Lots of Sweat and Lots of Miles

In January of 2007 I ran my first 15K, the Frostbite 15K here in Richmond. To be honest the only reason I did the race was because Mario was doing it. Mario and I had been playing soccer together for quite some time and he was going to do the Frostbite so I thought I might as well do it also.

Mario ended up not being able to do the race at the last minute. The race was fun and I did well finishing in 1:15. After doing the Frostbite, I decided to do a half marathon. In the spring of 2007 I ran the Shamrock Half Marathon (13.1 miles) in Virginia Beach. I also did well, finishing in just over 1:47.

While running the Shamrock I really started to hurt around mile 9. I remember thinking that there was no way I could run any distances over a half marathon. My quads and IT band were throbbing and burning. One of the things that kept me going was the other runners. If they could do it, I could do it. Also while running at the beginning of the race there was this pacer who was pacing a bunch of younger runners. He was one of those know- it- all guys. He was poo-pooing the Garmin Forerunner training watch which tracks your speed, distance, and pace via GPS. I use the Garmin Forerunner and found it quite useful. This guy was going on about how you can't trust it. I had done some experimenting when I got my Garmin. I compared Google Pedometer, my car odometer, and my Garmin and found that I came up with the same results thereby validating the accuracy of my Garmin. This guy was blah-blah blahing so much that I sped away to get away from him and his group. They did eventually pass me around mile 11 but he did motivate me to run fast for quite a while.

Sometimes during a race I find that mental games can help keep me going when I am tired or hurting. I will spot someone off in the distance in front of me going slightly faster than me or at about the same speed. I use the person as a motivator, dragging me along. Or sometimes I will see somebody with terrible form and think to myself that I can't possibly let them beat me.

For my first ever Half Marathon, I did quite well. I had big kick at the end. Once I saw the finish line and realized I that once I crossed, I could stop and my legs would stop burning, I really stepped it up. I sprinted across the finish line and then walked through the chute collecting my medal and post race water, sports drink, and munchies.

After the Shamrock Half, I did the Monument Ave 10K a few weeks later. My wife also ran the race this year as well as her brother Dave and son Chad. Chad was a high school cross country athlete and would be the fastest in our group. I bettered my time this year. In 2007, I ran the race in 46:05 which was an improvement from last year. Chad and I started in different waves but had we run in the same wave, I would have seen him cross the finish line. He beat me by 15 seconds. It was fun to race with family.

After the Monument Ave 10K, I did not do any races for a while. I went through the summer of 2007 playing summer soccer and in June of that summer, my wife and I did a120 mile backpacking trip on the Appalachian trail. Mario dropped us off one Saturday morning on the north side of the Shenandoah National Park here in Virginia. We backpacked and tented out for the next 7 nights. On the 8th day, we pulled in to Rockfish Gap at noon where Mario picked us up for the drive back to Richmond.

The backpacking trip was amazing. It was a challenge and something that neither my wife nor I had done before. We had done some preparation but no more than a long weekend in the woods before this trip. We saw bears every day, lots of deer, and tons of rabbits on this one part of the trail. My wife had terrible blisters on her feet but still kept chugging along every day. Her feet were a mess but she did not complain. She just kept going. I admire her for her fortitude. The trip was her idea and I am glad she suggested it. She had been inspired by a movie we saw at the Banff Mountain Film Festival. I could probably devote several blog entries to our trip but I am not going to go into detail about the trip right now.

After the backpacking trip, my wife and I went to the beach to visit with her family. At the beach I went for a run. I was going to make it a short run but ended up with about a 6 mile run. I was surprised how good I felt on this run. This run was the run that made me decide to sign up for a full marathon. When I got back to Richmond, I signed up for the Richmond Marathon which was in the fall.

I downloaded a training plan from the Internet which mostly entailed lots of running. I got up at 5AM every morning to put in my mileage before work each day. The summers in Richmond can be very hot and humid so knocking out the runs in the morning was the best way to beat the heat. Plus I was still in the midst of summer soccer which entailed 2 games a week after work. I was still running relatively low mileage during the week so playing some summer soccer on top of the weekly runs was not too big a deal.

About half way through my training for the Richmond Marathon, I did the Rock N Roll Half Marathon in Virginia Beach. The Rock N Roll events are very well organized. I stayed with my wife's parents down in VA Beach. Unfortunately, the neighbors across the street had a loud party the night before and I only ended up with about 3 hours of sleep and this affected my performance. I still did fairly well but my legs were so very sore throughout the whole race. I ended up with a time of 1:54:49 which was several minutes slower than my first half earlier that year.

It took me a couple of days to recover but then I got back to my training schedule. I was putting in some serious mileage. I had Saturday long runs of 17, 18, and 20 miles. I had run more this year than ever before I think. Looking back, I probably should have included more strength training, hill and speed work. But I was a novice and I was building up some serious endurance.

I completed one more half marathon before the Richmond full Marathon. I ran the Maymont Half Marathon. Part of this course runs on some gravel roads and a little bit of trails. Race day was cool and I was determined to just take it easy and use the race as a training run. I finished in 1:53:18. Interestingly enough, I felt super great after this race. Even though I ran it slightly faster than the Rock N Roll, I was not hurting at all. The temperature was much lower and I had a good night sleep the night before.

In November of 2007 I ran my first full Marathon. It was a slightly drizzly day and not too hot which made for good running. I probably started out too fast. Most first timers make this mistake. The crowds and the bands really motivated me and made me push the pace. I still felt pretty good going across the Lee Bridge which is about mile 16 of the 26.2 mile race. But then around mile 18 or 19, I hit the proverbial wall. My legs were shouting at me to stop. I started to do some walking and stretching. I would walk for minute and then run for a few minutes. I kept this up until near the end where I summoned all my strength and ran that last mile. My face must have told the story of how I was feeling because when my wife saw me, I could see in her face that she could tell that I was hurting. I ended up with a time of 4:04:00. I had wanted to beat 4 hours and was so close. So close yet so far.

In my next installment I will describe what I felt like after the race and how I recovered.

My favorite way to bring in the new year

In 2006 I had done my first ever 10k and my first ever Triathlon which was a difficult race. In the Fall of 2006, I continued to play soccer and ride my bike. As 2006 ended I had not committed to any races in 2007. I knew I would probably do the Monument Avenue 10K again because it was not only fun to race but also training with my church group was fun. Beyond that, I did not really plan any races.

First I had to plan my New Years Day epic adventure. I had started a tradition the previous year of doing a very long bike ride with as many friends as possible. The previous year was just my friend Chris and I. We rode our mountain bikes from my house all the way out to Ashland to Poor Farm Park where there are some good mountain bike trails.

