Another Day, Another Mile

Paul Burke, The True Comeback Story

2012-01-08T21:53:00.015-06:00

So, every so often I write a story over someone... Someone with an interesting tale. Past stories/write-ups can be found here:

www.miletomile.blogspot.com/2010/07/everyone-has-story.html

http://miletomile.blogspot.com/2010/08/watch-it-purple_15.html

http://miletomile.blogspot.com/2011/03/everybody-has-story-round-3.html

Just recently I got ahold of the man, The Myth, The Legend... Paul Burke. In my most annoying, perhaps, standard voice... "Hey, Paul! What's up home-dawg!" I asked Paul if he'd be up for an interview, and low and behold, the story is to be told.

What made you decide for the comeback this year? How did you feel about the past cross country season?

Paul Burke- I had been building my mileage all summer and had finally crossed the 100mpw marker. Since, I'm from Wyoming and go to school at the University of Wyoming, I know some guys on the team. My old high school teammate, Taylor Kelting, and UW's number 1 guy, Greg Miller, came to me asking me to run for the team this year. We had a very strong top four runners... (I interrupt... "Ah, like the 4 musketeers!")

*awkward pause* Paul continues, "And if I could contribute to the top 5, it looked like we would have a shot at making nationals. I thought about it for a while, spoke with my parents, etc, and decided "what the hell?" Since, I'm a fifth year senior I saw it as my last opportunity to run collegiately, and I didn't want to have any thoughts of "what if" twenty years from now. (It should be noted, Paul has not run collegiately since the 2008 track season, and re-entered last cross country season of 11'). Unfortunately we had some injury problems on the team and didn't make it to nationals. I joined a month into the season and only ran three races, but I felt they went well. I don't think I ever really reached peak fitness due to the short season, but it was very encouraging and I'm looking forward to track."

During my sophomore year of OSU, there was a new class welcomed onto the team, "The Freshman". Two Minnesotans, two Missouri kids, and then a Wyoming guy... "Paul Burke". Paul slightly big in comparison to the stature of a typical scrawny runner, abnormally large fists, curly hair, and always repping peach fuzz and a smile. Paul was what parents called, "The All-American guy."

Jedi Squirrels- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7zPSSLJaXd4 -

As the first day of practice came about, a 4 mile tempo run on the track. Paul came in slightly out of shape, as the tempo had to be divided up into 800m segments. Afterwards, a few separate groups went there ways on the cool down, and in my group, some chit chat commenced on the cool down. Which basically was simple personal, yet friendly, attacks.

"Hey, your mom still easy?"

"About as easy as yours"

*oooh burn*

"You're gay"

"That's not what your mom said last night"

*oooooh*

Yes, people, the jokes were a little more in-depth than noted. I can't seem to recall the exact logistics, as I was currently preoccupied with thoughts of cake, ice cream cake.

I then pipe up, "Alright guys, I got a joke...."

*pause*

"Alright, let's hear it"

"So... There's an over abundance of squirrels at a church. To such a degree, they began to take over the church and started to overwhelm the members of the church, in such a manner, that SOMETHING had to be done to rid these rodents. At first, they tried to lead the squirrels astray by food and other resources. As this did not work and these varmints kept coming back. Another time, the members gathered these squirrels and took them far out into the country. Only later to see the squirrels making their way back onto the church's grounds. FINALLY, one member of the church puts forth one brilliant idea. He commences to make the squirrels honorary members of the church... And now they only come back for Easter and Christmas!"

*Long awkward pause*

FINALLY... One guys speaks up..... "Clay, never... and I mean NEVER tell that joke or any joke for the matter again, and may God HELP your soul."

*pause*

Teammate: "Hey, I kind of liked it..."

Another guy: "That's what she said!" ... And back to regular convo.

As we discussed the freshman's future potential and who would be good. Paul gets brought up... I blurt, "I'm taking Paul under my wing, I like him!!!" One guy murmurs... "Poor guy". I look over, "What?" I said, "That'll be good for him!"

"Why and when did you start running?"

Paul Burke-"I've been running my whole life, but it was mostly on the playground until I joined cross-country in 7th grade. I did it because I was the fastest distance runner at my school growing up. So, I thought I might have potential in the sport. I can be extremely competitive, and running allows me to truly test my limitations against others."

"Ah, so you like hunting people and animals down?!" Paul Burke- "Uhg, What Clay?"... "I said, I can relate, GREAT answer Paul :) !" Paul murmurs, "The kid's still a beat off".... "What Paul?" "Uhg, I said, "That's great, Clay!"

As weeks passed, and months, Paul started to get his form back. By the end of first semester, he clipped off a 55 minute 10 mile tempo, over gravel, hills AND in a snowstorm. Rumor has it, on that run, Paul encountered a Grizzly Bear. Legend by told, Paul simply showed the Bear his fist. The Bear proceeded to eat itself, as it would be a less painful way to die. That poor bear didn't stand a chance in hell.

People began to give Paul his due respect, and as I said from the beginning, "Give him time". Come track season, Paul ran a fine 3000 meter steeple chase and his future years in college were looking 'promising'. The year ends, and thus preparation for cross country was the next plan of action.

By cross time, later to find out, Paul was going to attend Wyoming. That's all I heard aside from some snickers about his future and it being a "closed case". Not much later, and hearing from Paul, the man himself, he said he was still going to run. My thoughts, "Please do, don't let your talents get away from you."

"Who inspired you most along the way?"

Paul Burke- "No one person in particular. I have had many great teammates and friends throughout my career who helped me relax and enjoy the little things but also helped me realize what it took to excel in the sport. Everyone I ran with from freshman year of high school through college contributed to my success in some way. As for pros, I love watching videos of Pre, Coe, El G, Lagat, and Solinsky. Solinsky's 10k AR finish gives me chills every time. "

Animals talk?--- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQ1HKCYJM5U ---

Every so often, I'd talk to Paul and catch. He always seemed like he was doing well, and he kept saying he was training. Typically, and MANY runners find themselves in a similar situation. They wanted to get a new atmosphere for whatever reason, and thus are no longer tied down to train at "this time" and do "so and so" instructed training. In conclusion, causing 99% of runners to no longer be competitive, and "They're done". It's almost an easy bet to make, as is almost ALWAYS the case.

That's what's fascinating with Paul, he was not the standard case. Far from it. Over the 3 1/2 years he was not connected to a college team, I'd mention to him, "You really should run for the University of Wyoming!" By Paul's 5th and final season of collegiate eligibility, Paul made the decision and for whatever reason... He joined. I was pumped when he mentioned it on Facebook and thought, "Awesome, he'll have fun with it.". That was saying the least, as I occasionally lurked results and noticed Paul's performance at conference, at a VERY stacked conference, "WOW, PAUL GOT 8TH?! HOLY COW?!" As I saw names behind Paul... "Damn, he just handed a collegiate All-American his as..."

"Any defining moment(s) in your running career?"

Paul Burke- "I came into cross-country in the best shape of my life my junior year of high school. I was expected to run away with the state title, but after training and health issues and collapsing near the finish at the state meet, I ended up 6th. It was the worst race of my life, and no one thought I'd ever win again. I took indoor track off to train on my own, and that only caused people to gossip about me and spread rumors that I was lazy and tired of running. It seemed everything I did was misunderstood. I came out for spring track and won by 12 seconds in 4:24.0 in my first race (To be noted, this is at ELEVATION), a PR by more than 3 seconds, a meet record, and the fastest time anyone had run in the state in more than 6 years. It quieted a lot of the naysayers, but it also proved to me I could come back and win again. It gave me a lot of confidence in myself and extinguished all self-doubt."

Then came Regionals.... Paul spoke up to his coach beforehand, "Today coach, I will run to one song and one song only!", cue music- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cDKAC7cyiJg (In a monotone voice that can be heard at the end of commercials, "Please, do not take the context of the songs lyrics for any deeper, hidden meaning. The words are simply provocative... IT GET'S THE PEOPLE GOING!"

"So, Pauly B, may I call you Pauly B? But anyhow, can you entail how regionals played out for you? From my standpoint, you were kind of an underdog going into the race(Regionals) for an individual bid in making NCAA XC..."

Paul Burke- "Regionals was kind of a surprise. I knew I was in good shape and was hoping to be All Region, but I didn't think I had a shot at nationals realistically since I was 8th just in our conference. I would have had to beat about 6 guys at Regionals that I didn't beat at conference just to have a chance, so I kind of went in the race without any high hopes. It was also my first competitive 10k, and I didn't want to run too aggressively and then die. I ran a smart race going out controlled, running mostly even splits until the last mile which was significantly faster than the others (4:40ish) but I finished knowing I could have run faster had I pressed more during miles 4 and 5. To top it off, coming down the last 400m, I passed several guys, one of them being Nate Jewkes from Southern Utah. There were guys in front of me, but none were close enough to real in and I wasn't gaining on any of them. At 9900m of a 10000m race, you're hurting, and with no one to catch and no one around me, I was only running at about 99%. With 20m to go Jewkes comes out of nowhere and gets half a step on me and there was just no time to react in that short of distance. He nipped me by 0.3 seconds and ended up being the last individual to qualify for nationals. I had beaten everyone from our conference except for the MWC champion, a 3:59/7:54/13:36 guy, but I was so down on myself knowing I had let an opportunity slip through my fingers. It was the reminder I needed after a four-year absence from racing that you never give anything less than your all when running a race, especially when there's a chance for something great, no matter how small that chance may be.

"Highs in running? Low's in running?"

Paul Burke-"There've been many of both over the years, though they've leveled out some since leaving collegiate running my freshman year. I've learned to appreciate life without running, and though I still love running and will run as long as I can, it's not the only thing I care about. I can take it very seriously without it controlling my happiness. That being said, any period of injury is a low, and any PR or major win is a high. I also love the natural high one gets after a really tough workout or race. There’s nothing like putting in a really hard effort with your teammates."

"Any interesting thoughts, or anything random to add on your mind?"

Paul Burke-"If you want to be the best runner you can be, learn everything you can about the sport, particularly what training brings people to success. Learn from guys like Arthur Lydiard and Jack Daniels, but also from your own training history...

Run happy."

-Clay J. Mayes the 3rd

400m repats.... ALL DAY, EVERYDAY... A "Torrential" downpour

2011-07-14T04:13:00.005-05:00

As mentioned, I'm going to list my training, and give more running to running accounts of my training. And I can finally say my goal again, "I want to make the Olympic Trials Marathon this January." I have pushed back my qualifier attempt, given the broken femur, torn hip flexor, and torn glute... but if at first you don't succeed, try, try, again. So, I'll shoot for a qualifier this November or December as I will take the half marathon qualifying route. To which, that is a sub 65 half marathon. A harder qualifier than the marathon itself, at a respectable 4.58 mile pace or faster for 13.1 miles. 'Juicy.'

Help an orphan squirrel-

www.youtube.com/user/mktb000?v=f1ImydMx6VI&feature=pyv&ad=7828583892&kw=squirrel

To build up confidence, and what I'm famous for, 400m repeats.

3 weeks ago, as of tomorrow, I will have done the following the last handful of 400m workouts in this repetition - 16- Then went to altitude- 18- 16- 22- 27- 30... And today was 34. Problem with today's workout, a respectable storm was coming through, and I postponed the workout. As it was a last minute decision in the process of finishing up a warm-up. Rarely, will I cancel a workout snow, rain, ice, or whatever, but today, with the hail that came down 10 minutes later, I decided, "For once Clay, you weren't 'completely' retarded."

2 minutes later, "Nevermind, scratch that," I was already in a pissed off mood. My thoughts, "Mother nature can go kill herself before she wins this battle."

As I procrastinated with the 400m workout, it was already dusk. Another issue, a rather large storm cloud was approaching. I thought, it doesn't look 'that' bad. I mean, the hail was already done... And it probably didn't help that I was jamming to this as the apocalypse of storm clouds approached- www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtlw9eVMypo

As the warm-up is finished, I find myself brushing my right foot across the gravel/dirt track, "smoothing" it out. Problem is, I estimated doing this for a solid 5 minutes. To tell you the truth, there was nothing wrong with it, as I kept sliding my foot from side to side on the ground, scattering now non-existent gravel across the underlying dirt. At times, I can be a 'bit' OCD, to such a degree, people notice... Usually not... "Usually." At times, "Clay, if you touch your shoe laces one more time... ONE MORE TIME, I SWEAR... I SWEAR!!!"

Typically, I do have it under control, but sometimes, eerrrr, "I HAVE to fix that, I HAVE to touch that." The only time it affects my daily life is when I'm taking notes in class. As I will repeatedly write over everything I've written down, over and over and over again til the point it looks ridiculously bolded, inky, and of course, 'cool'. - 20 minutes later - Class ends, and I'll have little to nothing of what the teacher said, as I could only focus on re-writing over a paragraph I had, 'lucky me,' it included my thoughts making a time machine. Personal thoughts on the issue, "Money."

I throw down a few light strides. I throw off my black nike pants, a grey rain jacket, change into my workout socks, "Yes," there is such a thing, and of course, throw on bright green racing flats. As a few drops are shed from the sky, a dark loom in the air, let's get'it down.

As I churn the first few repeats, I feel rusty. Beginning to wonder if my 7.5 mile tempo I did was still in the legs, "Aaaaaaannnnndddd, it was." As is human nature, the brain, and I believe it's the left side, is the side that produces negative thoughts, emotions, and feelings. Crazy as it goes, being self conscious of the long workout, annoyed by being tired.... My thoughts, "Will you shut the hell up! I'm in charge." Beginning to get more "Errrr" from the weather, and the already tired legs, I will NOT be denied this workout. I will NOT.

By repeat #5 it starts raining, actually, that's an understatement, it POURS. Repeat after repeat and 10 into the count of 34, wind picks up, lightning streaks across the sky from all directions. "Bring it on, Bitch!"

Even more pissed off, as if, mother nature was to have some say in my workout, I continue forth. As I paced back in forth, 60-70 seconds between reps, a walk-joggish rest in-between, wind blasting heaving rains in my face... Again, and again, and again... This would not lead to me being a happy camper, by any means.

By the the 16th repeat, the track is completely saturated, the inside of the track containing a puddle all around the 400 meter gravel oval. And yet, I still would NOT be denied this.

Perseverance, well if that's what you want to call it, but it's more than that. It's some kid that makes out a false enemy and thinks mother nature is some symbolic being trying to piss him off, and boy... I still believe it.

I know what you're thinking reading this, what is wrong with this kid?! I assure you, that question has been asked many times, each time, nothing more than a baffled response of, "I don't know..." and look of confusion is put forth.

Repeat after repeat, feet striking the ground, crunching of the gravel, water splashing, gravel gathering places only the imagination can think of, I continued forth.

By repeat 27, cold and the continued blasting of heavy rain into my face, to which, only led to me making sure I was to win this battle. And I swear to God, I will kill mother nature. My current thoughts can be expressed in this song- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kJMH916DS4

By repeat 34, the last and final repeat, a slight chill in the air, and what do you know, the bitch, known as mother nature, stops the pouring, no wind, no nothing. As I roll off the final repeat, "FINALLY!" My favorite part in running, the cool-down. I can listen to some music, and gather my thoughts. As I grab my bag, and trot to the bleachers to change from soaked racing flats into soaked trainers, I did not care. I get to enjoy the cool-down, that's all I cared about momentarily.

