Runner down

If you've been following me for any amount of time, either here or on Facebook, you know that I've been having significant left foot pain for quite some time. About a month ago, I was out for a 6 mile training run and must have landed funny on that foot, and experienced excruciating pain. I had to stop running and hobble home. At that point, I thought maybe I broke my big toe. But after icing and resting, the pain subsided to a dull ache. I was worried about an upcoming race that week, and decided to consult the sports medicine doctor at work. We talked about my history with that big toe, that I knew there was a bone spur in the 1st MPJ and maybe some arthritis. He cautioned me about running the race and gave me a prescription for Voltaren topical gel (an NSAID, much like ibuprofen) to apply to the joint as needed for pain.

As the week went on, I was able to run again, with minimal discomfort. There was some throbbing after I ran, so I used the Voltaren gel. But what actually hurt was walking. I found that odd, but continued to plan for my upcoming race. To my happiness and amazement, the race was a success, I actually ran a PR, and had no toe pain. I figured the joint was inflamed but since I was running so well, nothing serious was going on, and continued to train and plan for my upcoming half marathon, scheduled for May 18.

This runner isn't experiencing any pain!

The sports med doc stopped by my office after the race and asked how it went. When I told him, he shook his head in disbelief. He offered to inject the joint with a steroid the week before my half, but told me he wanted to do an xray, just to make sure nothing else was going on in the foot. I scheduled my appointment. During that visit, he took a history, did an exam, and reviewed the xray with me. He saw the bone spur and a mild effusion in the joint. Using ultrasound, he injected a steroid into the joint and sent me home.

A few hours later, he called me. Feeling that there was something unusual about my xray, he had reviewed the xray with the radiologist and found a healing fracture on the corner of the 1st MPJ. They figured the fracture was about a month old, which makes sense, considering when I had that painful run. He was kicking himself for giving me the injection without reviewing the xray more closely. We talked for a while, and he said that the steroid might prolong the healing process. Maybe not, he said, since the fracture was already healing. But he got strict with me and told me that he really wanted me to avoid weight bearing exercise for 2-3 weeks, at which point he would do another xray.

While the news didn't surprise me, I felt like I was going to cry. I went to my closet and pulled out the boot, which I had used 2 years ago for my previous stress fracture. I called my husband, who was much more surprised than me.

The fracture

The next day at work, the sports med doc came to see me. He pulled up my xray, and showed me the fracture. The bone spur was also there, and he thinks that may have led to the fracture. I called it a stress fracture and he emphasized that it was not a stress fracture. "This is a fracture," he said. Much more serious than a stress fracture. He outlined activities I could participate in to maintain fitness. No weight bearing exercise. I could bike and swim. I can do weight lifting and yoga, as long as it doesn't put pressure on the joint. I asked about bone density and he doesn't think that is an issue. We also talked about how odd it was that I was able to run pain free but experienced significant pain while walking. Mechanics, I guess. That heel striking finally paid off! I told him he would probably have to prescribe Prozac for me, and he laughed.

Think I'll take a pass on these babies!

While I'm trying to keep a sense of humor, I'm pretty sad about all this. I wonder why this is happening. I've been running for almost 25 years. Could it be the wear and tear of all the pounding on my feet? When minimalist running and Vibram Five Fingers became the thing a few years ago, I looked the other way. Stuck with my super-cushy Asics Gel Nimbus, which I have worn for years. I have had major issues with my feet ever since I ran the Chicago Marathon 3 years ago. At this point I seriously doubt that I have a marathon in my future. But what about the halfs I have planned for this year? Obviously, the one next week is out. But I have Zooma in August and was planning on the Naperville half for November. Since they are both a good couple of months away and apart, that may be ok. My goal of 4 for this year may not be achievable.

I've never been one to sit back and accept my limitations. In fact, I've been much more apt to push them. For the next 3 weeks, I'll have plenty of time to think about all this.

Have you ever been sidelined by a serious injury? What did you do to maintain your sanity?

Happy

Finally, a sunny day! I decided to do my longish run this morning to take advantage of the great weather conditions. There was a small glitch though...

That's right, my friend the wind is back. It seems that we in the midwest cannot catch a break from Mother Nature...we get cold, rainy, and windy all week or warm, sunny, and windy today. Still, I'll take the sunshine any day. Actually, it is pretty windy here most of the year. I did a little research and found out that Chicago is the 2d windiest city in the US. The dubious honor of the most windy city is held by Boston. Once again, we are the "second city". By the way, Chicago earned the nickname "The Windy City" back in the 1800's, not because of our weather conditions, but because of our long-winded politicians. 

