Goodbye my friend(s)

On a sad note, I (deliberately) left my workhorse trail shoes behind in the UK. Over the course of the week, I wore the last of the cushioning and lugs down to nothing. We got some good walks in though. Photos and recap from the trip to come soon.

And while my shoes were sent to the great English rubbish bin in the sky, I successfully managed to (accidentally) bring the key to our B&B room back to the US. So, I left something behind and gained something in return. The circle of life continues.

(Yes, I'm mailing the key back to England).

The workhorse

I understand you might be suffering from withdrawal since I haven't written about shoes in a while. That's all about to change right now!

I picked up a pair of Inov-8s on sale a little while ago (yes, another pair of running shoes -- but these fell within my ~$60 "why not?" price-point). They're made with an innovative (ha! get it?) design philosophy and are much less supportive than most other trail runners, while still being all grippy. The basic theory is that the shoe gets out of your way to let you run more naturally and efficiently. In those terms, they're very similar to my favorite, super-inexpensive, super-reliable Vitruvians, only the Inov-8s are meant for off-road running.

Unfortunately for my calves and IT band, the Inov-8s take the "natural" running theory a little farther than my Vitruvians. Since they have such a low heel and not much built-in support, you need to gradually get used to them so that your muscles can adjust. Needless to say, I spent no time adapting and dove right in -- wearing them exclusively for three days, including a couple hour walk on Sunday (after I had already worked myself over with a tough bike and run on Saturday).

So, I'm sore. My right achilles is really tender. And my IT band pain is flaring up again. Nothing like waiting until a few days before a big event (the Grand Canyon hike in this case) to try something new! That hike's still far enough out that I should be healed up, but in the meantime, I'm back to aggressive rehab for my achilles and IT band and I'll be back in my favorite old pair of trail runners for our trip to England.

Those shoes have been through a lot, including our first hike in the Grand Canyon, our hike in St. John and numerous shorter walks and runs through the woods (or brush, in the case of Texas). They're probably at the end of their active life, but I keep pulling them back out because they keep performing. Who knew $40 on sale at EMS a few years ago was going to be such a good buy?

I don't know why I'm so attached to a pair of sneakers. It might be because the reason I have my $60 "why not?" price point is a result of these shoes being so awesome for so long for so little money.

It might also be because I'm weird.

On a slightly less weird note, I'm sure you're saddened to know that many of those shoes in the above picture are no longer with us (or, more specifically, they're not with me -- they're still with us in a landfill somewhere). I'll also be donating any other non-frequently worn shoes to either Soles 4 Souls or a similar charity in Doylestown, PA.

Two weeks (give or take) of adventure

Next Wednesday, Hannah and I leave for England for a week to visit her family and have some days of strolling around in the countryside (or what I perceive is the countryside. We're staying in a B&B, and last I checked, those typically aren't in the major metropolitan areas). We return to the US on Tuesday and Hannah continues on back to Texas.

On Saturday morning, I fly down to San Angelo for a quick visit. On Sunday morning I then fly to Phoenix by way of Dallas. Then I hop in a rental car and drive up to the Grand Canyon. I debated trying to do the short course Striders Duathlon in San Angelo on Sunday morning, but thought better of it -- no reason to make an already physically stressful trip even moreso.

Monday morning at 6:00 (if I have my way), my dad and brothers and I start our hike down to the Colorado River. If it all goes to plan, we'll be back up in the mid-afternoon. If it doesn't go well... then it'll probably be our last family trip. Ever.

Tuesday morning I drive back to Phoenix for a mid-afternoon flight to NJ.

Hopefully, I'll come out of all this with some good photos. But there might be an even bigger gap between posts. Somehow, I think you'll manage. If you need some excitement during the lull, check out my post about our new washer again. It's riveting.

Doing our part to help the economy

Are you ready to see the coolest, most awesome thing ever? It's fully-assembled, fully-connected, and fully one of the most exciting things I've encountered in a while. It's not my new bike, but like my bike, it's not made in China (which makes it even cooler!).

Ready? You'll need to scroll down to see the photo. I don't want to give anything away too easy.















What? You don't think that's the coolest thing ever? Really?!? Maybe if you look at it from a slightly different angle.



Well, fine. You clearly don't know what awesome is. It's got a window in the front and it gets our clothes clean.

Still nothing? Whatever...

These are not the photos you're looking for

These aren't the super-exciting photos I alluded to in my last post, but they are proof that Texas has hills (grainy, blurry, camera-phone proof).