I kid you not, and I couldn't make this up if I tried. It starts to rain... that's an understatement... a torrential downpour is cast forth, as some sort of sick joke. "Well, so much for listening to some jams to enhance my buzz from the workout. Lightning being cast forth, rain slapping my face, I did not care anymore. Tired of being soaked, cold, and yes, the continuing of rain slapping me in the face for the whole 2 hour workout. I decided... to cut the cool-down short. I proceeded to trot 10 minutes, and call it a day. I immediately proceed to trot over to my car, Shout out to the sky, "TAKE THAT BITCH!" And gladly went home, and wrote in my journal, Clay - 1 vs. Mother Nature - 0.

By the way, I don't have a journal. I'm not 'that' nerdy. Close though!

To the people that want an update on training, here is the last 8 days, and "Yes," the volume and miles of runs and workouts is growing fast.

July 6th-

25 min. warmup- 30x400m, gravel/dirt track- 30 minute cool-down

20 minute bike later

July 7th-

70 minute run

25 minute run later

July 8th-

35 minute run

80 minute run later

July 9th- My EASY day-

35 minutes easy

25 minutes easy later

July 10th-

3 mile warmup- 12k tempo, that raised 1000 feet first half (Dear God, that was tough)- 10 minute cool-down

50 minute run later

July 11th-

70 minute run

22 minute run later, followed immediately by 16 minute bike spin

-Sore as a mug-

July 12th-

80 minutes/strides

20 minute run later

July 13th-

3 mile run

20 minute warmup- 34x400m in torrential downpour on gravel/dirt track-10 minute cooldown. (Pushing bike off till tomorrow, and 'light drills', SECRET drills)

Run range from 6000-7300 feet for these 8 days of running/training. Also, typically on rolling hills, excluding 400m repeat days.

I may take a down week for 400ms next week (maybe 26?), then do 40 the next week. I might race a mile road race, and/or 3k road race that occur on the week days next week... I'll keep you informed!

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

Also- www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGhZHlpSE6k

Despite your efforts... You have succeeded!

2011-06-25T00:57:00.002-05:00

Alright, I've been a little out of the loop in keeping up with 'The Blog', but I'll try to keep it more informative, as I believe all injuries are now under control.

First-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9zqIUZ2-hs&feature=related

Update:

Just over a handful of weeks ago, I took a couple weeks off due to a chronic achilles problem. The source of injury? Taking all the time off for my femur. My thoughts, "Are you F'ing kidding me". No lie, I've been mentally burnt, dealing with my torn hip flexor, cracked femur, torn glute, and now achilles issues. If one's will power isn't tested here, I don't know when it is.

As I find myself talking to, yet another doctor, and me giving him the spill. He agreed on the injury flaring up from tendons being weakened from the time off, and the fact of it slowly warming up as the weeks passed by getting back into running.

I ran on a vertical break in my femur, to which, was roughly several inches to a foot long in the break... for six weeks. "Ya, ya"... It was painful and borderline rough. It was do-able though. This achilles thing, not so. The pain was too much, as I do have a high pain tolerance, but "Enough is enough" was my current mentality. So, I pretty much said, "Fuck you Achilles" and stabbed that bastard with a much feared and NEVER prescribe cortisone shot to that area, "A last resort, if you will". And btw, I apologize for the language, I used it for 'emphasis', as my old Canadian friend used to say when I'd give him flack for cussing.

The achilles problem did NOT go away with that cortisone shot. It did allow me to FINALLY walk around without hobbling in pain... As I previously could not walk around without shoes on, half the time having to have a boot on, in order, to lessen the pain. So, I did the smart thing. I took advantage of this, and began strengthening drills and rehab, and yes, was able to easy-run-it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RU0AK5AJiGI "A new you"

6 weeks later, in full swing, and back up to par. Far from the task at hand, but rolling, to the extent, "Hey, this is Clay's ego... Ya, I'm faster than you." As I say this to a random 80 year woman in Wal-Mart.... Just had to let her know! Kidding... mostly..

I will NOW start posting my running/training here, as promised a long time ago. Although, I won't go into the same depth with stories, I will make an effort to do so, 'here and there'... with requests from others.

Here has been the past 9 days of training:

June 15th-

20 minute warmup- 16x400m (hot as a mug) on a turf field- 14 minute cooldown.

2nd run- 15 minutes and SECRET DRILLS.

June 16th-

35 minute run.

2nd run- 60 minutes

June 17th-

4 mile run-

2nd run- 18 minute warmup- 1200m tempo pace, 2 minute jog- 12 x 60 seconds (fast)- 70 second jog in-between- 2 mile cooldown and SECRET DRILLS

June 18th-

30 minute run.

2nd run- 60 minute run (turf field)

June 19th-

11 mile progression, first day at altitude. At 6000 feet and got down to 5.30 last mile. Comfortable. Annnnnnd.....

2nd run of the day, 32 minutes. Meditated for 30 minutes later.

June 20th-

18 minute warmup- 18x400m on a secluded dirt track at 6500 feet... "No problem", but with the wind of 20 mph I was on suicide watch by repeat number 4. 18 minute cooldown. SECRET DRILLS.

No second run... Decided to knit.

June 21st-

9 mile run, 7000 feet and 'then some', "Chilled".

2nd run- 50 minutes

June 22nd-

65 minute trail run over hills

2nd run- 30 minutes

June 23rd-

20 min. warmup- 16x400m at dirt track, nice weather, aside from altitude. 18 min. cooldown.

2nd run- 30 minutes, 15 min. fast spin on stationary bike, and SECRET DRILLS.

IF YOU BLOODSUCKERS WANT MORE, "Fine". I'll share a SHORT story, as I try to bring consistency back to Le Blog. In every athletes life, they have their DEFINING moments.

I have a few... And I will share one.

Roughly a year or so into the sport, I called up an elite master's runner and asked if I could go on a run with him. The guy being 46, and recently running a 16.06 5k to his name in a road race. I, on the otherhand, a puny 8th grader, weighing in at mega 90 pounds, and my current 5k pr at the time being 17.17.

His name being, Pete, an elite master's running in the Tulsa community, and ironically living in the same town as me. The small town of Claremore, just 15,000 or so inhabitants at the time, by no means a running community, yet producing one of the nations best masters runners, and as for me, "An aspiring runner."

Pete would always give me a few pointers, road race to road race, and now, "Taking me under his wing." As I would be hard on myself, by 'this and that' performance, he would keep my head straight. As I would learn the importance of taking a step back, learning there is a mentality to the sport. I would say this is hard to explain, but I learned an 'intuition' in the sport of running.

As I called Pete up, he told me, "Ya, come on out! We'll do an 11 miler. I got a route." As I met with Pete the next day, we talked and stretched, and then proceeded onward to the run. The thing is, Pete did NOT hold back when I ran with him. Whether joining him for a long run, or workout, he ran true to what he originally planned on running. He was NOT workout warrior by any means, but rather, very meticulous in his training. Thriving off quality miles on his important days, and so forth. And lucky me, today was one of those 'quality' days for Pete. As we set forth, the pace attainable, the weather pleasant, only to have a slightly chill to it, but pleasant none-the-less.

We clicked off a couple miles, and so forth, as the pace continued to build, and so did my effort that was being put forth. "Luckily", Pete picked the freaking most hilly route Claremore had to offer. Did I tell you, Pete liked hills?"

As we turned around at 5.5 miles, and into the a strong headwind, "Luckily", the wind was actually to our back the first 5.5 miles... Again, "Luckily." As my little hard headed self continued forward, I did what I could to zone out from the pain. Pete, un-phased, which is quite standard.

As for me, well, I began to enter a world of hurt. Being a test of will, or the God's of bad weather, but at 7.5 miles or so into the run, the weirdest weather began to stir up, as we ran along. With winds picking up more fiercely, and I kid you not, with a quick flash, it began to pour snow pallets. Not the soft, 'fun' kind of snow, the kind that hurt. Pete clicking along, still un-phased. Me... Well, I had one and one thought only, "Where the HELL is oncoming traffic?!" I kept looking for cars, ANY CARS! And wanted to end it, as my pride wouldn't allow me to say anything about the hastened pace, or less than ideal weather. "Unluckily," not ONE car drove by.

And "Yes", I was being serious about looking for oncoming traffic.

Pete looks over, seeing me red faced, cold from the drastically weather change, most likely drooling on myself... "Hey, tuck in behind me." As Pete MAKES sure I tuck in, rather than let my ego completely kill myself. I'm able to hold on as the run progresses, hill after hill, a random snow storm, some strong winds, and a 'brisk' running pace, the run finally comes to an end, "THANK GOD!"

I try to play it cool, "Ya, that was a good run!" *short pause* Although, I couldn't help, but spit out, "But that last hill KILLED me."

Pete, plain faced, looks over at me, "What hill?"

I clearly try to explain, "That hill..." Pointing off in its direction.

Pete pipes up, "I didn't notice that hill or any other hills for that matter."

Me: :|

After being in a state of confusion, Pete finally tells me, "Look, it may be windy, hilly, or whatever. You can't worry about how bad some factor is. You have to face it, and conquer it without thinking twice about it."

I learned to hold this advice close to me for years.

To the point, my junior year at OU, I would routinely say on runs when someone complained about the wind or hills, "What hill?", "What wind?" As they would be thrown off, and sincerely try to explain which hill, or convince me, "It was windy." After a while, they finally caught on. To the point, they pulled the same junk on me, routinely. Ha, that being said, running... It's a mentality. That's it in short.

p.s. If you want to tick someone off, say stuff like this on a run... Serious.

Spark notes: Pete holds 49 age group and single age records for the state of Oklahoma, to which, Oklahoma is known famously for many of its great masters runners it's produced. Pete being one of the best, as he's still going strong, and to what I believe, will run a 16.3x before this years end, perhaps faster. I wouldn't be surprised in the least bit.

What's ironic, is this past year and a half, both Pete and I obtained long lay-off injuries. Although, at times, it didn't look so great for a comeback, we both have made our way back into the mix.

As for me, I hope to FINALLY make a comeback this Sunday in a very respectable field, and if not so, then the next race, if not then... Then the next race... As I will continue to put forth whatever effort is needed to succeed, as I've learned from Pete, "It's a mentality, it's a lifestyle."

...Although, this Sunday I am racing at 6000 feet, and have by no means, had enough time to adapt to it, but I'm sure you'd know what Pete would say,

"What altitude?"

Exactly.

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

And- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSK1D3bZhRs&feature=related

Everybody has a Story, Round 3

2011-03-10T22:07:00.001-06:00

First things first- Ducks are kind of cool... Evidence- http://www.thatvideosite.com/video/duck_gets_piece_of_bread_dances_with_glee

Before I dip into the post, I will post training and "EVERYTHING" in my next post. Which will be within the next week.

This will be the 3rd edition of, "Everybody has a Story", to view the first two click just below. As this will be the third edition of, "Everybody has a Story". Which the first edition of this story can be found here: www.miletomile.blogspot.com/2010/07/everyone-has-story.html and the 2nd edition/story of Schwabby can be found here- http://miletomile.blogspot.com/2010/08/watch-it-purple_15.html .

As my first story dealt with a guy who has LITERALLY saved his own life, and the following story deals with a local blue collar runner, now collegiate All-American, this current story deals with a fellow by the name, "Richard."

Referred to in many 'friendly' names, the reason being, Richard is bit thicker than the typical runner. Is he fat? "No". If he fat to a runnner's eyes, our eyes? "NO. DOUBT." Name's one might call Richard at any given moment, "Tubby/tubs, Lard/Lardo, Fatty/Fatso, Bitch Tits (My favorite... in case you were wondering), and an all to popular phrase used, "Hey Richard did you run today?" And before he is allowed to respond, "Oh, ya, you definitely have! To the fridge and back! ... a few times!" Unphased as always, Richard is clearly used to this banter from everyone, including me, in a moppy-like voice, "Clay, you would get along with my dad, he makes fun of me too."

^ Upon reading that last bit, did you just say, "AWWW" outloud? I bet you did.''

Richard is a relatively smart kid. As he is majoring in engineering... And contiuously on top of his studies, becoming a club member at OU's library, referred lovingly as, "Sweetheart", by the 75 year old librarian who runs the place, known as, "Miss Georgina". To Richard, "Miss Georgousina"... I don't know about you, but I can't even pronounce that. I think it's a play on words, or "something". Up on his studies, yet, witty to insults, Richard is different from the norm. As this interview is taking place, I can't help but ask the standard questons, "So, Richard, what's interesting about you?" He takes a moment, looks around. A peanut jar lays on the ground (opened), clothes scattered, food wrapers left and right, the carpet has not been vacuumed and by the looks of it, never has been, but what appears to be important, the TV on top of the desk, controller in hand, the game known as, "COD" on... Richard non-chalantly looks over and responds, "I like to live in a clutter."

If you're a gaming nerd, and were wondering, Richard is about as good as this guy- http://www.thatvideosite.com/video/i_suck_at_modern_warfare_2__a_modern_warfare_2_fail_montage

To clarify, Richard has BY NO MEANS saved his life (HELL, he could barely fight his way out of a wet paper bag), is NO collegiate All-American (he is just a freshman, one day), but personally, is just an off-beat kid if one were to take the time to get to know him. As you read this, you may begin to wonder if I 'hate' this kid, as I borderline tear him apart, or I'm going somewhere with this post. I assure you, it's the latter of the two... Well, 'Probably'.

In case you're still left wondering, ay interest for writing this piece on Richard lies within two different aspects... One being, 'The Mile.'

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THE MILE
On a saturday afternoon, like any other, today Richard was running a mile for 'kicks' in the recreational indoor track, located in the "Huff". Lightly warming up, sporting an U.S.A. jersey (Ironic seeing how he's fluent in Spanish), he lined up. The Huff track is NOT fast by any means. 6 laps to a mile, sure one could say it was oversized, but it surely was not shaped like an ordinary track. as there are 3 soft 90 degree turns, and the 4 turn, being, to what I think 120 degees, and the only turn not energy consuming to go around... This was the track today. It is, what it is.

Stats: Richard's current Mile PR: 4.09. To which, is perhaps on the fastest track in the nation up at Washington.Keep in mind, 40 seconds flat for each lap is 4.00 mile pace on this 6 lap track.
As I held the timer, "On your mark... Set... GO!" Out relatively quick, a smooth stride as he darted past the first turn, going around, to what I call, "Amatuers"... He was 'moving'. At ease, and effortlessly looking, I simply thought, "Well, damn."

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The other aspect, to why I wrote this piece on Richard is simple. We have coinciding ideals and philosophies in terms of running, A LOT alike. As he understands my logic, "Anyone can be a good runner, anyone can be a great runner. I mean, if you got the balls." As he mentioned in my interview with him (And women, in case you're left wondering, it's all about 'tenacity' for you).