Anyways, after viewing the weather conditions and the direction of the wind, I headed to the fitness trail, which is west of me. It is an out and back trail, an 11 mile round trip total from my home. I figured I could run into the wind for the first half of the run and then head home with the wind at my back. I planned on 8 miles for today. 

My legs felt heavy as I headed out. This week at my crossfit training session, Becky had me do a ton of squats, lunges, and slam balls. My quads and adductors really got a workout, and I was fairly sore yesterday. Last night I did some foam rolling, but apparently not enough, because I was still feeling the effects of that workout this morning. Between my sore quads and the wind, those first 3 miles were tough. My splits of 9:10 reflect it! I actually thought about turning around and heading home, but decided to press on. The path gets prettier as I head on, and I wanted to keep going. Plus I knew the trip home would be a breeze (literally!).

At the 3 mile mark, I either cross a busy street or head under it via a tunnel. This tunnel really creeps me out. There is always a ton of graffiti on the walls, and I've encountered a few creepers either in it or around it. I don't know if it is because it is close to the library or what, but I usually don't run through it except on the weekends when there is a fair amount of traffic on the path. I picked up the pace as I headed through.

Once I pass through the tunnel, I run along the creek and through a fairly forested area. It's actually really pretty, and somewhat of an oasis in the middle of the overbuilt northwest suburbs of Chicago. The path crosses over the creek several times. When my kids were little, I'd take them on bike rides through here and riding over the bridges was a highlight for them. I thought about this as I crossed over the first bridge. As I exited the wooded area, I saw something they would have loved--I came to this structure: 

Clearly, somebody has been busy this spring! This little hut had small benches inside. I wondered who built it--probably some kids, right? Although the construction was pretty clever...I stopped to take the picture but then kept moving and thought about it for a while. I see a lot of weird stuff in the particular section of the path, and I think a lot of kids go there for mischief. My husband thought maybe the homeless people built it. Seems like a lot of work went into it. No one was around today, though.

I kept heading west, but the wind wasn't as much of a factor and my legs loosened up quite a bit. I decided go a little bit further, and turn around at the golf course, which would be about 9 miles total. I looked for water at this point but there was none! As I headed back, the wind pretty much pushed me down the path and it was so much more pleasant. There are quite a few ponds along the path, which makes for some nice scenery. There were a lot of geese (and their droppings) and ducks as well. 

I retraced my steps towards home. The wind blew me up a steep hill, which helped, and I headed back into the wooded section along the creek. I found a drinking fountain near a park. The song "Happy" was playing on my playlist and then I saw this: 

As I headed towards home, I stopped to take one more photo. It was where I had taken one of my selfies in January, on a very cold, blustery but sunny day.

What a difference 5 months makes. This was a good run. And I was happy.

Short stuff

I can't stop thinking about an unpleasant encounter I had yesterday in my clinic. I try really hard to put visits like this behind me, but this one really struck a chord with me. Yesterday, a 2 year old was on my schedule with "growth concerns". I found it odd, since I had just seen him and his 5 year old sibling a few weeks earlier for physicals. They were new patients to me and to my clinic, but were healthy children and the visits were uneventful. I made a plan with the mother to see the 2 year old in 6 months for another check up.

Prior to entering the exam room, I reviewed the growth chart. Everything looked normal, and the child was growing appropriately. When I entered the room, the mother explained to me that the child's father was concerned about his size. When the father entered the room, he basically took control of the visit.

Maurice Jones Drew, 5'7 former running back for the Jacksonville Jaguars; now with the Oakland Raiders

"He's small and I'm concerned about that", he said, talking about his 2 year old son. He went on to tell me that he knows how small boys have problems and he wanted a workup done to make sure there was nothing wrong with his son. After all, he pointed out to me, he himself was 6'1 and their mother was 5'7. He felt that it was not be possible for him to have a small son. He also told me that he wanted his boys to be athletes, and short men just aren't good athletes. He compared this boy to his older son, who is big for his age. He just didn't understand why his younger son wasn't growing like his older brother. Another concern was that his son is a picky eater. He wanted to know what he could do to maximize his son's growth; to make sure he reaches his "full potential". He wanted to know about growth hormone.

I don't know how I kept self control during this visit. I think part of me was so shocked that words like this would even come out of a person's mouth. And believe me, I hear it all, and it takes a lot to shock me. I looked at his adorable 2 year old son with the big blue eyes who was running around the room while we talked.