This time around, I had invited a bunch of friends to do the same ride- ride from our friends house out to Poor Farm, ride the trails, and then ride back. I had about 6 people lined up to do the ride. I awoke to the alarm at 6:00 AM on New Years Day. It was pouring rain. I was not sure if we would still be doing the ride or not. I decided that I better plan as if we were so I could be prepared. I ate my bananas and granola and drank my Red Bull. I put on on my riding gear and was pretty much ready to go when the phone rang. It was the first person dropping out. Soon after that call, the phone rang again and another person had dropped out. I called Mario and he was also out. But apparently Bill was up for it. He was on his way to Mario's. So I headed out in the pouring rain to ride over to Mario's house where we would meet and then head out to Poor Farm.

To summarize the ride, it was a great ride. It poured rain the whole time though. Not just drizzle but pouring rain. Bill and I rode hard on the road as if we were in a road race. We had to keep pushing it so we would stay warm. Parts of the road were under water which really slowed us down. When we got to the park, some of the trails were totally under water. We rode for about 45 minutes on the trails before stopping for a quick snack and then making our way back home.

The ride home was tough. Bill lead most of the way. I stayed on his tail so I could draft. The water was spraying off his tire into my face but I did not care. I wanted to stay close to him so the draft from his bike would help me along. There is one word to describe my friend Bill and his biking ability. Bill is a BEAST. He was nice enough to slow down when I fell off the back. We rode back to Mario's, went inside real quick to say hello and then made our way back home. It was a 45 mile ride in the pouring rain. I will never forget it. It was perfectly epic. A great way to start the new year.

Bitten by the bug

Let me apologize up front that this installment is quite long. I am very interested in getting everyone up to date on my story.

After the summer of 2005 I hung up my soccer cleats for the Fall season. My wife and I had planned a fall trip to the Grand Canyon and some other national parks and I wanted to make sure that I did not get injured so I could enjoy the trip. In the fall of 2005 we took our two week vacation with my parents and brother John. We did some great hikes including backpacking down in to the Grand Canyon to Indian Gardens and Plateau Point. After our 2005 trip, we knew that we would have to go back again and do more backpacking in the Grand Canyon. It was a great trip and I could devote several entries to the trip but I feel like I need to move my story along so I can get you all up to date.

In January of 2006, I read about a fellowship opportunity in our church bulletin that sounded like a lot of healthy fun. Each year my church does a 10K training program for the Monument Avenue 10K. Thousands of people participate in the race and there are lots of local training groups that meet to train for the race. After the service I signed up for the training program. After I signed up, I learned that we would be meeting on Saturdays at 7:30AM. That seemed a little early for me but I had signed up so I had to go with it.

I had never run a race of any distance and did not really know what kind of training was required for a 10K. But that did not matter because our church training group had several great coaches. Most of the coaches were marathoners with multiple marathons under their belt including one of the pastors and the church organist. Plus, I was playing soccer on two teams again in the spring season so my 10K training would be complimented by two soccer games each week.

I thought I would have trouble getting motivated that early in the morning on a Saturday but when my alarm when off on that first Saturday at 6:45 AM, I found it pretty easy to get up. I was doing something very new and was excited. We all met at the church and signed up for either the novice, intermediate, or advanced group. I signed up for intermediate. Once we completed our meet and greet and morning devotions, we hit the pavement following the routes that had been planned by Pastor Mark. I ran at the front of the Intermediate group. The route for the Intermediate group was shared with the Advanced group up to a point. When we go to the point where the intermediates were turning around to head back to the church, I decided to keep going with the advanced group.

As it turns out, long distance runners run their long Saturday runs at a pace that is significantly slower than race pace. These long slow distances help to build endurance. All my years of soccer and biking had trained my body pretty well and I could easily run long slow distances. I had no idea that I could do it although it really should not have surprised me. I continued to run with the advanced group every Saturday and I did my weekly runs as prescribed by Pastor Mark.

Joining a training team was great motivator for me. Not only did I have people to run with on Saturday but I felt motivated to put in the mileage so I could hang with these guys each Saturday. The advanced team were all marathoners. Some of them would get up super early on Saturdays and put in many miles before we met to do the 10K training. I looked up to them because they were regular guys with regular full time jobs and families yet they were very fit and seemed to be able to run forever.

Our training continued from the end of January to the end of March. My goal was to beat 1 hour in what would be my first ever 10K. As we approached race day, I realized that I would be able to beat 1 hour with no difficulty at all. I ran the race in 49:07 which translates to just about an 8 minute mile. Running across the finish line with all the people cheering and the bands playing felt great. The months of training in the cold paid off. I had a big kick at the end and felt great after the race.

Melissa met me at the finish to congratulate me. I felt a certain euphoria. It was not the so called "runners high." I had just run 6.2 miles and I think one has to run a great deal more to achieve the "runners high." The euphoria came from a sense of accomplishment. There is something very rewarding in having a very well defined goal, knowing and taking all the steps necessary to achieve that goal, and then reaching the goal. I also love to shovel snow. With snow shoveling, the goal is very well defined and it is easy to tell when the goal has been achieved. Plus it is great exercise.

After this race, it was safe to say I had been bitten by the racing bug. I decided to sign up for another race. This time I was a bit more ambitious. I signed up for the Xterra Sport race which is an off road triathlon that comes to Richmond every summer. In previous years I had watched friends compete in this difficult race and thought I would go ahead and give it a try.

I really had no training program for this race. I had a good running base and I had been biking as much as possible on the course that they used for Xterra. My weakest area was swimming. I know how to swim but I am no Michael Phelps that is for sure. I managed to get a few training swims in and also participated in a clinic down at the river that was course specific. The guy teaching the clinic showed us how to navigate the currents and gave us some very useful tips that would give us a little home field advantage.

The Xterra was both difficult and a blast. It was my first ever triathlon. I arrived early and got my bike setup in the transition zone along with my running gear. These types of races always start with the swim, mostly for safety and logistics. Imagine running and biking many miles and then jumping into a river with fast moving current. Somehow I think that would be a recipe for disaster. The swim part of this race is hard because not only do you have to go cross current several times and do some swimming upstream against the current, there are rocks and other debris to watch out for. There are even some places where you can stand up for a few paces depending on the level of the river.

The gun went off and off we all went in the water. It was almost comical. I swam for as long as I could before I had to tread water and do the doggie paddle while I caught my breath. I felt like I was losing serious ground. I knew I could not win this race by any means but I did not want to be last. We did a wave start based on sex and age group with a 2 minute gap between groups. The women were the last ones to leave the shore. As I did my doggie paddle, the women would catch up to me and pass. I kept trudging along with the mantra, "just keep moving." I did catch a second wind and was able to swim more but I ended up with lots of starts and stops. I made it out of the water to the cheers of Melissa who is my biggest fan and is always there to support me. I ran back to the transition zone, got on the bike and headed for the technical and difficult mountain bike course. I was quite familiar with the course and finished pretty strong. Back at the transition zone, I pounded some sports drink, changed my shoes and headed out for the final leg of the race which was a 5k. I used the same mantra, "just keep moving."