Personally, he does the EXACT same thing I do in training. I do not mean the exact same miles, I do not mean drink as much chocolate milk as I do (not possible, btw). I do, however, mean he FULLY believes in what he does, and will proceed to do whatever to get to the next level in his running career. He will take no short cuts. For me, I've went on my crazy spurts, more so for experimentation, of 160 miles per week to test my limits, to which, find what my body best responds to. As I believe to know myself better than anyone else, I know what it takes to get to the next level (check other blog posts to get a more in-depth view).

Well, Richard is the same way, as he may get critiques from a guy here and there, sometimes a bit too often. The kid will continue to stand firm and do what he believes will help him. Perhaps, it's an extra set of abs, perhaps it's light lifting, perhaps is some GNC powder that will 'supposedly' lean his realtively soft runner psyquie up... I fail to notice a difference, Richard... *shifty eyes*.

Perhaps by fate, as this young 8th grader would have it, he encountered an small illness. As he missed a couple football practices, because of this, and the failure of the desk clerk to forward the messages to the football coaches... "Little Chunkster", A.K.A., Ricardo would be benched. As a game passed, and another, and the failure of his hard work to earn his spot back, he quit. No easy task, as his dad, like any other Texan, proceeded to disown Richard for being fat.... Oh... I mean... "For quitting football", ya.. that.

Determined to succeed, Richard ran. Routinely heading out the door, turning up his ipod, and running to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBjEcAPybsE&feature=related and with the sincere thoughts of viewing running now as, "This just may be my thing", running day after day, week after week, losing a pound here, losing a pound there, mile after mile, he ran.

One year later, and to everyone's surprise, "Richard, did you have gastric bi-pass surgery?"--- "Oh... you did not... And you say I'm a jackass for saying that..."

"And now you want my chocolate bar..."
"I don't even have chocolate, Richard!"
" 'Find some', you say..."
"The fat kid inside of you wants chocolate?... Okay, that was weird, but whatever..."

Competing on the next level, especially at this level, is no easy task. The same intensity, day after day, mile after a mile, can wear on a guy. Yet, this kid will stay up on all the little things he believes in, a remedy or two that I will question, yet, think... "Not a bad idea... NOT A BAD IDEA AT ALL!" To give due credit, the kid has exceeded expectations, yet feels he's on a curve. Always trying to make up a gap, and catch the next person ahead of him, I can not help but blurt out when he told me this, "MEEE TOOOO!!!!!!"

Growing up, a relatively chunky 8th grader, who weighed the same as he does now... Did I tell you he was a foot shorter than he is now? Well, that was Richard as an 8th grader. My first thoughts to seeing an 8th grade picture of him, "WHO IS THAT KID, AND WHY DID HE EAT YOU?!"

Richard, as a means to get in shape for football, participated in cross country in 8th grade and proceeded to use the training involved as condtioning for football. Although, an unheard of thing for football players, this kid did what he believed would help him advance as a football player. As his mindset continues to hold true to this very day.

In case you've seen this video, and contrary to popular belief, this is NOT Richard- (only first 30 seconds need to viewed to get the 'point'.)
http://www.thatvideosite.com/video/you_do_not_get_between_this_man_and_his_cheeseburger
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As 1/3 of the lap, is unseen being blocked by rather large wall, I stayed glued to my watch awaiting from him to dart around the turn... 30... 31... 32... 33... 34... and there was Richard... 38... 39... 40... "You're 39 high for that lap!"

So much for running a 4.20 paced mile, as was the original plan.
I began to speculate, "How long will this last?" This track blows, let's be honest. And by no means, am I a pessimist. As he continue to glide forth, crew cut, black spandex and all, 76...77... 78... 79... 80... "You're 80 flat at two laps!.... 4.00 mile pace!"

My thoughts, "He's going for it now... HELL... who wouldn't?!"
Beginning to show 'some' signs, He cruised by the 3rd lap, in which, posting a 2.03 (1/2 mile marker). My thoughts, "That son of a bit... 'gun' is still hanging on!"

My thoughts, "GO FOR THE HUFF INDOOR TRACK RECORD!!!" To tell you the truth, I highly doubt anyone's ran 4.30 on it, nor tried to even with the capability to do so.

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As the new and improved Richard entering 9th grade, and now placing top 3 in most of the freshman races he entered, as Texas is notoriously competitive in just about everything. One could certainly say, "Not bad... Not half bad at all for a year of training!"

As the stage had been set, Richard set out year after year of his high school career to become, "A runner." And it doesn't take a very knowledgeable person that knows Richard, to know, if he's going to do something, "Damn, he's going to do it right!" By senior year, and an all-around recruitable athlete, having grades, a studly 4.12 mile to his name, and some other b.s. that includes those pricks of the high school, A.K.A. student council... I mean... The students who help serve our high school...

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As people were walking, and trotting along on the track, others gathering along the railing that withheld the track... people were gaining notice. As the basketball courts located down below, and it's inhabitants, known as baller's, stopped their pick-up games, and looked upward, onto the indoor track. As this kid was balls to the wall, and well, 'GOING FOR IT!" I figured it was only a matter of time before people started chanting his name. To my surprise, I was the only one.
As he swung by the 4 lap, and STILL maintaining pace, this was a moment. As we all like watching the feel good movies, when the dork get's the girl, when the sucky team finds a way to win against the best team in the league, when the evil axis of power is taken down by an unlikely foe... We all KNOW. We know that the dork, although good intention as he is NEVER gets the girl (Seriously, do you think this guy got his girl back? http://www.thatvideosite.com/video/if_she_doesnt_take_him_back_after_this ... EXACTLY) . And we know, once a sucky team, always a sucky team, evil axis... smeathil axis, it better be a damn good super hero or it ain't going to happen.... BUT for this instance in time, this was one of the 'moments' that defied the norm, as the kid from Texas was on a quest....

5 laps- And STILL on good pace, "RUN RUN RUN!!!"

Now becoming bit lactic, tying up, as Richard pushed forward. Not faultering in the quest at at hand, Richard would not be denied at a chance at GLORY.

Swing down the back stretch, I watched him disappear behind the wall... waiting... and waiting for him to appear for the final 50 meters where I could see him.... 4.00... 4.01... 4.02... 4.03... And like that, swinging around the turn... stride by stride.. he was closing... 4.08... 4.09... 4.10... 4.11... 4.12... YOU RAN 4.12!!! As I screamed HUFF MILE RECORD! People were not only celebrating around me, people were popping champagne! Crowd erupting, it was unreal.

OKAY... Okay, it didn't go quite like that. I was yelling like an idiot though!... And Ricardo did run 4.12 on a very mediocre track... alone. Legitimately, "Impressive" to say the least.

Afterwards, and Richard proclaiming, "I will never do that again, for 'obvious' reasons."

And so have it... a new Mile record at the Huff.

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Odd as you may think, I know what you're thinking, Richard does have a dog... thing's just like him about food... - http://www.thatvideosite.com/video/dog_does_crazy_food_dance

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As the interview is coming to a close, I proceed to ask Richard my last question, being primarily an important one, "Richard, what's your stance on...." Interrupted by Richard, with him raising his voice....
"Oh, what is my position on the role of government in supporting innovation in the field of biotechnology you ask?"

I begin to mutter out, "Well, actually..." Interrupted again.... by none other than Richard...

Without hesitation Richard spouts, "Recent research has shown that empirical evidence for globalization of corporate innovation is very limited and as a corollary the market for technologies is shrinking. As a world leader, it's important for America to provide systematic research grants for our scientists. I believe strongly there will always be a need for us to have a well articulated innovation policy with emphasis on human resource development. BOOM and Thank you!"
As he sit there, non-chalantly smiling back, with a perceived confident demeanor...
My left eyebrow raised, straight lipped, look of bafflement... as a long pause of seconds, turns into a few minutes of erie quiteness... Alls I can say is, "Well, actually Richard... NEVERMIND... I think that pretty much wraps up my interview... I have enough.

-clay j. mayes 3rd

The Mile.

2011-02-17T02:21:00.007-06:00

"The Mile"

It has been the talk of track and field since it's beginning. Why? Well, honestly, I'm not sure. Perhaps, due to the simplicity of it, 4 laps around the track, "not too long, not too short," it is THE event. And people love it. Even common folk will implore upon other 'common folk'... "What's your mile time?"

I 'implore' to you, "What's yours?"

"You're not a Miler?"

It doesn't matter, because that's the limitations of what non-runners know. You might as well get used to it.

For me, this event has never been my strong suit. As I was made for the marathon.... 26.2 miles of racing. Did I tell you how lucky I was? "Lucky," my friend... Lucky indeed. Shi... I mean...shoot! (Am I talking to myself again? Outl oud you say? No, I'm not crazy... I'm normal....
....
...
..ish)

As my past trianing, when healthy, was 140+ mile weeks... It was obvious what I was made for. Working the streets.

"Wait, what?!"

But as life would have it, plans change. I got hurt, "cry me a river."

In case you haven't noticed, I'm different. For what that's worth, a good or a bad is besides the point, but rather, I never like to follow the norm, NEVER. I set my own path and make my own decisions. I know the marathon will be my future in running, but during my injury I played with a thought, "The Mile." The question that came about, "How fast could I go with 2 and a half months of cross training, and only 5 ample weeks of running?" That being, a simple race at home, on the indoor OU track. No races to sharpen up, a simple 200 meter, notoriously slow and impossible to run fast on. Why? Because it's green and the turns are really tight... And it's GREEN... Did I mention that?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fge5ufo9CDY Deekie.

11 weeks to the Mile:

CUE MUSIC: Right click, and listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ioE_O7Lm0I4

I began lifting, as my weight skyrocketed up to 144 pounds... 'of muslce'. Only 21 pounds above my racing weight when I ran my 5k pr in California. As I documented my comeback... Well, not really. I just have a bunch of yellow post-its, that I wrote stuff on, like, "Today I ate four donuts, two chocolate bars. Oh, and lifted for 20 minutes"--- "Today I watched 3 hours of cartoons and did crunches in-between the commercials," one post-it just had doodles on it, a smudge of what appears to be jelly, and a sketch of a cheetah. I must say, VERY cool.

Oh, and let's not leave out one post-it, to which, I believe I wrote after one of my sugar highs, "I love chick flicks".... KIDDING! Seriously... I'm kidding.

But seriously.

9 Weeks to the Mile:

As I was able to inlcude biking, I did 'stoopid fast' intervals on it, as to ignite the fast twitch fibers. Techno cranked up, pouring sweat, heart pounding upwards to 190+ beats per minute at times (try getting your heart-rate up that high). To explain such a high heartrate on the bike... Either 1.) I'm pushing overly hard or 2.) My heart doesn't beat on pattern, to which explains my abnormalities... probably a mixture of both. You're abnormal!

All and all, this was the plan. As I had the mile in the back of my head, it was drawing closer. As people, teammates, friends, and the random squirrel I'd talk to on campus began to wonder if I was joking or not about racing the mile. No one would know for sure, except me. Little do they know... not even I knew... "know?"

"Wait, what?!"

www.youtube.com/watch?v=xaPepCVepCg&feature=relmfu All animals like to socialize, proof.
5 Weeks to the Mile:

I would not stop there. Finally okay'd and allowed to run, I was able to do one thing to similate speed work for a mile, Hill repeats. Since there is not the same amount of pounding put forth if done on a treadmill at an incline. Basically, preventing the normal pounding on legs from speedwork... I did this. To add, it was a way to ensure I wouldn't get hurt again, and to be 'oober' careful with my leg.

What, you're not impressed?

Well, go to your local gym and put the treadmill at 12.5 m.p.h.'s. 1.) And foremost, most gym treadmills will only go 10 m.p.h. *clear thoat* And 2.) You will look like an idiot when you do this. 3.) Put the incline at 7.5% as well. And 4.) You will look like a Jackass when you do this. 5.) Do this 10x45 seconds, with a minute rest in-between.

In a nutshell, that's what I did. I not only looked cool, but was cool. As people pointed out, and were most likely saying, "Wow, look at that kid go! He is SO neat!" As girls wanted to date me, and guys wanted to be me. In reality, the onlookers probably thought(s)....

"What the hell is he doing?"

"Is he wearing a fanny pack?"

"Why is he sporting a blue bandana?!"

Okay, First off! I was NOT wearing a fanny pack. It was a "fuel belt."

Btw, I was joking and NOT actually wearing a fuel belt.

But seriously.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NCjjf8a1WYY Super Squirrel: Now Super Heroes.

2 1/2 Weeks to the Mile:

As I repeated the hill repeat workouts every 2-3 days, it was not long before I could do some actual speedwork, "200 meter repeats." As they say, "Do work."

Problem: "Blizzard".

No problem: Indoor track.

Problem: Tight turns.

No problem: Sucked it up.

Finished with workout...

Problem: shins and joints hurt from tight turns.

No problem: Shit load of Advil Gel.

Problem: Took too much Advil Gel, going to hurl.

No problem: Handled it like a champ!

I was joking about hurling.

But seriously.

As the joke of racing the mile is becoming more and more uncertain than it was from the start, the race I marked on the calender is drawing closer. That being said, -OU INDOOR MEET - FEBRUARY 19TH-

Some of my teammates are more optimistic than I orginally thought would be. That and I was now a solid 132 pounds to my previous 144... a.k.a. "Chizzled"... Battled, hardened from miles and determination put forth, to achieve the task at hand... Obtaining a DAMN good Mile.

Everyone writes their own future, I just happen to be a more creative writer than your average Joe.

2 1/2 Days till the Mile:

To be written,

As planned...

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

Stats on the OU mosier indoor track, 200 meter, tight turns and the facility record is 4.09.91 - Held by- Jordan Powell - This is a shout out to you, Jordan! Surprisingly, there's been a lot of legit guys 'try' to run fast(er) there, but have NOT been able to do it. Perhaps a bad day, perhaps just a tough place to run fast. Powell is now the man to beat...

"Am I racing it?"

To be continued: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GvQkl7qa6RQ

Last, but certainly, not least:

I have a good friend/runner I used to coach who is an up-and-coming runner in college.... To be a 14.10 5k guy and faster before his college career is over. That being said, checkout his blog! -

http://wwwmentallytough.blogspot.com/?spref=fb

Small World, the Running World

2011-01-27T00:56:00.003-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRBVh8ZPUyg Seriously, who is stupid enough to mess with a squirrel, things are FEARLESS.

Okay, so a lot has happened recently in the past 3 1/2 months.

Let's start from the beginning, October 16th, 2010... After running one race to make some miraculous comeback, and not succeeding, as I couldn't run on pattern or a rhythm that requires good runners, to be, well, "Good". To what I thought, was because I wasn't fully healed from a torn hip flexor I endured last July. Perhaps, the muscles didn't heal properly, and I needed to continue therapy on breaking up scar tissue in the area... like what I was currently doing.

After the race, to which, was perhaps the worst race of my collegiate career... I heard many things. One was, "You just don't look at smooth as you used to". Which stuck out to me, because of how much therapy I was going through trying to break up, to what I thought, was this "scar tissue".

I hear from the grapevine of one more therapy I can try, a PRP injection. Were one's blood is removed from and it is somehow fused. Basically, platelets are separated from the blood that is taken to create a higher concentration of the "good stuff" that's suppose to help the injured area once it's re-injected into the injury...a.k.a.- my injury. End result: Super speed recovery in the damaged area.