But what I did was put on my clinician hat. Reviewed the growth chart and showed him his son's linear progression along his percentile curve. Talked about normal eating habits of 2 year olds. Talked about differing growth patterns of siblings. But this dad was having none of that. So reluctantly, I ordered an xray to evaluate bone age and gave him a referral to an endocrinologist. I did all this, even though there would be no work up, no intervention in a 2 year old child. It is simply too early to predict what this child's growth would be. I told the dad this. He still wanted to proceed with the work up.

I thought a lot about this on my drive home. This visit troubled me so much. I try not to personalize encounters like this, but I couldn't help but think about my 2 sons. One, who is tall and lanky, the other who is short and still growing, but probably won't be taller than 5'8, if I could predict...who has the heart of an athlete and gives his all in every sport he plays. He has a great self esteem in spite of being smaller than most of his peers and is extremely well liked (a little too well liked, he needs to focus on his school work more than his social life!). But he's happy and well adjusted. This conversation with that father made my heart hurt for my son.

This is my son, #80, tackling, in a game last fall.

And I thought a lot about all the runners I see on the road when I run races. The last race I ran, the 10 miler, a woman who probably was 4'6--almost a foot shorter than me-- kept pace with me most of the race. When I ran Chicago, people who were twice my size were passing me! My husband always expresses amazement at all the runners who "don't look like runners" but sure can move. There's no denying size matters to a certain extent, but it isn't the only factor affecting athletic ability! Athletes come in all shapes and sizes.

And how many of us or our kids, are going to be good enough to play professional sports? What about participating in a sport for the camaraderie, the physical benefits, the confidence... taking pride in personal achievements? Being the best that we can be?

I took a leap and asked this dad what he would do if his son turned out to be small? I told him basically "you get what you get" when it comes to your genetic makeup. That it would be important to have self confidence and self esteem.

"Oh, of course", he said. And asked me where the endocrinologist's office was located.

The Hawk

I woke up early to a loud thud. My youngest son fell out of his bed. He told me he had a dream and rolled onto the floor. I laid awake for an hour after that, and finally got out of bed. I had a long run planned today, but it was a gray, wet morning, and combined with my lack of sleep, a long run didn't seem at all appealing to me. I knew I was going to have dig deep to find the motivation to do this one.

Today was a planned 12 miler. I have a half marathon coming up in 3 weeks, and I needed a long run. I wanted to run on the fitness path where I did a lot of my training over the winter. The entire path is 11 miles from my house and back. I figured I could add on an extra mile at the end, traversing through my neighborhood.

I sipped on my coffee and checked this morning's weather. The current conditions and forecast didn't help my lack of motivation.

It wasn't the temperature that scared me, it was that wind. 

Living near Chicago (even though I'm 15 miles from the lake) means that a lot of our weather is affected by the winds off Lake Michigan, which is due east from where I live. Weathermen often refer to that wind off the lake as the "hawk". Sun-Times columnist Mary Mitchell wrote an essay about the hawk earlier this spring. Wind traveling across the lake is cooled by the water temperature and blows cool--heck cold--pretty far west, depending on the strength of the wind. When the wind direction is in the east or the northeast, I can count on a pretty raw feel to the air. I have to plan my route accordingly. I suppose I could drive an hour west and find much, much warmer conditions. And yes, I'm a weather nerd. In case you were thinking that.

The fitness path I wanted to take is west of me, and the returning 6 miles would be directly into the wind. Knowing that I didn't want to run that hard on my way home, I changed my plans, and decided to run the other direction to the local retention pond, which is east, dealing with the wind mainly the first half of my run. I knew that the wind across the lake water would be tough to deal with too. So I picked what seemed to be the lesser of the two evils.

The first 2.5 miles to the park were as brutal as any I can remember in recent history. The wind, which was blowing right through me, would occasionally gust and I felt like I was being pushed backwards. Truly. It also started to lightly rain. Sure, why not? I felt like turning around and heading home. It would have been easy, and the wind would be at my back, pushing me home.

But no. Must run....

I got to the park and as I approached, tried to gauge the wind off the lake and decide which direction I wanted to run. With the wind blowing straight east across the water, it didn't seem to matter which way I ran, so I followed the posted rules and ran in the pedestrian lanes. The lake is a mile long, and so I plodded along with the wind at my face. I kept thinking that I had to do this 2 more times. I kept telling myself that the wind would be at my back very soon. Hang in there!