They're from Burma Road, my new favorite road in (or nearby) San Angelo. I'm sure every other cyclist and triathlete in the area has already discovered it, but I feel special all the same.

Hannah had described Burma as being what she imagined the Ironman Wisconsin course was like (since she only saw me at one section of the bike course, she didn't actually see the hills).

To be honest, I didn't really believe that was possible. A tough, technical, hilly road in San Angelo? That can't be. There's no way it's as challenging as the really hard bits in Wisconsin (which I've ridden in case I didn't mention it a few times already).

As usual, when my ego gets the better of me, I'm usually quickly humbled. Burma is exactly like the tough rolling parts of IMWI, except swap out the green fields for mesquite, cacti and brush. And, with the added bonus of Texas being really hot in a couple months, it'll be just like the race in '05!

What have I been up to?

It's been a slow few weeks in terms of blogeable content. I was down in Texas a bunch. It's nice there (upper 70s most days). It was snowing this morning in NJ/NYC on my way to work.

I've been training. Despite easing back onto the plan, a glimpse at my training log reveals that over the last few weeks I've actually had the most consistent volume since I was rowing two-a-days in the summer of '02. That bodes well for IMLP in July. I'm not even feeling 100% and I'm consistently throwing down workouts that I couldn't regularly handle two years ago. This is on top of the travel and economic-crisised-work-hours doing wonders for my free time and stress levels.

A big part of that is due to me hooking up with Endurance Corner. Consistency is easier when someone is putting out a plan to follow. They've got a five level program for the working athlete. I'm at level two. Level five is well beyond my comprehension. Seeing as how level one would have me doing more work than I did for any of my past IMs, I think I'm in a good place.

I also got my road bike built up (I know, you've all been waiting with baited breath). You'll have to wait longer for some photos since I won't be back in Texas until mid-April. I do have one exciting photo from my last visit, but you'll have to hold out for a few days. Trust me, it will be well worth the wait.

Mini adventure

I ran home from the airport.

It's not often that you can say that, at least, not when talking about the airports that most people typically frequent. But, in San Angelo, it's possible to live the dream (assuming your dream is running home from the airport).

A few weeks ago, I flew into San Angelo earlier than usual so that I could get down in time to take Hannah out for her birthday dinner and to the rodeo. It's less than a six-mile trip from our house to the airport, so I went the fun route rather than taking a cab.

More exciting (for me anyway) is the fact that I was actually able to run. That's the first time I've gotten in more than a few minutes at a time in 12 weeks. So, after a gradual build up, I'm back on the training plan.

That's an Apache in the background. Must be the Army's. Or a really eccentric rancher's.

After taking this picture on the move, I decided to stop running for the rest of the photos.





This is the power plant (or the water treatment plant... or something like that).

No new gear

I was struck by a thought about our Grand Canyon trip on my way to work today (I think some punk kid threw it). For the first time, I actually don't need any new gear for an "event." To be fair, I'm sure I didn't need new gear for many of my "events," especially the triathlons, but there's something to be said for having a newer piece of equipment or kit for race day.

Anyway, since I have more than enough gear to outfit both my brothers and my dad for this hike (ignoring sizing issues), I don't really need anything. I have a few pairs of trail shoes (as I'm sure you've heard if you've read more than one of my posts), I have a couple of day packs (I'm going to lend RDM the one I used at the Grand Canyon last time), and I have technical clothes out the wazoo.

It's a little weird to not have to (or even really want to) buy anything new.

I'm not a swimmer

I'm not a swimmer. I used to be a swimmer. Now I'm a triathlete who is a faster swimmer than most (but a slower cyclist/runner than all). Somewhere between the two I was a rower. I'm not a rower anymore either.

There's a huge difference between being a good swimmer and being a good triathlon swimmer. In most triathlons I do, I finish easily in the top 10% of the swim, even in ironman. Masters swim races... not so much. I'm lucky if I'm seeded anywhere near the top 50% (and, assuming I wasn't overly delusional about my seed time when I submitted my entry, I'm lucky if I can finish in that top 50%).

There's an even wider disparity if you just look at age group rankings. I'm still usually top 10% in my age group in triathlon swims. But in pure swimming races? Ugh.

While some of my recent best times are good enough to qualify for Masters Nationals, they're certainly not good enough to even put me in the top 25, let alone anywhere close to the times of the top 10. The time standards are low enough so that more people can/will attend, which makes a lot of sense and is a good idea to boost participation. There's no such thing as a professional Masters swimmer, so why wouldn't they welcome all comers?

