Douche

Warning: This post is not about a cleansing product for vaginas.

Moving on.

Jealous people are mean. There always has to be a douche bag in the group, and it’s usually the guy who’s green with envy.

Take, for example, columnist Dave Hollander’s recent article, “Are New York Marathoners Athletes?”

Dave and his like-minded turd friend, C.J. Sullivan, have a deep discussion on this topic and come to the conclusion that

• “While the elite runners are something to watch, the 36,500 other fools” are not athletes.
• The NYC Marathon is “like a parade of badly clad folks sucking wind an struggling up First Avenue.”
• While “running 26 miles is some kind of torturous accomplishment, the runners are not athletes. It (running a marathon) smacks of narcissism, not sport. Marathons are the last refuge for those that couldn’t cut it  in other sports.”
• “Any knucklehead in decent shape can train and then run 26 miles in under 4 or 5 hours. It means you are in shape it doesn’t make you an athlete.”

Hang on here. It’s 26 point TWO miles. Don’t forget the point two. And don’t call us “badly clad folks.” Haven’t you seen the new running skirts? And tattoo arm sleeves? Don’t forget the lime green compression socks.

All of this trash talk took me to do some research on Mr. Hollander. Here’s some trivia:

• He sings national anthem at major sporting events.
• He holds his high school’s record for technical fouls in a season and a career

Dang, that guy is special. He is clearly a running expert. However, I can’t find anything that talks of how he has ever trained for or been able to run a marathon. Maybe he left it off his bio.

It cracks me up to think of these two middle aged dudes (who probably can’t run more than five miles), hanging out and picking on those of us who are trying to be healthy, to find purpose, to have goals. Go criticize Al Qaeda or Lindsey Lohan if you’re bored.

I’m not stupid. I get what he’s trying to do. Be offensive and provocative and thereby gain readers and attention. It’s an age-old trick. I've used it from time to time:

Babies are stupid! All they do is roll around and drool. They should be banned or kicked in the head!

That was like my most popular post ever.

Hollander does bring up an interesting, although dull, point. How do we define athlete? If you want to go old school, the straight Miriam Webster definition is: “a person who is trained or skilled in exercises, sports, or games requiring physical strength, agility, or stamina.”

Let’s see – to run 26.2 miles you need to be trained, and you need to have physical strength agility and/or stamina. Check. Marathoner = athlete.

Boulder Center for Sport’s Medicine thinks, “If you’re active, you’re an athlete.” In fact, it’s part of their slogan.

Mr. Hollander, do you have to run five minute miles to be an athlete? Maybe you need to earn 10 million dollars a year and be sponsored. Or have been on the cover of Sport’s Illustrated. Or have been interviewed in your book.

To me, the bigger issue is not if marathoners are athletes or not. I really don’t care. You can call yourself whatever you want. That you believe it is all it counts. Today, I am a buxom super model. YES! What I don't like about his bullshit article is that it smacks of jealousy and negativity. And, he thinks a marathon is 26 miles and that we don’t dress well. Dick.

One thing I do agree slightly with is that we marathoners can get a bit self involved. Blisters, chafing, crapping in bushes, cramps, long runs gone bad, fatigue, scheduling, you name it. The key is to share with the like minded people that are dong the same thing. I don’t bore my non-running friends with my tales of woe. I save that for you on this blog. And my mom.

I just bet Hollander has a really small penis.

Are marathoners athletes in your book?

Always an athlete but I never douche,

SUAR

PS: Here’s me at the store last night. Things are really going south with this injury.

Blame what? The ankle bracelet? The dark roots? The Daisy Dukes?

Shut Up and Listen

Want me to blow your socks off? I mean, in a non-dirty way?

Did you know that 65% of endurance runners are injured during an average year? The number goes up to 85% for elite runners {source}. The 65% might actually be higher for those training for marathons.

I don’t tell you this to make you want to kill yourself.

Given those statistics, more than half of us are hobbling around with some sort of injury related to running. Maybe it’s a stress fracture (like me) and you are out for months, or maybe your knee is talking back to you and you need to simply RICE (rest, ice compression, elevation) for a couple of days. Whatever the case, anyone give you flack for wanting to continue to run?

Runners get it. They expect to incur aches, pains, etc. and to  return to running better and stronger. Who doesn’t get it? Aunt Gertrude sitting in her La-Z-Boy chair smoking cigarettes. “Running is bad for you. Look what it’s doing to your body. You should quit.” Oh yeah, Auntie, kind of like those cigarettes are doing to you.

In other words, many of the people in our lives who love us and care about our well-being simply don’t understand why we keep running before, during and after we get hurt. What I have realized is they probably never will, and it’s not necessary to keep arguing about it. My token answer is to make light of it by saying something like, “I know you love me and it seems insane to you that I do this to my body. I guess I’m just crazy that way.”

All kidding aside, we still need to be careful with our bodies. This means understanding why we get injured and what we can do to (maybe) prevent problems in the future. It may not be as easy as changing your form or taking more calcium. It might involve a lifestyle and attitude adjustments.

I read a great article recently titled, “Unlocking the Runner Within Without Taking a Step.*” The author, an avid runner, asks the question, “What would happen if running were taken away from me? If I could no longer do what I’ve come to depend on for physical fitness, mental clarity as well as a sense of identity and community? Would I become depressed? Get fat? Be somehow less of an athlete?”

These are precisely the difficult questions I’ve had to ask myself since being sidelined with a hip stress fracture for the past month.

The reality is that I’m getting older, almost 44, and my body is talking back a bit. I could smack it upside the head and tell it to shut up or I could listen. Okay, maybe shut up and listen.

As the author states, “I’ve found moderation to be a very helpful approach to most things in life. Food. Wine, Watching reruns of 90210. And exercise. It took me a long time to get there with running, to stop being so rigid about what I had to do. I’m still working on it and probably always will be. But whereas I once believed putting in fewer miles or, gasp, taking  day off, would make me a lazy wimp. I’ve come to discover that it actually makes my runs better.”

Moderation? With running? Blech. But, I have goals! More is better! It is a tough concept when you are an overachiever.

Let’s face it. Moderation doesn’t sound sexy or glamorous. It sounds safe, almost as if you’re giving in. So, if it’s the word that sucks, let’s get rid of it. How about balance? Yep, sounds more positive, contemporary.

The concept of balance looks different for everyone. For me, it may mean going back to three days of running per week with extensive cross training. This worked for me in the past and kept me healthy. It may also mean choosing my races and paces carefully, and cutting myself a break if each race is not a PR or if I miss a planned run.

Once I am healthy, will I really do this? Hard to say. It’s kind of like the jewel thief in prison rehab who has the best of intentions, but get her into a jewelry store on the outside and let’s see what happens.

Finding and implementing balance takes extreme discipline. It’s hard to take care of ourselves sometimes, mostly because we don’t always know when we’re out of whack and overindulging or doing too much. Or, sometimes we do know, but we get so much benefit from doing those things, we don’t stop. Bottom line is, change is hard and takes an extreme motivator like injury or illness or loss to really kick us in the butt.

Some very wise person recently told me that I have my whole life to run, so I don't have to jam it all into a couple of years. (Thanks, Dana).

Do non-runners give you a hard time about your running, especially when injuries arise? Do you practice moderation/balance with your running?

It’s not always about poop around here,

SUAR

*Thanks to Bill H. for sending me this article.