To make sure the shot was to be injected properly, an MRI needed to be done, to which, find the exact damage area. Basically, making sure the injection would be properly done. As to how my life goes, I hear these shots are EXTREMELY painful. "Story of my Life".

After the MRI, in which, I went back to my Doc. to talk over the PRP to be injection... I heard different results from what was expected. As he walked in and threw up a scan of my femur. You know what this is, as he pointed to a glowing white ball-like spot on the top of my femur...

"Sadly, ya... The white ball-like spot means there's a break in the bone. Except it's not a typical line break..."

Doc: "You would be right, and it IS a very abnormal break. You may even have to get screws put in if you ever want to run again."

Me: "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

After no running or activity for a month, the doctors at OU took some more scans and believed it would heal on it's own, as "It already shows good bone growth in the current recovery proceess". So, let it be. Day by day, week by week, I let it heal. Later being allowed to do a little running on our underwater tredmill, then later being able to bike in addition.

Background music, please right click and turn up your volume, as this adds character to the story: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRzHxR3JCTw

2007 Deseret News 10k road race that features some of the best 19 and under kids in the country. As the race is held, to what it seems, 3 in the morning... Okay, it's more like 4 in the morning, I warm-up, "Excited".

I have always been infamously known for doing road races. Racing half marathons as an 8th grade to doubling, sometimes tripling back to back doing the local 5k road races each weekend on a friday and saturday. Week after week, I NEVER got tired of doing road races, contrary to all the normal critics, and how it would lead to my burn out of running. Till this day, I still have a deep enthusiasm for doing them... Partly do to the relax, yet, competitive nature of road racing, and certainly because of all the people I have met participating in them. Honestly, the local Tulsa road racing community, is a really good group of people. It may sound odd saying that to some, but I learned A LOT from some really good Elite master runner's Tulsa's known for.

As I laced up my flats and did a few shake-out strides, "I was ready". Accompanied by one stellar runner/friend from Oklahoma, we lined up. Being who I am, I can't focus on too many things at once, as my friend was trying to tell me "That kid right there in the blue jersey, Jared Ward, has a great kick", as my friend battled him in the final straight-a-way at a the famous Arcadia 3200m track meet out in Arcadia, California. My response, "Ya ya, I'm not worried"- I would later come to meet these words again... so, let it be...

Mid-December- As I yelled to our trainer "CRANK UP SPEED!" Gliding along on OU's underwater treadmill, come to find out that thing couldn't go any faster, as our trainer said, "HA, you maxed out the speed." As one could hear the loud humming created from the "power" being put forth by my new favortie cross training activity... "Underwater Tredmill Running". As I said back, "That's fine... put the jet resistance at 100% then!"

Our trainer laughed, "Alright... We'll see if you can handle it."

As I grew solemn with words, gliding along, already thinking, "Shi.... I mean, 'fiddle-sticks'...this is too much..."

Our trainer, "Ha, a little too much for you... You're not saying much."

Me: "What are you talking about, I feel GREAT! This is perfect... PERFECT!", as I said that with a fake smile. My thoughts as he left the room, in which, he thought I was good to go for the next 59 minutes... "I'm going to drown. To add, and sadly, this thing is like a coffin... made of water... great... PERFECT!!!"

As my heart pounded, a few beads of sweat forming on my forehead, I stayed focused on the task at hand... Not to die from drowing, literally. The jets pushing me close to the back-end of the box-like structure of water that withheld the tredmill... I continue to hammer, as my ego would fail to admit I was wrong in telling our trainer, "Crank up the jets all the way, Homie G-Dawg." Did I tell you I have a weird sense of humor? Because... I don't...

AGAIN: Who is dumb enough to mess with squirrels... watch out, or they'll come for you NEXT! - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=juNfEuqdWig&feature=fvw

Gun goes off, and I settle in a very brisk pace at the Deseret News 10k.

A small pack of 5 guys forms, and to what I believe to contain this, 'Jared Ward'. My reasoning as to why I thought this, was well... after hearing for 2 straight miles the words and shouts, "Go Jared!", "You can do it, Jared!", "Jared, will you marry me!?'... Common sense kicked in... "This was Jared". So be it.

We come across 2 miles in 9.18, as it was the fast downhill segment of the course, but let's not forget, still 'pretty' fast regardless. I knew it then, you know it now... the WALL was coming..... So, be it...

Last Saturday in December- As a friend of mine, just coming off injury himself is riding the stationary bike right beside me, pipes up, being a previous "deec cyclist" himself, "Hey Clay, your RPM's/speed is ridiculously high (140/30 m.p.h. or so at the at moment), you need more resistance... just sayin... Buddy'".

After looking over and examining the situation as a whole, me being the smart guy I am. Well, mostly the sarcastic prick I can be at times, and factoring in how well I adapted to being a decent cyclist from all the cross training I had been currently doing, "Hey... man, first thing, I'm at Level 5 resistence..." Him, "Oh..." and before he could say anything else, as he clicked along at a weak 105 RPM's at the time, I chirped back, "Nice work, I mean, you being on Level 1 resistance and all... Buddy"

*A several second pause*

Him: "Dude, you've gotten pretty damn good at this biking thing."

4 miles in, and the group now down to just two, and having trouble shaking, "You know who". As I heard from the first time on the course... "GO CLAY!!!" from a friend... 'a girl'.... Hmmm... I wonder if she reads my blog...

BUT ANYWAYS... Inspired, I proceeded to throw in a surge soon after, and to be honest, not the smartest thing... considering we are now done with the downhill portions of the course, and the race is held at 5000 feet altitude, CLASSIC move by my part. CLASSIC!!!

Starting the second week of January I am now able to do the stair climber at my local gym. To which, is basically running up hill... CONSTANTLY. After not too much practice at all, pouring sweat as my white-T is soaked, techno music coursing through my veins, I recorded the highest score in my gym... "Yes, there is such a thing..." That baby goes up to 28 levels. Crazy to have all those levels, right?!

TWO DAYS LATER: I am scheduled to go take scans and find out once and for all if my femur is healed. As I lay on a narrow bed-like structure, it proceeds to hum at an unnatural speed of 0.5 miles per hour. As I go into a tunnel like structure that I am TOTALLY encompased in.... FOR 30 MINUTES *clear throat* Did I tell you I'm ridiculously claustrophobic? So bad, I would take out in 60 flat in high school races in the mile (occasionally the 2 mile if I had the Gonads that day), not to get out, nor was I practicing stupid running tactics of a typical high school runner... "No." Because I couldn't stand other runners being beside me, boxing me in. Simply because, I freak out being so claustrobic... "and all". *Clear throat* Did I tell you I'm weird? Because... I'm not...

As I lay in the lobby after the scans, knocked out and sleeping, for what I was later told by my lovely friends that came with me, for a 'solid' 90 minutes (I was traumatized and all from being stuffed in that devil like structure)... The radiologists, is that what they're called? Well, NOW they are, comes into the lobby, "Mr. Mayes here are your scans". As I am handed my scans half-asleep, "Finally", the answer lies within these pictures... to bad I can't tell what any of them mean.

ONE WEEK LATER... Ya, "That long", I meet with my Athletic Doctor, as he reviews the scans. To what seems like an hour pause... "Clay, you made a full recovery. Your femur is fully healed, to the point, there's extra bone growth around it than originally."

As I hear those words, I held back a big smile... "Ah heck, I smiled." haha.

"That's awesome!"

As I look around for the 5 mile mark, it is no where to be seen... "Where is it?!" I check my watch, and figure out, I must have missed it. As, to what I think, I'm roughly 5 and a half miles in... I hit it. What is it, it being, THE WALL. Currently, several seconds ahead of "Mr." Ward, I gut it out the best I could. As my breathing thickens, to a point, I feel like I'm going to hyperventalate, my thoughts, "God bless altitude..."... What do you mean that couldn't have been my thoughts? Well... "It was..."

I continue forth, as the race is drawing to a close with each stride.

As the last straight-a-way comes about, and ya, "Here he comes", Ward has pulled up beside me, and to what I later learn, it being his coach, yells out, "Go now!"

Honestly, there was NO chance. As I pushed forth with everything I had, I could not outkick him... nor had a living chance. I mean, it's not like someone warned me he had a kick...

One week into it, I am now running again. I'm just a tad overweight (half-joke), as I am clicking off a handful of miles these past several days. My form is smooth again, and it just feels good to run again.

Although.... Indoor season is not over... and something tells me the mile would be an interesting go...

As the race is over, I talk to the famous Jared Ward. "Hey man, when are you racing again?"

Him, "It'll be a few years."

Me: What!? We have to race again, haha (I was 'half'-serious, I mean... who wants to end on that note)

Him: "I will be going to BYU when I get back from my mission, and then, and certainly then... we can race."

So, I waited...

As the years went by, 3 and a half to be exact, and lost hope of ever having a rematch and currently on crutches, as this was a few months ago. A teammate of mine says to me, well, before I tell you what he says, 'BACKSTORY". My teammate also ran in that race, not the one that went with me, and yes, I know what you're thinking, "Small world", Oh, I know! As he knows of the rivalry and my hope of getting a rematch verse Ward... and my teammate says out of the complete blue, "CLAY... he's back!..."

My head turned, as to say, "Well, go on... say it..."

As my teammate said, "Jared Ward ran some cross races for BYU this year.. he's back. You need to get back into it..."

A new motivation is put forth and to what inspired me to cross train as hard as I did, I look forward to a rematch. I'm not quite like the runner I was, but 2012, Payton Jordan Invite. Pal Alto, California... 5000m or 10000m, your choice Ward... We're racing.

A big point to this post is to prove how small the running world truly is. It's always interesting to find out how you know some people, or how you meet again one day. I could go on and on detailing different stories, but to prove a point... I would like someone to forward this blog post to Jared... and if possible, Jared email me at mud.mayes@gmail.com (or Facebook works)... Best of luck with your training to come, sincerely.

I would also like to say, I have a big-time crush on Angela Bizzari. So, if anyone is so kind to talk me up to her... Do so.... I'm a great guy!... *clear throat* joking... but seriously my email is above ;)

Hope no one takes this out of context, Jared... I think you're the man.

Last thing- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_sfnQDr1-o

-clay j mayes the 3rd

RIVALRIES AND EGOS

2010-11-15T00:38:00.004-06:00

It's been a while: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eC1dM_s2js&feature=related

Right click: this will be your background music... DO IT!!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zdNdjF-htY&feature=related

The sports world needs rivalries. Some rivalries may be friendly, some may be cut throat and vicsious. Regardless, it is rivalires that fuel the sports world. This occurs on the professional level, all the way down to the lowest level... 'golf', joking... mostly.

As I've had a 9 year long running career, I've encountered a few rivalries. Most them have been just something I've created in my own head, but one rivalry was quite evident to many. As a young freshman, I was pertty cocky, "still am". Not outright and noticeable to anyone I talked to, but to me, I felt I deserved to win any race I ran. "I worked harder, why not?!" Unfortunatly, it does NOT work that way.

As I competed against small school classification kids, this mindset was reinforced when I raced. "Yes", I won the majority of my races, again... "small school classification kids". All this fueling my ego, as does most athletes having a rather large ego in tact. If oneself does not think they're better than the other guy, then one certainly isn't going to 'foam at the mouth' to beat the guy next to him. A big ego is crucial to have in being competitive in sports. How one conceals it, is another thing.
Regardless, let's get to the point! After pulling a rabbit out of my hat freshman year at pre-state, I won going from 21st at 1k to 1st by 4k and then holding on. A very calculated and executed race to the T to pull off the win, but none the less, "It happened". As Sophomore year came about, a much stronger runner, I won pre-state yet again. Althouh it was a close battle coming down to the homestretch. As my junior year came, I was a new runner. I wasn't 'half-bad', in which, at that pre-state race of my junior year. I pulled away early, as I stomped the field, and won in a very convincing 47 seconds. "No Sweat".

Let me tell you, "He was in the race". "Yes", the same race I won by 47 seconds. Who's "He?", you will later learn. Keep reading.

As state came around, I proceeded to do my typical crash and burn from allergies, and 'more excuses galore' and so forth. As I ran into a spectactor and just being a bag full of problems that day at xc state my junior year, "He" beat me there.

So, "Let it Begin!"

Limping through track, I made my way. Eventually getting to mid-summer, I started to roll in my training. As I entered my senior season, I felt I would not be challenged, ever. Again, let me re-instate the point all driven athletes have ego's when it comes to their sport. It is not a questionable thing... it is a must to compete in the sports world around us. A MUST!

As it was 95 degrees and early October of my senior year, and at a meet two weeks out before pre-state... You know, "My" pre-state, I have won it 3 years in a row! And "Yes", 95 degrees is seasonably warm. The second, "so-called fastest kid in the state/A big school classification runner" was there (this included all the classifications in the state of Oklahoma). As this race also inlcuded, "Him/He" as well. But let's be honest, I was more worried about the big school kid, who was 'famous' for having a great kick. As he would classically do the 'sit and kick' method against runners like me. So I thought, "Fine... I'll make a show out of it today". As the race went off, so did I. Coming through the 800m in a brisk 2.20, I continued to push. As Mr. Big school kid sat on my shoulder, we continued to glide along. My thoughts, "It's cool".

I proceeded to speed up, no worries, it is only a 5k after all...

Coming through the mile in 4.37 and the screaming words from his coach, "HE'S GOING TO BLOW YOU UP, BACK OFF... BACK OFF!!!"

And let me tell you, as a scrawny 116 lb kid at the time, that was the plan. And I did.

As we rolled along and only a 1/4 mile later, I would run alone. No longer hearing the footsteps behind me, I pushed on. Knowingly, the wall was coming, I did only have a 4.29 mile pr at the team. And in some sense, I was all for it. Well, so long as I didn't hit it first. Hearing the screams for my competitor, as his fellow teammates and cheer group yelled along the course, in which, he lagged just beyind. Yelling came in all directions, "IS THERE REALLY PEOPLE IN THE TREES CHEERING/YELLING TOO?!"
Just as I stared the last lap, consisting of a 2k, and no longer hearing my competitors named shouted, and seeing that of only solomn faces as I darted along turns, chopping around the turns, I tried hard to hold off my trademark smirk... well... the best I could.

And perhaps, this race was a bit too much for my ego.

Blog break!!!: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFubzSu2AOE&feature=related

Winning the race was only a simple matter of pride, as it held no real value. And "No" I did not forget, about the kid, who shall be known thus far into the story as "He", in which, "He" got 3rd place in the race... almost a womping minute behind. As "He" would be at my pre-state meet in just a week. Nor, did I even question being challenege by him, to me, this was going to be a massacre.

Training through, to the point, the warmup at pre-state was "rough", I did not care. I wouldn't need to be at the top of my game anyways.

With the simple sound of the gun, "BANG", the race was underway as 200 hundred kids battled and jostled for positioning. As it immediately became evident in the race "He" was out front, and not only was he out front, but he was 'way' out front. My thoughts, "He'll come back, they always do."

Please right click and make this your background music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7uDMw9kpRWg

Did I tell you 'his' school was across the street? Well, it was.

