A Trip to Italy (and maybe some runs): Part 2, Alex Gets Me to Rome

Thursday June 6, 2019

New York skyline from JFK

Up and at ‘em bright and early. The morning prep went without incident and we were bright eyed and in the lobby for our shuttle to the airport. Upon arriving, the baggage check line was LONG! Halfway through it, a nice lady checked our tickets and advised that we re-check in as we needed to have our passport “documented.” I suppose these are the little things we don’t know about until we know about them. The rest of the pre-security line stuff would have been easy except that Joey (Rachel’s finance – Rachel is Linda’s niece), was never able to get his tickets re-issued, and THAT was a problem. Nonetheless, after an hour of work (added to 8 on the phone yesterday and even more the day before), all was accomplished.

We zipped through security (TSA Pre!), and met up with John (Linda’s Brother) and his wife Patty, Kyle (John’s son) and his fiancé Kaycee So eight of the twelve villa residents were ready to go. Already in Italy was Blane (Linda’s other brother) and his wife Leslie, Kevin, (Blane’s son) and his wife Alex.

Boarding, always a tedious process, was complete and we took seats 37A & B. Absolute torture. Due to the previous ticket re-issuing fiasco, we were unable to try for better seats. SO, stuck n the back with little room for my crabby knee, hip, butt and back (sounds terrible, right?).

Once airborne, I decided on a free movie, and chose Free Solo, the story of Alex Honnold’s quest to become the first free solo climber to ascend the face of El Capitan in Yosemite. That solo, free: meaning without any aid attached to his body or the rock. Holy Cow! The movie is very well done and Alex, OMG Alex is a monster. One mistake and down he would go to a certain death but his focus on this incredible passion allows the viewer the opportunity to see an awesome place where danger meets obsession, meets self-disciple.  One impressive dude. In fact, I almost cried when he made it to the top, I was so bought-in.

The funniest part of the movie is this woman interviewing Alex and she asks, "I want to be sure I understand this, you make the slightest, tiniest move or mistake and you fall to your death." Alex says, "Yeah, it sounds like you understand."

We landed at JFK and had to make our way to the international terminal. Unlike most airports, at JFK you have to go “out” of the airport to go from terminal 4 to 1. Fortunately, the security lines weren’t long or slow and it seemed to be a breeze. Then, it’s the usual hurry up and wait deal. We grabbed some decent pizza, filled our water bottles and hung out with John and Patty. Before long it was time to get in line. Not sure what the deal is with these flights but for both the SFO to JFK and this one, our printed boarding passes weren’t good enough and we had to re-show our passports to be legal.

On the plane, our seats were pretty cool. An exit row with just the two of us and these nifty portable, pull out TVs with movies, television, games etc…. Amazingly, on AlItalia, instructions are first given in Italian and it seems to go much longer than the English version. Maybe they’re not telling us everything. The part of the plane part that sucked the most was in the beginning taxi-ing and waiting in line for 35 minutes to actually take off. Thought we’d never get up there. BUT, we are and life is good at 40,000 feet.  

But of course, we made it in to Rome. That’s when the day got interesting. First and foremost, Kyle and Kaycee's luggage was nowhere to be found. (P.S.: By the way, their luggage doesn't show up for days. The airline and shuttle companies break one promise after another. Frankly, how Kyle and Kaycee kept it together as well as they did is beyond me). Then, the shuttle driver tried to tell us the reservation was for four. No, it plainly says 8. It’s amazing how the language barrier makes it so they can always blame us. Home court advantage?

Eventually we’re off. Eight of us on our way to Rome via one crazy shuttle driver. Driving is bad enough in the states. Here, it’s a lesson in either full-on offense, or calculated defense. I will later choose the latter.

We arrive around noon, two hours too soon to be able to check in, SO time to kill. A walk to check out some shops followed by a little lunch/snack at a Ristorante next door.  Check-in, once allowed was pretty simple. Our room at Hotel la Feniche, well, let’s call it quaint. As advertised, it was small, and had old world charm. Let me define old world charm: it means that Rome has been around so long that any room, fixture, ceiling etc… can be left as is forever.

