The BUHDOODA TIMES
LINES FOR BONO CONCERT GROW
The Latest Line in The Capital
Famous Musician, Bono, will be touring through the DUHDOODA Alliance in the coming weeks. News of the fame Irishman sent panic throughout as tickets were sold faster than a iced bottle of water in the middle of July in Iraq.
"I just didn't think I was going to get any," one lucky man told us, clutching a set of tickets for him and his wife. Another man, badly beaten, told us that "they came outta no where. Bunch of U2 fans just jumped me and stole my tickets! I could have used a spy plane to see it coming."
As the Scotsman comes closer from his tour in Pacifica, the lines have grown longer for any possible tickets. Some have referred this to the "Great Bonossion."
Chris Rock, speaking for the government, urged citizens to remain calm as the Welshman approaches. "And if ya don't, we gonna cap y'all."
MULTI-CAR WRECK RUINS PARADE
RAW IMAGE OF THE ACCIDENT
A accident, totaling of 251 cars, 56 rigs, 19 buses, and 1 pogo stick, has resulted in the deaths of 3,297 drivers, passengers, and paraders. The horrible accident happened while the annual "People Against Car Abuse" Parade was heading down the interstate.
As of press time, nobody is sure of where all the cars came from, and investigators are currently picking through the rubble for clues.
The government has sent a request of aid from neighboring nations.
Recently, I've been thinking about the subject of this article. What implicit authority do ambassadors and representatives of alliances have when speaking to foreign alliances? This may seem at first trivial, but it's actually quite important. It matters when it comes to alliances' responsibility for what their representatives say. Here we will delve into this question and attempt to work out an answer.
All authority is either explicit or implicit. Explicit authority is that which is granted directly by someone with the legitimate ability to do so. But explicit authority is easily revoked and in any event, it isn't the kind of authority that usually gets anyone into trouble because it is so clearly defined by its very nature. There isn't much room for error.
Implicit authority on the other hand is much murkier. It isn't based on the decrees of another (organization or individual) but rather on the context of both the position a person holds and other factors such as a given situation. While it can vary depending on situation, what will be discussed here is the minimum level of implicit authority representatives can be assumed to have because without it their jobs would effectively be impossible or at least unreasonably difficult.
So what is this minimum amount of implicit authority representatives are vested with? Well it is reasonable to figure all representatives are plenipotentiaries. A plenipotentiary is an individual who has the authority to speak on behalf of the sovereign (i.e., the State or, in the case of CN, the Alliance). Of course, this is not entirely true. For example, we rarely think of alliance members who serve as representatives as implicitly holding the power to negotiate or sign treaties, declare war, make peace, or do any of the more high level actions alliances are capable of performing. That said, while representatives may not ordinarily have the authority to do these things, they can certainly speak (but not act) on behalf of their alliances. Their alliance has sent them to represent it to another, and if the receiving alliance cannot take what this person says as representative of the alliance, why would it even bother to talk with said person in any official capacity. The sending alliance then may as well have not sent this person at all because without the authority to speak on behalf of their alliance, which is the whole point of sending representatives, the person cannot do her job.
So onto why this matters. Because representatives are speaking for their alliances, their alliances can be held responsible for anything that they say to a foreign alliance. Of course, an alliance can revoke its representatives' authority to speak for it, but it is responsible for anything said before that point. Responsibility is a measure of how much praise or blame a person deserves for words or actions, and if alliances are not responsible for what their representatives say, then what their representatives say is trivial and pointless. They may be nominally speaking on behalf of their alliance but it isn't substantive speech. If representatives cannot engage in substantive speech, they cannot do their jobs as substantive speech is the only kind that matters to the receiving alliance. Niceties and basic polite conversation are fine, but in order to engage with an alliance through its representatives (which is the whole point of receiving and talking to representatives), representatives must be capable of saying things that genuinely mean something, and how can anything they say mean anything for relations between alliances if one alliance is wholly removed from anything that is said? The answer is that it can't.
Representatives must be capable of speaking on behalf of their alliances to do their job, and speaking on an alliance's behalf necessarily entails that the alliance can be held responsible for what is said in its name, for good or for bad, for praise or for blame.
First off, to those of you amongst the peanut gallery that are tired of micro drama or that are ROFLing about this one in particular, please accept my sincerest apologies. I realize how terribly engrossing your lives are, what with your treaty announcements, milestones, and infra-hugging in preparation for your once-a-year war. If only we ALL embraced the status quo perhaps this world would be at a mere 6000 nations. Think of how fun it would be then!
