CIM Post Marker

 

A place holder until I can write up my notes on training and the race.

Doctors and Swimming and Knees, Oh, My!

Monday I'll visit the HMO-approved orthopedist. Here's hoping this fine medical fellow approves my MRI. I wanna know whaz'sup with my knees. Besides, swimming is becoming dangerous. My health club pool turned into a free-for-all yesterday. Are Friday's Savage Swim Days? I'm not sure. But between machine-like swimmers tearing up the lanes, big fat men bobbing aimlessly like rogue planets, very pregnant women attempting to organize the chaos, and teenagers determined to jack the chaos up to professional levels, I was grateful to escape the water unmarked. Sunday morning, I'm taking a "swim test" with an organization set up to assist the older swimmer. I think they want to see how many laps I can do without swallowing half the pool. Then they make recommendations such as lessons or finding another sport. I could be looking at no running for months. So, it's time to find out what I can do and do it.

Just not on Fridays.   

My Sucky Swimming

Had to meet some friends out in the San Gabriel Valley this afternoon. My health club is on the way, so I stopped for an hour of swimming. First I kickboarded 20 lengths. This was harder than it looked, at least for me.  Then I swam freestyle for awhile, but have terrible form and end up gasping for air at the end of every length. I didn't swallow water, but maybe that'll come if I swim more often.

Hurry up MRI!

Tubby Man in a Doctor's Office

That's me. I was weighed at the doctor's office yesterday and the technician giggled and asked if I had recently performed in any aquatic parks. (Later, I "accidentally" spilled urine on her shoe.) But there's no denying that in six months of injury, I've put on 20 pounds. Now I must commit to losing weight. I'm so unmotivated, but I really don't want to go back to 244 pounds with ridges of fat on my back like sand dunes. So, off to the gym today, then my wife and I will order in pizza . . . maybe not for a few weeks.

Running and Coyotes

Fie upon these fallow knees! I went out and ran for 45 minutes today over at Griffith Park. Staying on soft dirt trails, I would run for a minute and walk for two. A few twinges here and there, but overall the knees felt fine. Tomorrow will tell. I'll probably ice tonight just to be safe.

Finishing my run around dusk, I saw a coyote amble across the road past my jeep - just taking his sweet old time, big bushy tail dragging behind. He joined another coyote and they, in turn, hooked up with a third. Their needle snouts pointed in the direction of the Merry-Go-Round parking lot and I wondered if some poor woman was walking her dog up there.

I think the park has too many coyotes. Perhaps one day a famous person will announce on TV that he's eaten a coyote and that it tasted real good. (Maybe not like chicken but more like turkey loaf.) Then people will sneak into Griffith Park and pot coyotes for supper. I'll bet hats with bushy tails become popular with the ladies. Let's hope for this, or the introduction of a colossal coyote-eating bird, because there are a lot of tasty coyotes going to waste with tummies full of pets.

Knee Update and Fast Old Man

In Japan, a 60-year-old man ran a marathon in two-hours and thirty-eight minutes. That's like, freaking impossible. Yet, he did it anyway, breaking an 18-year world age group record. Congratulations to Yoshihisa Hosaka. You are a cool dude.

Meanwhile, my running recovery mines untapped levels of diagnosis. The orthopaedist I saw yesterday suggested torn knee cartilage. An MRI would clear matters up. For cost reasons, I must first try and convince my new HMO doctor to authorize such a procedure. Perhaps I'll succeed this time. I can use the savings to fly to Japan and hang out with Hosaka. How do you run that fast, man? How do you run . . . period. Let's watch "Silent Library."

Knee Zap

While performing a mundane household task, I felt a sharp knee pain. Sharp pains are usually serious pains, meaning some manner of stop-running injury. As my HMO is the medical equivalent of Jiffy Lube, I've decided to pay my old doctor cash for X-rays and a diagnosis.

In the meantime, I'll pretend I really did want to swim more.

Angeles Forest Run

A wee 5.1 mile run up into the hills past a reconstructed bridge, beyond the fossilized remains of the Elmer Smith bridge, across three rock-strewn streams up to the Gould campground. I said 'hi' to a bearded homeless guy who looked like Z Z Top, reading the paper as I trotted past. At a spectacular cactus patch that rose up like a hydra, I turned around. My run/walk ratio was a modest one minute running per two minutes walking. But my knees felt healthy and vibrant like knees should.

If all stays well, I'll slowly build up mileage to around 20 - 25 miles a week. Once there, I'll begin working on speed.

Meanwhile, MDW and I went car shopping on Saturday. We looked at the Rav4, Jeep Liberty, and Nissan Pathfinder. Deals abound.