Trevi Fountain

Next it was time for some Roman sightseeing. I confess, I have no idea what anything we saw was actually named. So, instead it was fountain one, church two, and so on…  All kidding aside, some gorgeous stuff that goes WAY back. It’s so impressive that Rome has gone to such great efforts to preserve the architectural part of their heritage. We hit the biggie though, the Trevi fountain, made our wish and was good to go. No, I can't tell you what it was.....

It is during sightseeing that the greatest challenge of the family trip (ALL family trips) unfolds: walking around in a group of eight and attempting to achieve the impossible – everyone staying together, at least moderately together. We did, however, make one awesome decision, a restaurant called Klas. OMG, one of the best.

A Trip to Italy (and maybe some runs) Part 1: Finally Leaving

Wednesday June 5.

Ready to go?

Finally, all the details have been completed. Finally, the last trip to WalMart, Marshalls, anywhere.  Really, other than the messy detail surrounding the reissuing of tickets, most of the process has been pretty smooth. I was lucky enough to sneak in a run before leaving, so that was a bonus.

We took an Uber to the airport. Our driver was a fantastic guy named James (we called him Dr. James as he is six months from getting his Doctorate in education (always something I wish I had done – I’m Masters +30). The ride was mostly due to the iffy weather we’ve had. The afternoon storms and hail the last week have made the prospect of having a car sitting out in the open for two weeks seem stupid.

Flights were easy once boarded. A few issues LIKE, if I did this again, I wouldn’t do the leg to San Francisco to meet up with everyone. We would have saved massive time and money by going straight to New York and then to Rome. But, live and learn. Flying Southwest is usually pretty easy and today was no exception. We had a stop in Phoenix and worried a bit about luggage transfer but somehow the process works more than it doesn’t. Stretch seats on both legs of the journey were also a BONUS.

Of course, then comes my pet peeve about the airline industry. Our flight is delayed (okay, it happens). They change the so-called departure time to reflect the delay. Finally our incoming 

plane lands. Everyone gets off and we stand for what seemed like just a little bit short of forever. Now, I get all of this: stuff happens. The peeve revolves around the airlines never seeming to be able to communicate what is happening. If someone just jumped on the horn and kept people informed, they (and I) would be SO much happier.

Once in to San Fran, we took a hotel shuttle to the Hotel Aura, just a few miles from the airport (and cheaper than the $350 a night places nearby. After throwing our stuff into Room 303, we crossed the street to a “Chinese Bar BQ” place that was closing at 11 pm (it was 10:20). OMG, it was great. Our waitress, I think, was hoping for an easy close to her evening and then, BOOM, in strolls a party of 18. She handled it pretty well though (and hopefully was well tipped).

Into bed by 11:10 pm with a wake up alarm set for 3:05 am. Yikes, long day.

Brain/Body Not Connected

I ran four miles this morning. That shouldn't be a big deal, but I suppose it is. It's been a pretty lousy week of some running and some non-running. Getting in good runs during my peak work/travel times is always a challenge, but with this shitty knee, it's even worse. But enough about that.

This morning's run was for the most part not bad. In four miles I had only one knee incident (a knee incident, what I call a pop, is when my leg straightens a little too much, my knee hyperextends and OUCH - feels like bone on bone). Most of the time, if I'm really focused, I can monitor each leg strike and avoid the dreaded pop. That is, however, a lot of focusing on each plant of my left leg.

Anyway....... I had a bit of a revelation this morning. Maybe better named a reality moment. I was running (very optimistic word to describe what I was doing), passed through the first mile at a jog-like 15:19. YIKES, I thought. I have run a 5K faster than that. I have passed through the three mile almost faster than that on my way to 12. I felt embarrassed. Then I thought, what am I embarrassed about? And really, who cares?

It's not like I was fast yesterday and today I am not. Granted, I've evolved from being a 32 minute 10K guy, to trying to break 40, to trying to break 60. But, it's not like that happened overnight, right? Now getting slower, like aging, is a gradual process. But in a way, it's kind of like a haircut where even though you know that your hair is growing consistently, you wake up one morning and BAM..... you need a haircut. AND..... stay with me here..... then you get a haircut and your hair grows again, and BAM.... you need a haircut.