Why am I writing all this? I keep thinking I'd like to make a run at Masters Nationals one year soon. While I'm sure the trip would be fun, I really only want to go if I have a decent chance of finishing well (I don't feel like traveling far away to sit in the bleachers for hours at a time waiting for a two-minute race, just to get DFL -- I did that enough of as a youth swimmer).

But then I think about Open Water Masters Nationals. There's an event I might be able to train for and that would cater to my talents -- which is the ability to go slow for a long time. I'm still not at the level to finish in the top of the pack, but I'd be a lot more competitive than in a pool swim. That and Hannah could probably go off and have a decent time for an hour or so, and come back and watch the finish. The only thing worse than traveling far away to sit in the bleachers for hours at a time waiting for a two-minute race, is then having to sit around some more and watch that two-minute race.

Of course, she wouldn't even have to go at all. It's not like you can hear or see your supporters in a swimming race, especially open water events. I could just tell her how I did! And since Hannah doesn't check results online, I could "win" every event. Hmmm.

Supersuit

If you watched any of this year's Olympic swimming, you saw tons of world and Olypmic records fall and you saw almost everyone in the newest technical swim suits -- mostly the one made by Speedo. Once the Olympics were over, you probably promptly forgot (or stopped caring) about the supersuits, or swimming in general.

Since the Olympics, a bunch of other manufacturers have developed their own suits that rival the one from Speedo. Some are from established players like TYR, but most are from triathlon wetsuit manufacturers. To be clear for the uninformed, wetsuits are illegal in most swimming events as they provide buoyancy (they are legal in most triathlons, supposedly for the insulation effect, but in practice, it's for the life-preserver effect -- some triathlons are not wetsuit-legal though, and that's where this new suit comes in).

Anyway, the "swimskins" made by the wetsuit companies are perfectly legal under the current world swimming rulebook. They're not technically wetsuits -- while they are made from neoprene, they aren't made with foamed neoprene (the material that makes wetsuits buoyant).

Where there were previously only a handful of manufacturers making technical swimsuits, the industry is poised to see a huge wave of new players, all capitalizing on the "non-wetsuit wetsuit design." Beyond the question of whether or any of these swimskins do actually create flotation, one of the problems is that these companies will all be using the same process and materials, making it virtually impossible for meet officials to be able to distinguish between an "approved, legal" suit and one that isn't. While these suits aren't buoyant as far as FINA (the sport's governing body) is concerned, if every suit basically looks the same, but is created by a different manufacturer, what's to stop someone from using a swimskin that actually does have foamed neoprene? It'd be really hard to tell.

This week (tomorrow, I think), FINA is meeting to decide the legality of not only the neoprene suits, but also Speedo's and TYR's latest suit.

For anyone that cares, my non-technical opinion is that the materials in an approved suit need to be more tightly regulated. I'm all for innovation and fewer barriers to entry within the industry, but these suits are going too far, or more specifically, going too far in a bad direction. Speedo, TYR and Nike all have other technical suits that definitely improve speed compared to a standard lycra suit, but: 1)they don't help you float, 2)they're not ridiculously expensive.

I've seen (and touched, but not worn) Blue Seventy's swimskin (the one worn by most of the Olympic open water swimmers, as well as that dude swimming breastroke in that triathlon this past summer) and Rocket Science Sports' swimskin. Interestingly, I wouldn't have really thought the Blue Seventy was based on wetsuit technology if someone hadn't told me. It just seemed like a super nice, super slick racing suit. The RSS one just seemed like a thin wetsuit. I suspect that some of the suits will be deemed legal, while others won't.

I can illustrate my biggest problem with all these suits with a quick story from this past weekend. Hannah and I were in Austin and we stopped in one of the better tri shops in town. I asked to see the RSS swimskin and the woman in the store said they only had one left, because all the high school kids had just bought them out for an upcoming meet. These are high school kids dropping $250+ on a swim suit. Suddenly, grassroots swimming has become this huge arms race. If I was a high school swimmer and all my competition had one of these suits, you can bet I'd get one if I wanted to be competitive.

I'm kind of indifferent about elite swimming and the suits. The fastest swimmers are winning anyway; they're just setting more records. But for high school and younger swimmers, there has to be a limit (some of these suits are only usable for a handful of meets at most -- the Speedo LZR is only good for about seven swims, according to the shop employee I talked to at a reputable swim shop -- I can't imagine what I'd do if my 14 year old said the only way he'd be able to compete was with a $400 body suit that we'd have to replace after one or two meets).

