very awesome view. After crossing the bridge, the course went down Riverside Drive to run alongside the mighty James. It was like running on a back country road — so nice and peaceful, and the miles were just going by so quickly it seemed. Miles 8, 9 and 10 were: 9:15, 8:58, 9:20. It was a comfortable pace — basically about the same as my training pace on normal runs.

After we hit the double digits and strolled through a neighborhood and got to Forest Hill Avenue, I was wishing I had my gloves back. My hands were cold. The sun came out oh so briefly somewhere along there, but the weather, overall, was still good. When we hit the double digits, I was hoping my family made it to the next party zone at mile 12.9 so I could exchange hats. Even though I wasn’t sweating all that much, getting something drier on my head was going to be welcome. Miles 11 and 12 were in 9:04 and 9:15.

In previous races I’ve done, I rarely pay attention to the crowds, but not for this race. Everyone seemed more genuine in their support for this event. This wasn’t a race — it was an experience, and I think for many spectators it was an experience, too, rather than usual clapping and shouting “Go runners!” So, as I was in awe of the spectators, I saw my group at the next party zone from at least 50 yards away. I stopped briefly to make sure the exchange went easily. To my surprise my sister, brother-in-law and dad had made it to this stop as well. I hit mile 13 in 9:22, and hit the half-way point just under 2 hours chip time.

This whole time I had not gotten caught up in my time or trying to figure everything out with finishing at a certain time. My #1 goal was to finish and somewhere in the 4 hour range would be all the better. But it was the half-way point when I started hitting distances in a race that I hadn’t done before (that 30k just doesn’t count in my books), I realized what an experience this was turning into. This wasn’t like a 5k or the half marathon where I was worried about goal times — this was becoming a life-changing day, on top of the already life-changing training. That all being said, at halfway, I briefly thought that if I kept that pace I’d be under 4 hours, but I pushed those thoughts aside knowing that this wasn’t a race against time.

After a 9:14 mile to mile 14, I began to pull away from Travis. Conversations had pretty much stopped anyway, as the mental part of the marathon started to take over. At mile 14, I grabbed two Clif gels that were being handed out. I chewed one (I really don’t like Clif gels, but they seem to work the best) and put the other in my pocket that I took a few miles later. Up to this point I had taken two PowerBar gels at mile 2, and somewhere around mile 8 or 9. Plus I had taken an Advil at the same time of the second gel.

I did mile 15 in 9:30 when the weather started to change. Coming across the bridge back into the city, the wind was in my face. Wind? That wasn’t in the forecast, but sure enough that wind kept going and going and wasn’t in our backs for the rest of the race. It was always coming from the side or directly in our face. Between miles 15 and 16 seemed so long. Was this bridge ever going to end!! It was a great view — the James to the left, the city skyline to the right. The sun was trying to poke through again, making for some cool rays of sunshine. But along the never-ending bridge, there were no spectators, just cars whizzing by, with a few occasionally honking their horns. Surprisingly when I hit mile 16, I was just under 9:30 for the mile. That was the longest 9-plus minutes of running I had ever done.

The next few miles were nice because I was in familiar territory running by VCU and my office. As I hit mile 19, I could tell I was slowing, but everything seemed to be in check. (Mile 17-19 were 9:37, 9:46, 9:49.) My feet were hurting just a bit, but nothing major. And just before mile 20 was a hill — I dreaded that hill. It was at this point I began to see people stopping to stretch, or just flat out walk up the hill. I had come that far that I was not going to walk until the next water stop. I hit mile 20 in 10:30, then slowly walked through the water stop. Even though I had gotten lots of water or Powerade at every stop, and I was feeling great as far as thirst went, I took this water stop for all it was worth. Two cups of water and a cup of Powerade to go, please. I walked about another 100 yards taking every drop of fluid in those cups. About 10 other people were doing the same thing. And this is the point that everybody talks about — after mile 20.

Every block or so, at least one person was stretching or rubbing their legs. It was at this point, the numbness started in my legs. Nothing hurt really, except my feet just a bit. It was at this point when I started thinking about everything in my life, looking for things to push me the final few miles. My feet were hurting — my grandmother who passed away earlier this year always complained about her feet. Was this her way to keep me going? That’s what I thought.

With the walk break for the water, I hit mile 21 in 11:14. I thought it would be 15 minutes. I wasn’t looking at my watch except at the mile markers. I didn’t want to know my pace at this point. I felt like I was pushing myself, except I hit mile 22 in 10:18. I hadn’t ran a training run that slow since I was running the hills in Lynchburg. But I kept running, not looking too hard at the people stretching. I didn’t want my mind to force my legs into a cramp. I don’t remember if it was mile 22 or 23, but I walked through another water stop, grabbing two cups of water and a Powerade. I also kept cursing the wind. Miles 23 and 24 were in 10:19 and 10:17.

