Nice spring day rant

Today was the first day that it actually felt like spring. 72 degrees with partly cloudy skies. There was a bit of a breeze, but neither that nor my impending path exam stopped me from enjoying a nice easy run. 3 miles later of weaving in and out of traffic and through ISU's campus I was done. Exactly 24:00. That's interesting because that was the exact pace that I had planned for today. I never run exactly at my set pace. I'm usually under, but many times over as well. Not this time. I ran an exact average of 8 min/mi. I know that it's an average because I was at a shade over 7:00 for the first mile. I had to slow down. The train certainly helped with that. (Of all the towns in which I have lived, this town has the most train tracks and trains. Of course the trains run at 8:00 and 16:00, right during rush hour. What other time would they run? I mean come on.)

Another evening of studying Path, hating school, desiring escape from this canto of hell, and wishing that at least one good looking girl would emerge, but lets be serious there is some deforming quality to the water in this town. It manifests itself most prevalently at the local Wal-Mart. Home of the 400lb, non-abulatory by choice, shopper. I think they have some sort of experiment ongoing on how large an individual can fit into the motorized carts. Cynical? Harsh? Judgemental? Possibly... but that's life, and those are stereotypes. I'm just putting them in print.

-By the way, I have recently considered a career path in Bariatric surgery, so i really do love these people. Why not bariatrics? The patient population is sky-rocketing, gastric bypass is now covered by medicare, and it's a 45 minute procedure that reimburses nicely (also, I'd be keeping Steve in a job as my anesthesiologist).

As one of my preceptors told me: "Procedures are where the money lies. Procedures."

Zen Running

Earlier this morning on my daily run, I had a Zen-like experience. I was out for an easy 4.5 mi run and decided to run through one of the parks in TH. The park has a paved path that winds through it. There were maybe three other people in the park while I was there, so no one to really bother me. Only one car on the road passed. It was about 45 degrees with overcast skies and light and variable wind. So, just about perfect distance running weather. If only it was 10 degrees warmer... but I refuse to belittle this run. I did the run totally unplugged; I went without a watch or mp3 player. I don't usually do that, but I recommend it every once in a while. I had just started running and was scaling a hill in the park when I felt almost bliss. The birds were chirping, the wind was nil, and there was no one around. It was blissful, solitary, and comforting. It was a rededication to running. Almost as if it was meant to be.

The experience continued through the run as I left the park. I didn't hear the cars as they passed. I felt only mildly tired when I was finished. As I slowed to a stop, I saw my breath as I exhaled. Not only did I see my breath, but as I saw out of the corner of my eye, I saw another source of steam. I looked to see if there was some unknown source near by. Some other source of heat, but nothing was apparent. Then I realized that other source was me. It was heat rolling off my head. (I didn't wear a hat or headband) Then as I was stretching, I noticed that my entire body was generating steam. I saw wisps of steam rising off my shoulders. It was apparent, b/c I was wearing a black L/S Nike Sphere shirt, which wicks pretty well and apparently lets steam through.

Throughout my run I kept thinking about Zen Buddhism and Taoism. I kept thinking about how running connects you to nature, how it keeps you centered and maintains a balance. When you are out on the road, you are fighting the elements. You are expending energy back towards the source of so much extrinsic energy. As you run, continually pounding the ground, energy is released back into the ground. It is absorbed through the repeated sound of the footstrike. The ground accepts it and responds by propelling the foot forward. As the steam was eminating from my body (head, shoulders, feet, mouth) the air was absorbing it silently, and using it for another purpose. As much as the flapping of a butterfly's wings in Brazil causes rain in Madagascar, my energy was in the like being used to generate some other force, some as yet unknown result of my labors.

for Beto and Katan

This post is totally designated for Beto and Katan.

The week of March 27th through April 2nd is National Sleep Awareness Week. What exactly does this mean? It is designed to promote education about proper sleep I assume. You can check out the website at National Sleep Foundation. There is also a Sleep IQ Test. Check it out if you have time.

I wonder what they would say about staying up until 3 AM IMing with a class at 8?

Reality check

This post is a comment that I left on Ah Yes, Medical School. The author of the blog is hilarious. There is a common consensus among my friends who religiously read his blog, that he could write comedy if he wanted. Instead, he fell into the trap that the rest of us similarly fell into: medicine. His writing style is witty, realistic, and pulls no punches. It is medical school the way it really is. It encapsulates what so many of us think (or will think) on a daily basis. I applaud him for his continued efforts at humor and in some way educating those who are not in medicine. KUDOS!

