Course Support

Most of my loyal readers are aware of the fact that I have spent the better part of the previous 4 months in the pursuit of a long standing goal. And I am very proud to say that on October 14th, I successfully completed the Hartford Half Marathon.

To many people I know, that is not a ridiculous feat. I have lots of friends who have done this or have run a full marathon in the time it took me to do the half. However, this was a big undertaking for me.

I am not a runner. I never have been. I used to have a doctor’s note to get out of running the mile in gym class. Visits to the ER for breathing issues were not uncommon in my youth. My dad used to carry paper bags in the basketball bag as I would inevitably need them to control my hyperventilating during time outs.

I make up for my running shortcomings by being a stubborn asshole. So despite the chronic breathing problems and two bum knees, I decided to give it a shot.

Finding time to fit in training was a little more challenging then I would have thought. The first step would be running outside. I am not a big fan of running outside. First off, it is harder. Second, the controlled environment of the gym provides me shelter from the elements and allows me to breath. Always a plus in my book. Despite these minor issues, I mapped out routes, laced on my sneakers and hit the pavement.

My family and friends were incredibly supportive throughout the whole process. When I did my 9 mile run around town, Mom & Dad were mile 2 water stop. The Midge was stationed at mile 5. Eboogie provided me with water and conversation at mile 8. The girls bought me good luck socks and presented me with a sample of the energy drink on the course before hand.

Race day was here before I knew it. I was terrified. When the family called me Saturday morning to tell me they were waiting in the parking lot for me, I walked out a bundle of nerves to the best sites one can imagine. There were “T”, Gail B, Eboogie and Moose singing “Eye of the Tiger” while wearing matching shirts with my face on them. I cried.

Once in the park, I felt my nerves calm a little. There were lots of friendly faces and warm wishes. When that gun went off, I welled up again thinking of how much effort it had taken me to get to that start line. Or maybe it was the anticipation of the 13.1 miles I realized I would now have to run.

I was cruising along through mile 5 when I got the first really nasty knee twinge. I got nervous. This had happened to me the first time on a 9 mile run and it had laid me out for two weeks. I knew from experience it was only going to get worse. I pumped up the volume on my Rocky soundtrack and pushed on. At mile 7, the iPod stopped working. Kept pushing.

I always hear that there is a point during the race when you realize that you are going to make it to the finish. I reached this point as I passed mile 12. It was the oddest feeling.

When I ran under the arch and into the park and head my family cheering, I started to cry. This was it, I was actually going to finish. Holy shit.

I finished in a time a lot slower then I had anticipated. I didn’t get a medal. Throughout the process, I had to ice the knees, felt horrible pain and got up at 8:00 am on Saturday mornings to train. After one long training run, I had a headache for 10 days.

Despite all that, the scary part is that I enjoyed every part of the experience and I am already looking for my next race.

Autumn...Mato Style

This past weekend, I rang in the official start of autumn with the most New England of traditions. For the second year in a row, Eboogie and I were invited to partake in the annual apple picking festivities of the Mato Family.

The Mato's (not unlike the McDougall's) are a loud, raucous bunch who love to eat, fight, yell and party. Needless to say Eboogie and I fit right in.

Once we arrived at the house to effusive hugs and kisses, we all caravanned off to the orchard in search of the perfect apples and pumpkins. This was where 3 mature, professional adults reverted back to the biggest of children. The proof is in the pictures.

After our detour, we soon realized that we were no longer in the company of the rest of the Mato family and that out large apple bag was in fact, empty. We decided to hunker down and get to work.

We encountered one more road block in our attempt to pick the best apples….

We were undeterred as we made the decision to be rebels as the rules simply do not apply to us.

First off…climbing trees…

Second…running behind the yellow tape to covet off limit apples…


After more debaucherous apple picking behavior (which included a little dance number inside a large apple crate) we found our bag was full. And heavy. And we were in the middle of a field a long way from the car. The promise of cider doughnuts and hitting up the pumpkin patch prompted us to move forward with a vengeance. Even Mato kept up, surprising given the origin of her nickname.

We put down our heavy bags and went in search of pumpkins. Unlike Mato who was overly enthused by ever pumpkin, I seemed to have had a little rage in the pumpkin patch. I was looking for little pumpkins and found the size discrimination overtly present in the patch to be infuriating and worthy of my rage.

Once I found the little pumpkins, I calmed down enough to get into the car to caravan back to the house where our efforts were rewarded with food, glorious food. After the three course dinner, there were a plethora of yummy apple desserts baked from our newly acquired booty. And they were delicious.

Eboogie and I bid adieu to the Mato family...until next year of course!