Alas, our unwillingness to simply exist means we find ourselves at war from time to time. And what an interesting little war we've found if for no other reason than neither side is budging. Uninvolved parties are rife with misconceptions, from the mild ("Both sides are saying they're winning!") to the wild ("They want wonder decommissioning!"). That's to be expected. What's surprising is when the other combatants themselves, either due to lack of communication or willful misrepresentation, seem to be equally clueless. Apparently an education is in order.
To understand why Kashmir is unrelenting one must first understand why we went to war in the first place.
Kashmir, you see, believes in the value of punitive actions. We generally go to war because we feel wronged and because we feel someone must pay for their misgivings. We do not go to war seeking empty apologies, reparations, or anything equally trivial or meaningless. In this case we went to war with Monsters Inc because of the sum of hostile, reckless actions that weathered the patience of members and friends alike and culminated in them hitting our close allies in SRA. Elsewhere, I eventually gave the greenlight on Limitless Nexus because Methrage was spreading screenshots from our private forums. That comes with the territory to an extent - we're an open, transparent alliance after all - but if you're going to actively work against us more likely than not you're going to get more than you bargained for.
Ultimately, how does one judge when a punitive action has been successfully carried out?
Sure, MInc and LN are a fraction of their former sizes (the former is 16.4% the size they were a month ago and the latter 38.4%), and sure, all but a single member in their ranks - Jonesing - is broke and/or relying entirely on aid to subsist (the number of financially capable nations triples if you include CA, who Kashmir is not presently at war with). The enemy seems to think that their out-of-context damage ratio - a whopping 1.08:1 in their favor (which amounts to 7% more damage inflicted) - trumpets winning conditions. Clearly, as subjective of a concept as winning is in this game, the Limitless Coalition is anything but.
Truth be told, I'm perhaps a bigger white peace proponent than most. If the enemy admitted it's defeated then perhaps we would be more amenable. If the enemy though won't make such an admission then our work clearly isn't done. That these bruised and battered micros are promising perma-war is ultimately inconsequential.
It is what it is. This is why we fight.
I'm looking for a drink
In 2005, I was in Moscow, and we went to this restaurant called Myu Myu; it was like a Russian Golden Coral, buffet, big fiberglass cow on top of the roof.
I accidentally picked up the translator's glass and drank his drink, and he gave me a weird look, like he was expecting something. I asked what it was and he said it was kvass and apologized. I said what for, it was really good, which amazed him.
Now: The drink at Myu Myu was thick, pink-ish, kind of sweet, and a little malty.
So, I convinced the translator to sneak off to the grocery store with me, and I bought 4 litres of kvass to bring home.
I opened a bottle on the plane, and an attendant bumrushed me to tell me there was no alcohol allowed, I saw her nametag was Polish, so I said, it's just kvass, and her eyes got big as saucers and she said "oh, you're American? You LIKE kvass?" And I told her I did.
Then I poured a cup, and it was brown, thin, and sour. And it was disgusting.
Are any of you Russian and/or do any of you have any idea what I drank? I've wanted more for 10 years.
I get a lot of questions about what my training plan looks like, since I seem to be always doing... well... something. My comments of 'heading out for a run/bike/swim/climb/yoga/etc is usually met with, "Didn't you just do that, like... yesterday?" And in most cases - yeah. Pretty much. I develop all my training plans myself, off of plans and research that pros and coaches publish. I also put together all my own workouts, mainly for swimming - they range anywhere from just under a mile to almost 3 miles. It's really awesome to be able to write up your own schedule instead of just downloading one from the internet and trying to plod through it. That sucks. Believe me. So with that intro, here's a look into my next two months, prepping for IM Lake Tahoe in September, four races in October, and a marathon in November.
Now... normally I would get crucified for the lack of rest days in this schedule. You normally want at least one per week. Luckily, climbing has become sort of an active recovery for me. I boulder, which takes very little leg work and utlizies mostly upper body, so my legs can rest without getting tight. I consider it an active rest day. Writing up a training plan while trying to work around additional races can be a challenge - especially with back to back races, like I have in the beginning of August. You need to make sure you rest enough to prepare for the races, but you also need to make sure you're still growing your training to prepare for the next races you have coming up after them (which in this case, is 6 in the following 3 months). My schedule ends in November with a blissful two weeks of doing nothing. And I seriously mean nothing. I will sit on my couch, eat popcorn, and watch netflix. It will be glorious.