A little before the mile, and a good gap behind, people were yelling as if the race was already over. As I trudged along the course, legs heavy, a slight sense of panic amongst my heavy breathing. I began to wonder if I was going to catch him, as he did not hesistate and dropped the hammer from the get-go. Swinging around a large Oak tree, just beyond the mile mark, I began panic. Screaming to my left, screaming to my right, people were going crazy. And so I began to.
As all fans know, Cross country really does bring out quite an enthused and energetic crowd of people. God knows why people get so into it. Perhaps, witnessing the looks of death amongst the runners, as each, whether fit, fat, or being forced to run for their school, each kid would ran hard regardless of the circumstances. As I said, "Everyone has an ego when it comes to sports". Regardless, people LOVE it when they get to witness this sport known as cross country. Hearing people tell me, "Watching cross country is like crack for their eyes"... That being said, I also began to wonder where these people come from...

As I can no longer take it, and aisde from feeling like death, I surged. Closing the 30 yard some gap quickly, I couldn't take not being in the lead! As I pulled up aside from competitor, who kept an intense focused look, he was unphased. My thoughts, "Huh". Hurting from the surge, I did not care. As we just passed the 2k, I pushed forward. I wanted the lead, I needed the lead, I WAS SUPPOSE TO LEAD! As I took the lead, my thoughts, "Anytime now, he should be falling off".

Well, in actuality, he proceeded to take the lead immediately back and put forth his own surge. As I begin hating my existance, people screaming for my rivil, chanting "YOU GOT HIM!!! YOU GOT HIM!!!" As if to say, the race was over. It seemed like there was an ongoing theme here. Let me tell you, people really aren't afraid to insult your own physical ability in the sport known as cross country. I mean, if you have a wound, people will pour salt in it, and proceed to insult your good-hearted mother in the process... Pressure can build from this atmosphere, trust me.

As we both continued to stick to each other, neither of our egos giving in, switching off leads, surge after surge, neither of us broke. As we came upon the finishing straight, along the starting line, in which, was the last 1 mile loop of the course, we were completely in the crowds eyes for almost all of the last 2k. Knowing people were going to see this, I panic... again. Re-surging to take the lead, legs dead, eyes rolling to the back of my head, I would not let this happen... I WON'T!!! Taking back the lead, to which, I thought was rightfully mine. I thought I can now pull away now. As we passed right by the finish line, to start the last 1 mile loop, we circled around up an infamous hill. The same hill I broke away my freshman and sophomore year to win this race in an surprising upset, this was my hill!

You know what? History did not repeat itself, as my rival began his own surge up the hill, and not only took the lead, but opened up a gap. People began jumping up and down, as they were going crazy, in which, one cocky kid from no-where Oklahoma was falling off... "Awesome". As the gap grew to 5 yards... to 10 yards, and then opening up to 20 yards... It was becoming quite evident who was controlling the race. As I still loosely held on, form beganning to faulter, as I broke down... I couldn't help, but take notice of everything. How well my season was going up till then, how important this race was to me, after all I won it the past 3 years, and now people critiqueing (screaming/taunting) my own self worth. As my blood boiled, shooting to the tips of my fingertips, my teeth gritting... "No, it's not over!" As one coach yelled to my rival when he was cresting a small hill, "HE'S fallen off! Just like that, I made a push... "Looks like someone spoke to soon"...

As we were going into the trees, only to be hidden for 200 meters, and then coming out of the woods, to an open 1/2 mile straight to the finish... I began to reel my competitor back in. And let me tell you how much I regretted giving him every little inch I gave him at that point. My body ached, arms, legs, and even my back felt chocked full of lactic acid, as I weezled my way back up to my rival, I was determined.

Finally closing the gap, to the extent, I was just a few yards checked off him... I began to plot my move. This was a hard enough task, as 1.) I felt like crap. 2.) He was famous for splitting 51 in the 400m 3.) I was infamous for a lack of having a kick. 4.) Barbara Streison is a no talent ass clown!

As I quickly decided, I would make the move/the push 400 meters out. As it was right at the point, were the runners go up a really steep incline onto the road, in which, we crossed it, and then proceed to drop 10 yards down a decline, this is where I would get my momentum for "The Kick". As we were coming up onto the road, blood boilding, adrenline pumping for one last hoorah... charging up the incline, striding over the road, and throwing myself in a downward push of momentum coming off the decline... I shot out

And so the real race begun.

As I darted past my competitor, noticing his eyes immediately opening up in shock (his thoughts: "HE'S BACK?!), I did not hesitate. I charge forth with all my might, feeding off the momentum I gained, I would not be denied a win without an honest fight! I WOULD NOT!

Quickly realizing how far kicking out from 400 meters is, "It hurt".

300 meters left, still holding on, grimacing, eyes closed, arms, legs driving forward.

200 meters out, "WHERE IS HE?!"

100 meters out, people jumping up and down, others holding their hands over their mouths in aspirations of who would win this death match, two runners continued to volley for that front spot as we closed down the last bits of the course.

As I glanced at the ground, using my rival's own shadow to guage how close he was, I continued to dig. A shadow approaching, my fists clinched, and as I continued to hold my form together... well, the best I could...

And as the last steps towards the finish line were just strides away....

I watch my opponents shadow disappear... a sense, a euphoria overwhelmed me, as I held my head high coming acroos the line. Exhilarated by my win, there was no denying what hit me next... as it was the ground when I came crashing down from exhaustion. As it felt like I was dying, I did not care. To me and my ego, it would be a much better path than losing a race.

What happened when I recovered? Well, I asked my rival to join me in training (as others wondered why in the damn pickens hell, "I asked" my competition to train with me, to which, I gave a simple response, "Let the best man win". As that winter came along, we became good friends as we trained together and proceeded to represent our track club quite well.

My conclusion:

A lesson can be learned from this.

ALSO: I WILL MAKE ANOTHER BLOG POST IN THE NEXT WEEK AND GIVE EXTENSIVE DETAIL OF WHAT'S GOING ON. AS I ALWAYS SAY, "IT'S A LONG STORY".

Comeback kid

2010-09-24T22:06:00.001-05:00

Okay, long story short, I have been guilted into making yet another post.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TL1uFjSbvnA

That being said, "Update."

As it's late, I refuse to say how late it actually was, let's just say... ' it's late.' Regardless, I'm back to running. Here I am, enclosed in a rather large building that contained the turf indoor football field, as I glide along. As I'm chopping along, a little heavy breathing from being a bit out of shape, a small, yet still noticeable twitch in my running stride, sweat continuing to build, as I 'only' sported yellow running shorts (I know right?! ;), as I continued to stide along. As my bare feet stuck the turf, "digging" into the mounded up rubber, topped with a layer of synthetic grass, and the simple "BEEP BEEP BEEP'ing" sound of my watch, my stride opened up as I transgress into a more uptempo pace. Hardly back to my old form, metaphorically, and to some extent, litterally, I'm not bothered by being 'fat'.

Background music: please right click and add into an extra tab! thank you and have a nice day! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kb0Y7WKETbs

"BEEP BEEP BEEP," as I now regress back to my short and choppier stride, to which, I obviously slowed it back down. I am doing what is known to runners as a "Fartlek." Simply because it is easy on my hip flexor, because I don't have to stop and start repeatedly like I do in intervals. Today's fartlek was relatively simple, 14x60 seconds at an uptempo pace, and a 60 second jog in-between. Hardly anything like what I used to do, it was a start.

I probably should start from the first day of practice, to let you know my current mindset, rather than let you 'guesstimate' how i felt. So, as the first day, to which is also known as, "Gear day"... a.k.a. "Christmas for us runners in college," thousands of dollars of gear is given out to each runner/person, some specifically made from Nike given to the OU runners. As I gather up all my gear, I realize something's missing...Cross country spikes.

As I mention it, as well as a few other guys missing 'this or that,' they say, "What model of spikes do you want? We'll order them now."

"Actually, it doesn't matter, I won't be racing till indoor..." nor was I running at that current time. Due to injury, I was unbothered, so I acted at the time. Ironically, that same day, an old friend called, that was also in the Big 12 conference meet, and was asking when they were going to be able to see me. As they knew about my current situation, intially thinking they would not see me, "Wait a minute!... You're going to come 'watch' Big 12's right?!" A bit, "Oh ya, I'm not going to be able run it" thought crosess my mind, as I chime back, "No way I'm missing that!"

As a week or so passes, and by the grace of god... AND the 'fun' therapy I mentioned in my last post... I was able to get back into running.

A couple weeks later, and trying to make... what I'd like to call a comeback, and my hopes that were intially thoughts of only failure, turned into hopes of "what if's."

As the 10th repition of my uptempo fartlek workout comes about, my breathing picks up, as does my stride. As the janitor comes onto the indoor turf field through the doors, in which, were combined with the complex... I darted by him unphased as he spoke up, "Hey buddy! As usual... make sure the doors are locked when you're heading out, no rush though!"

As I gathered myself and the energy required, I yelled back, "Ya, no problem!.... Preciate it!" This was now becoming a routine from the past 9 days of running.

As I see through the clear doors, the lights are now all turned out from all directions, as the dim lights from the indoor football field are the only thing guiding me along, step after step, minute after minute, lap after lap, I pushed forward. As this continued, I forgot how good it felt to hurt. Odd... I know. Whether it's an addition to pain, or a simple love of knowing that I'm doing "something" with my current day to day life to which, I'd like to say I'm moving forward in, regardless, I was comforted by hurting.

As I am now in the cooldown phase, trotting a couple miles to shake out the junk from the uptempo workout, well... 'That felt good.' Not only did I think that, I litterally said that out loud, and "Yes," I will remind you, I was by myself. And Yes, I know... I'm too cool sometimes.

As I now relax my thoughts, and drop the intense mindset that accompanies every good runner during a workout, I think of my current day. Well, heck... I'll tell you! As I awake that morning, at a ridiculous early time of 11 a.m. I make my way through my daily errands. First getting back to all the jackass'... I mean, "friends" that texted me so freaking early, "Caleb, I'm talking about you." SERIOUSLY YOU TEXTED ME AT 9 A.M., TO TELL ME YOU TALKED TO A GIRL?... AND SHE WAS ONLY A 7?!"..... "AND NO," I won't forget about you Nicole, who has to tell me, "She has shin splints and needs my advice"... Nicole, you're a freaking doctor, literally. I am a punk ass kid who makes straight C's in college. Do you really want my advice?!

Let's not forget Sara, who tells me happy birthday, let's just say, "Sara's not all there... bless her heart..."

DAMN IT!!!

Okay, I was just joking about that... perhaps.

As I walk over to the training room to do drills, I now have a new friend. A trainer... to which, I tell her all the team gossip... "ALL OF IT." As her eyes light up, wondering what soap opera related stuff happened within the past day, she shares her thoughts... after she hears everything she wants. "Ya Clay, if you really like K.W.'s mom, and seeing how she made a pass at you... You should go for it!"... "Also, (name) they'll come around!"

Well thanks, "trainer's name."

As the day passes, and dinner comes about, I enter the cafe, which is dominated by a lot of athletes. I hand the cashier my money, and with the non-chalant words in addition, "Here's my drug money"... A bit baffled, and odd stares from random people that were lined up behind me.... "Drug money?!" As I just smile and walk on, I proceeded to stuff my 'fat face' in every dessert that is offered... cookies, cake, and my favorite meal, salad... KIDDING! My favorite meal is actually, raw sugar.... YOU THINK I'M KIDDING?! I'm not.

As 6:15 rolls around, I make my way over to the track, I have a group of 4 kids I legitimately help coach... for free. As a few teammates/friends come to join/watch, I give instructions on what today's workout is, and all runners nod their head and start their routine warm-up. As this was the 3rd workout on Monday, a friend paid half attention to the runners I have been coaching and pipes up... "Who's the 5th guy? I don't remember him from the past two weeks." My response, "Beats me... randoms just show up... and usually stay too."

A little bit later, one kid chimes in, "What mile pace, is a 5 minute mile"... As I chime back, "Well, let's see here... a 5 minute mile pace... is well, 5 minute mile pace." The kid nods his head... "Oh okay!"... Then proceeds to ask, "What mile pace is a 10 minute 2 mile?" As I don't answer and blankly stare into the sky, and talk to myself, which, as you should know by know, was out loud.... "I don't get paid enough to do this." One of my kids who is still running around the track for their warmup, runs by as he hears this, "HA, that's funny, because you don't get paid at all to do this!", and... my butt is slapped. Thoughts, "Dear Jesus, how did I end up in the situation... Sincerely, your loyal friend....-clay." Personally, I just wanted to be in a gang, and do 'stuff', and then do more 'stuff'. But no, I wanted to be a good samaritan? Who knows.

Workout done, and calculating the response the kids had from the 1st workout to the current one, "Yep, looks like they're all responding nicely!"

Then, the current activities of the evening take place, activites end, run, and now I sit here writing this....

Night y'all!

And here's your vids, you vultures: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kZ9YfB9Q3U

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0A2moFdM1Yo

-clay j mayes the 3rd

As of Lately?

2010-09-06T13:20:00.002-05:00

I haven't put up a post in a while, but ya, there's some things I'd like to share, as there has been a transitioning of my mindset these past two weeks:

As of lately, things have been... well, 'different' for me.

After my first few weeks of not being able to run, things changed. It's human nature to tell the truth.

AS USUAL, PLEASE RIGHT CLINK THE LINK, AND ADD AS YOUR BACKGROUND MUSIC. PLEASE AND THANK YOU :)!-- www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBiyiU5Blm8

Aside from being more-so ADHD from the lack of running to mellow me down, I went about everything in a very non-chalant way.
As each day of not being able run went by after the first few weeks, I didn't think anything of it. At that point, my body was still damamged, to the extent that I could not even hold up-right while trying to run, let alone walk completely normal. Of course, I cross-trained hard, as ellitptical and aqua jogging beaome my new found niche for 'breaking a sweat'. Let me tell you, I OWNED and put to shame any person that would elliptical in my presence.
As some people don't realize, most people go through the motions in their life. Personally, I am no fan. Think about it, what fun is it subconsciously going through your day without appreciating what you do, what kind of person you are, or perhaps enjoying the true simple things in life. Still lost? Okay, Have you ever drove somewhere, got out of your car and been like, "Wait... I drove, I don't even remember it.... "Well, a lot of people go through motions in their daily lives. And In my instance, it dealt with my mentality of running, or current lack there-of.

Since 7th grade, people referred to me as a runner, rare in my parts of the state... perhaps country. But ya, it was what I was known for. I worked hard, had a genuine liking of the sport, was fascinated by how it worked, and so forth. And when I got hurt, I not only lost sight of what and who I was for a bit, but was no longer consciously missing running, and even failed to remember it... even purposely to an extent.
As school came around, I would do the same thing everyday. As I made my way into the training room, now becoming quite comfortable for being an elite elliptical'ist', I went through the motions.

Football guy: "What up big man!?"
Me: "What little guy?!"
As we both gave a simple handshake on the go, I was unconscious. This was my life. Pouring sweat, with the soles of my feet burning from the friction I was creating, I hammered the elliptical day in and day out. As time went on, I began to wonder from time to time, if my hip flexor and joined tendons would ever heal, nor did I worry that much anymore. Each day would be the same thing, wake up, go to the training room, do the same drills day after day, elliptical, chit chat with the other sports players in the training room, and then go about the rest of my day 'til I aqua jogged. It was life.
To be perfectly honest, I was content. So, I told myself. Well.... wait a minute, "Okay," I wasn't completely content, there were times I was scared to be in the training room during my daily routine. It was when the softball players were there. Let me tell you this, if a cage match were to break out between me and any one of them, I would be ripped in half... And that's saying a lot with my junior high wrestling resume!

