What a BUMmer

I haven’t been able to run for nearly a week. I am feverishly cross training in hopes of not losing the strength I’ve gained the past months of training. I’m stretching. I’m foam-rolling. I’m using my stick religiously. Wednesday evening I went to Nic Ebright, a sports massage therapist, so that he could massage my butt in hopes of getting the extra ooph I need  to get back on the pavement, (or trails) running. Nic told me to write about this… this… I can’t say it…

Writing about it does not admit this is an injury just yet. I’m still moving. I’m doing everything I can to make sure this feeling in my glute doesn’t get worse. I’m slowing down and listening to my body, and Nic.

Sorry if you’ve seen me and I’ve been cranky, I need a run.

Excuse me while I go stretch…it’s a bummer, but I gotta stretch before I hit the road for work!

What’s your threshold?

I’ve been meaning to write a post all week, however, work must take priority over this silly little blog and I’ve lacked the time and the energy to write something worth reading. Though I did think about it all week, about what I was going to write about. First, I thought I’d write about the 74 degree semi-long-run I had at a reservoir on my way out of Delaware. It was a run that was so unseasonably hot and more or less a miserable hour and half of my life. Then I was going to write about my longest run ever to date (17 miles, 50 degrees 40 mile per hour winds that nearly blew me and my running group into the Inner Harbor last Saturday.)

However, I’m going to write about my run today. It was a long run that ended up being about 16.5 miles, this 16.5 miles happened at 7:30 am this morning after a 4pm 12 mile run yesterday afternoon/evening. Tired legs gearing up to run a long long way.  This run started out with my group, The Pacemakers, and was a bowtie loopty loop that allowed me to not carry water because I ended up at my car every 4-6 miles and I was able to hydrate, genius because I’ve yet to buy a hydration pack and ended my 17 miles last week very salty and very sick.

The first ten miles were great, we were all chatty, talking about the beautiful morning we finally had, the sun was shining, I was able to wear shorts, (it was 34 when we started but warmed up to about 41…perfect!) The first two lets of our journey felt great. When the third leg began I, among other runners, was feeling pretty good. (I was surprised, I thought my legs would be dragging more, I thought my feet would be hurting–)


Fast-forward two miles. My legs began to drag, my feet throbbed, I went silent.



I could hear Bob’s footsteps behind me. This sound kept my feet moving, kept me from looking behind, kept me from walking, all the other kids with the pumped up kicks better run better run… someone told last night to sing Foster The People to keep me going. ALL THE OTHER KIDS WITH THE PUMPED UP KICKS BETTER RUN BETTER RUN… I was shouting in my head, I had to keep going, I couldn’t stop


—the silent miles had begun.


The Silent Miles: I think all runners hit a point. Not the wall but A Point in a training run where all falls silent. We get so absorbed in our head, our thoughts, our own personal demons and motivations that we go silent. My personal threshold has gotten longer, I used to only be able to go 10 or so miles before I fell silent. I stop talking, I stare straight ahead and concentrate, hard. At this point in my training I’m not really sure what my threshold is, I hit it a bit earlier this week because of the combination of last night’s 12 miles and the run this morning. Fatigued began I even began.

But today’s silence was okay. I’m okay with silence; I still had Bob’s feet and breathing behind me, the road in front of me, and the knowledge that I had a big cup of coffee at the end of the run. I finished 15 miles and ran another loop, on my own, to get in another mile and a half. This is where my personal motivation began to lack, this is where I fell apart and walked a bit. But this is the point that I remembered to listen to my body and remind myself that in the past 15 hours I had put in nearly 28 miles.

My body is broken down, (but not broken) and will rest and recover tonight and tomorrow. The Silent Miles are what make us stronger, they’re what make us realize what we are truly capable of.

A short introduction:

Thanks for stopping here. This is my blog, I’m Sloan and I’m just going to lay it out there for you quick and easy on this first blog to, hopefully, eliminate any confusion or questions one may have about who I am or what this blog’s mission is.

I love to run. I hate it too. I travel the mid-Atlantic of the United States (that means—Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and DC) I do this for a living to talk about shoes all day long. I love to eat. I also hate it. Eating of course is great fuel but as someone who has struggled with weight, it can also be an added stressor in life. I want to write about the great places I run, eat and travel, hopefully I’ll meet some people to talk to them along the way and be able to share my experience with the blogg-o world.

I’m also on Twitter and need more lemmings so that I can keep teasing my friend about having more followers then him, so follow me @Sloan0 and it’ll be great.

Other things I love: reading, yoga, attempting to write (cough*cough, that’s why I’m starting a blog…) good wine, craft beer, amazing cups of coffee, or shitty cups of coffee in amazing coffee shops, great conversation… okay this is starting to sound like a Match.com profile—enough! Please read and tell your friends about it. Feel free to comment and make suggestions as you see fit. Or if you’re in my neck o’ the woods (my neck is huge) hit me up and we’ll go for a run through the woods or get lost in the city!