My intent is not to give you a play by play of every race but this race was so difficult and at the same time exhilarating so I thought I would share some of the details. Part of the 5K course goes up what locals call the "Mayan Ruins." The "Mayan Ruins" is actually just about 20 very large steps that go up an embankment. Each step is about 1 to 2 feel high. Most people use their hands to climb up these steps. I did well on this part. I was able to leap up each step and pass several people along the way. The run then continues along the flood wall and eventually makes it way back to Brown's Island.

For my first Tri, I did pretty good. I finished in 1:55. Again I felt a great euphoria when I finished. It was so fun. The course was excellent and I was competing against some great athletes. Granted the pro who won the full distance race did his race in just under 2 hours also. I stuck around to watch him finish. He did twice the distance I did in the same time it took me to do my distance. What a beast.

At this point in my athletic career, I had discovered that racing was a lot of fun. Not quite as fun as soccer but it was different. I looked forward to running and biking knowing that the goal was to do well in races. By the end of 2006, I had done two races. In 2007 I would end up doing even more.

Hardly Working

After I got out of the hospital, I took another week or so off before going back to work. When I got back to the office, I found lots of work waiting for me. I stayed very busy at work during the day but did not really do much in the way of exercise before or after work. I was getting pretty antsy and was ready to do something again. Other than work and eat and sleep that is.

One day my coworker and his brother needed some help down their way. They needed someone with a truck to help them do a leaf and debris cleanup at the neighbor's house across the street from their house. So I drove down to help them out. I have always been good at this type of work and I guess I had a lot of pent up energy because I worked very hard and we got a lot of work done that morning. I felt pretty good. So good in fact that I decided I would go home, get my gear and head out to the soccer field to see if I could get some minutes in the Galaxy game.

I went home, grabbed my stuff and went to the field. I watched most of the first half and then decided I was up for going in to play. As it turns out, despite all the time off and the collapsed lung, I still was in pretty good shape. I had asked to play on the side or up front but they put me in the middle. And I actually held my own. I think I ran more than most of the guys on the team and of course I still had the skill and technique to play well. To be honest it was sort of shameful for the team that I had such an impact on the game. It was fun though.

At this point in my life, I was still not serious about my fitness. I was in good shape but mostly it was because I just did a lot. I biked a lot and I played soccer a lot. I was in shape by default. I did not work to be fit. I certainly did not have the best diet in the world and I did not focus on any fitness goals.

I continued playing soccer the next couple of seasons with Galaxy on Sundays. In addition to playing with Galaxy on Sundays, I started playing with Galaxy Coed during the week. Coed Soccer is really just as competitive as mens soccer but you do have a little more time on the ball which made it even more fun for me. This little bit of extra time on the ball allowed me to contribute even more. It was great fun. Games on Sunday and games on Tuesday nights. I was getting in shape without trying.

Also around this time, I started a new sport. Running. I do a lot of running during soccer games but I had never run long distances. Every year my church does a 10K training team for the Monument Avenue 10K. A 10K is 6.2 miles. Each Saturday morning, we would meet at the church at 7:3o for our group run. During the week, I would run the mileage that our coaches had prescribed for us. Plus I played in the two soccer games every week. I also threw in some mountain bike rides just for some added exercise. Again, I was not really thinking about my fitness or trying to reach any fitness goals. I was just doing it. I had turned into a calorie burning machine.

In my next installment, I will describe how I slowly transitioned from a longtime soccer player to an endurance athlete and my triumphs and tribulations along the way.

Lucky me

My knee had fully recovered and I was ready to play Fall soccer. I was pretty excited. I was feeling good and felt in pretty good shape. I would not say I was in the best shape in my life but I was one of the most fit guys on the team. Probably in the top 5.

So the game started as normal. I was pressuring the defense and the opposing defender was clearing the ball when I stuck out my foot and blocked the ball. After I blocked the ball, the defender had a little bit of extra curricular follow through and kicked me in the chest and down I went, again. It was quite a painful blow to my chest. I would say the pain was a 7 or 8. I was near the sideline so I rolled myself off the field so the game could continue. I sat on the sideline for a while holding my chest. Melissa was at the game and after sitting with me for a few minutes we decided I better go to the doctor. So where did we go. Patients First of course.

Melissa drove me to Patients First where the doctor ordered an X-Ray. Then things started happening that were different than I had experienced before. The attitude and demeanor of nurses and doctors changed. They called me an ambulance.

I was still not totally aware of why I needed an ambulance but I would learn in the back of that ambulance. The EMT in the back of the ambulance asked me what hospital I wanted to go to. I mentioned the nearest hospital I knew about but they decided that was not good enough. So they took me to MCV which has an advanced trauma center. While we barreled down I95 the EMT put an IV into my arm an started a drip of something. And then she said, "Do you know what is going on here?" I guess I shook my head or said "not really" because then she told me. She said, "Well, you have a hole in your lung and air is escaping into your chest cavity. As the air enters in the chest cavity, it will push on your organs including your heart and eventually you will die."

Well that sounded just peachy. I was still in a great deal of pain but I did not feel like I was going to die. She also said, "I might have to stick a hole in your chest." Great, I was feeling better already. NOT!

I arrived at the emergency room and was wheeled past all the poor souls who had walked into the emergency room and who were waiting to be seen by a doctor. I was going straight to the back. I did not pass go and I did not collect $200. Once I got to the back they took all my vitals and hooked me up to an oxygen monitor which is a little sensor they attach to your thumb. The "doctors" examined me and ordered another chest X-Ray. They asked me all sort of questions and I dutifully answered them. Then I sat for a while with nothing happening. I was told a specialist was being called in. Then another "doctor" came in and examined me and asked more questions and then I sat some more.

I have to explain why I put quotes around the word doctor. MCV is a teaching hospital. So while they call everyone doctor, many of these doctors are actually still somewhere in the learning process. Reminds me of a joke. What do you call a medical student who graduates last in his class? Doctor.

So I guess everyone was getting a chance to learn. Plus I think the doctors were confused. They said I had a collapsed lung but I did not have any broken ribs. Plus I was in great shape so my oxygen sensor was showing a high percentage. One lung was enough for sitting on a gurny I guess. This went on for a while. More doctors, more sitting around.

Finally after about 8 hours of sitting there in pain, the doctors suddenly decided I needed to have a chest tube put in immediately. So with no anesthetic they made the incision, jammed in the rib spreaders, and inserted the chest tube. Now this really hurt. I now knew for sure what a pain level of 10 feels like. And I remember the conversation the doctors were having while sewing the tube into me. The one guy was coaching the other guy. "No, you have to loop it up higher. There you go." I half expected them to be looking at the manual as they did the procedure.

After this fun little procedure I was admitted. Have you ever seen those signs around hospitals that read, "Quiet. Hospital Zone." Why bother. They are so noisy on the inside. The worst are the night nurses. While everyone else is trying to sleep which is often difficult because of the uncomfortable conditions (i.e. chest tube sticking out of your body hooked up to suction), the nurses are just carrying on like they are at an outdoor summer picnic.