The races coming up:
The Krista Greisacker Adventure Race was kind of a last minute addition. This will be my first adventure race ever... and I probably didn't pick the best one to start out with. It's a 12 hour race, and ranges from 50-80 miles. Your mileage depends on how many checkpoints you get and how lost you end up. The idea of an adventure race is that you start at one location with no idea where you're going. You have to navigate using a bit of checkpoint data they give you to try and make your way through the course. We're going to be trail running, mountain biking, kayaking, and even possibly some climbing and rappelling depending on where we end up. It's all self-supported (no aid stations), so it should be interesting. This one is a total wildcard for me and I don't really know what to expect. The good news, is that I'll be able to write up a fantastic race report afterwards, as I am going to screw it up so bad. Really.
The Steelman Aquavelo is my copout (kind of?) for feeling like I'm not healthy enough yet to run long distances (which is horrendously ironic since I will literally be trail running anywhere from 8-20 miles the weekend before). An Aquavelo is just a race that is just swimming and cycling. This particular one is a .9 mile swim and a 24 mile bike. If I can clear up my tendonitis in my foot (which will not f$%king die), then I may bump back up to the Olympic tri. Not sure yet. I basically just don't want to FUBAR myself for my remaining races this year. That. Would. Blow.
This entry wasn't necessarily as exciting as the others, but hopefully it gave some kind of insight into the work and mild dedication it takes to (decently) complete the races I've been posting about. Similarly, if you need help or get interested in how to develop your own training plan for something, let me know.
tl;dr:... Basically, send me snacks. Please. My legs are hungry.
Hello, my friends. I'm looking for a new alliance. I did leave SNX in good standings and no I didnt leave it cause it look to be a sinking ship I loved those people. Pretty much I'm looking to streatch my legs and try something new and what not. So I left and I am looking for the best recruitment message. best one and i'll sign up. What do you get with jrkee (keeology) well let me tell you! an active guy who is fun and is willing to help out where ever he can.
This past weekend, I raced Ironman 70.3 Eagleman in Cambridge, Maryland. For those of you that aren't aware, a 70.3 distance is a 1.2 mile swim, a 56 mile bike, and a 13.1 mile run. First of all, I'd like to offer my condolences to anyone that races anything in Kansas. I imagine that racing in Kansas feels exactly the same as racing in eastern Maryland, except for the fact that Maryland has trees, which are frustratingly far away and offer absolutely no shade. Seriously, screw those trees.
For race start, I was in wave six (out of like…. 22), so I started pretty early in the pack. Most of the fast people were behind me, including my fiance, who started almost a full hour behind me. There were strong benefits and drawbacks to this, which I’ll detail some other time. When it came time for our wave, they were running a minute or two behind, so they decided to rush our wave. It was horrendous. To get to the swim start, you walked down this enclosed boat ramp, waded out into the water, and walked another 100 yards or so to the start buoys. When they set off the cannon for our wave, most of us were still on the ramp, in shin deep water. A woman looked at me, panicked, and yelled “WAS THAT FOR US?” and I said, “… I actually think it was”, and we all rushed over each other to try to get into the water enough to swim. It probably added at least 2 or 3 minutes onto my swim time. Oh well. The swim was the most enjoyable portion of the race for me. I took it at an easy and calm pace, and punched a jellyfish half way through for good measure (I’m not kidding on that – I seriously punched a jellyfish by accident. Oops).