The one thing that I kept buried, was that of people continually asking me, "Are you back to running yet?" Each day, the same talks in person, calls, texts, "So can you run yet?" This would include several people primarily ranging from back home, day to day life, some of the guys on the team, and so on, but the most consistent one being my mom. "So, Mud (what my fam calls me)... can you run yet?"

Me: "Let me tell you the plan, Nancy. First off, I'm waiting for the Olympics to add the Elliptical, then and certainly then, I will proceed to represent the U.S. of A. and bring home the gold."

My mom: in a broken up tone, "So, not yet?"

Me: "Perhaps tomorrow."

I proceeded to say, "Perhaps tomorrow," numerous times, and without giving it much thought.

As I went onto campus one day, and this being the only day I have been on campus, I walked along. I am still confused to this very moment what exactly happened... But I will explain it the best I can. As I was heading back home, a young girl walked up to me and simply said, "You miss running." She did not ask it like it was question, rather telling me what I was 'supposed' to be thinking. A little confused, I just gave a slight smile/smirk, light laugh and in a half heartily tone, "Ya... I do." This was the first time it was brought to my attention, my conscious reasoning, in the 3 weeks, now up to 6 weeks at this point. What I forgot, what I missed most... And... that was it. I didn't say much more, it was a simple exchange of words. And ya, I know what you're thinking, who was the girl? Personally, I do not know. I would guess it was one of the girls that ran in some track meets I did back in high school, but I am still unsure.

Regardless, I did not fully cave. I just had that feeling about running, which could be concluded with a simple and slight curious... "huh".

For whatever reason, perhaps a spark from the girl on campus, I decided to try yet ANOTHER kind of therapy, as if the deep tissue massage, stem therapy, ultra sound, strengthening drills, and acupuncture therapy... yes, the therapy where they stab you with needles... "purposely," was not enough already. So, I made the call, set up the appointment and so let it be done. I go in and the doctor explains what's going to happen... "We are going to take this metal bar and manually use it to grind up all the scar tissue that has formed in the area of your injury, and ya, it's going to be pretty painful."

The doctor was a very friendly lady, who in a sense, came off a bit 'hippi-ish.' As she examined my body before the therapy started, proceeding to feel out the injured area, as well as several other places to figure out if I was aligned properly and all that jazz, she gets quiet.

As there is a sense of erieness, I look up, she is hovering over me as I sit there, and in a sense waiting for me to take notice, she tells me, "Clay... your body misses running."

After a confused look, she repeats it again, "Your body is telling me it misses running"
A bit baffled, I begin to think, "First off, I never said I was a runner, nor suggested it (I mean, look at me, I'm clearly basketball player material... 'clearly'). And second, as hard as it is for me to say at the time, it was true." As a rush of feelings came through, I simply sat there with a bit of confusion, a small, yet, trademark smirk of mine, and after a short pause, simply said, "Ya... ya, it does."
No longer "going through the motions" from one moment to the next, I begin to remember what I appreciated. I could entail numerous pages of what all I missed and what came to mind in that instant, but in short, I wanted to run again, sincerely. Well, okay, I'll share 'one' moment: As a good friend of mine is biking beside me on a summer night run in Claremore, I ran alongside. No worries in the world, we discussed all issues that concerned our interest:
Friend: That's crazy a common ground hole squirrel can outrun the fastest man on the planet.
Me: Crazy? No. I call it simple logic, and truth. It IS a squirrel and all.
Friend: Just curious, but what is your position on the role of government in supporting innovation in the field of biotechnology?
Me: "Well, let me put it simply, recent research has shown the empirical evidence for globalization of corporate innovation is very limitied and as a corollary the market for technologies is shrinking. As a world leader, it's important for America to provide systematic research grants for our scientists. I believe strongly there will always be a need for us to have a well articulated innovation policy with emphasis on human resource development. BOOM! Thank You!"

As the run is almost done, and just half a mile away from where we're finishing up, things take a turn As a handful of random people drove by, they proceed to throw a water bottle at my friend on the bike. As they continued onward, "as if it was over:"... they came upon a stop light 200 yards down. Without consciously thinking, I snag the filled water bottle, and track them down. As an argument breaks out, yelling from both sides, I open up the water bottle and thrown it in the their vehicle. My friend arrives over on the bike, as I swiftly say, "Go back to the vehicle, I'm taking care of this."

After some more arguing and the water bottle tossed back out of the vehicle to the other side, it gets more heated... And just as it was all said and done, I was trotting away, and one of the punks chimes in, "YA! I bet you wouldn't throw that water bottle back in here!"

"Oh really?"

Without hesitation and hopping over and grabbing it, still half full at this time, I gladly throw it back in. This time, they get out of the vehicle and face to face arguing is taking fold... and ya... I will finish this story.... "Another day, Another Time" :D.

As the heated 'event' is done with, I go back over to my friend. "Wow, I can't believe that happened..."

Me: That's a weekly thing... man.

Friend: "Same people or something? What were you thinking???"
Me: "Typically, no. And I wasn't?"

Friend: "What should we do now?"
Me: "Are we human, or are we dancers?"
Back to the therapy:
As the therapy starts, it becomes evident, "This sucks." As I can literally hear the scar tissue being grinded with the bar, and the therapist saying, "Wow, this area isn't a happy camper", I begin to "half" jokingly have second thoughts about this.

I am going to cut this entry short, but to put it simply, "They say the hardest step is always the first," so let it be known, the first step has been taken.

Yes... people... I got your comedy right here-- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjGwusHrOtk and also:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8F_G2zp-opg&feature=channel

p.s. New squirrel videos will be up 'next' post :)
-clay j mayes the 3rd

Also, I would like everyone to say a prayer or two for a good friend of mine named Jared, who is having some serious heart issues and will be undergoing surgery shortly. So, if it's not too much trouble to ask, a couple prayers for a genuinely good-hearted guy would be great!

Can you win?!

2010-08-21T17:05:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I have a full week of shenanigans, "A really busy week'. So, I would like to apologize b/c there will be no post this week.

Although, I will hold a game. Anyone can win this game with the right set of words, or best idea.

To the winner will be a prize, "A good prize". If you are a runner, it will be running-related. If you are not a runner... no worries, it will be non-running related! :)

Each person is allowed to not only enter just once, but is allowed to enter with two different entries!

The question now is, "How does one enter and what to enter?"

Basically, either send me a quote, a picture, or an essay (Roughly within a 5 minute read if that's easy to do)...of why you deserve to win this prize 'The' most! Being clever is important... If you can't tell already, I like originality!

To whatever catches my attention most, "wins".... and keep it clean.

There will be absolutely no favortism in this contest. So, if you know me... "Sorry, you're going to have to earn it :)"

Entries can be sent to mud.mayes@gmail.com or shoot me a message on facebook, whether you're a friend or not facebook friend does not matter.

Contest ends on August 27th at midnight! You got a bit less than one week, and two entries... make them count!

Everyone might as well enter, worth a shot!

-BEST OF LUCK!!!

Also...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JuPYZX2cUXE

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

"Watch it Purple!"

2010-08-15T21:57:00.019-05:00

This post will be the second edition of, "Everybody has a Story", which the first edition of this story can be found here: www.miletomile.blogspot.com/2010/07/everyone-has-story.html (or scroll down the blog).

Now, I know what you're thinking... "WATCH IT... PURPLE?!... HUH?!"... And yes, if you want to know the meaning behind this phrase, I can certainly tell you. Obviously, I tend to expound, so let me start from the beginning.

When two people love each other... (STOP!!! *clears throat*... Let's fast forward a bit more).

CUE MUSIC!!! PLEASE RIGHT CLICK LINK (ADD AN EXTRA TAB) AND ADD THIS NECESSARY BACKGROUND MUSIC FOR SCHWABBY'S START IN RUNNING... IT'S MANDATORY: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWR0k_R6XDE

It was the year 1996 and a young man by the name, "Schwabby" was competing in his local "Elementary Mile." Basically, all the Elementary classes joined together in the school he attended. The statistics to this duel included, "Let's see who can ran the fastest mile amongst all the Elementary classes." Schwabby stood 4 foot nothing stature, sportiing a crew hair cut, and grew up on the west-side of the state (important fact to remember), and it is also important to note, Schwabby had a heart twice the size of the normal 'full' grown man. To this very day, I cannot figure out if this is just an urban legend, or fact. Regardless, Schwabby was full of positive energy and was up to any challenge that he encountered. Fun fact of the day!... Schwabby's fellow childhood heroes include Michael Jordan, Lance Armstrong, and K.W.'s mom! She was smoking (8.8 out of 10)!

What sparked his interest in running?- During his 3rd grade year, Schwabby got 2nd place in his annual school's 1 mile race that was amongst all the middle schoolers. Many people are content with 2nd. Hell! Many people just want a ribbon. Honestly, if you"ve seen the movie Ricky Bobby, the phrase, "If you're not first, you're last," did not actually come from Ricky Bobby's dad. It actually came from Schwabby as he was leaving the meet when he came in 2nd... Ricky Bobby's dad overheard it, and that bastar... I mean, "jerk"... took it as his own! The nerve!

After his 2nd place showing, Schwabby went into "training mode". With the help of his dad, also a former 'great' runner himself back in the day, they measured off 'just' a quarter mile loop in a local park behind his house. Everyday he ran that same loop running anywhere from 3-5 miles. His only days off included the day before and after road races. The most remarkable thing about this was not his consistency, but what he did during his runs. "What?" You may ask... Honestly, I'm just going to cut to the chase, 'Schwabby sang the National Anthem' as he ran... over and over again, loop after loop, mile after mile, day after day during each of his runs. For whatever reason, I do not know for sure, but damn, he was one patriotic kid! (God Bless America!).

One year of training later, "It was time."

The big day had come for Schwabby as he toed the line for the annual mile race amongst all the elementary kids of his school. With a heart twice the size of a normal person, as stated earlier, and the determination of a Samurai... yes, a DAMN SAMURAI! Schwabby took out for the lead from the gun and did not relent. As each lap passed, his lead grew. By the 4th and final lap, there would be no question of who was your, "Elementaaaaary Miiiiiile Chaaampiiiiiiioon of the Year!" As legend would have it, Schwabby crossed the line 'popping champagne. 'Yes, I know what you're thinking....

"What a badass!"

"Wait, that's not what you were thinking?"...

"Me?! Actually, I don't find it weird a 4th grader was popping champagne."

"Where do I think he got champagne during his race?!"

"Dude, beats me, I think the more important thing here is he 'looked pretty dang cool' doing it!!!"

After his race, Schwabby did not relent. Year after year, he would run that same 1/4 mile loop just behind his house. Some days it was covered in ice and snow, other times, the temps would be soaring above 100 F, by all means, he was consistent.
______

Nike Outdoor Nationals:

The day was June 14th, 2006 and today was the day. Schwabby and me went to the track together, as we were staying at the same hotel. We proceeded to start our warm-up for the Nike Outdoor Nationals 5000 meter in the town of Greensboro, North Carolina, I, for one, had many racing thoughts.

As we trotted along, there was a sense of nervousness that could be felt amongst the whole stadium, from the athletes, to the parents, to the spectators, and even the nearby public wondering what the heck was causing all the commotion!? As we trotted along in our warm-up, there was light chit chat:

Schwabby: "1-10, Blonde 40 meters to the left!?"

Me: "Hmmm, 8.2"

Schwabby: Krispy Kreme donuts, or Dunkin Donuts.

Me: "Uhg... KRISPY KREME!"

Me: "If you put a chameleon in a room full of mirrors, what color would it change?" "Does a postman deliver his own mail?"

Schwabby: "Green"... "Only on Tuesdays!"

But for the most part, not much was said...
_____

Cue music (right click and add as a new tab.. THANK YOU, and have a good day :):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eWmnhOIW0k

As for my current childhood where-a-bouts as a young kid, I was playing soccer on the EAST-SIDE of the state (important to note). I was playing (hustling) Rogers/Mayes county soccer league. I was a 'professional'. "You think I'm kidding?!". I kid you not. I always, and I mean ALWAYS, got paid with sour straws and the soda pop of my choice after each game. That was my rate, I was livin' life, let me tell you. I was a ball of energy on fields, commonly referred to as "The Energizer Bunny." I held league records of 21 goals in 10 games, and according to urban legend, that record still stands, but more interestingly...

I was notorious for playing too rough, yet, I was smaller than everyone on the field..."go figure". Known for this already, a fellow parent on our soccer team took me aside right before the start of the first indoor soccer game of the season, which is in an enclosed area. Basically, the ball could not go out of bounds because you could play the ball off of the walls and he said, "Mud (that's what people called me) this is exactly like hockey, you can play as aggressive as you want... you know.. body check people into walls." Till this day, I do not know what I replied with back, but what I do know is I went onto that indoor soccer field with a crazed look in my eyes. Athletes from other teams actually started to avoid me after several bouts and after several other occasions where I actually checked them into the walls, as we (soccer players) were going for the ball.... Looking back after all these years... and remembering the pain I caused (bringing a few kids to tears), alls I can say is, "My Bad."
______

Nike Outdoor Nationals:

As the race was drawing closer, the announcer was there to let us know,

"15 MINUTES TILL RACE TIME!"

"14 MINUTES TILL RACE TIME!"

"12 MINUTES TILL THE MEN'S 5000 METER!"

"PLEASE BE SURE TO BUY A POPCORN AND A POP FOR ONLY 2 DOLLARS!"

"11 MINUTES TILL THE NIKE OUTDOOR MEN'S 5000 METER RUN!"

"WHY AM I YELLING!? WERE AM I?!"

As Schwabby and me split off in different directions to do our strides, we went into our own little world. Up-to-date, this was our biggest race we've ever done. I believe my time ranked low 20's some place overall, as Schwabby was ranked somewhere between 4th-6th overall. As we each did our light sprints in various locations, the tension was building, as the heart began to race, adrenaline pumping to such an extent, that it could be felt on the tips of one's fingers, it was easy to say, "All or nothing at the point".

_______

After a several year stunt playing professional soccer, I started to try out other sports... wrestling, football, baseball, and of course, basketball. I picked up running a bit here and there, 'for fun'. But it was not until 7th grade, that I would meet this "Schwabby". It was the Field of Dreams 5k in Tulsa (East-side)... "My hood".

Toeing the line in b-ball shorts, shoes ripped at the toe box, and in a soccer t-shirt, I had all intentions of winning my age group... 'off of talent'. Well, 'he' was there too... "Schwabby". As I walked over to the start, I was baffled. He was doing sprints... What in the world?! 50 yard sprint... 'stop', repeat... again and again!' It would not be till months later, that I would learn this is what runner's call, "Strides".