During the night, when I finally did fall asleep, I would be woken up by a nurse to give me a shot in my stomach. The shots were to prevent blood clots since I was just lying around doing nothing which increasea the chance of clotting. I will never forget these shots. The nurses were instructed to give me the shots in the fatty part of my stomach. Well guess what? I weighed about 140 and did not really have any belly fat. And they always had to say something like "Not much here to work with here" or something light and witty. It got old pretty fast. And they would always say something like, "Ok this won't hurt. It will feel just like a little bee sting." Ok so a bee sting is not the most painful thing in the world but why don't they just say, "this is going to sting a little." I don't like bee stings. Why would they think I would not mind a bee sting?

This all went on for 11 days. Eleven days at MCV for a kick in the chest during an adult amateur soccer game. Who would have guessed. This was a freak accident of course but does show you that soccer can be dangerous. But fun.

After about day 9 in the hospital, I finally started healing up. The treatment for a collapsed lung is to vent the air that escapes from the lung into the chest cavity with a chest tube and suction. The lungs then heal on their own. My lungs were not healing because I had a terrible cold going into the whole ordeal with an accompanying deep cough. The doctors would tell me to cough to see if there was any air in the tube coming out of my chest. Of course with my heavy cough, there was always air in the tube. Finally one day, the actual head trauma doctor (the HIIC-Head Indian In Charge) came in and said, "no more coughing." After that day I started healing.

On my 10th day, the night before I was to get out, Hurricane Isabel struck the Richmond area. Melissa was at the hospital that night and left to go home a little on the late side. She barely made it home in the storm. And when she got home the power was already out. On my discharge day, I went home to no power and a very messy yard. Everyone in the neighborhood was outside cleaning up and accessing damage. I shuffled into the house and left the yard to nature.

After one night in the house with no power, I was just not in the mood. I called my parents in NOVA to see if they had power. They did. Melissa and I drove up there for a few days while I recovered. Having no power is very inconvenient but it was especially not convenient for me since I was so weak and really needed some creature comforts at that point.

We did come back to Richmond after a couple of days. Our power was out for a total of 13 days. It was really a drag at the time. Years later I would go to New Orleans for a Katrina relief trip. I thought I had it bad but compared to those folks, I had it made in the shade.

Before I finish this installment I have to explain the title of this blog. You might not consider me to be lucky. After all, I had just recovered from a knee injury when I got the blow to the chest. But as always, I had Melissa by my side. Melissa always took care of me in my time of need. She came to the hospital every day, spent lots of time with me there, cleaned up the room, brought me food, brought me her walkman and batteries. Even today, she continues to help me through difficult times. Melissa has always made the tough times bearable and the fun times even more fun. I can't imagine life without her. We have built a great marriage based on mutual trust, respect and love. I want to thank her for all the support she has given me in everything I do good or bad. Melissa is my soul mate and I love her dearly.

Thumb Recovery-What is next?

After several weeks of physical therapy, my thumb healed up pretty well. I had to keep working it in order to get my full range of motion back and even today I don't have the full range of motion when compared to my other thumb. But I don't really feel impaired in any way. There is a small piece of metal in there now but it does not register at airport metal detectors and it was not an issue when I had my latest MRI.

We were in the off season so I was doing lots of biking and not playing soccer. My first ride back after thumb surgery was actually pretty difficult. I had not yet fully healed at the time and the rattling of mountain biking did cause some soreness and I did not have full breaking power. But I continued to ride anyway. The doctor had cleared me to ride and play soccer although I am not sure he knew what I meant by mountain biking. When I ride, I ride some pretty rugged trails with lots of roots, rocks, and log jumps. The trails are really the opposite of smooth. But that is what makes it so fun. It is challenging and a great workout. Maybe just a little dangerous. I have had a few wrecks with one minor injury that I described already.

So after a good season of riding, I started playing soccer again. Galaxy had entered a tournament in Charleston, South Carolina. It was a weekend tournament where we were guaranteed at least 3 games depending on how we did. Charleston is a long way to drive for a soccer tournament but the guys said it would be a blast and I had never gone to a tournament like this as an adult so I decided to go for it.

I arrived to the field early and started my long warm-up routine. I always liked to go through a thorough warm up back then. I would jog for about a mile or 2 and then stretch before taking the field to warm up with the ball. After warming up, the game started. It was during the first half of the first game when an opposing player struck the ball the same time as me. We both swung hard at the ball while facing each other, both on the run towards each other. I heard and felt a loud pop and I immediately went down to the ground. I was in serious pain. When doctors and nurses ask you to describe your level of pain, they tell you to rate it from 1 to 10. At this time in my life, I would have called the pain I felt when my knee popped as a 9 or 10.

I was carried off the field and the game continued. This is how soccer is played. If someone gets injured, they must leave the pitch immediately so the game can continue. Luckily there was a trainer at the field. He started icing me right away and gave me a bunch of pills to take. Technically what he did was probably illegal as the meds were probably prescription strength. But I was grateful to the guy for helping me out. He also put me in a pretty hefty knee brace that kept my whole leg straight and kept it from moving at all.

Also lucky for me, my wife Melissa was there to help me deal with my new injury. She helped me shuffle to the car and drove me back to the hotel. I mostly spent the rest of the weekend in the hotel. It was not very fun. I was in pain although it had greatly subsided. I was down to a 3 or 4. Our team bombed out of the tournament and I was more than ready to go home come Sunday.

When I got back to Richmond, I went to Patients First. When the doctor came in to see me, I sort of did a double take. I was getting older so it was only natural that my doctors would eventually be younger than me. However, this kid was so young. Was he older than Doogie Houser? A little bit. He gave me a quick, less than thorough exam and thought I would be fine if I just stayed off of it. I guess I can't really complain. I was an adult with no real primary care physician. I simply went to Patients First when I got sick or hurt. When I went for my thumb, an Xray showed my broken thumb and they sent me to the experts. This time around, it did not work out as well.

Back then, my insurance would not allow me to go to a specialist without a referral. Since the "doctor" at Patients First did not give me a referral, there was not much else I could do. I limped around in discomfort for quite some time. Then, I got what I consider lucky. My insurance changed and I no longer needed a referral to go see a specialist. So I went to Advanced Orthopedics and saw Dr. Higgs. He examined me and told me that my knee joint was loose and ordered an MRI.

The results of the MRI showed that I had torn my Medial Collateral Ligament in my right knee. Well no wonder it hurt so much. But the good news was that I did not need surgery. The treatment for this injury used to be surgery but recent research showed that not doing surgery was actually better. Dr Higgs gave me a knee brace and said I could play soccer. Some of my friends commented that he was basically saying, "Come back when it is expensive." So as always, I did what the doctor ordered. I wore the brace and started working out again. It was summer so there was plenty of sunshine and opportunity to ride, run, and workout with the soccer ball.