-Not everything is peaches and butterflies. The unfortunate aspect of medicine is that it breeds red-liners. We are driven to achieve more than we thought possible at the outset. We are tested in a trial by fire every day. That is not exactly the type of environment that nurtures fun loving, happy-go-lucky people who see things through rose-colored glasses.

Yes, medicine it tough; it does harden your personality and sense of humor. You start to joke about autopsies and anatomy lab. It is a defense mechanism to separate yourself from the truly graphic nature of the tasks you are performing. It becomes second nature to look for release, by any means possible.

I do agree that balance is a good thing, but again medicine is full of red-liners who go 150 mph and then have to decompensate at some point. We study hard and party hard(er).

This is not limited to physicians, other people in the medical field experience this too. We do relate to a "non-medical" population. It just takes a second to put your mind in that mode. I'm sure you don't go around every day talking about having dyspnea or a case of acute eczematous dermatitis (that's shortness of breath and poison ivy for everyone playing along at home).

Medicine is another language and a different mindset. So, sometimes it is difficult to switch back. It is similar to being in a different country for an expanded period of time and then coming back to the US. There is an associated culture shock that goes along with it.

I am not an apologist; I'm a realist that deals with life and all the situations it brings. Life is tough. It hits you in the face and asks no questions. It pulls no punches and neither should I. But this blog does pull punches and makes an attempt to not be completely offensive to "non-medical" types. Again, if you don't like what I have to say, don't read my blog. You can comment and I won't delete it, but I'm not forcing you to continue to read.

-Justin Martyr (only religiously inclined people would understand, but whatever. Educate yourself!)

apathy

If you don't like my blog or what I have to say, don't read it. I don't care if you don't agree with my politics. I have enough friends.

BBall Time

As you all know (and if you don't, close this window right now) we are in the season of unproductiveness. Spring, yes, but more importantly March Madness. With all these games on television, I haven't seen better broadcasting since Olympic Ice Dancing with Tanith Belbin or Curling with Cassie Johnson. Granted, these girls are much better looking and more nimble, but they can't post up against LSU's Big Baby Glen Davis (but then again who can?). Why fight this urge to watch basketball? Why do something more productive? These games are some of the best finishes I've seen since some of Peter North's escapades.

Okay, that had two references to olympic athletes, a reference to college basketball, and a porn reference. I'm doing well so far.

To finish up this post, I need to work in the word of the day. Due to the recent increase in disaffection towards a certain individual. My new metier will be to continue the spread of dislike and contempt for the rest of this semester, clinical rotations, and anyone else who comes into contact with aforementioned individual.

-SAMM founder and current executioner

P.S. Cardiology- why not? If you are inginuitive you can end up wearing Versace to clinic and hand out thousand dollar scholarships and Darth Vader stethoscopes like water.

25 Keys of Running

So, as is my perogative, I will continue to voice my opinion on articles on runnersworld.com pro or con (mostly pro). This edition of my article review is devoted to some key points to running. These might be in a book somewhere, they might have just been developed by people shooting the breeze on a run. Or, the least possible scenario: a physician developed them. For someone who has been running competitively to semi-competitively for over a decade, most of these come as common sense to me. I realized as I was purusing them, that other people might not think of them as common sense. They might even see some of these rules as counter-intuitive. I'll highlight some of my favorites, but I strongly encourage you to read the entire article. I know it is a bit long, but you can speed read through it.

The 2-Day rule: If something hurts for two straight days while running. Take two days off.
The Heads-Beats-Tails rule: A headwind slows you down more than a tailwind speeds you up. (I discussed this with one of my friends while cycling the other day. We used physics to explain it, but I'll keep it non-science as possible) Running into a headwind can slow you down to half speed, but the tailwind can't possibly speed you up to twice your pace. Okay, I have to put some numbers to this: running at 10 mi/h into a 5 mi/h headwind slows you to 5 mi/h, but running with a 5 mi/h tailwind at 10 mi/h only equals 15 mi/h at most, not 20 mi/h. Using physics: think of it in terms of vectors.
The Seven Year rule: Runners improve for about seven years until they plateau. Lower mileage runners improve longer.
The Sleep rule: Sleep an extra minute per night for every mile that you run in a week. Ex: Doing a 25 mile week? Sleep an extra 25 minutes EACH night.

Also, check out the dress for success table to know how to dress properly for different weather conditions.