Masters swimming has already embraced the swimskins, as has the triathlon world. If they end up banned, it will be interesting to see what happens to the rules in these two organizations -- they both use FINA rules as a guideline, but I'm curious if they won't stray on this one -- there's a lot of money to be made selling these suits.

If you want to learn more, check out the series of articles at SwimNews.com (the first article is here).

I appreciate that was long-winded. But aren't you glad I didn't talk about running shoes?

More on sustainable footwear

I came across this article about END Footwear the other day. It has some legitimate points (for example, I'm not too keen on the fact that the "green" shoes are made in China, then shipped across the world for me to buy them), but I think it's a bit harsh and unfair towards a company that genuinely seems to be trying something new and beneficial for the environment.

What END is doing seems to be on the right track, and there aren't many other manufacturers actively trying to change the marketplace, so I give them credit.

The big question about shoes (or any product for that matter) and sustainability that I don't have an answer for is, "what's ideal for sustainability?" It's great that END uses a good chunk of recycled materials, but ultimately, these shoes are still going to end up in a landfill. But is the best thing using recycled materials or creating a product that is biodegradeable like Brook's is doing? The best thing would be a product that is both made from recycled materials and is biodegradeable, but that's probably a little ways out (actually, the real best thing would be a product made from completely organic and biodegradeable materials, but I don't want to run in hemp sneakers).

This just in: More on shoes

I'm sure you'll all be overjoyed to know that I have another (brief) post about running shoes.

It turns out REI's return policy is a lot cooler than I thought. Since the sneakers I just bought are still in great condition (I mainly wore them on indoors or on a treadmill for the few miles I put on them), I'm fine to send them back for an exchange. Yay for REI.

More exciting than REI's return policy is the latest word cloud I created for my blog on Wordle.net.

The word "shoes" have finally taken the top stop away from "much." Of course, I suspect I'm going to have a more feminine result on the GenderAnalyzer (but I'm too afraid to check). So this might be the last post for awhile about shoes. I'm sure the focus will shift to backpacks, as what's more manly than taking about a bag that I wear over my shoulders to carry all my stuff?

UPDATE: I sucked it up and decided to drop my blog back in the GenderAnalyzer to see just how non-manly my writing is now. And to my surprise, here's the result I received:

So, apparently prattling on about running shoes is manly after all. 90% manly even.

Some frustration

There will come a day when I don't talk about shoes in my blog. That day is not today.

As some of my two devote readers might remember, I was super excited about END Footwear's road running line. A few weeks ago, despite still not being able to run because of my knee, I ordered a pair of the company's stability road shoes -- the OTG -- when they became available on REI.

I own a pair of their trail racers, and while really good, they're a little big (not so much that I can't run in them, but there's more toe room than I prefer). In an effort to outsmart myself, I ordered the road runners a half-size smaller. You can probably see where this is going.

The shoes are too small. The toe box has the right mount of space (so, I got that right anyway), but the sides and top of my foot are wedged in there. I can get around in them okay, but they are snug. And by snug I mean I'd probably hurt my foot if I tried to run in them for more than a few miles. I tried swapping in all different kinds of insoles that I have lying around -- strangely enough, the best fit are my custom orthotics, despite them having the most pronounced arch.

Long, uninteresting story short, these sneakers aren't for me. I've done a decent amount of walking in them, but they just don't work. I think if I kept trying to use them, I'd end up with some new injury, and I haven't even fully healed from my last injury.

Why didn't I return them for the a larger size? Well, because I'm an idiot and I was overwhelmed by their coolness factor. I was so excited about getting the shoes that I immediately tried them on and walked around. When they didn't fit quite right, I switched out the insole. Then walked around some more. Then the next day, I tried a little treadmill running. Basically, I think I used them too much for me to be allowed to return them (or to return them in good conscience). The perils of purchasing footwear online.

So, if you know anyone with size 8.5 feet who wants a barely used free pair of cool running shoes (I'm talking maybe five miles of walking and two of running), let me know. I really don't want to just toss them -- that's definitely not the environmentally-friendly thing to do.

Since these things were $90 ($30 above my "What the hell, I'll give them a try" price point), I'm a little frustrated. Maybe in the late spring I'll drop the money again for a larger size; but right now I'm thinking I'll stick with what works.