As the fall season approached, I was feeling pretty good and looked forward to the fist game of the season. Despite the knee injury, I was still in good condition. I have so much fun playing soccer. Soccer is competitive, difficult, and great exercise. Soccer players have to have speed, agility, quick thinking, and a strong heart and lungs. I had all of these things plus the skill necessary to play well and I really defined myself as a soccer player in these days. So despite the injuries, I was not going to stop playing.

Thanks for reading. Next time I will tell you about something that happened during my first game back after recovering from my knee injury.

Soccer Injuries-Part 1

People familiar with soccer know that it is a contact sport that can be hard on the body. Besides the running, jumping, quick starts and stops, there is also contusions, twists, sprains, and bruises. I had been pretty lucky throughout my soccer playing days. Sure when I was a kid, I had the two broken wrists as I described earlier. And I had my share of ankle sprains, groin pulls, and sore hamstrings. But I had never had any major injuries in the many years I played.

My first major injury happened as an adult playing in the CVSA. Our team captain was a member of the CVSA board which lead to a neat opportunity. There was a British Navy ship that was going to be docking in nearby Hampton. The men of the HMS Richmond wanted to play a soccer game against a local amateur team. Our captain, Mario, was able to get the Galaxy onto the pitch for a friendly.

The game was set for a Saturday at Bryan Park. There were more spectators than usual at this game. My dad had come into town to watch and there were various family and friends from both teams at the game. The match was really a fun one. I thought I had a pretty good game with an assist and a goal.

During the course of the game, I had a breakaway. I was driving down into the penalty box and was leveled by an opposing player. The referee decided it was not a foul but upon video review (the game was being taped), it was definitely a foul. When I went down, I landed on my hand and hurt my thumb pretty bad. I kept playing though. Soccer players are like that. We just keep playing and deal with the injuries after the game.

We ended up winning 4-3 and afterwards we all hung out in the pavilion to socialize. I was not in a socializing mood though because my thumb was throbbing and was black and blue. I put ice on it and did not hang out much. My dad and I went home and he left to go back to NOVA. Now I know that immediate black and blue from an injury is not a good sign.

The next day my thumb was still hurting a great deal. I decided I better go to the Patients First to get it checked out. Melissa was out of town at a conference so she was missing all the fun. At Patients First, they did an xray and said that I had broken my thumb and sent me to a specialist. So the next day I went to Advanced Orthopedics (my second time at AO). The doctor informed me that I needed surgery. He also told me that since he was going on vacation later in the week that he would need to fit me in the next morning.

So I had injured myself on Saturday, went to one doctor on Sunday, the specialist on Monday, and was being operated on Tuesday. The surgery was relatively minor but any surgery takes its toll on the body. I had what was called a "game keepers repair." I had a co-worker drive me to surgery and pick me up when it was done. I was sent home with pain medicine and a soft cast.

It was challenging doing things with one hand especially since I had hurt my dominant hand. I went back to Advanced Orthopedic for physical therapy. The therapy went well and I regained almost a full range of motion. Not 100 percent though. I can still bend my left thumb much more than the right one that I injured.

Next time I will describe another injury that is more typical of athletes.

From HASA to CASA to CVSA

The Hanover Amateur Soccer Association (HASA) did not last very long. It turns out that there a quite a few adult amateur soccer players that don't pay their dues. The guy who organized and ran the league could not afford to run the league with all the delinquent accounts. This issue is still an problem today. You would think adults would be more responsible but for some reason, some are not.

After HASA folded, I hooked up with some of the HASA guys in CASA. CASA is the Chesterfield Amateur Soccer Association. CASA was a much bigger league with many more teams and several divisions. Again, our games were on Sunday. CASA was a bit more competitive than HASA and demanded more skill and more fitness. Of course, the tougher the competition, the harder I would play. During the CASA years I really started getting in shape. Our team even had a few practices during the week.

Mostly I would use the games to get in shape but I also had a special way of getting in shape during practices. I would play hard all the time. During practices I would spend nearly as much energy as in a game. Not quite but pretty close. One technique I use involves dead balls. When the ball would go out of bounds during a scrimmage or short sided game at practice, most people take the opportunity to catch their breath while someone chases the ball. When I was at practice, I was always the one to chase the ball. I would sprint after the ball and retrieve it back onto the field. These impromptu sprints really elevated my fitness level. It was a simple technique that I had used for many years. This technique also contributed to the overall fitness of the team. Not really a great amount, but a little. Basically there were no breaks for anyone because I would keep the ball in play.

I ended up playing in CASA for several seasons before our team folded. The guy who organized the team decided to retire from soccer and there was no one who wanted to step up and take over the team. I was luck though. One night I received an email from the guy who organized my CASA team. He had forwarded an email from one of the other CASA teams captains. This other team was looking for a player or two and this guy specifically wanted me to play for his team. I was described in the email as a "reliable" player. I took that as a decent enough compliment. And it was true. I was reliable all right. I never missed any games or practices and I was reliable on the field. You could count on me to make good passes and to always give it my all. My new team was called Galaxy.

When I joined the Galaxy we were still playing in CASA. However it was not long before we moved from CASA to the CVSA. The Central Virginia Soccer Association was very big and also very well organized. The CVSA fields were also closer to where I lived and we got to play many games at Bryan Park. Bryan Park is an adult amateur soccer player's dream soccer park. There are 5 very nice grass fields within a big park with lots of acreage. The fields themselves were inspiring.

Playing for Galaxy changed things. These guys were a little more serious about staying in shape and practicing. I liked that of course. We practiced and played hard and I got to know some of the guys better than any of the other guys I had played with in Richmond. As it turned out, several of the guys were also into mountain biking so that was a big plus.

My life as an adult amateur athlete really started to pick up. The soccer was more competitive, we practiced more, and there was general attitude on the team that fitness was important. In addition to playing harder soccer, I began to ride harder too. Some of the guys on the team introduced me to the trails in downtown Richmond. The trails in downtown are actually quite challenging. The James River goes right through the heart of downtown and the park system trails are quite excellent. These trails are featured during Xterra, the National Duathlon Championship as well as other local races. Have a new place to ride and other guys to ride with was a big plus in my book.

At this time in my life, I was exercising a great deal. I burned a lot of calories especially on the weekends. I was in pretty great shape. I always had energy, I slept well, and I felt pretty good most of the time.

Thanks again for staying with me. This edition was pretty soccer heavy. In my next edition, I plan to talk about some of the soccer injuries I have endured throughout the years.

Migration to the South

After working for about a year at AAAS, Melissa was finding that her job was less than fulfilling. Melissa was not really satisfied with the work she was doing and wanted to do something that tapped into her creativity.