I've had the wake up call that I have been getting slower numerous times. It has, in fact, been documented within this blogging venue. What happened this morning was two awakenings: 

1) My brain is out of touch with my physical reality. My brain still thinks I am a runner. I am motivated, optimistic, ready to hammer that long run. My body, however, does not deliver. Despite watching the World Cross Country Championships this morning and being mentally ready to nail the run, my body says, "not so fast (pun intended)."

2) It's time for a metaphorical haircut. This time, though, I am getting the buzz cut. This time we're taking it all off and starting from scratch. I've been setting myself up for disappointment with this motivated mentality (and don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with motivation). So now, the mindset is simple: I am starting from the basics of someone who just began running, someone freshly recovering from surgery. 

One step at a time. That's the way of the body. It's a long term project with few setbacks if long term is the mindset. And embarrassment? That's strictly mental and.... Please, when was the last time I actually judged myself by what someone else thinks? Hardly EVER. So we simply bring that mindset, along with my overly inflated carcass and run judgment free (hopefully escaping the harshest judgment - my own). I like it.

Run, as Eliud would say, with the run.

Heat Wave AND Are We Still Doing This Stupid Daylight Savings Time Thing?

It was a balmy 14 degrees for my run this morning. That's up from 0 Sunday and then 2. Now, don't get me wrong, 0 in Colorado is not like 0 in say.... Detroit or Chicago. I'll take 0 here over 20 in the Great Lakes. Still a hair chilly - at the least it's tights weather.

In general, this running thing has been light, at best. 30-35 miles a week is the norm and that is with good knee days and bad knee days. What I have enjoyed the most has been the earlier sunrise. I like being able to see at 6 or 6:30. I like that little kids don't have to wait for the school bus in the dark, and I like not having to wear my headlamp for my early jaunts.

Of course, all of that is going away. Soon.....

On Saturday night we will be taking that annual journey into daylight savings time. And let me say right up front, I still don't get it. Why do we humans believe we can't live without manipulating things, especially time? I suppose it's because we invented it.

George Hudson, a New Zealand entomologist, was the first to suggest this in 1895, mostly so that he could have longer light in the evening to, I guess, chase bugs. Port Arthur, Ontario, Canada was the first city to actually implement it back in 1908. Port Arthur, for those of you non-Great Lakers, is on the North side of Lake Superior, which is on the North side of civilization. I've been there and don't understand what there is to see in the evening anyway.

Then came the German Empire. Don't even get me started on this one as my wife and I both have German cars, and given the mediocre GPS functionality, I know why they lost two world wars. In the 70s, the U.S. of A. came onboard.

Proponents cite reduced energy use (been proven to be minimal 0.34%), economic effects (People are more likely to stop at a convenience store on the way home from work if it's still light......... or maybe if they need something. Golf courses see a higher revenue. Oh boy! On the other hand, farmers dislike it), crime rates (some thought they would go down - no significant change), health gains (it's been discovered that some people are more apt to exercise with the extended daylight, BUT heart attacks are up 10%). The jury is OUT. 

So, why?

Not to seem paranoid, but, I believe that Daylight Savings Time is a clear attack on morning people. We morning folk love the sunrise, love the early daylight and are generally the chirpiest of people in the A.M.  Depressed, cynical, grumps can't stand it. And since the world is run, for the most part, but depressed, cynical, grumps..... we're stuck.

Just know this, grumps: until the light comes back (May-ish), there'll be fewer people whistling, humming, and being chirpy. In your world that means fewer annoyances. It's okay, we'll get even in November.

Run on (although in the dark).

Valentine's Day Mantra: I Heart My Running, I Heart My Running. I Heart My Running

Hoping to avoid another whine session, I'll get this out of the way early: what a crappy beginning to the new year of running. Already down 45 miles from last year. Done. Now, let's move on.

I've hit this little groove the last few runs. It's called minimal discomfort. It is characterized by there being no pain in my knee, no sensation of imminent collapse in my knee, no feeling of structural damage in my knee. I realize that my knee is there, and that it's not perfect, but it's okay (and okay is the new awesome). This phenomenon is three days old.