When the gun went off, I swear Schwabby dropped a sub 4 mile, okay, more like 4.05. When it was all said and done, he rolled an 18.18, as I crawled across the line in 20.22. Afterwards, "I wanted to know THE secret". Approaching him and asking, what he ran daily and to my surprise, he just smiled back and said, "I just run". As simple as it was, that's was what he did. To me, I wanted to know the tricks of the trade, the 'set' plan to success! Obviously and to what I would later figure out, running is completely based off consistency. It's something you have to routinely do, day after day, when it's dark, when it's hot, when it's cold, when it's raining, snowing, one has to do it consistently. That is what I did NOT have.

Then I started 'training'! Day after day, I would race my dad out on the country back roads. Typically, I went two miles further, as he would do a 4.67 mile run, as I did 6.67. He ran a 23 minute in the 5k, verse my 20 minute 5k. Honestly, I would tear myself apart day after day, ensuring I would beat him. Sometimes it would come down to the driveway (which is 150 meters long), sometimes I would get him a half mile out. It was after weeks, months, and then on, that I started to improve. Several months later, Schwabby and me would meet again....

During which time, Schwabby ran day in and day out, and yep, you guessed it, singing the national anthem on his runs, "OH SAY CAN YOU SEEEEEE...". Also druing this time, he would be scanning the local Oklahoma Runner Magazine with his dad, "Hey there's a night race in Tulsa! The MDA 5k run!"

As I saw the race myself, "I'm game!"

________

Nike Outdoor Nationals:

As runners are, they are competitive. This can concern anyone... ANYONE. Whether that be cross town rivalries, friends, and even family. It's just the nature to competiting when you're at such a high level of training and striving to a goal you've prepared for years. As it is known, I was relatively an underdog versus Schwabby, and for good reason! Small school vs Big school kid, 29 (okay, I think it was 11, 7 individually) time state champ verse 1 time state champ (I was excellent and notorious for choking), and so and so on.

"ALL 5000 METER RUNNERS, REPORT TO THE STARTING GATE!"

Cue music (right click and add as an extra tab): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eWmnhOIW0k

As the time was now, there was no looking back. In a white Jenks America jersey, sporting a blue wristband, a watch, and let's not forget... blue HOTWHEEL SUNGLASSES, I was ready.

Schwabby in a Red jersey saying, "OKLAHOMA" across the front, appeared to be primed and ready to go. As each runner toed the line, jam packed, each guy vollying for a spot, there was a sense of serial quiteness, as all runners awaited the gun. The stadium was lit up to the max, as it was complete nightfall, yet, inside the stadium it appeared to be true as day.

Within one split second, the starter proceeds to raise the starting gun, to which, was pointing straight to the heavens.

"BANG!"

________

(Schwabby located far left, blonde hair, 9th grade at this time, in which, he grew literally a foot one year later)

That night of the MDA run could not have came soon enough, as it was a hot and humid night in June. After a righteous 3 minute jog warm-up... I was ready. I walk over to the line, "HE'S... HE'S HERE!... Looks like he grew half an inch too!"

Now, let me tell you the facts so far. I went from a 20.xx 5k guy to a pr (personal record) of 18.04 in the 5k at this time. This next part may sound hard to believe, but true none the less, Schwabby at this time, 'also' had a pr of 18.04 in the 5k. I figured, I would have the element of surpise and catch him off guard by my new found fitness...

To what I later found out, Schwabby knew my current 5k pr, as well as, the weather I set it in, and the place I set it at. Turns out, Schwabby read the 'Oklahoma Runner Magazine' too...

________

Nike Outdoor Nationals:

As a slight panic was put forth amonst the field of 29 runners, EVERYONE was battling for positioning. The kid that lined up to the right of me, sporting 'purple shorts' proceeded to throw an elbow across my chest. My thoughts, "You will later pay for that, 'Purple!'" "YOU WILL PAY!!!"

I quickly tucked in and was positioned mid pack amongst the field. Schwabby positioned just a couple spots back on the outside of lane 1/inside of lane 2. Electricity coursing the the air, screaming to the right, screaming to the left, it was an enviroment that could not be matched anywhere else.
As we came through the first lap, hearing the officials shout, "72!!!" The pace was right on. Currently, not even feeling like we were running, I did what I could in staying relexed and zoned out... And at this time, was ahead of Kevo... a rare occurance. As each lap went by, "72!"... "73!"... "72!!", we came through the first mile in 4.50. All the runners bunched in together, it finally began to open up. As the defeated began to fall off the back, one by one, there was one less guy that needed to be dealt with. "Survival of the Fittest".

________The gun goes off, and this time, it would be 'different'. Taking a commanding lead over "Schwabby", as he just... 'chilled'. I continued to push forward, flying throgh the first K in 3.25 (17.05 5k pace, as I only had a pr of 18.04 at the time). I continued to push hard and not relent. By the mile marker, "I felt it". Not giving in, I did not relent, but I knew... I knew 'he' was coming. By 3k and starting to foam at the mouth, Schwabby pulls up beside me. At this point, I did not know he knew anything about me other than, "The slow kid that asked him 307 questions at the Field of Dreams 5k". Schwabby could have just passed me without saying a word, could've gave me the stare down, could have talked smack, heck... he could've threw in a surge to really show 'who was boss'!. To what happened next, caught me off guard. With an overwhelming sense of peppiness, he says, "LET'S GO CLAY!"... first thought, "He knows my name?". "COME-ON BUDDY... LET'S RUN FAST!"

As many would hope of a comradery to form with us sprinting in together, it was not so. As he began to pull away, I was 'maxed' out and could not go with him. As we came upon the last 400 meters, his dad, to which, also knew my name, "GET UP THERE... HELP PUSH HIM!!! MAKE HIM WORK FOR IT! LET'S GO CLAY!!!"

After it was all done and said, I ran 18.17 and as for my new found rival... 18.04, I kid you not. After it was all said and done, Schwabby's dad was gracious enough to come talk to me about running and give me a few pointers. By all means, he genuinely seemed interested in helping me along in my running career and as well, an all around good guy... GREAT GUY!

As the years passed, I improved, but by very little in comparison to my rival. Schwabby thrived and even was being referred to as the "Next Dathan Ritzenhein" (Former American Record holder in the 5k) as he was known amongst many runners in the state. HECK!... Schwabby was so popular he once went into Burger King and ordered a Big Mac... And GOT ONE!

We met a handful of times after the MDA run, only once cathcing him off guard before his substantial improvement. It was not until my last cross country race of my senior year, "The Oklahoma vs Arkansas Dual Meet", that there was a new found motivation in my running to put forth some sort of challenge. It was here that it became evident how dominant Schwabb was. Winning by an astonishing 2x some seconds and hearing people off the sidelines yell, "THAT'S SCHWABBY!"... I could not help but feel proud of this kid. Remembering his early days, and my early days as he was always positive, even though I currently just got CRUSHED. It did not bother me. I was happy for him. HELL... Schwabby even ignored some people and went out of his way to come over and talk to me about the race and everything as I layed sprawled out in exhaustion after the race.

Then, 'it happened'. Just as I was getting ready to head out, a random girl from the girls race comes up to me, "CAN I GET A PICTURE WITH YOU!?"... My response, "Uhg.. You sure you want one?" As the young girl was chirping away to her mom, "This... THIS IS THE KID! (Also, mentioning national rankings, to which, I could not fully understand what she was saying).

After getting hustled into taking a picture, it was not only till a few minutes later... that I realized..

My thoughts... "NO... NO, IT CAN'T BE!? SHE DID!!! SHE THOUGHT I WAS HIM! SCHWABBY!"
*MOTIVATION BACK*... CHECK

That winter, I bumped up my miles to 80 mpw, did the 12x400 meter workout and added 4 each week, up them till I hit 40 of them. I was focused and determined. A couple months later, quickly throwing down a huge pr in late January, an 8.51 3k (9.25-927 3200m equivalent), and to the extent, some Oklahoman's were proclaiming the track "had to be" short. It wasn't. Now holding the fastest time in the state for the next few months to come, I would not go out without a fight. By mid-track season, it becomes evident that Schwabby responds, running 9.22 alone (keep in mind, it's very hard to run fast in Oklahoma. It can be really windy, no competition, and so forth), and apparently, the kid popped two champagne bottles at the finish line this time. My thoughts, "Damn." AND "Impressive".

So, I continued to train. I won state and did not settle there, and I made sure to win every race I entered, aside from losing one 1600m race, to which, was b/c I got caught on the railing and went down towards the end of the race... with that loss, I still won 23 out 24 of my senior year track season races, (12 for 12 at the 3200m distance). Although, I never ran against "Schwabby" that track season, because we were different class sizes, him being 5A, the largest, and me being 3A. BUT... I did have one trick up my sleeve. I knew Schwabby was running at The Nike Outdoor Nationals 5000m this year in mid-June. As I was also competiting in....

_____

Nike Outdoor Nationals 5000m:
8 laps and still a couple strides ahead of Schwabby, there was a push made by one of the runners. This is where the field began to break up into just two handful of runners, as everyone was trying to cover the move. Falling back to 10th place sitting just behind the front pack, which now consisted of
Schwabby. As I was now just a few strides behind him as the racing was coming to a close, "There was my chance to get him, after all these years of being so far behind him. I was now within striking distance". As fate would have it, nothing goes as planned. As Schwabby was striding along, there was that one damn kid... the kid wearing purple shorts. Who proceeded to cut him off. To me, and certainly to Schwabby, it appeared to be intentional.

As I witnessed 'Purple', proceed to make it so obvious that he was doing it on purpuse and causing Schwabby to break stride and then in one instance, almost fall. I was overwhelmed with what was happening. It was then, that I knew how much I respected Schwabby, as my adrenline began to pump, I could not control what I said next, "WATCH IT, PURPLE!!!" Somewhat in shock, the kid immediately quit causing problems, and for whatever reason, fell off the pace.

As the closing laps were passing, Schwabby made a push to volly for the win, coming up just short with a 2nd place finish and earning himself a new pr in addition and the fastest 5000m run by any Oklahoman high schooler up to date! As I finished up at 6th place finish with new pr from 15.53 to 15.11... only a 42 second pr.

Overall, race could not have gone better! Top 6 was All-American, and only the state of Oklahoma had two kids earn All-American honors!

______The race was over, but was just the beginning. As Schwabby and me had a more thorough respect for each other. We each continued to train hard and help each other with running and whatever life brought. It would be a few years later, after a long and drawn out story (Another Day, Another Story), that we are now 'currently' teammates. To get a true definition of teammates, one must view this video... to see how squirrels join together as packs, families, to defend one another from outside predators: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZp_nX3g9Ec&feature=related

Schwabby currently holds the Oklahoma high school state record in the 3200m and 5000m, as well as, earning All-conference 3 times in the Big 12. And recently placing very well amongst the top collegiates in the nation in the most recent NCAA 10000 meter up in Oregon.

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

Watch

2010-08-15T20:22:00.005-05:00

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fk3RahPkOPw&feature=related

Top of My Game

2010-08-10T22:31:00.006-05:00

BEFORE continuing to read, please take the time and realize squirrels are people too and perhaps people are squirrels too in some way... Evidence shown here > http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wo2-FNfbqYY&feature=related

In life, we all have certain things we're proud about. As a runner, this includes personal best times in races, and/or workouts.

For me, I'm different. As a runner, and if you know me... also, as a person. I move to a different beat of my own drum. First off, I don't like following the norm of things. Rather, I will make my own way. Since I can remember, this has included wearing a ridiculously big wristband... Yes, people. I know. It's dorky wearing pink gloves at races, and at my more important meets, sporting blue sunglasses that had yellow flames on the side with the writing, "Hotwheels." My reasoning(s)... Chicks dig it.

Back on topic:

To non-runners, many just think running... is well, 'running.' It can actually be very complicated. If one sees me out and about on a run, you are not seeing the true colors to running. It is when you do not see me, when 'work' is being done. Whether it be me at the track, a race, or doing intervals at some non-populated area to keep track of splits for timed intervals, or tempos. As for the Tempo aspect of running, they can be tough for oneself to hold a particular 'high' heart rate for a fixed amount of time, which ensures you WILL suffer for that set amount time, oh... 'the joy of running'. Tempos can vary from 3 to 10 miles typically. Of course with a proper warm-up and cool-down that can sometimes add several miles to the total. Pace can range from 4.45 mile pace to 5.30 pace. As for intervals, this is where it gets complex in the running world.

Intervals among many 'elites' in the world can vary greatly. This is where my post gets going. In my training, I like to 'experiment.' I like to run up to 160 miles a week, which is rarely done, and in this case, do 'lots' of intervals.

Last winter, I was seeing the effects of doing a lot of 400 meter repeats. Simply with 1 minute of rest in-between and then proceed to start the next repeat and so forth. My reasoning for doing so is simple. Among many runners, there is a well known 'fictional' running book. It entails details of a runner by the name of Quenton Cassidy, doing crazy training of 160 miles a week (I beat him there, did a couple weeks over 160) and doing 60 total 400 meter repeats. Well, I wanted to beat him in that aspect too. So, I told a friend in 4 weeks I would destroy his workout and beat him by one 400 meter repeat! This is what entailed in our conversation when I told my friend, who was also a fellow runner:

Friend: "Clay... You do realize this is about a 'fictional' runner... right?!"

Me: "It's personal between me and Quenton Cassidy!"

Friend: "He's NOT real."

Me: "You're not real."

Friend: "You're playing this game again?"

Me: "You're a game!"

Friend: "Anyways, when are you doing this workout?"

Me: "4 weeks, I'm going to do 20 repeats the first week and add 10 repeats each week." As I then proceeded to think to myself...with school and everything, and this being over winter break, this was my opportunity to De-thrown Quenton Cassidy!!! Muhahaha!!!!

Friend: "Clay, you're doing it again. You think you're talking to yourself, but you're not. You're talking out loud... again. And hey man, what's with the evil laugh. Where did that come from!?"

Me: Shut up, whore!

Friend: "Why do I hang out with you?"

Me: "GREAT question!"

FOR VIEWING PLEASURE, PLEASE RIGHT CLICK AND ADD AS A NEW TAB FOR BACKGROUND MUSIC: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4e94y4EjWGs

As the first week of 20 repeats came, no prob! It's also important to note, all repeats HAD to be 70 seconds or faster, ALL repeats had to be or they didn't count. Then came 30 repeats... in which, half the team didn't believe I was going to do them, so they came out at the local track and supported me... at 11 o'clock... at night... on a random Tuesday. All of the guys knew the statistics, 70 flat and NO MORE than 60 seconds rest in-between repeats.

Teammate just before repeat # 17: "Clay.."

Me: As I was taking a couple deep breaths, breathing in for the next repeat, "What?"

Teammate: "55 seconds rest currently...You gotta go!"

With a simple, and slightly evil stare, as if to say, "I know where you live!" I took off for repeat 17.

My teammate turns to another guy on the team... "Clay's doing it again... he thinks he's talking to himself, but he's actually saying that out loud... AND (For the record, and to what I was later told, a slight head shake in wonder)..."Clay lives with me... of course he knows where I live.."

By repeat 28, one teammate says in a stone cold face, "Clay, I believe."

To which, it was 2 degrees out, there's not much more he could say... Personally, I think he meant to say more... like, "Clay, I believe squirrels are the greatest things ever, they ARE God's little babies! YOU WANT ONE AS A PET 'TOO'!? Why yes Clay, my mom is available this Saturday!"