The 25 Golden Rules of Running

Update on Sport Jelly Beans

So, as promised, I tried out some of the Sport Jelly Beans made by Jelly Belly. I was on a ride with one of my buddies. We went for 35 miles at a medium pace. I used half the bag of beans at about 18 miles and then the rest at about 33 miles. It kinda sucked because I didn't really get the bag open all the way and was basically sucking the beans out of the bag. (that didn't sound great, but... whatever) So, we were tooling along and I snagged some of the beans to recharge. As I popped them in I noticed, as I began to chew them, that they basically turned into a gel. Which isn't exactly what I expected, but nevertheless I watered them down as you are supposed to do with gel, and as I recommended. I tried the Lemon-lime flavored ones and basically they tasted like gatorade flavored gel. They were sugary, but I didn't really notice any effects other than ones similar to eating regular jelly beans. Just like eating any kind of sugar on the bike. I would rather eat a granola bar or a Snickers Marathon, a favorite of mine.

The beans were as I expected them to be, a meager attempt by Jelly Belly to enter the sport supplement market. They would be better served by remaining in their key demographic (kids) and stick to their main draw: Jelly Beans as candy. It seems that these beans turned to gel immediately. I don't remember the regular Jelly Beans doing that, although, I haven't had regular Jelly Beans in years, so understandably I don't remember the texture of chewing 5 Jelly Beans. I believe the other flavor is orange. If anyone tries that flavor, let me know what you think. I am interested.

Also, if anyone has used Accelerade as a sport drink let me know. I'm interested to see whether people think it makes a difference as compared to other supplements. For those of you that aren't familiar with Accelerade, it has the normal electrolyte composition of sodium, glucose, and potassium. The main difference is that Accelerade also has a protein component to it, albeit a smaller percentage of the total drink than say glucose. Accelerade uses the ratio of 4 grams of carbos to 1 gram of protein. Accelerade claims that the protein content increases the ability of your body to absorb the other electrolytes. It is not a protein drink per se, but their claim is that during a workout the protein is used to actively build muscles. It is also supposed to increase the content of muscle glycogen.
Visit their website at: Accelerade.com
To read more about their "research" visit: Accelerade.com: Studies

Erin Go Braugh

Happy St. Patty's Day.
I encourage you to go out and have a Guinness, a Harp's, a Smithwicks', or a shot of Bushmill's. No one get a dooey. I hear they aren't fun.

"Everyone's Irish on St. Patty's Day."

Vail

So... Vail, the Valhalla for skiiers and boarders (as was quoted from Fodor's guide to the Rocky Mountains), what more can I say? With 5268 acres of mounatin space, 34 lifts, and 16" of snow in the past 7 days, Vail is well... Vail. It is in a class by itself. It has a plethora of off track, unmarked trails. It has plenty of blacks and double blacks to break your neck on. Basically, if I could spend a season there I would. So, interesting story time, or will I continue to rant? Ok, story time:

When we last left Colorado, my lungs were burning with the fury of a Texas brush fire. We made our trek to Vail, a mere half an hour from the 3K site. We were scheduled to stay with friends in the Valley. Once we arrived in Vail, we (Sweet) had already called our people three times to no avail. So, we did what any tired travelers would do after running a 3K race and then walking an additional 3K in snowshoes and freezing in the 15 degree weather without warm beverages, we went to the marquee business operation for the United States: Safeway. Okay, we went to the Safeway b/c there was a Starbucks inside. (It's Vail, there's a Starbucks everywhere. They served Starbucks at the lodges on top of the mountain for Pete's sake.) So, we drank our assorted caffeinated beverages and waited. We waited, and waited, and then avoided some psycho girl that Sweet knew, and waited some more. Sweet continually called our hook up and the messages got funnier. It was reminiscent of Office Space when Lumberg continually calls Peter. We also witnessed some guy running his business, whatever it might be, from the Starbucks portion of Safeway. That or he was buying illegal goods, but that could have been his business. So I'm not sure. I digress (you can tell I've been hanging out with DLMWS, my stories seem to ramble for hours. Here is a real aside, Sweet told a story that I swear was 15 mintues long. Then he retold the same story that night. We all gave him blank stares for the second time around).

So, we finally arrive where we are staying for the night: an amazing house in West Vail with 6 or 7 bedrooms and a bathroom every 10 feet. This house was pimp. So, we walk in the front door and are met by a cloud of some herbal smell. Now, I won't say what the smell eminated from, but it rhymes with "mead". I saw the bag of "mead," and it looked like a giant "mead" popsicle. It was probably close to a QP, for those of you who know what that is. So, we hung out and ate at the "mead house" and finally passed out, only to wake up to loud music and carousing at 1 AM ish. I felt like I was back in pledgeship when people would come through the cold dorm at 3AM drunk and loud. So, a brief smile crept onto my face. It quickly faded as I passed out again.