On day one, I ran a meager 3 miles. I was kind of amazed at how I felt (knee wise - I still felt old and out of real shape otherwise). Day two had me waking with less stiffness and pain than is usual, so I doubled down. I decided to give the Rock Tape thing another whirl. Result: another good run. 5 miles. So yesterday I decided to GO BIG, or go home. I ran 7 pretty nice miles (by the way I did go home after I ran so I guess I did GO BIG AND GO HOME).

Rocking the Rock Tape

There truly is a part of me that is hopeful that today's run will be #4. I'm also smart enough to know that these things do not simply disappear. The wear and tear of 53 1/2 years and 113,000+ miles is not something that magically vanishes. The bad knee run is coming and when it does I'll have to tolerate it. In the meantime, I am seriously on the lookout for a good doctor to help me re-evaluate what has transpired since my surgery over two years ago. Finding that "Dr Right" is kind of difficult and very scary as I thought I had her last time and was so, so wrong.

On yet another optimistic note, my pace, while incredibly pedestrian, is getting better. My 14 to 15 minute shuffles has given way to 12 to 13 minute blazing as I slowly (and I mean SLOWLY) make improvements. Like any progress, what was once challenging has given way to what is now challenging. The best thing is that despite all of this frustration and some high level impatience, my motivation is high.

So that's a wrap (or maybe a Rock Tape job). Hope your running is going well. Hope your life is going well.

Run on.

Nothing to See Here, Move Along (Caution: Whiner alert!)

This isn't the blogpost you're looking for. Obi-Wan Kenobi tried to tell you that. Well, since you're far too powerful to be Jedi mind tricked and you're not moving along, let's get on with this post.

As I am already immersed in my running for 2019, I look back upon the previous year understanding that it was not the best running year I've had. It was not the worst either, it just seemed like it.

It began innocently enough with a five mile run on New Years Day. I wrote, "Not too bad - knee stiff and sore but loosened some." The next day, "Advil and Rock Tape helped knee a little."  Knee, knee, knee..... if I had a hundred dollars for every time I wrote the word in my logbook..... well, I'd have a lot of Benjamins.

It wasn't all bad. The first half of the year it actually seemed like I might approach 2500 miles for the year and get comfortable with this questionable joint whose name I will no longer type. I had runs of 13, 14, and three 16s just in March alone. I put together three weeks over 60 miles. Not bad for an old guy.

April was highlighted by a two week work sting in Idaho where I ran consistently well with good overall mileage. It all culminated with the Eugene Half Marathon (was originally running the full marathon) where I ran without significant pain or discomfort and did okay. May went pretty much the same and the annual Bolder Boulder 10K was decent. June began with the Dexter to Ann Arbor Half, a race that was originally fifteen miles (I know this because I ran that first one in 1974 - placed 14th, by the way). A terrible rainy, chilly day where everything felt lousy. The half year ended with 1250 miles, I hadn't missed a single day of running and I had the thought that I might be able to crank it up and get in 2700.

July went well until the San Francisco Half Marathon (which was also supposed to be a full marathon). I felt pretty darned good through 10 miles and then on a downhill heard/felt two pops in my knee (oops, I used that word, sorry). I jogged in. That moment of hyperextension on a downhill changed the year. The day after: July 30, I took a day off

For the next five months I would spend the time dodging the hyperextension. My mileage dropped, my pace slowed. The "normal" feeling was one of pain (felt like bone on bone) along with a sense that any moment that thing that connects my shin to my thigh might buckle. Sucked. Many log posts in August were reduced to how many "pops" occurred on a run. I repeat: it sucked. (By the way, I withdrew from the Chicago and Cal International Marathons in addition to those previously mentioned).

On November 8, I awoke with the Mother of all colds and decided to take the day off. That day became ten days. Why not? There was certainly no reason to run through a cold (the old me would have never believed I'd have that attitude, but I did).There would be three more days off bringing the total to 17. So, I ran 348 days last year. Most people would find that to be a good thing. I just stare at the seventeen 0s (glass WAY half empty on that one).

Long story short, I ran 2148 miles in 2018. The early ones went fairly well, the later ones not so much. It brought the grand total to 113,198.

After clicking "publish" in a few moments, I will head out the door. That THING will feel as its felt the last half year or so, lousy. Something's gotta change. We'll see what it is.

Run on.