The bike course is something that I feel Ironman could probably market to Gitmo as an alternative to unethical torture. It was honestly the most mind numbing bike I have ever done in my life. 56 miles of excruciatingly flat roads and fields… and a swamp. Then more fields again… then hey! Another swamp. No elevation change, just 3.5 hours or so in the hot sun, with the same scenery over, and over, and over. There were no landmarks to gauge yourself off of, no prominences to get any kind of recovery on… if you stopped pedaling, and you stopped moving. Period. It was about 10 miles into this bike that I realized that my watch never started. I have no idea how this happened, since I started it on the swim and watched it start counting. The only thing I can think of is that it somehow got kicked and reset while I was in the water. I don’t know. Around mile 24 of the bike, I passed an aid station and grabbed a bottle of water from them. They were handing out huge Aquafina bottles, with the cap tops, and you would grab one from a volunteer while you road through at a slow enough speed. Their trash drop zones, however, were miniscule. If you were holding a pace that was barely enough to fall over, you could get about two drinks out of these things before you needed to throw them. I didn’t have any other space on my bike to carry them, so I was trying to get it in and chuck them before I passed the sign. The first one, I stopped, used the rest of it to fill up my bottle, and was good. When I hit the stop at mile 24, my bottle was still full. Instead, I was positively baking in the heat, and wanted to dump it over my head to get cool. So I grab this bottle, wrestle the cap open, take a swig, and close my eyes for a second to dump it over my head. It must have been in this three second window of my eyes being closed that I passed the “last chance drop” sign…. Because I opened my eyes, saw a sign about two hundred yards up, assumed it was the drop sign, and tossed my bottle off to the side into an obnoxiously large pile of bottles next to a trash bag. I was maybe 50-100 yards from the aid station, at the very most. The second it leaves my hand, one of the refs (who could probably win an award for meanest ref ever) is literally screaming my number out and flashing a blue card at me. I’m baffled, and asked what in the world I did. She tells me to pull over at the penalty tent ahead and she’d explain it to me. Apparently I must have JUST passed the sign when I tossed my bottle, and she hit me with a littering penalty and lectured me for ‘harming the integrity of the course’. I was livid and kept telling her that I didn’t see the sign, and thought the sign ahead was the ‘last drop sign’ (it wasn’t, it was the penalty tent sign). She sends another guy over and he hands me a stopwatch and tells me to sit for 5 minutes. So, I sat there for my 5 minutes with about 20 other people they’d called for various reasons, all waiting out our 5 minutes or doing our check-ins before we could go. While we’re sitting there, a dude literally cycles by and throws his open bottle AT THE PENALTY TENT. Like… threw it directly at the ref. Water splash at all. My instant reaction was ‘that guy is so screwed’. And… they just let him cycle on by. Cue frustration rise. Just before this happened, I was considering just calling it quits because I wasn’t feeling the race so much. This whole incident didn’t really help, but I was so eager to get away from that woman that I cycled away as soon as my five minutes were up and just kept going. My pace dropped a bit, but oh well. This same ref later called six or seven people in a row for drafting (including my fiance) and sent them all to sit for 5 minutes as well. They got a ton of people on the new drafting rules, since they lengthened the amount of space you’re supposed to leave, and shortened up the time you have to pass. Basically… I have never been so excited to get to the run portion of a race, ever. It’s usually my least favorite part. Not this time! Though it was certainly the most difficult. Last bike tidbit – around mile 40, an older gentleman cycled up along side of me, slowed down to the same pace and said, “Looks like we only have a few miles to go and we’re doing great!”. He looked completely fresh and seemed like he was just out for a Sunday ride, but was probably pulling close to 20-22 miles an hour before he slowed down to match me. After I responded, he picks up speed back up and speeds ahead of me, and I look at the age on his left leg – 85 years old. I was completely in awe.
When I got back into transition, I decided to totally disregard time and sat there for a good, comfy 5 minutes taking my time, stretching, relaxing, and contemplating how ridiculously hot it was. One person’s bike computer registered the temperature high in transition at 106 degrees (and around 80-90% humidity). Once I got up and started to walk (my lack of urgency was at an all time high) I realized that I was having issues in my chest. For those of you that aren’t aware, I am actually medically allergic to exercise. My body is allergic to one of the chemicals your body produces during strenuous physical activity. I take medicine for it that usually blunts my reaction, but – oh joy! – my medicine loses its effectiveness with heat. So by the time I got to the run portion and it was in the mid 90’s with a heat index in the 100’s, my medicine was fairly non-existent, and I was starting to feel the beginnings of an anaphylactic reaction. My chest was extremely tight, I couldn’t get that much air in, and my heart rate was in the 130’s to 140’s just walking at a normal pace. So… I walked. The first three miles were spent calming my heart rate down, trying to stretch my chest and lessen the reaction, and dousing myself with all available ice water to try and cool my core temperature. By mile 4, I was able to jog a bit, but it was a very on/off kind of thing. Much more off than on. My fiance caught me around this time and asked me how I was doing, to which I shrugged. He looked at me and said, “Do you hate this right now?” and I said, “… Yeah, kind of.” and he goes, “Yeah, it’s okay, I hate this too”, and laughed (which was music to my ears – I was worried it was just me). At mile 11, a woman at an aid station offered to dump an entire bucket of ice water over my head. It was an absolute godsend, and shocked my system back to some kind of normal. I spent the last two miles running through every sprinkler and hose I could find, and finished the race running and completely drenched. I was probably more soaked when I finished than when I came out of the swim.