I awoke to the sound of a phone ringing, only to realize it was my own. I didn't get to it in time, but I did see who it was and wondered why said person was calling. Congrats Mike. Biz is awesome. Another one bites the dust. There are still 11 of us hanging tough. (13 if you count the MIAs) Keep strong fellas.

So, fast forward to us on the mountain. It was all good, until we got to the back bowls and realized that a cloud had settled on the mountain. Visibility: poor. We also had to get to the other side of the mountain to get to the bowls that we wanted to ski. So, we had to go down a run to get us to the other side. Easy right? No, we chose a black with multiple mogul runs with 4 inches of powder covering icy moguls. Oh, and we couldn't see 100 ft. due to the fog. So, we got down after many trials and tribulations. Yes, I hit the ground more than Paris Hilton's underwear on Valentine's Day. It was not pretty, but we made it.

For the next 2 hours we had some good runs. Pynner and I decided to hit the head and wait for Spoo and Sweet to finish a run or two. So, we treked to the lodge only to discover that it was in a white-out. We lunched and decided to head down the mountain (some people had soccer games to play). So, outside the lodge the visibility was 100 ft. We got to the first run and the visibility was 75 ft. On the way down, the visibility got to 50 ft. Suddenly we were in the middle of a blizzard trying to navi down a run that we can't see. We hardly saw each other. It honestly looked as if we skiied into a bottle of white-out. There was no color separation: all white. (So basically Sweet was right at home. Aryans...)

We hurried down the mountain, took some pics, and loaded up cars, only to run into bumper to bumper traffic all the way to Denver. A normal 90 minute drive took approx. 4 hours. On the bright side, Sweet and I got a healthy dose of exhaust for a couple hours and got cut-off by a guy who had "I kill Tail-Gaters" on his bumper. How fitting. Then Tiny danced on him.

Conditions: hey, my lungs don't hurt as bad, but I still have something living in them.

Music: Against Me!

blogging from Denver

I'm in Denver. It's sunny and 30ish, so not bad for March 14th. Here's an update on the events that have occurred recently: Susan Komen Romp to Stomp 3K Snowshoe Race: what someone stabbing a knife into your lungs must feel like. So, I knew that the race was going to suck, but this really sucked. It all started when we had 5 minutes to the gun upon arriving at the start. Warmup you ask? Nay. So, I strapped snowshoes on for the first time, never having taken a step in them and prepared myself for racing at 9600 ft. in elevation (also having never done previously). The gun sounded and we were off. I asked my friend from college, Denver native, previous cross country runner what pace to take. He said, "something slow." "Okay," I said to myself. 8 min/mi is pretty slow. I started at my 8 min/mi pace only to realize I was leading the damn race. Now, for a previous sprinter, this is a good thing. Your leading the race, setting the pace, not a bad deal. I was feeling good. Lung felt fine; legs felt fine. We were on groomed snow, so not really needing the snowshoes. All of a sudden, I see the track veers right, into the woods. Suddenly we are now single track, going uphill and fast. Now, I'm feeling some twinge of exertion. And then it happens. We're about 400 meters from the start, and my lungs start to feel like someone set them on fire in my chest. I go into oxygen debt and realize I'm slowing down. FAST. My 8 min/mi pace becomes 9, 10, shit: I have to walk. Okay, I still can't breathe. Time to stop. Yep, that's right. I usually run a mile or so warm up normally, and I have to stop about 500 meters after starting a race. I step to the side of the track and let Sweet by. Along with about 30 other people, even before I can catch my breath. My 3K race, turned into a 3K walk/jog of hell. So, after humbling myself greatly, I regain my breath and continue on. Uphill, uphill, uphill, are we ever going to flatten out? Finally the course plateaus and I can jog. And now, we descend. A nice and easy 45 degrees down bubble on a single track with snowshoes onto mixed powder and track. (Not safe) Finally get down level again and have to walk some more. I drag myself to the finish line into a crowd of people that doesn't part; I feel like puking on their snowshoes, which Sweet did apparently. Apparently, this course was designed by a chick who is the national champion of snowshoeing. I'll look her up and give you names after I get back to my base of operations.

3K race: "I wish that had turned out better."

Vail: next post (involves a blizzard, hellish driving conditions, and illegal substances) I'll get some pics up ASAP.

Altitude training/running: soon to come

Current condition: damn my lungs are still burning and now i have a bug living in them.