I did not realize it at the time but it turns out Melissa was not only smart but also quite artistic. One day she decided to try her hand at oil painting. She painted a nice little scene with some trees, water, and a boat. I think I liked it even more than she did. I insisted that we hang it somewhere. There was already a nail in the bathroom wall that was actually just right for hanging the painting. I was proud of this painting and I felt a certain pride in being married to someone with such well rounded talents. Melissa was organized, smart, thoughtful AND artistic. Most other artistic people I have met are lacking in some of the other disciplines that life demands.

So when Melissa said that she wanted to go back to school to get an art degree, I was all for it. At the time I was still working at the bookstore but also trying to finish up my graduate degree in psychology at the American University. I had finished all of my classwork and was working on comprehensive exams and trying to get my research published. There was no reason why I could not finish up these things elsewhere while Melissa went back to school.

It turns out that the Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, Virginia has a good art program. Melissa applied and was accepted. So we picked up our stakes and moved to Richmond. After finding a town house to rent, we enlisted the help of my brothers to help us haul all of our stuff down I95 to Richmond.

Shortly after we moved to Richmond, I answered an interesting ad in the paper for a job with Circuit City. The job posting went something like this, "Do you like to play video games?" There was actually more to it but this is the part I remember. I actually did not really play video games but this drew my attention and I applied for the job. And I got it. I started working for Circuit City doing telephone technical support for all of Circuit City's computers and computer peripherals. It turned out to be a turning point in my career. Fifteen years later I am still working in the computer field.

While I worked for Circuit City, Melissa worked hard in art school. She was probably the most diligent student in art school. VCU art students are not known to be super studious. Melissa threw herself into the work and did some very nice projects. Also I managed to finish up my Masters in Psychology and get a paper published in the Journal of Psychology.

Now back to the main subject of athletics and working out. When I worked at Circuit City I did not play soccer. GASP! Can you believe it? This would be the first time that I did not play soccer as an adult. I did continue to mountain bike. A local bike shop owner told me of a park not too far away that had nice mountain bike trails. The park is called Poor Farm Park and I still bike there today. So while Melissa worked hard in art school, I worked at Circuit City and did as much biking as I could. Poor Farm was the only place I knew in the area that had trails so that is where I always went to ride.

As I met people through work, I found a few people to drag out to Poor Farm with me. My friend Larry and I started getting in the groove. We would go out to Poor Farm several times a week. Then my friend Chris started also going along. Sometimes we would have a group of 5 or 6 people riding the trails. I was still in pretty good shape but looking back at this time I realized that I was not really pushing myself and I was not really paying attention to my diet nor did I really have an exercise plan. I was having fun but I would not really call myself an athlete at this time of my life.

After working for 2 years at Circuit City, I got what I call a break. I was hired by a computer consulting company and started doing desktop support for the Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries. DGIF is a self funded state agency that overseas all this wild in VA. From frogs to fish, quail to bear, DGIF had their hands in all kind of wildlife management. This made it an interesting place to work with interesting people to work with.

While working for DGIF, I continued to mountain bike at Poor Farm. But not long after making the move to DGIF, I started playing soccer again. It turns out that one of the DGIF human resources specialists was a soccer Mom whose husband coached youth soccer and also ran an adult amateur league in nearby Hanover County. She got me hooked up with her husband's team and viola I was playing soccer again.

HASA (Hanover Amateur Soccer Association) was a small league. There was 1 division of about 10 teams. We played our games on Sundays. It felt good to be playing competitive soccer again. For me, playing soccer was like riding a bike. It did not take long before I was back in the groove. I play center midfield so I run a lot. After half a season of playing center mid and also biking during the week, I was starting to get in more serious shape. Would I consider myself at athlete at this time? Well maybe. Compared to where I was going in the future-no but compared to where I had been, yes. Soccer always motivated me to get in better and better shape. The better shape you are in, the more you can play and the better you can play. And that means more fun.

I did have a major mountain bike crash around this time. I smashed my knee pretty good and broke my handle bars. The breaking of the handle bars is important because it showed how hard I went down. My knee swelled up pretty big and I limped along for a while. This happened in the off season so I was not playing soccer at the time. I finally went to Advanced Orthopedics which was nearby my house. This would be my first trip to Advanced Orthopedics but not my last. Dr Zaslov saw me and gave me some exercises to do. At first I was not diligent about doing the exercises until the Dr gave me a tongue lashing. Normally I don't respond well to this kind of thing but it was enough to get me motivated. I started really pushing myself through the exercises and before you know it my knee had healed up nicely. I was back to playing soccer and riding my bike - with new handle bars of course.

I was slowly beginning to define myself as an athlete although I was not totally sold on it. It felt good to exercise hard and be in good physical condition but I did not really have a training plan or any goals at this point.

Thanks again for reading. Next time, from HASA to CASA to the CVSA.

Married Life

Melissa and I got married December 18th, 1993. We had a nice wedding in a Lutheran Church in Farifax, VA. We had a daytime wedding followed by a drive to BWI airport. Joan and Allen drove us to the airport which was a very nice favor. We flew to sunny Jamaica for a week of sun and fun. We spent our first Christmas as a married couple on the beach relaxing. Rather than talk too much about our trip, I want to move on to describe married life.

We lucked out and found a very roomy 1 bedroom apartment in Arlington, VA. We were a few blocks from the Metro so Melissa had an easy commute to downtown Washington DC. And while we were a few blocks from where I was working at B. Dalton Booksellers, I had recently gotten promoted to assistant manager at the small Tysons II store so I ended up having to drive to work each day.

I will never forget that first Monday as a married couple living together. It was early in the morning and I was doing what I liked to do best at this time-sleep. Suddenly there was a loud and annoying noise coming from the bathroom. At first I could not imagine what the noise was or who was making that racket. Slowly I came to my senses and realized that it was my new bride drying her hair with the hair dryer. Once I realized what the noise was and who was making it, I simply smiled and rolled over. It did not bother me anymore. After the initial shock, I did not mind the morning hair drying. It reminded me how lucky I was to find someone with which to share my life. And 15 years later, my wife occasionally gets up before me and drys her hair. But she is so nice to go in the other room and do it. I never asked. She is just considerate that way.

Now that were were married, we came up with new routines. The location of our apartment was actually ideal for exercising. We both had bikes and we lived very close to the 4 Mile Run bike trail which hooks up with the W&OD trail as well as the Mount Vernon trail. Melissa and I started biking pretty much daily. We would get home from work, change and then hit the trail. Sometimes we would do 6 to 10 miles, sometimes we would do even more. On weekends, we would go for longer rides. In fact there is a great ride that I recommend if you are ever biking up in this area. We rode our bikes into downtown DC by way of National Airport. There is a park there where you can stop and watch the planes land at the airport. The planes come in super low. It is loud but pretty amazing. After taking in a few landings and having a banana or two, we would make the long trek home. The trek home was a bit more difficult because it was pretty much up hill the whole way. But after we got back to the apartment, we always felt great. Not only were we exercising but we were spending quality time together.