At the end of the north side of the lake, I rounded to the other side and voila! the wind was at my back. I fairly zipped along as my run felt effortless. I felt great! My legs felt light! I felt like a Kenyan! Ok, not that fast...but still! I passed some walkers bundled up like it was January, not late April. Of course they weren't moving very fast, probably not working up a sweat. 

I believe that I looked like the wicked witch of the west with the wind at my back--it was blowing all my hair forward. And there were whitecaps on this little lake!

I made one trip around, and continued on to my second lap. Back into the wind. Hating running at this point, I felt my legs slowing down but I kept pushing forward. As I rounded the end of the lake, I saw a rollerblader coming towards me. There is a small hill down and around the corner and I thought he was going to wipe out. Arms flailing, he righted himself and shuffled along. No helmet, I thought to myself. Not good. Now with the wind at my back again, I picked up speed and headed towards the park shelter, where I could get water and take a gel, with the hope that I might get a little boost.

About halfway down that side of the lake, my stomach began to rumble. Good thing I decided to run to the park today, because there are bathrooms. Looked like a pit stop was in order. I took care of business and took my gel. I decided to change directions for my final loop, rounding the lake in the opposite direction, hoping that maybe, just maybe the wind would be calmer on the the south side of the lake.

Nope. Grumble, mumble, grumble, I pushed ahead, into the wind. I approached the end of the lake again, and happily left the wind behind. As I ran my final lap towards the shelter, I came up behind the roller blader. He was still flailing and taking choppy strides. All I could think to myself was that he was going to hit the pavement and I was going to have to stop to help him. I pictured his cracked skull and blood on the path. My mind went wild with this scenario. Not at all up for that challenge, I picked up speed and shockingly, I passed him. So not only was he dangerous on wheels, he was slow too. I felt like a total stud, passing someone on wheels. When does that ever happen? I wanted to say something to him, tell him to get a helmet or some lessons or something, but I pushed ahead, relieved that he would no longer be my problem. 

I completed that lap, and crossed the street to another little park and headed towards home. The path in this park takes me over a creek and out to a very busy suburban arterial road. I had to run east briefly and that wind! the hawk! almost brought me to my knees. Thankfully the rest of my run was with the wind at my back. I ran on the sidewalk and came to a busy intersection. The traffic signal was green, but as I approached I kept praying: please turn red, please turn red. I wanted to stop and catch my breath. But noooooo, it was green and so I plodded through the intersection. The next light turned red and I took that opportunity to breathe and stretch out my hamstrings, which were starting to complain.

The other body part that began talking to me at this point, which was mile 10, was my toe. Yep. My toe has been behaving itself, occasionally reminding me that it is still angry, but hasn't sent any signals to me lately. When I started to feel it twinge, I adjusted my gait. It occurred to me at that point that leg fatigue certainly affects my stride, and that maybe I'm landing too hard on the toe. Once I had that awareness and made some adjustments, the toe quieted down again. 

I got to the park in my neighborhood. Mile 10.3. Decision time. Do I go home and call it a day at 11 miles? Or do I push on for the 12 I set out to do? I thought about my upcoming race. I knew I would do okay even without this long run. But I made a commitment to myself to do 12, and I'm a woman of my word. It would be a mental victory for me as well. So I circled around the park, and headed up the frontage road for one more mile. I ran past the church, where the masses are in Spanish and the parishioners pour in. I went to mass there once with the people I used to work with. The mass is exactly the same except in Spanish. So I knew what was going on. The funny thing was, the priest spoke to me in English when I went to receive communion. How did he know? 

I finally turned onto my street.

Wouldn't you know it, my Garmin read 11.95 when I got to my house? So I ran an extra block, got to 12, and told my OCD to hush. 

I was surprised at what I saw on my Garmin: 

That run was hard. But I'm happy with that finish time! My fastest split time was mile 8, when I passed the inept rollerblader. My slowest split time was mile 11, when my toe started talking to me. 

Glad I got it done. I hope I can bring it to my half. And I hope the hawk stays away.

Anyone do a long run today? How was it? Do you have to plan your running route according to the weather? How many weather apps do you have on your phone? 

Monday linkup #bestfoot

Taking out the trash

I recently read an article titled: Rethinking Junk Miles. The article caught my eye, because the term "junk miles" really gets under my skin. For the article, the author redefined the term as "recovery runs". He discussed how so-called recovery runs can be useful to runners who run more than 4 days/week or who have high weekly mileage. Apparently even Kenyans use these long, slow runs to aid in "freshening up the legs" after hard workouts.