Although, with my family's Grand Canyon hike planned for April, maybe I'll pick up a new pair of trail runners. Because, clearly, I haven't learned my lesson. I mean, I only own four pairs of trail runners already.

Vindication

I had my running evaluation this morning at the sports medicine center where I get physical therapy. I'm still managing some pain in my knee, but it's progressing quite well. In addition to the PT, I give a lot of credit to the Trigger Point Performance suite of products -- they're much more effective than any foam roller I've ever used.

In my first visits to the orthopedist and with Jeff, my physical therapist, I was told that my running shoes aren't supportive enough and probably are directly contributing to my problems. They asked where I got them and who told me to wear them. I explained that I talked to the owner of the company and picked the shoes that were right for me.

I also explained that, in my opinion, the Vitruvians did a lot to help my achilles troubles because they have such a low heel. It took some getting used to, but ultimately I ended with stronger calves. I also prefer to run with a mid-foot foot strike, rather than a heel-strike, which means I don't need/want the big, overbuilt heel that is common in a lot of running shoes.

Both the doctor and Jeff (who, to me, are fairly knowledgeable and objective, despite this experience) were dismissive of my $60 shoes and said that with my flat feet, I'd need something more. The underlying tone (either implied or inferred, I don't know) was that I needed something more mainstream -- not from some wacky sneaker guy in Vermont.

Longer story longer, the running eval guy said all the same things today. "You're going to need a more supportive shoe. I hope these didn't cost you too much."

So, I took the test -- Greg, the eval guy, took some video of my gait while I was on a treadmill. I walked barefoot, I ran barefoot. I walked with my sneakers on, I ran with my sneakers on. We looked that video at normal speed, then frame by frame. Greg also could measure the angle of my pronation with one of the tools in the analysis software.

Results:
- I overpronate (roll in) more with my left foot than my right
- When I run barefoot, I'm more of a fore-foot striker (I land towards the front of my foot, not my heel). There's a little overprontation when I run barefoot, that should be corrected with appropriate footwear.
- When I put my garbage-bin-destined shoes on, I have a slight bit of pronation when I walk -- within a natural range.
- When I run in my "non-supportive," non-brand-name shoes, I... wait for it... have no unnecessary pronation.

The reason I like this sports med place was summed up with Greg's next comment -- after watching the video a few times, then checking and rechecking the angles --"Your shoes are fine. I really didn't think they would be. And looking at them, I still wouldn't think they would be good. But when you run in them, you have good mechanics."

It says something about Greg's character (and professionalism) to admit he was wrong.

All that said, I still have other bio-mechanical issues: weak hip muscles (especially on my right side) and poor balance (related to the weak hips). My right hip drops when I run, because of the weak hip area, which is likely the underlying cause of my IT band/knee problems. So, more strengthening, more flexibility... and more $60 running shoes.

The bike build begins!

With great excitement, I started my bike build the other day. I laid out all the various components, set up my bike stand and admired the beautiful frame. Knowing (or, not knowing, to be more precise) what I was about to undertake, there was a good chance that the frame wouldn't emerge unscathed, so I took a picture to capture it's unmangled purity.

Then, I got down to work. It was a lot of effort, but I'm pleased with the final result. What's that? It looks like the same picture?

Here's a better image, complete with graphics identifying my progress.


I'm still short a few parts, all of which are required before I can go any further. Basically, if you see a hole anywhere on the frame, it's because I'm missing the piece that goes there. I have cranks, but don't have a bottom bracket to attach the cranks (that hole at the bottom where the seat and down tubes come together). I have a fork and headset (the front end), but don't have a stem to keep the fork in place. I have a seat, but don't have a seatpost to put it on.

So, to tide you over until I have those pieces, here's a picture of cycling in San Angelo. Notice that Hannah's in front of me. That had nothing to do with the fact that she's getting fitter than me on the bike, but was because I was riding a bike with no wheels, cranks, seat or handlebars.

A Walk in the... umm... Brush

A few weeks ago, Hannah and I went for a longish hike in the state park in San Angelo. By "longish," I mean about three hours. By "about," I mean almost exactly three hours. By "almost exactly," I mean I'm filling space in this post since the actual content will be a little sparse.

The trail we walked was split into two paths: one for hikers and cyclists, the other for hikers and horses. I suppose the split is because bikes don't get along with horses. We chose to walk the hiker/cyclist path, if only to avoid the horse droppings (bike droppings are typically easier to spot, since they're usually metal).