One day we decided to sign up for the MS 50. I had done the MS-150 with my brother and his wife. The 150 is two days of biking-75 miles each day. It was great fun although my butt might beg to differ. The MS 50 is a 1 day event covering 50 miles. The idea is to raise money for research into combating Multiple Sclerosis. You raise some money and then ride a fully supported course with breaks every 15 miles or so. We hammered out the course pretty easily. Fifty miles really was easy for us since we had been doing so much biking.

In addition to the bike riding, I also started playing soccer with a different group of people. My older brother Erik and his friends wanted to play on a co-ed team. So I joined up. Erik and I had never really had a chance to play that much soccer together and this was a fun opportunity to play competitive yet slightly more relaxed soccer. Erik's wife Melissa (yes, another Melissa Rosen) is an accomplished soccer player. Between Erik and Melissa and their friends, we had a pretty fun team where we all knew each other socially before playing as a team.

So even after getting married, the routine was sort of the same. Soccer on weekends, biking during the week with some long bike rides with my Melissa. Life was good and I was happy. Melissa and I were getting to know each other even better. Even though we knew each other pretty well after spending so much time together, we still learned more about each other as we grew together in that first year of marriage.

Thanks again for reading. Coming up next, "the big move."

Post College

After graduating from Roanoke in 1991, I continued living in my home town of Vienna, VA. And I continued playing soccer. The soccer in NOVA (Northern Virginia) is quite competitive even for adult amateurs. At first I hooked up with some guys that used to play high school soccer with my older brothers. That was quite fun. I was in great shape so I was able to hang pretty well with them.

During college, I did not just study, bike, skateboard, and otherwise exercise. Another thing I did was meet Melissa. Melissa is from a suburb of Philadelphia. We hit it off and became close during school. After school, we continued to "date." I put quotes around the word date here because I have to explain that our dates were not really what most would call a traditional date. Most of the time, Melissa would drive down on Friday night and spend the night in the guest room at my parents house. Then on Saturday, I would go play soccer and she would watch. What a gal! Right?After the soccer game we would go to Great Falls National Park and go for long walks. We got to know each other even better on these walks. It was a healthy way to spend time together and it was cheap too.

Then one day, Melissa moved from her Philly suburb to Fairfax, VA and took a job working for AAAS. Melissa rented a room in a townhouse in Fairfax. Each day she would drive from her house in Fairfax to a neighborhood near the Dunloring Metro where she would take the train downtown to her job. In fact, the metro stop was right next to my elementary school. Then after work she would come over to my parent's house and we would all have dinner together. Melissa was quickly becoming part of the family.

While Melissa was working at AAAS, I was working at B. Dalton Bookseller in Arlington, VA. Working at the book store was fun. The people were all very nice and I was good at smiling at the customers and putting books away. It was by no means a glamorous job but I enjoyed it.

One real nice thing about the job was my commute. I commuted by bicycle on the wonderful W&OD bike trail. It was very convenient. My parents lived right on the trail and my job location was a few blocks from the trail. So each morning I would suit up and get a great workout on the way to work. It was about 9 miles door to door and I crunched out the ride both to and from work. I pretty much pushed myself and tried to better my time each day. Sometimes after work, I would ride into downtown DC so I could get some extra mileage in. I got in pretty good shape this way. Biking every day and soccer on weekends. This combination continued to work for me throughout my adult work although as you will learn, in a different town, and with a different type of biking.

So the routine continued - biking during the week, soccer on Sundays, dinner with Melissa and my family during the week. Melissa and I continued to grow closer. On a Thanksgiving trip up to visit with Melissa's family, we went shopping on Black Friday. We looked a rings in various stores at the mall. I needed to learn what type of ring style Melissa favored and I wanted to learn her size. It was not long after that trip that I made a trip to a local jeweler to buy her a diamond ring. I did not make that much money working at the bookstore but I had some help from my younger brother John. John was nice enough to write a check for the ring. We set up a payment plan so I could pay him back. This generous loan allowed me to get Melissa a very fan nice ring.

The ring was burning a whole in my pocket. I probably should have planned a romantic evening out or a walk to a stunning vista but I didn't. One night while hanging out in my room, I told her that I had something for her. I produced the ring and asked her to marry me. I was hoping for a good reaction and that is what I got but I was surprised by the happy tears that came streaming down Melissa's face. I got the biggest smile on my face and in my heart. Melissa and I were going to spend the rest of our lives together as a married couple. Hurray!

Thanks again for reading. These installments sometimes go long so I appreciate you hanging in there with me. Next time-bike rides, bike ride, bike rides coming at you.

The College Years

Before I continue with my story, I have to mention a request I had after a family member starting reading my blog. The font was too small. So I have attempted to make this one easier to read. Easier on the eyes that is. I can't promise the writing will be superb.

After high school, I went to Roanoke College is Salem, VA. Roanoke is a small liberal arts college and they do have a soccer team. I was not sure I wanted to try out for college soccer. I went to one meeting that pretty much turned me off from the idea of trying out and playing college soccer. At the meeting the coach was talking about how much time we would miss from classes and how we would have to reschedule exams. I did not like the sound of that. Also the coach seemed to know everyone at the meeting except for me. So I decided to not even try out. I think I was good enough to make the team but I guess I will never know.

During college we were required to take a physical education class. I took physical conditioning which consisted of weight lifting and running mostly. I was not totally into it but I was able to maintain my conditioning that I had built up over the years. I also took a racquet ball class. I did pretty well in racquet ball. I was quick and had good reflexes which served me well. I also was not scared to dive, bump into the wall, or otherwise sacrifice my body for the points.

During my Junior year, I took up a new sport. Mountain biking. I have to thank my friend David Hess who turned me onto this wonderful sport. I got a mountain bike as an early graduation present from my parents. Just about every day I would come home from class, change, and head out the door on my bike. We would ride a while on the road until we got to Red Lane. We called it Red Lane because the trail started off a road called- you guessed it- Red Lane.

Mountain biking was fun. I had never been a strong bicyclist but I did have a good set of lungs and my legs were fairly strong due to my many years of soccer. More of my friends started getting bikes and riding too. So now we had a group of people riding each day. We pushed each other. Not necessarily on purpose mind you but no one wanted to be the wimpy rider. Dave guided us up the trails. Each day we went a little further up the side of the mountain and then, when we had gone as far as we could go, we would turn around and descend. It was a fast and furious descent for us beginners. Dave would disappear down the mountain in front of us while the rest of us figured out how to go over obstacles like big rocks, roots, and logs. To this day, Dave is an accomplished downhiller so we never really learned how to go really fast when compared to him but we did progress. Each day we went, we would go further up and faster down.

Also in my Junior year I played Intramural Indoor Soccer. Dave also played soccer growing up. So Dave, myself and a bunch of others put together a team. We did pretty well despite me playing with a broken arm. Broken arm? Did I cover that? Not yet. I will cover that in a moment.

