Belly Button Lint: Rick Ramsey's Weblog

It's true. I loved to chase a ball. Or somebody who had the ball. A dog, maybe. My little brother. But whenever Coach asked us to run as a way of getting in shape for a sport I, like most of my team mates, groaned.

Later in life I took up running just to stay in shape, but the only type of running I actually enjoyed was sprinting. So I trudged and trudged and trudged through my running workouts, taking solace either in the health benefits or, after I moved to Colorado, in the camaraderie with my running buddies. And once we started piling up the miles through the mountains, I had some bragging rights to keep me motivated.

But the running itself? It was the agony in pursuit of the ecstasy.

Being kinda dumb, I never wondered why, if the activity itself in all of my other sports was inherently satisfying (skiing, surfing, basketball, soccer, martial arts, bicyling, even walking), why wasn't running inherently satisfying?

It took Nicholas Romanov, Ph.D., who invented the POSE method of running, to explain why. It's because I don't know how to run.

doh!

I've been practicing the POSE method over the last few weeks, and last Tuesday I had a small breakthrough. I still need to learn a lot more and practice a lot more, but at one point in my run on Tuesday I felt it. It was the same flow that made sprinting so enjoyable. It was the actual pleasure of running. I still had two nagging injuries, one in each foot, too much weight (225lbs), and not enough conditioning (11min miles) to get the full effect of the technique, but I couldn't stop smiling. Running, the actual motion of running, had become a pleasure.

More later.

No running today.

Time to shovel the long and steep driveway.

By the way, that's not an actual picture of the neighborhood taken today, but the closest I could find.

By day I am a mild-mannered keyboard junkie. By night I am murderous Harley scum. Perhaps as a result of this dichotomy, I am sensitive to any variations of the word posseur. (picture courtesy of MovieWeb)

Therefore, when Jerry told me this new way of running is referred to as POSE, I heard POST.

In any case, I've been working on my POSEing. Assuming I'm doing it right (BIG assumption), I can already feel the benefits while running uphill. And I can almost get to where it feels natural running on the flats. Downhill is still a challenge. The biggest impediment is my "speed." I'm guessing that I'm "running" at a pace somewhere between 11-12 minutes/mile. Probably closer to 12.

In any case, I didn't run on Tuesday because I had a sore calf. When I was in my 20's, my response to a sore calf was "huh?" In my 30's it was "ouch!" In my 40's it was "I should have listened to my body." Now I rest.

Wednesday I ran 55 minutes uphill and downhill through the neighborhood. Thursday it was a short day, up the ravine and down Cheyenne Road again, about 45 minutes, 30 of it running. You probably want to see what the neighborhood looks like, huh? OK, here it is, courtesy of Flickr:

Back in Colorado. Sun. Hills. Gravel crunching under my feet. No roots, bugs, or humidity. Achilles tendon inflammation down. Time to get back into running. Ummm....weight is 230. As in Lbs. And that's holding my breath. I hate to think what I'd weigh if I exhaled. I DIE of SHAME!

I started out a little too fast in December, and wound up exhausting myself on the Falcon Loop. So I rested and started up again, slowly.

I'm currently running 4 days a week inside the Park (Perry Park). Two light days (about 30 minutes of running plus 15 minutes of walking) and two regular days (about 45-50 minutes of running plus some walking). One long day every other weekend.

Did I mention that about 10 years ago, when I used to run with "the boys" in Colorado I was disappointed because I couldn't find an official classification for my weight? 180 lbs was considered the Clydesdale class. 190 lbs was Super Clydesdale. Or maybe I made that up. In any case, there was no class for 200 lbs.

On light days I walk up the ravine and run down Cheyenne Road back to the house. I take Buster with me when I can, since I'm trying to teach him that other people get upset when he objectifies their pets as chewy snacks.

Yesterday the ravine had 5 inches of fresh snow on a combination of hardpack and bare earth. Slippery as hell. Wind was blowing like a bastard, too. The relative plane of Cheyenne Road was a relief. That road would be awesome on cross country skis. Maybe I'll get some for the winter of 2010. Too damn broke to afford cross country skis in 2009.

So what do you think they'd call a class for people over 220 lbs or -Gawd forbid- 230 lbs? Maybe I should consult with the Coca Cola Bottling Company.

I tried a little more of the POST method that Jerry Jackson recommended. Jerry used to entertain himself at lunch by tossing the caber. Now he runs. I'm not sure he performs feats of strength any more, but whatever you do, don't let him grab you by the throat. At first it was kinda jarring, but I slowly learned to cushion the impact. Gonna keep experimenting with it. Jerry Jackson looks like he's running on air.

Also doing 6 s l o w pullups, now. If I weren't such a FAT bastard, I might do 7 or 8. Goal is 10. Ten slow pullups in one set. Hard going. But my pullup bar in the garage ROCKS. I can reach it if I stand on the tips of my tippie-toes.