Some of you might not be aware, but the State of Texas has made a concerted effort to be inclusive in their park system (walkers, cyclists, etc.). As such, they want to make it clear who can use which trails, and they've updated their signage appropriately.As you can see, this sign is very specific about who can use the trail. What you can't see is the little bicycle (the photo cuts off the image on the left) -- so this is a multi-use trail for cyclists, hikers and women.

That's all well and good. Unfortunately for our shared hike, we came across another sign a few miles down the trail.

It seems some old biases of the park rangers are hard to overcome. It was a shame to part ways, but Hannah had to sit down on a rock in her dress while I got to wander ahead.

Superpower

Yesterday I performed the herculean feat of running across the street to beat a traffic light... twice (no, not the same light). I know you're impressed. My amazing ability to succeed at the ordinary is astonishing.

I'm quite pleased with myself, because at this rate, I'll be able to run a mile in a year. Actually, I suspect it will be somewhat sooner (two weeks), as that's when my PT scheduled me to have a running evaluation to measure my gait and form. I'm on the mend (I think... it might be that the PT just wants to watch me suffer).


PS - If you like that image at the top, check out Superuseless Superpowers. You should get a smile out of at least a few of them.

My new toy (some assembly required)

One of my updates from last weekend in Texas is that my new bike arrived.

"New bike?" you might say. "Last year, didn't you go on and on about not buying a new luxury item from China?"

"In fact I did," I'd answer. "But this bike was actually made in Taiwan, of Columbus tubing (which is good stuff). Besides, that was last year."

And since I'm making up this entire conversation, I'd respond to your generous offer of a new car with, "Yes, thank you. I'd like the Volvo C30. I appreciate that's not too expensive a car, but I don't want to impose."

So I have a new bike. Or more specifically, I have a new bike frame. For my third bike, while I strongly considered a penny-farthing, I opted for a standard aluminum road frame, which I'm going to build up myself. This might go disastrously bad, but since there are few overly complex moving parts and no electrical or plumbing work involved, I'm not really worried about damaging anything, except maybe my ego when I need to bring the tangled mess into a bike shop to undo my debacle.

Also, apparently I was such a good customer over the phone that Fetish Cycles (the bike company) sent me two (2) frames for the price of one. I contemplated some kind of reverse training wheel build (two frames on one set of wheels), but thought better of it when I realized I wouldn't easily be able to mount the saddle without access to a machine shop. Besides, Fetish decided they actually want the "free" frame back.

Quandary

I have a whole slew of upcoming posts about my last few days down in Texas. (On a side note, I don't think San Angelo is "deep in the heart" -- but the song doesn't work with, "the probable center of gravity of Texas, if you were able to pick the state up and needed to balance it." That's a shame, because the stars really are big and bright there.)

Anyway, to tide you over, and to keep up my regular babbling about new sneakers, I have a dilemma. You see, END Footwear has just released their road models. And, they're cool. And environmentally sound.

So, the question is, do I buy myself the new pair of sneakers I've been eagerly awaiting even though I can't actually run in the them because of my knee? What to do?



If you're interesting in any of END's products yourself, check out REI -- they have most of the trail models and at least the road shoe that I'm looking to get. However, if you're interested in END's water shoe, their women's road shoes or the other men's road model, the marketing manager at END told me Rockcreek.com would have the full line-up first (yes, I actually e-mailed the marketing manager at END to find out when the road models would be available).

Knee update

Another visit to the PT this morning revealed a weak vastus medialis obliquus (VMO). There's some interweb controversy about whether or not targeting that specific muscle will do anything for my patellar pain (the pain I feel behind the knee cap when I do things like squats and hard cycling), but Jeff the PT hasn't steered me wrong yet (in the minutes and minutes I've known him), so I'll stick with his recommendation.

To learn if there was a problem, Jeff had me lay on my back and tighten my quads while he watched my VMO. After squeezing for all I was worth, Jeff said, "You can tighten your quads at any time now." Whether he was joking or not, the fact is the muscle needs work. So I've got a few more exercises to do this week. Maybe when all this is done, I'll end up with legs like the guy Hannah was oogling at the trail run last year. Maybe.

On another note, I was bored last night and created a word cloud on Wordle.net with my blog. For those not in the know, a word cloud is a useless graphical depection based on the words that most commonly pop up on a web page. The larger the word, the more often it's used.


I understand why "running," "knee" and "pain" are so big, as that's all I've written about for the last few weeks. But I'm a little suprised by "much." How much can I possibly write the word "much" in a post? I don't think it could have been that much.