Back on the Horse (But the Horse is Tired)

We had a looooong winter in Chicagoland. Between the cold and being a SAHD, my failure-to-run excuse bucket has been pretty full. Still, I’m determined to run the Chicago Marathon. I’m currently at the there’s-no-way stage, but deep down I know it can happen.

Spring seems to have begun in earnest. I felt thrilled about three weeks ago as I began to see the signs, so as part of my preparation, I jumped back on our trusty Bowflex to work on reconditioning. Unfortunately, four workouts in six days tried my immune system’s patience a bit too much, and I felt a cold coming on. I turned to my trusty Zicam, the miracle cure, and it kept my head nice and clear. The stuff didn’t do a thing for my throat, however, and after a couple days I was experiencing the worst sore throat of my life. Good fun.

So two weeks later, tired but otherwise feeling well, sweet baby boy entrusted to both visiting grandmothers, I hit the road on one of the first truly balmy afternoons of the year. Just a smidge under three miles, very slow, more walking than running truth be told, marked the beginning of my 2008 running season. Yes, I ran a couple times last month to start breaking in my new shoes, but I feel confident that the weather will hold, and the longer days will offer me more opportunities to run consistently. 26.2 is just around the corner.

By the way, I picked up some Brooks Radius 7 running shoes because my knees were starting to hurt in my former pair. Perhaps I’ll say a word about them next time.

Credit Card Activation is Fun

A little off topic here, folks. I should be writing about running, or perhaps the trials of stay-at-home fatherdom, but I have a small pet peeve to air.

You know how your bank sends you a new credit card shortly before your old one expires? Well, assuming they still want you as a customer, they do. Anyway, I seem to recall activating new cards via an automated telephone system in the past. I was perfectly happy with this system. I’d call, enter the required information, and the friendly recorded voice (let’s call her Brenda) would tell me I was all finished. In more recent times, I’ve noticed that Brenda started trying to sell me things like super anti-criminal protection or just-in-case-you-die insurance. A little annoying, but I figured out I could just hang up on her because my card was already activated.

Then I got a Discover Card. I hung up on Brenda, and a little while later got a letter in the mail talking about some Discover Card protection plan I had signed up for. The rep I spoke to about it swore that they could not authorize such a service without my express approval. Remembering that Brenda always reminds me my phone call may be recorded for quality assurance, I said, “Hey, why don’t you just check the recording?” Well, apparently they don’t record EVERY call. Um, yeah.

So my new Bank of America card arrived today, and I dutifully called as instructed on the little peel-off strip. I enter the numbers, wait patiently for my confirmation, and what’s this? “Please hold,” says Brenda, “while we transfer you to a customer service representative.” I must have entered something incorrectly. Wrong. Banks must have figured out I was hanging up on poor Brenda, so they sicced a live person on me! Whatever happened to good old automation? Too many comedians picking on complicated phone systems? Sure, if I want to discuss a problem with a live person, spending five minutes wading through a series of button-oriented questions is not my idea of a good time. But come on! Now I have to sit on hold just so my bank has the opportunity to convince me I’m about to die?

I really miss Brenda.

Am I Still Alive?

I won’t claim to be back to prime blogging form (like September…seven whole posts!!), but I am still alive. I thought perhaps being a stay-at-home dad (I’m gonna have to use SAHD from now on) would have left me lifeless, but would you believe my son is now almost four months old, and my fingers are still spry enough for typing?

He’s an incredible joy if you’re wondering. I say that even after the vomit- and diarrhea-filled week (mostly him) after Christmas, not to mention those sleep droughts that left me sprawled on the couch, mumbling about green poop.

Have I kept up with the running? Yes and no. My schedule slackened a bit right after Mateo was born, down to maybe two good runs a week, with an occasional third if I had the time and energy. As he slept more and more at night, I started being fairly consistent with three runs, usually with two on the weekend because the shortening days meant huffing along on our surprisingly dark neighborhood streets, getting slapped in the face by low-hanging branches.

I had regained some momentum moving into November and ran my first 5K on the new 355 Veterans Memorial Tollway. A friend and I entered the event thinking it was a race. Not that we had any notions of being competitive with anyone but ourselves, but we had imagined official times and all that. As it turned out, our first race was something more of a fun run, although the first finishers did receive some kind of awards. We still had fun and got the T-shirts to prove we were there. Because we started about a thousand people back, and I missed the exact starting line for my own watch, I didn’t get an accurate time. I know it was in the neighborhood of 26 minutes, about a minute slower than my goal.

I got a cold right after Thanksgiving, so that grounded me for a bit. Colds have caused me to quit running long term on several occasions, so with some measure of determination, I hit the roads again after a little more than a week. By Christmas, I felt really good again. In fact, on Christmas day I put four great miles under my belt. I had visions of my first nine mile attempt for the weekend. Alas, my body had other plans, and I spent the next several days with a wicked something or other playing havoc with my GI system.

Well, this update is really starting to get a little boring, so I’ll sum up by saying I’m going running tomorrow, and I really hope my body is done being sick for the season. Oh yes, and I’m running the Chicago Marathon this year. Woo-hoo!

Running on Empty

Just so you know, it’s 1:30am. I “went to bed” at 9:00pm and slept until my four-week-old son started his rooting routine, snorting and grunting around for something to devour. It’s unbelievably cute, which I’m sure God intended to keep new parents from late-night infanticide.

I thought I would have something interesting to say at this point, but I don’t. That’s not to say nothing interesting has happened. I’ve never had so much interesting stuff packed into a month. But my creative faculties are severely limited due to a combination of sleep deprivation and sensory overload.

Welcome to the life of a new stay-at-home dad. Nice to meet you. Good night.

A Dad’s Diary

If you’ve been following my running diary over the past few weeks, you may be thinking my first post on the subject turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy. No new posts for a week means Eric the Runner has yet again faded from glory. Well, you’d be wrong because I’m now Eric the Daddy!

My first child, a son, was born September 17 at 10:16am. He weighed 9 lbs, 5 oz, and measured 21 inches long. I’m 6′4″, but my poor wife is only 5′5″ on a good day and weighed about 123 lbs pre-pregnancy. Still, she managed to avoid a C-section, for which we’re both very grateful.

I’m still a bit overwhelmed by this past week’s experiences, so I’ll hold off a bit on any storytelling. Maybe overwhelmed just means “tired” at this point.

As for running, how can it compare to having a new baby at home? Regardless, I knew I’d regret it later if I didn’t maintain some small level of commitment this past week. And besides, better health has most assuredly contributed to a better overall sense of well-being, and that’s a good thing with a newborn at home.

I last ran on Saturday, the day before my wife was to be induced. Still sticking to the weekly long run plan, I set out to do seven miles, running one mile, then walking a minute or two. The plan worked great, and I completed 7.2 miles in 1:12. Not bad as I had previously run six miles in about 1:10.

But after this new success, a baby. Well, that’s okay. We’ll find normalcy again, and for the first time in our eight years of marriage, we have a little one with us to enjoy the process of finding it. So, weary and still a bit unsteady, I finally got out Friday and trudged through about 3 3/4 miles. My legs felt like lead after 30 minutes, and the whole process took me about 45 minutes.

Up for today was an eight-mile run, a new personal best. I had been so excited, but reality kicked my butt. I’m still just too tired to run really well, but I tried anyway. To sum up: hot, tired, eight miles in 1:35.

I’ll redo the run next week, I hope with better results. I also hope to get out a few times this week.

On another note, I registered for my first race today, a 5K scheduled for Nov. 11.