Final thoughts…. I saw so many people taken off the course in ambulances from heat stroke, so I’m just happy I finished. I was way, way slower than my goal time of sub 7 hours, but with the way my run (or lack of run?) went, I knew it wasn’t possible. Similarly, watching 85% of the racers walk the majority of the run course made me feel like I couldn’t really have done any better. I will probably never do this race again, but I’ll give the 70.3 distance a few more shots before I write myself off as a shorter distance triathlete. That heat was just absolutely killer. Next 70.3 up is the exact opposite – cold, mountainous Tahoe in September. And if you hung in this long... I owe you one. Moral of the story is - do a 70.3 race. You might just get to punch a jellyfish.
To LN, my apologies, what I did a few days ago was uncalled for and inappropriate.
Yet, Methrage is still a ding a ling who needs mental help, but yeah.. what I did was wrong. I am old enough to know better, which is why I deleted what I posted in the place that I posted it.
Notice the title wasn't "how to save planet bob". Reasoning is that it isn't dying- in fact, it's just in a bear market. "But it's a text-based game"... sure it is, and angry birds was a big hit in 2011 (it doesn't matter) and Planet Bob will thrive again, mark my words.
First, let's get this off my chest, I find it counterproductive for older players to hold "let's save planet bob discussions" and then turn around and poke fun at "micro drama". As heard on the Apethy Report, the issue isn't about recruiting, it's about player retention. Enough nations join CN, keeping them around is hard. New Nations aren't welcome on Planet Bob.
They weren't in the GOONs 1.0 war, they weren't in the equilibrium war, they haven't conspired to 13 treaties with sanctioned alliances, they suck, 'hail pacifica'.
It isn't the new players keeping things stagnate- it's the old ones.
What's the point of a world war anyway? Most older nations have such a big war chest and they plan to fight 6 months and the world war ends in 3 months and then they go another 9 months back-collecting. The point is that there isn't any excitement. There are plenty of 4999 infra nations out there these days that have billions of dollars in their war chest. All war is to them is a couple of clicks an evening- rebuild after, rinse, repeat. World Wars are not personal.
With that being said, where is your back against the wall? The thrill of the fight? Not knowing if your nation will make it through? The comradely of your friends coming to have your back....
A bad defeat is better than a good back collect.
Politics are largely driven by power dynamics, the master-slave relationship, and the economic or political gains that result from war. It is said simply, that the politics of Planet Bob are those centered around theoretical global conflicts that could be created at any moment. Originally, these were created naturally through legitimate CB's as alliances tried to leverage political power over each other. In the Post-Karma era, it became increasingly less possible for alliances to make significant political moves due to a combination of a "lack of justification" and due to the decreasing size of the game. In the NpO-PB war, a fabricated CB was created in order to bind a coalition of like-minded individuals who sought to continue to retain status quo. Over the next few years, the then Hegemony, the Mushroom Kingdom - dominated war by centering it around the mechanics of the game itself. They allied themselves to the upper tier and with other members of the overall powers at be - continued to orchestrate "safe wars" ie: wars that were guaranteed victories. (Grudge War, Dave War). While MK faded from the alliance listings with its disbandment, DBDC and the former parts of MK's sphere would continue to play by these rules (Doom War) while the New Pacific Order would mainly focus on stability and increasing the ties between power centers in the web. The Beer-O-Sphere spent its time largely trying to reach out (poorly) to these "two sides" that were far more interconnected than their own. While some progress was made, the New Polar Order showed they could not play ball in this arena of safe politics when they declared war on the New Sith Order. It was unfortunate really, because it demonstrated the detachment the Beer-O-Sphere had from the rest of the web. They were only able to win the war through TOP's entry at the beginning of the conflict.
Today, if you look at the web you will notice that the lines that connect obvious centers of power (IRON, NPO, Umbrella, etc.) often cross between not just themselves, but their allies and the allies of their allies. These treaty maneuvers exist solely for stability's sake, because in the current system stability is the only factor of any political import. It is as simple as our last global war, the Doom War. Attack Invicta. Why? Invicta does not have sufficient treaty ties, nor do their allies. The war is already over. We beat each other up and potentially shift some power within the larger structure of the web while we destroy the lower.