Ok, that's good and all, but let's go back to the original term "junk miles". Because that's where I get stuck. I have to admit that most of my runs are without purpose. I head out the door on my runs with a mileage goal, but I let the rest of the run be dictated by how I feel. So does this mean most of my miles are what are considered "junk miles"?

I don't stick to a formal training plan. Seems too much like work to me. The only planning I do is when I'm training for a race. I throw in a long run every week because I need the miles. And because I do like to run far.

I don't do much speedwork, unless the weather forces me onto the treadmill. Which happens at least once/week during the winter. Those intervals really help break up the monotony; makes the time pass quickly.

Tempo runs? Or as Runners World calls them: "comfortably hard runs"? An oxymoron if I've ever heard one. I don't purposely plan on on tempo runs but I guess I do them, because there are days when I hit the pavement and feel like I'm flying. And fly I do. Once I get going, I push myself to maintain that speedy pace. Never planned, but mission accomplished, in a way...

Fartleks? If I eat something obnoxious before I run I have GI issues...oh wait, TMI, that isn't a fartlek. Fartlek is Swedish for "speed play". I suppose I do fartleks too (lol!--sorry, farts are funny) --sprinting fast to a short destination, like the sign or tree up ahead, and then taking time to recover before I do it all over again.

But truth be told almost all of my runs are unplanned. I go with what my legs give me that day. I run because I love it. I run because I think it's fun. Some days, obviously, it is not. Some days it really sucks. But there is always the next run. I look forward to my runs as a release, as time to lose myself in the pace and the music, and as time for myself.

And would following a training plan really make a difference in my finish times? I'm not discounting training plans but I'm not an elite athlete. I followed a training plan for my Chicago Marathon, and look where that got me. Crashed and burned. Hindsight may be 20/20, but I seem to do my best when I listen to my body.

I get it, too many easy runs can affect a runner's finish times. But we need those "easy" runs, if for nothing else to remind us of why we became runners in the first place.

Junk miles? I hate to think of any of my miles as junk. Junk implies that those miles are garbage, worthless, useless. No matter how I run, fast or slow, short or far, my miles never feel wasteful. Sorry. Running isn't my job. It's my passion.

Ok runners, how about you? What do you think about "junk miles"? Are you pretty strict about your training? Or do you just wing it, like me?

Never satisfied

Truth.

But what if your dream comes true, your goals are achieved, but you want more?

That would be me.

I don't know what makes me tick, but I have always been one to push my limits--in running and in life.

Big life goals I've achieved so far include becoming a mom twice after 2 IVF cycles; becoming a nurse practitioner; and running a marathon. A lot of people my age are starting to sit back and take stock of their lives, slowing down.

I haven't gotten to that stage yet. Maybe I never will.

I've talked about my dissatisfaction with that one marathon, Chicago, where I crashed and burned. This week, watching all the drama surrounding the Boston marathon, I started to toy with the idea of another marathon. Actually, I've been toying with the idea of another marathon for a while.

Huge goal alert:
What I'd really love to do is BQ. I can just hear my husband groaning in the background. Actually I haven't even told him this. I won't. And I don't think this is a goal that is achievable for me. At my age, the BQ qualifying time is 4:00:00. My PB for a half is 1:54, and that was a few years ago. Even using my most recent best half, last November, which was 1:58, my predicted marathon time is 4:07. That would be under the best of circumstances, weather perfect, nerves under control, training impeccable, no injuries.

I just don't think a BQ is in my future. It will never happen. 

But I can't lie. I have Boston Envy.

Do you?

How do I move past this? My dissatisfaction with my one and only marathon, my desire to achieve the unachievable, accept my limitations, and be satisfied? My husband always asks me that question: why can't you just be content?

Can I? I wish I could! Or should I push it?

I'm running my best of my life right now. I laugh...who does that at 51?

My husband and I talked about this tonight. His response: "I really hate to say this but this is most likely the best it is going to get. You need to prepare yourself for the downside. You aren't always going to be able to run like this."

Yep, I'm married to Debbie Downer. 

But inside of me, a little voice tells me he's right. Hard to be an aging runner. Hard to be aging period.

The whole aching toe thing seems to be a sign...

But I say to him...who runs their best at my age? I should have peaked 10 years ago. What's changed? Why now?

Because I'm just not ready to hang it up. Because I took up heavy lifting. Because I refuse to grow up.

Here's the plan. I'll run my planned halfs this year and go from there.