Indoor soccer gave me the chance to really get my heart rate up. It seems that I was happiest when I was going all out. When I exercised hard whether it was indoor soccer or mountain biking, I always went all out. During these moments of intense exercise, I found a clarity of mind that I never really felt before. I did not think about what I was doing. I just did it. The duality of my life seemed to disappear. It is difficult to explain in words and many have described this state of awareness way better than I ever could so I won't dwell on it now.

So before I go to much further, I should tell the story of my broken wrist. But first, I will tell you of my first two broken wrists. When I was a kid, I had broken my wrist twice. When my oldest brother Tom was 16, I was playing goal keeper while he took shots on me. He always had lots of power in everything that he did (he walked on his hands in the halloween parade and also could walk up and down the stairs on his hands-lots of stairs). Well Tom took a powerful shot and I tried to block it. I broke my wrist in the process. I am pretty sure that was the most pain I had felt as a kid although I did electrocute myself when I was 3. That pain was quick and went away after I shot across the room. But I digress. This pain lingered.

I remember coming into the house crying and in great pain. I was 10 so my parents probably thought I would eventually stop crying and get over it. They were sitting around the dining room table with some dinner guests. I remember that Mr Redfoot was there. Finally they decided that maybe I did need some medical attention. It must be hard to know when your kids are REALLY hurt.

My dad took me to Children's hospital in downtown Washington DC. We had a track record with the doctors there which is something I will talk about later. I spent many hours in the emergency room. Finally I got a cast and was sent home. After my wrist healed up, I had the stinky cast removed and I was good to go, until 2 years later.

This time, my brother Erik was 16 and I guess it was his turn. Erik was taking shots and I was the goal keeper. I was 12. Erik has always been a very skilled soccer player. His power comes from superb technique. Erik took a hard shot and I tried to block it and I broke my wrist one more time. Another cast, another recovery.

Now I want to flash forward back to Roanoke College. Another sport I took up while in college was skateboarding. Again I can thank Dave Hess for getting me started on skateboarding. I did not go to fraternity parties or any of that so skateboarding gave me something else to do other than study. One day while riding down a steep hill, I took a major digger. I landed on my hand and took a nice chunk of flesh out of my palm and AGAIN broke my wrist. The local Salem doctors put a cast on but it did not really heal up until I had my brother's doctor remove the crappy cast and put one on properly.

So there in a nutshell is my athletic life at college. My goal in these first few installments is to give you a little background on me and my athletic endeavors and eventually bring you up to present day. Once we get to present day, I can discuss more of my current goals, workouts, etc.

Thanks for reading. Next time, the topic will be life after college-Soccer, Great Falls, and Melissa!

Welcome to my Blog

Everyone else is doing it so why not me? While this may not be the best reason to create a blog, I have had some fun recently reading some family blogs and thought this might be a good vehicle for me to express myself and maybe even contribute to my self actualization. (See Maslow's hierarchy of needs).

Mostly I would like to write about my life as an amateur athlete. I see this blog as an opportunity to share some of my experiences with friends and family, talk about what motivates me, share training plans, and discuss my goals as they pertain to exercise and health. Of course I may stray from the main topic here and there I am sure. I am hoping that this blog will be another tool to motivate and focus my energy on the things that I find interesting and important in my life. Also my wife recently said she was going to start a blog about her new bee keeping endeavor so I had to beat her to it. So here I go.

I have been reading the blog at http://quackenblogger.blogspot.com/ and think he is doing a pretty good job. So like him, I will start off with a little background on me and my life in athletics.

When I was a young boy, I started playing soccer. Back then, in my hometown of Vienna, VA, a child could start playing organized soccer when he or she was 8. That is quite old by today's standards. I started kicking the ball around and playing backyard soccer at an earlier age but 8 is when I officially played on a team with jerseys, practices, refereed games, etc. We had soccer moms then but they did not call them that. We called them "the team mother." She was responsible for the snacks of course, as well as organizing transportation, phone trees, etc. But I digress.

I loved to run and had lots of energy to burn so soccer was a good sport for me. Soccer players run a lot during the game. I also had some amount of skill as I had two older brothers who had both been playing for a couple of years before me. When you play backyard soccer with older boys, you have to learn fast or you never really have any fun.

Also I took my Dad's advice. You see my Dad never played soccer. Soccer was not a popular sport in Iowa. They played football and wrestled. That is what my Dad did when he was young. But one day my Dad must have gotten bitten by the soccer bug. So he encouraged us to play and one thing he suggested was that I kick the soccer ball against the wall. So much like a tennis player who hits the ball against a wall, I started kicking the ball against the wall. Boom, Boom, Boom. The whole house probably shook. My mother must have done a good job of ignoring the pounding because she never once complained. Hey, at least we were outside right?

As I got older and continued to play, my brothers and I would play two-square with our feet. It was a great game that really helped contribute to our timing and control of the ball. Soon we would have all the other soccer players in the neighborhood playing 2 square in our driveway. I won't go into the details of how we played but I do plan to post a demo video here one day. Perhaps over the Christmas break, we can get an old fashion game of two square going.

Another thing my Dad did to help us play and enjoy soccer was to help make it all happen. He did a little coaching and that was not to be forgotten. But it was really his work as commissioner that really made things happen. You might be surprised at all the work that is necessary to keep a youth soccer program going. I won't bore you with the details here but needless to say, it is a lot of work. I helped him when possible. The late night chalk deliveries to the fields were always fun. I look back on those times and think how lucky I am to have a Dad that gave so much of his time to youth soccer. And those late night chalk deliveries were also great bonding moments between my dad and me.

So onward went my soccer career. I continued playing youth soccer and progressed into playing in high school. My school did not have a strong soccer program. For whatever reason, Marshall did not fare to well in the district. That is, not until Coach Carl came along and turned us around. We managed to make it all the way to the District Final during my senior year.

While playing soccer in high school, I also did about 2 seasons of wrestling. Again this was my Dad's idea and I thank him for it. I learned a lot about pushing my body to the limit. I learned about determination and I also learned that I was pretty weak and not the best wrestler. After about 2 seasons, my winter workouts changed from wrestling to a new sport- indoor soccer. Indoor is fast and furious and I had great fun playing it. Indoor kept us in shape for the Spring season and kept us from getting rusty.

Now since I really want to focus on exercise, I must detail our workouts for soccer during high school. During the season, we would start off each practice with a 5 mile run around the track. That was 20 boring laps. I made it bearable by carrying my Sony Walkman and listening to tapes as I ran. This was long before the CD player and the iPod was still 20 years off.

After our 5 mile run, we would have the standard practice. Then after practice we would run what we called "wind sprints." We would do 50 to 100 yard sprints. I can't remember how many we had to do but it was at least half a dozen. No matter how we played, we were not going to lose because we were out of shape.

Well that about wraps it up for now. Look for my next entry when I talk about the college years. Thanks for reading.