In this system pieces break off. (Aftermath, Sparta, MI6) and they become candidates for future political ties, which are only actually effective if they tie themselves between clusters of power centers. We can see the resistance that meets these alliances through their images. Each of these alliances (including those once in AM) all have terrible images publicly, and while I'm not arguing there is not good reasons to dislike or hate these alliances, I am saying their reputations are at least partially a result of their current political position. Cracks and jokes can be made, but how the people who make real foreign affairs decisions perceive alliances or believe they are perceived is the most important factor in treaty partner selections, unless you happen to be in the beer-o-sphere, where friendship has often taken the front seat in political decision making. In order for Planet Bob to become a more exciting location for the politically minded to enjoy, drastic steps need to be taken. These steps are not exact, nor required to achieve a state where politics can live freely again, but rather suggestions and courses of actions that could help solidify and reinvigorate the backrooms of governments.
Re-institute Defeat. When someone goes to war with your alliance, give them terms. Make them write an orange juice review. 1B in reps. Tech. Viceroy (Buzzword). Require the defeated alliance to cancel all existing treaties and live under your protection for two months before freeing them from your overall control. Take the risk. Go to war over issues that could be resolved diplomatically if your government thinks the other one should "know better." Create drama, but make it have stakes. Don't go to war with someone for no reason. Fabricate a CB. Plant someone in their govt and fake logs; I don't care - make Planet Bob interesting by being interesting.
The last time I checked in, it was just prior to the Love Run Half Marathon and I had a calf injury. Luckily, that injury cleared up the day before the race, and I PR’d (Personal Record) by almost a half hour. My finish time was 2 hours, 28 minutes, and some change. I felt great. This is a summary of the past two months’ experiences - tendonitis, cardiac arrest, nose bleeds, an amazing trip, and future plans.
The next race I had on my plate was the Broad Street 10 Miler on May 2nd, which is the fastest and most populated 10 miler in the country. I ran this race with 45,000 other people. It was insane.
While I was training for this, I was also training for the Vermont City Marathon, which I had coming up just three weeks after, on May 24th. My mileage was getting pushed higher and higher… and two weeks before the Broad Street run, I went out for an 18 mile run on some of our favorite trails. 14 miles in, I started to feel some discomfort in my left foot. Like an idiot, I convinced myself I needed to get all 18 in, and continued slogging through the miles to hit my mark. I finished, and my foot immediately started to stiffen and swell. I had problems putting weight on it for days afterwards. I hoped it was just sore from use and that I wasn’t dealing with another injury.
Two days before the Broad Street run, two large box trucks went missing in Philly. The local police instantly became worried that these were going to be used for terrorism purposes during the race, and the FBI was called in to provide race assistance and protect the event. This most likely saved one dude's life, so thanks box-truck-stealer-guys.
May 2nd came around, and my foot felt decent for the race. We walked our way to the finish line… or at least as close to the finish line as we could get. The amounts of people were insane. The start line was two blocks away, and it took my fiancé over 45 minutes just to get there. I started further back in the pack, which stretched over a quarter mile away from the starting line. Again… nuts. The race itself was awesome. You run through what is stereotypically the ‘worst’ parts of Philly (Olney, Fern Rock, Northern Philly) but hundreds of people from the neighborhoods were out cheering on runners and handing out orange slices, cookies, and carrying awesome signs like “Don’t Trust a Fart Past Mile 5”. The temperature climbed and became swelteringly humid, so I took every opportunity to pour cups of water on my head and run through opened fire hydrants and sprinklers. Overheating sucks.
At mile 2, I passed an ambulance where EMT’s were loading a 35 year old male runner. He had suddenly collapsed and gone into full cardiac arrest. Luckily, one of the aforementioned FBI Special Agents was watching the man when he collapsed. He ran over and did CPR until the paramedics were able to get him into the ambulance and off of the course. The guy ended up fully recovering. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one that had to be evac’d from the course. Philly’s Police Chief Inspector was hanging out at the finish line congratulating runners when a 27 year old male crossed the line, finished running, and instantly collapsed. He similarly went into cardiac arrest. Luckily, the medics were able to rapidly get him to Temple Hospital, and he fully recovered as well.