If it all goes well, and I keep running like I have been, then maybe, just maybe, I'll talk to Becky about training me for a spring 2015 marathon. With a goal of 4:00.

You all know I've been doing crossfit. I believe that is what has made the difference in my running. At this point, I don't think I can do traditional marathon training. I need to preserve my body. The longest run the crossfit regimens do is a 16 miler. Yeah, I know all about the mental advantage of the long run. Been there, done that.

Yep. I've made up my mind. I have nothing to lose.

So if I continue to run strong...I'll go for it. If not, I'll accept that it isn't in the cards and move on. I guess.

Liar liar pants on fire

THIS POST HAS BEEN EDITED/UPDATED

Yesterday, while perusing my running pages on Facebook, I came across this post:

Look closely. What do these 4 runners have in common?

If you noticed that they are all wearing the same bib number, you are a winner!

The story behind this post is that the runner in all her excitement about running Boston, posted her bib on Instagram the night before the marathon. Yesterday while going through her race photos, pictures of these runners along with her pictures came up. At that point, she realized what happened. Obviously, these 4 runners made their own bibs out out her picture and ran the race. And took medals at the finish! 

Now being the intrepid journalist that I am, I looked up her finish time, and it was a very respectable 3:31:41. But whose finish time was it, really? Actually, the bandits wouldn't have been timed because they didn't have a chip. But still?

Who does this?

Runners are notoriously honest. To a fault, when asked our finish times after a race, we quote it down to the last second. For example, a runner would answer about a marathon time like this: "oh, I finished that race in 3:14:159265359". Because that's how we are.

But there are dishonest runners, just like any other sport. And so I bring you:

GREAT LIARS IN RUNNING HALL OF FAME

"Why run when I can take the train?"

In 1980, Rosie Ruiz completed the Boston Marathon in a time of 2:31:56. Apparently after starting the race, she hopped on the subway and exited close to finish line, where she crossed first. Suspicions mounted as no one on the racecourse recalled seeing her run. In addition, stories swirled about her qualifying race in the New York City Marathon as well.

"You wanted bling?"

Outside magazine named this man, Dean Reinke, the shadiest man in the racing business. Reinke has a road race company, USRA, but has failed to deliver several times, taking runners' money and cancelling the races. Races that have been run log long lists of complaints from shoddy race amenities to failure of USRA to pay its bills and the charities it promotes. The article is long but a great read.

"No one remembers their first time"

Paul Ryan, who ran as Mitt Romney's VP candidate in 2012, is not shy about his dedication to fitness. He ran Grandma's marathon in 1990, and when asked about his finish time, claimed to not remember his exact time, but estimated it was "under three, high twos". After an investigation by Runner's World magazine, he actually admitted to a finish time of 4:01.

"In my mind, I've run a marathon in every state"

Kip Litton is a Michigan dentist who has posted multiple impressive marathon times; sub 3 hour times. The problem is that other racers never saw him on the race course. The New Yorker wrote a lengthy but again very interesting expose on Litton. In addition to multiple disqualifications for shortcutting races, some of his reported marathon finish times were for races that never happened; races that were made up! Nothing has ever been proven but his marathon prowess doesn't seem to add up.

***************************

There are other stories, but these are the most notorious of late. And how about bandits? Peter Segal, a regular Runners World contributer, confessed several years ago that he has banditted many races. His argument is that banditting is not equivalent to theft, that there are no victims, and that since running is all about fellowship, he just was joining in the fun. Sigh. I don't agree. And I'd say these runners who stole the bib number are pretty stealthy bandits indeed. Amby Burfoot, probably one of the most well known and humble distance runners of our time, wrote a beautiful essay several years ago for the New York Times. And I quote: 

"For true distance runners, to lie about time or distance is to lie to ourselves, to diminish the importance of the many sacrifices we make to reach the starting line. Focus and discipline form the core of a runner’s being; they are what make us put on a reflective vest and run six miles into the sleet at 6 on a dark winter morning."

and

"As aging marathoners, we know that our slowing times don’t diminish us. Like many of our friends, we run and compete for personal reasons. We have learned to take the measure of ourselves, and not to let others define who we are."

and this:

"When we run, we will ourselves to be the best we can be. That is all that matters. Our tribe expects nothing less."

Runners who cheat, who lie, hurt all of us. Wouldn't it be great to see this?

What do you think about runners who cheat? Do they hurt all runners, the sport of running, or just themselves? Have you ever banditted (is that a word?) a race? How do you feel about people who bandit?