Legs: RETURNED

This story was recently brought to my attention by one of my readers and friends. In an update to one of my previous posts entitled Give me my leg back!! I chronicled a young 16 year old girl who was hit by a car and had her leg amputated (I don't know if it was ATK or BTK so don't ask). She was fitted for a prosthesis and went on with her life, until that device along with another was stolen from her house in Arcadia, CA. The legs, not stolen once, but twice were recently found in the mother's unlocked car in Arcadia High School's parking lot. The legs were returned in working order, but with graffiti on them. The girl was to pick up another replacement leg this Friday. Teen's stolen legs returned

Okay, so someone stole the legs. For whatever purpose we will never know. Vandalized them, and then returned them. I'm so flabbergasted it's unbelieveable. And did you notice that the mother's car was unlocked in the parking lot? I don't know what kind of town these people live in, but if my daughter's LEGS were stolen from our house, I'd be at least locking my car doors. Maybe there is another underlying subplot that the media isn't reporting (I know, imagine that. The media not report the whole story?). Maybe it's possible that this girl routinely beat people over the head with her legs. Maybe she used them as air guitars. Maybe she threw them like boomerangs. And the person who stole the legs was the usual target of these attacks. Maybe they were protecting themselves from assault by stealing this girl's legs. Maybe they were taking them for their little sister who was also hit by a car (I've proposed this theory before). Maybe... No, probably not. These morons that stole the legs were probably just that morons, trying to be funny or trying to support their crack habit the only way they knew how: stealing. Either way, karma will follow these theives and they will be paid their retribution sooner or later.

Another idea: put a tracking device on those legs, damn. Trick them out with some GPS or something. Frivolous, yes, but taking into consideration they have already been stolen twice, not that far off base.

Off to the races

So, once again while out running in the wonderful bustling metropolis that is Terre Haute, IN, I was harrassed by a canine. Granted, this time it was not three dogs, led by a giant poodle, but it was a dog that came within a yard of biting my calves clean off. I was running on a sidewalk, not the best place to run for your knees, but... you make due. Over the mix I was jamming to I heard the familiar sounds of one pissed off canine. I heard several barks, turned my head, and saw some kind of mutt dog, no bigger than a small retriever, at my heels. GO TIME!!! Of course this comes at an inopportune time, when I have already gone about 7 miles and I'm slightly fatigued. No matter, endorphins to the rescue. So, after exhasuting a good supply of catecholamines from my adrenal cortex, I was safely out of harm's way. What was my first thought after thanking the Lord that I still had all my parts intact? Why the @#%$ can't the people in this town keep their dogs a.) on a leash b.) INSIDE for once c.) inside an electric fence d.) trained? Nonetheless, I continued on my path, pissed off at an animal that lacks the ability of self-awareness and self-consciousness. Maybe I'll invest in a dog repellant...

Plans for the week:
This weekend I will be in Colorado racing for the Susan Komen Foundation in a 3K snowshoe race on Saturday. Then, on Sunday, I will be skiing in Vail. A nice break from the grind of having my nose pressed in a book 18 hours a day. Now, I know what you fellow runners are thinking: 3K? That's my warm up. Why race 3K? And, I'll answer you. First, it's a SNOWSHOE race. You're racing on snow. Ever tried that before? Ok, me neither, but I'll let you know. Second, it's a 12,000 ft. in elevation. Now, for comparison, the highest point in Indiana I believe is something like 920 feet above sea level. Now, imagine running the 3K, but in vertical elevation. Now you see the difficulty. I will be at a distinct disadvantage to all the people that live in Frisco (where the race is) or in Denver (which is at approx. 5500 ft. and where my friend lives). The other problem with the drastic change in elevation over a short time span is the same problem that is faced by climbers. Altitude sickness. Not a big deal you say? Well, after you get passed the worst headache of your life and the vomiting, you still have the pulmonary and cerebral edema possibility. (That is a bad thing, for the non-medically inclined.) Worried you ask? Nay, for I am young and invincible, other than my patellar tendonitis, my repeated shin splints, a propensity for blistering feet during races, and the fact that I'll be racing in single digit temperatures. (Pause for chuckle,noted intended irony, and arrogance)

I'll follow up this jaunt to Colorado with several bike rides with a friend in Ft. Wayne, IN. Average mileage of the ride(s): probably going to be in the 50-60s. Thankfully at lower elevation than Colorado, but still demanding in their own regard, since my friend is a cycling fanatic. I will need a week break to recover after my Spring Break.

Save travels to everyone that is leaving the state, going to California, Mississippi, or wherever.

Current study music: some techno podcast that i found on iTunes called Percussion Lab Presents.

Man's Guide

Here is a little chicken soup for your heathenous, self-deprecating, perverted soul:
The Male's Guide to Faking It.

patience

I know people are anxious for another post. All in good time. I am formulating some ideas and researching others. No one likes a pre-mature anything, so... relax.