For myself, I finished the race in 1:49:32, 28 seconds under my goal. I was happy. My left foot was aching again, so I decided to go to the medical tent and get checked out once all of the above had quieted down. They told me exactly what I didn’t want to hear – I had both posterior tibial tendonitis and pereoneal tendonitis. The pereoneal tendons travel the outside of your calf and foot, and connect to the outside of your arch. The tibial tendons do the same, but on the inside of your leg. I had aggravated both of them – an injury that normally takes 8-12 weeks to heal. I had a marathon in three weeks. $%#@. They suggested I run in only stability shoes, so I pulled out an old, crappy pair and decided they would be my marathon shoes. Bummer.
I wasn’t able to run much in those weeks before the Vermont City Marathon, as every time I’d go out for a decent run, I’d start to feel pain in my foot, and it would become stiff and painful for days. For the final two weeks, I decided the best thing to do would be to not run at all. I started to become very nervous about finishing the race. Who does a marathon with almost no training the three weeks prior? Ugh. In this time, I also decided to radically change my diet to become closer to a fat adapted lifestyle (a post for another time). Another thing you’re really not supposed to do before a marathon.
On the day prior to a race, you usually go to a specified area to pick up your race information and walk around a vendor expo – usually running shoe companies, wholesalers, nutritionists, sports chiropractors, etc. While walking around the expo for VCM, my foot started to hurt. I was totally demoralized, and figured it was certain that I wouldn’t finish. Until… we stopped at a shoe wholesaler and I tried on a pair of new Brooks Adrenaline 15’s. It was like god enveloped my foot and all my pain disappeared. I bought them on the spot and decided I was going to break another race rule and run in brand new shoes. This was going to be interesting.
Race day came, and it was perfect. High 50’s to low 70’s through most of the race, cloudy, and beautiful. I love Burlington, VT so much. And the views of the Adirondacks (a mountain range I spend most of my winter in) were spectacular.
Myself, Jason, our friend Stacy, and our pup Ridley just before the marathon start.
The new shoes gave me a nasty blister on my pinky-toe, but carried me otherwise pain-free through 26.5 miles (I swear that course was long). I also had the most kick-ass outfit ever.
Happiest Marathon finisher in all the lands.
It was probably my favorite race I’ve ever done, and I’d love to do it again in the future.
Once I finished (at 5:49:45), I saw my friend Stacy… who was covered in blood. Seriously - it was everywhere. She looked like she fought off a Moose somewhere during the course. Apparently, Stacy had gotten a wicked nosebleed half way into the course. She pushed it off, just to get another nosebleed at mile 23, just before the finish. Medics saw her and tried to make her stop, which she of course refused (Stacy is currently working on running a marathon in all 50 states. This was her 4th or 5th), and they were forced to follow her for three miles while she ran, bleeding everywhere, waiting for her to pass out. Luckily, she didn’t pass out, and did finish, even though she lost a ton of blood out on the course. It was pretty gnarly.
After the race, our group met up with KahlanRahl at a local brewery and had some awesome food, beer, and Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream. It was a fantastic time. I did learn that Ben and Jerry’s is practically half the cost in VT compared to PA. Shenanigans.
I spent this past week recovering from the Marathon (which was last Sunday), and luckily felt fantastic by Wednesday. I got a short track workout in yesterday in prep for my race this weekend, the Independence Triathlon. This marks the start of Tri season! Here’s hoping the tendon pain stays gone, I don’t flat on the bike, and I don’t swallow too much water on the swim. If I do….
April and May have been killer months for us Indians, literally.
The death toll is at 500 and counting. Not a large number but then it is the cause that is depressing, we are undergoing a heat wave that has lasted most of two months now. The place i live in has recorded its highest ever temperature so far in May, 43 C was common enough for us in the summer but this year we have touched 45C and gone beyond it a bit.
In certain parts of the country people have been dropping like flies, mainly those engaged in manual labor out int he fields and mines. A jogger collapsed while i watched yesterday and a high flying business executive walked off an air liner out into the sun and fell dead.
Weather, has gone loco it would seem. Earlier days of April we were all !@#$%*ing about how unseasonal and early rains were no good and the mango harvest would be ruined. Now we be all pleading for a shower.
got to go now, need a shower.
"Starboard, ten degrees!"
The King breathed in the fresh air of the blessed islands as the trade winds whipped up the banners of his flagship into a frenzy. It spiritually rejuvenated him to return to these islands, his sovereign kingdom, his mighty people. He felt as if the mighty rock of Diamond Head was slowly approaching his ship, and its beauty and majesty was a humbling reminder that God, and not himself, was the true Father of his people. He frowned. The True People would only hold dominion over these islands so long as they could hold them.