Less than a 5k to go, I was telling myself. I’ve ran plenty of 5ks, I can push myself through this. I had all kinds of thoughts running through my head. I thought a lot about my late Uncle John and wondered what he would’ve thought of this. It was kind of eerie, but a single ray of sunshine was poking through the clouds when I was thinking about him. It was proving the point to me that running a marathon for the first time wasn’t about what the final time was, but about this experience of putting your body through something amazing. It’s just so hard to describe.

I was trying to go faster, but I hit mile 25 in 10:40. What!?!? I was pushing myself, but I just wasn’t going faster. By this time, the numbing had spread to my arms and hands and I was freezing. Between miles 23 and 25, I was running with arms to the side, moving them up and down and squeezing my hands trying to get rid of this numbing feeling. It was like someone else was inside me doing the running, but it was my mind carrying the body along. You hear how much running is a mental thing — the final 6 miles of a marathon is 90 percent mental.

When I hit mile 25, I knew it was a little more than a mile, with much of it downhill. “It’s all downhill from here,” is what the spectators were saying. It’s easy for them to say. But as I rounded the final turn, I started seeing people who had already finished and they were showing their support for us who were finishing an hour after them. So truly the marathon does end! The final mile they kept saying … I can run faster for the final mile can’t I? Sure, I was flying, or so I thought, going down that hill. Mile 26 was 11:04. At this point, I knew I had less than a lap around a track and I wasn’t going to stop now. The last .2 miles, I managed an 8:13 pace, so yes, finally, my body was doing what my mind asked it to do.

At mile 25, I knew I wanted to beat 4:15. Finishing within 15 minutes of my ideal time would be great after 26.2 miles. I managed to have a chip time of just under 4:13. As I cross the finish line, there was no standard arms-in-the-air celebration. I think I tried, but seriously, my arms were numb from the race and the coldness. After I crossed, I just stopped for about 30 seconds and thought, I did it. I really did it. I thought maybe I’d cry, but I just didn’t have the energy to. On my first step after stopping, I was like, I can walk! I got a Mylar blanket, which immediately helped the cold feeling. I got the chip snapped off my foot — I couldn’t even lift my right leg to help out the guy cutting them off.

I grabbed my finisher’s medal, and looked back for a second — I really did it, I kept thinking. After getting the medal, I opted to skip the photo op with the SunTrust logos all over the place. I wanted to talk … or at least see a familiar face. It had been a couple of hours of silence, except for a few comments with other runners along the way. I quickly saw my wife and my dad and they asked how it was. I didn’t have an answer. I was hungry … and cold.

The unfriendliest part of America’s Friendliest Marathon is after the race. You have to walk downhill to get some food. I got a slice of pizza, a banana and a Powerade, then walked back up the hill. I warmed up briefly in the host hotel lobby, and I was ready to go home. I still didn’t know what to say about my experience. I briefly looked for Travis afterward, and for fellow blogger Jason, but it was just too cold and windy to stick around. I think most people around there felt the same way.

So, while I could still walk reasonably well, I took a shower while my wife ordered pizza for my mom and stepdad and Jon (and me). I came downstairs and rolled The Stick over my legs. I began telling a few stories about my experience, but it was still hard to put into words. More than 24 hours later, it’s still hard to come up with the proper words as to what it meant to me and what it was like. The physical parts are easy — I can barely walk. I slept downstairs just because I didn’t want to walk down them early this morning. My elbows are actually sore — after running for 4 hours, I guess it makes sense. I actually am less sore than I thought I would be, but it’s still not pleasant. Last night I would sleep for a couple hours, wake up, physically pick my legs up and put them in a different position and repeat 2 hours later.

But as far as what this does to me mentally … it’ll take a while to put into words. I want to again thank everyone for their support these past few months, and for coming out yesterday. It means so much to me.

So, now what? At one point this summer, I swore off training for a marathon again. But that was when it was 90 degrees and had a horrible long run. Training is the hard part — the experience of the marathon is priceless. It’s a time commitment that I don’t have right now or next summer. I miss my weekends, and I have a house that I’d like to spend time on next summer. I really like half marathons from a racing standpoint, and that’s what I’m focusing on next in March. Like I said last year at this time, any decision on a marathon is going to have to wait.

I’ll take this PR and this experience for all its worth. If I never do another one, I have absolutely no regrets on what has happened in the past few months and yesterday. If I could do yesterday all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing (except for keeping my gloves). I can’t ask for anything better than this feeling I have right now. I am a marathoner.