As his flagship docked, and he descended the steps surrounded by his elite royal knights, two entire royal regiments on either side of his walk came to attention. Their wide-brimmed white helms sparkled in the morning sunlight, each topped by a steel spear-point matching the shining bayonets they held upright, and their crisp blue uniforms formed a vast sea of discipline and order, holding back the forces of chaos and decay. They were the finest of his people, the clean-cut Soldiers of God and Nation.
Beyond the ranks of the Nation's Finest, mingling with the sounds of the sea and the shouts of sergeants, his precious people awaited him, joyous to see their King returning in health and victory from the latest negotiations with the foreigners. At the end of the vast lines of soldiers, their commander saluted the King and offered him and his knights their horses which they would ride directly to Iolani Palace. As the King and his knights rode he thought about the challenges the Kingdom was facing abroad.
Though these islands might already be besieged by foreign degeneration and the ravages of capitalism, the King thought to himself, within this Kingdom remains the old chivalry and honor... for a little while longer.
Yep, you read it right
Thanks everyone for the overwhelming support in my last entry about cancer. I'm delighted to say with the help of my surgeons mighty sword I'm now cancer free. Operation 100% success!
For the next three months now I just have the wounds to get over and then another round of surgery to reconnect the organs they disconnected this time round. I'm then right to heal and live to old age.
Once again I thank all of you, it's great to see we have such an awesome community.
I have decided to share this with you today to put it in the open so people can be informed correctly and hopefully for those in my age group, get a check up!
On the 23rd of Feb this year I heard the dreaded words from my Doctor, "you have cancer".
Without all the boring bits, a ton of tests and scans later and I know it's bowel cancer and also cancer in my left kidney.
On Monday the 13th I will undergo surgery to have it all cut out. That means a couple of weeks in hospital and a substantial recovery period.
The good news is the surgeon believes in 12 months I should be living a normal life again and 100% cancer free.
Btw I'm 49 with a crappy family history for this so the warning signs were there, but I ignored them until I was in serious pain...
If you are around that range, GET A CHECK UP!
P.S. If anyone hits my nation while I'm gone I invite the whole world to burn them to the ground!
Well, it happened.
This past Sunday, my fiance and I headed out for our last long run. He was headed for 14 miles and I was heading for 11. He wanted to push it, as his goal for tomorrow's race was to finish in under 1:20:00 for 13.1 miles. That's barely over a 6 minute mile pace. I had a much more reasonable goal of finishing in under 2:45:00, with a stretch goal of under 2:30:00 (I'm not a very fast runner).
I caught up to him at mile 4.5, which was my first indication that something was wrong. Because of the ridiculously fast pace he runs, he's usually lightyears ahead of me on any run we go out for. As I got closer to him, I could see he was slowly shuffling back, limping along the way. Calf injury.
We walked the 4.5 miles back to the car and sped off to an Orthopedic Urgent Care. They let us know that it wasn't torn, was most likely just a pulled soleus muscle, and gave him some anti-inflammatories. Over the week, it started to feel a bit better for him, and the likelyhood that he was still going to be running the race was improving. We decided on Thursday that it would be a good time to test his leg out and head out for a short 1-2 mile run. We head out... and he calls it 2/3rds of a mile in. He feels it pop/ping again, and decides he's not going to push it.
Meanwhile, I decide to finish the 2 mile run. I had a small pain in my right calf that I thought would work itself out as I ran, but by a mile and a half it starts to feel pretty significant. By the time I finish my two miles, my calf is swolen and I get a sharp pain whenever I attempt to stretch it. I realize that I've now injured the same calf, in the same spot as my fiance has.
Last night became a fun friday night of off-brand Bengay and kinesiology tape.
A wild and crazy Friday night at our household.
We're both feeling better today, but 13.1 miles definitely isn't going to come as easy as we hoped it would. We're similiarly trying not to think about the fact that our Marathon is 8 weeks away, as well, and training for that just got a lot more difficult. We've definitely started injury season early this year.
For the race, we're both planning on winging it. I'm going to try to muscle through the pain (both literally and figuratively) and meet my goals. We'll both be taping up, and getting some pretty effective (and pricy) compression socks to hopefully support whatever muscle isn't feeling that great.
Race is over and we kicked ass! I finished in 2:28:22 and the fiance finished in 1:34:54. PUMPED! Screw you, calves.