The next week of 40 repeats I would be alone, except for the company of a couple kids I trained doing a fixed number of intervals with me. (BTW, ALL 3 that were there, balled it up that upcoming track season... I know my stuff, what can I say!) *cough* "CLAY, you're doing it again. You keep thinking you're not talking to yourself, but you're talking out loud," says a friend sitting right by me, as I type this current entry.

Now, as I write this to you, I've got bad news and good news... "What do you want to hear first?"

"The bad news?"

"Okay"

"Turns out Geico is totally full of shit! AND you can NOT save 15% on your car insurance!"

...Now, the Good news?

"Okay, I lied... Both things are bad news."

Unfortunately, after I did 40 repeats, I was not able to go for 61 400 meter repeats (And may I remind you, to CRUSH Quenton Cassidy's 60 times 400 meter repeat workout) the week after I 'attempted' 50 repeats. Oklahoma received a huge ice storm and I had to resort to doing an on and off type interval workout on the roads, 'Woah is me'.

But... I will discuss my 'attempt' of doing the 50 times 400 meter repeat workout.

Frist off, I was home. So naturally, I went out to my Club's track and did the workout there, as well as, having the company of the same handful of kids I was training.

With temp's in the 50's, no wind, it was PERFECT. Rocking the pink gloves, bright yellow running shorts, a long sleeve nike under armor tee, and a new addition to 'my style'... long white tube socks... I was ready to go! One by one, I lined up for each repeat. Naturally, getting this routine perfect- a few steps over to the line, left foot just two inches before the line, knees bent, a good lean forward, and a simple clicking of the watch to signal the timing of the interval, followed by striding out, as I glided around the track repeat after repeat. There was a pulse, an electric static in the cool crisp air. People from the club buzzing around, talking about life, school, and how big of a whore Suzzy Q. was.

By 26 repeats, I was alone and no longer had the company of fellow runners.

By 30 repeats, naturally, the mind starts to play tricks on you... HECK... I can barely count to 30, let alone continue for another 20 repeats... "DEAR BABY JESUS!"

Although, something was different. I was rolling off 70 flat or faster on the repeats, yet, not exerting a great deal of effort. I later figured out, after 4 weeks of 400 meter repeats... my body adapted to the new stimulus, and to what I call "fit". I love this feeling. Personally, this is one of the greatest pleasures in life.

As I kept my stern focus, solemnly running lap after lap, people finishing their cooldowns began to sit trackside and wonder, "What the hell is he still doing?!" As another person chimed up, "That's Clay, he's weird.".... Others asking, "What do you mean?" With no time to waste, "Well, he likes long walks on the beach, bubble baths, and reads romantic novels... as well as, having an obsession with squirrels, and proclaiming, "THEY ARE GOD'S LITTLE BABIES!!!.. He also sent me this youtube clip 'randomly' about squirrels... it was WEIRD!" (--youtube clip to be included at end of post--)

With just several repeats to go, the gloves are off... literally along with my long-tee, so it now stands... I sported running shorts and righteous tube socks for the remaining repeats. As the last several repeats were coming to a close, I started rolling....running 68... 67's... and a few 66's on the last 20% of the repeats... I would not be phased by this workout. In between those intervals, I was now talking to my club coach who just got back from his cooldown and was done talking to all the parents and fan fare he receives... 'he receives a lot, let me tell you.'

As the workout is coming to a close, I finish strongly and without too much trouble. My current thoughts, Quenton Cassidy, You will be mine! Just then, on the track itself, a friend pipes up... "GEEZUS, CLAY, YOU ALWAYS TALK OUT-LOUD WHEN YOU THINK YOU'RE NOT. I REALLY DON'T THINK YOU KNOW THE MEANING OF TALKING TO YOURSELF.... with an awkward pause in time and a look of embarrassment... the convo is finished with a, "WOW."

As I grabbed my gear and headed home, I proceeded to stop by the local convenient store and stuff my face with 3 chocolate milks, a bag of peanuts, and then later on in the drive stop by Subway for a sub... Oh, let me say, I eat because I'm happy, I'm happy because I eat!

Youtube clip that was being talked about, and said to be 'weird'... it's not... it's AWESOME!!... VIEW HERE>-- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qb8JytAxLa4&feature=related

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

My True Beginning

2010-08-05T23:39:00.005-05:00

I would like to apologize for the delay. So, here is my favorite running clip... p.s. it gets good after the first minute.... www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZHBSBG7RSs

Before I go into/write greater detail about my running and everything, I feel I should give credit where it is due.

Here's background music...leave playing while you read the rest of this post.... (cut and paste to another tab) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTQ3MNPxyfA&feature=av2e

So, in a Ron Burgundy voice: In the year 2000, the month of October, I was running the Tulsa Zoo Run 5k held at Mohawk Park in Tulsa. As a young 13 year-old kid, I sported a cheezy bead-like necklace, gym shorts, and a Race for the Cure t-shirt, in which, I thought was cool at the time and cut off the sleeves... it was 15 degrees out (Okay, perhaps it was more like in 20's. Regardless, It was cold for a young tike, like myself).

As the gun went off, I started my classical move by 1k and started picking off the local wanna-be elites. There was the idiot who always took off too fast, "When will you learn that taking off in a sub 60 400m is not going to work this time, nor anytime for that matter?!" Then came about rivilaries between two runners who would tactically surge against each other and be oblivious to everyone else, "Later, chumps!". Then there was the random squirrel that ran out in front of me, "Harold (that was his name), it's 15 degrees out! Get home and get warm!"

By 3k there was the 'stronger' of the local elites, and it included the top women of the race. Roughly 2 miles in, I spot a big red headed guy... "I'm losing to 'that' guy?!"

A sense of emergency is brought forth to pick up the pace..."I am not losing to him!"

Quickly closing the gap, I pull up beside him just before the 4k and then proceed to surge up the only hill on the course. What do you know, he sticks to me. I was starting to regret having a McDonald's breakfast at that time. A gut full of pancakes and hashbrowns, I continued to push forwad none the less... As well as my new big red-headed rival, to what appeared to be the linebacker of all runners. Coming around a turn, signaling roughly 1/2 a mile left, I continued to push as hard as my 13 year-old able body would allow, as a small cool breeze picked up, clouds covered the sky creating a solem mood...and without a hint of sweat (it was 15 degrees in all), I started to sprint (in actuality, this was only a 530 mile pace). Coming down the last straight-a-way, I looked back. Now, this wasn't a quick peak... this was the full on, Lance Armstrong look into the eyes of Jan Ulrich. "I got him!" With just a 100 meters left, the wheels started to fall off, "DAMN IT, MCDONALDS! EVERY TIME I REGRET EATING YOU!!!"

With just a short gap of 'race' left, my friend starts coming in strong! With just a small gasp of life left, a quick step in and perhaps, only beating my new found rival... by a gut full of pancakes and hashbrowns.

Delirious, as I was after every race, I thought of only one thing... "McD's was totally worth it!" 15 minutes later and hurling, "I hate you McDonalds!"

Later during the awards, as all the runners gathered inside a tent, to which, didn't have much warmth, other than the heat put off by the runners themselves... I awaited my award. I WANTED THAT AWARD! I loved medals at this time, and especially if they were unique. Not some peice of cra... excuse me... not the 'cheap' kind that you would see in your local running magazine advertising "89 cents a medal for so and so amount purchased"... they were a 'peice'.

As I waited there, all the runners waiting for the 15 minute per mile walkers to come in. I waited and waited... and froze. Being just under 100 lbs at the time, I didn't create much warmth. My rival, comes over to me, "HEY! I'm Mike! I'm with Jenks America Track Club! What's your name?!" As I stood there shivering, all I noticed was the massive hoody he had on...with the saddest face and simple thought, "That hoody looks sooooooooo warm." Perhaps reading my face, or perhaps, seeing me shiver, he quickly pulls off his triple x-large hoody (okay, it was more like a large) and says, "Here ya go, put this on!" Thank God!

Still a bit pale from the race and the cold, "My name's Clay, people call me Mud." As for the nickname Mud, Another Day, Another Story. Mike speaks up, "You're a really tough kid! You would not give up out there!"

I was soon asked, the all too common question amongst runners, "What do you do for training?"

One may wonder what went through my mind when he asked that question. Well... let me tell you!

*clears throat*

In 4th grade, I remember stuffing my face with sour straws ( a GREAT kind of candy), to such an extent, that I got sick and then some!
5th grade I remembered drinking so much coke at a high school home football game, that I not only pissed excellence, but the coke itself too.

In 6th grade, I became a legend in dodgeball and almost went pro. Oh! and I ate a lot of candy too!

Upon those thoughts, what did I actually say, "Ugh, I just run road races here and there... and play soccer."

Mike: "That's great, I'd love to have you out at Jenks America practice. You just kept fighting today... You can do great things in running, if you stick with it!"

Well, we talked for quite a while about running and what not, but I was unsure. As the months went on, I would go to a practice once in a blue moon. Mike would call me every so often to check in, "Clay! How's running going?"

My thoughts half the time, "I 'literally' have a hangover from all the skittles I've consumed in the past 3 hours, let me tell you, this is no joking matter."

By February of my 7th grade year, Mike's persistence went through. Started the season as a 5.44 miler, ended up with a 5.10 at Hershey's National meet up in Pennsylvania. As well as going from a high 19's in the 5k, to a 17.24 from February to September. I was now a runner. Although, I let go of sports like football, basketball, and so forth, I still stuck it out in soccer.

I still trained by myself for the most part, running through town... causing mischief and mayhem, people wanting to know what I was doing... as a nice young lady pulls up beside me on a run, "Hey kid, do you need a ride home or something?"

Me: "Nah, I'm good."

The lady confused as to why I was running.... proceeds to ask, "What exactly are you doing?"

Me: "To tell you the truth, I'm going home."

Now, drawn into the matter...

Lady: "Where's home?"

Me: "New York"

On another day, and just a couple summers ago, it would be the local cop that would shoot the questions:

"Hey bud, what are you doing?"

Keep in mind, when he asked this question it was 1 in the morning and I wanted to get home... and be left alone...

Me: "I'm running from the law!" ----- (The cops were NOT amused by my humor)

As years passed, cops become friendly and waved, rather than question me. Random people no longer questioned my running... Rather, they now threw stuff. It made running 'interesting'.

As time went on, and my club coach routinely called to, "See where I was at." I would always be glad to chime back. At different times, I was running really well, and at other times, not so much.

But Mike's persistence, kept me going. Always being positive, always expecting the best. Routinely, Mike asks me during the winter and summer break to come talk to the kids (the track club he runs). Everytime I do, as a solid 50 kids coming from all parts of the state gather, in which, they will just stare at you and expect some magical wisdom (it is also important to note...they can smell fear). Well, Mike always, and I mean always, opens up with a 30 minute speech, and if you don't know Mike... he is VERY good with words. Typically, I'm just like, "WHAT HE SAID!" Okay, I say a 'little' bit more.

Mike also instilled a very different training style and mentality into me. I know I'm not the most talented guy out there, "that is fine... I'm content with what I've been given." But, that doesn't mean I won't do something about it. As my senior xc year was coming to a close, it was far from perfect. I did more intensity, more miles. After years of seeing me train, Mike knew what I could and could not handle. He started me off with 12x400m repeats at 70-71 (1 min. rest). I would do so regulary every monday. Each week, I added 4 repeats...until I hit 40...same day, same pace, same everything, week to week. Each time I would come back stronger, and then started the 'good' time. Going from a 15.53 5k kid to 15.11 by Nike Outdoor Nationals, I would consider that a success.

Okay, so, this post may or may not be to some people's liking. It's a bit different, I know. But it is a necessity to have before I continue to post. The moral to this is, everyone can get to the finish in their own way, and on that way, I would like to give credit where it is due... To someone that has stuck with me through thick and thin, driving me to meets several hours away... And on those meets, griping me out for getting a C in trig. "It's important to be well rounded in life." So many people proclaim multi-million dollar athletes as their heroes, which is a complete joke. In terms of who should be dubbed a hero, It's good parents (first), then beyond that, it's people like Mike. People that don't get paid to do it, yet, give so much back to the world. Never tearing others down, but rather do what is the hardest thing to do in today's world... Leading by good example.

To clarify what I'm further going to put on here: Once the end of November comes, I will put every detail of my training on here... every detail. I plan on starting at 20 400m repeats every week and add 4 as each week passes... goal is to get above 60. Current pr is 50, which was last winter (I was suppose to discuss this today, but I'll do it another time :). During this time- till Novermber, I will share stories and where I believe my fitness to be, as well as, some training here and there.

But if anyone really wants to know of my exact training before I hit 1/2 marathon training and above come november... feel free to email me at mud.mayes@gmail.com I will be glad to answer all questions.

Oh ya...in tribute to Harold...wherever he is these days... (cut and paste into your browser)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWNDOqmYuto

Last thing to note, Mike was a baller in college. Split a 46 in the 400m (not bad for a white guy) and split a 1.46 a relay (ran 1.47.1 open 800m)... He also played collegiate football and almost went pro in the NFL. Went to the preseason training camp and made the cut, heart wasn't in it and now makes bank as Geologists and coaches over 100 kids at any point in the year. Impressive.

The secret to running is Borden Chocolate Milk.

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

I Almost Cried, "Almost"

2010-07-30T04:42:00.006-05:00

Okay, so ya, I believe the title speaks for itself. Now, one may wonder... "Why?"

I've always been a tough-natured kid. Whether it be running a ridiculous workout (I was going to post about one workout in particular, but I decided to go with this one. I'll get to the other one in the near future), putting in 140 mile weeks, and at times, much more. Hell... I've even eaten broccoli... once.

As I've discussed in my previous post, I've been injured. Call it bad luck, or perhaps a fate to which will make me stronger in the long run... "I do not know."

So, I've been trying 'things' to get healthy as quick as possible and decrease my prescription of, "Two months totally off," says the Doc. I've been to two physicians, a couple chiropractors... I have tried everything!

Just recently, out of the blue... A 'nice' friend of mine knows 'a place'. He suggested I give it a try... (with a 'sly' smile), a physical therapy place. This place has also used by the runners Ryan Hall (2008 Olympic Marathon Trials champ), Meb Keflezighi (Olympic 2004 Marathon silver medalist). I've been through a little physical therapy in my life, "No sweat." A little stretching, throwing around a ball, and perhaps, a few jokes about what happened in our daily lives.

Me: "So at work today, a bunch of squirrels took my cookies."

Former therapist: "Dude, I'm having a hard time believeing that."

Me: "I'm telling you, THEY DID!"

Former therapist: "Says the kid who believes squirrels are on top of the food chain."

ME: "THEY ARE." Proof- www.youtube.com/watch?v=EFWeldHtJgI&feature=related (viewer discretion advised)

Back to the matter at hand:

As I make my call to schedule my appointment,

Me: "Hey, I hear you guys are good, can I get an appointment?"

--"Haha... Yes sir, you can. What time works for you?"

Me: "When's your earliest opening?"

--"Ive got an opening tomorrow at 5?"

Me: "Great, I'll see you then!"

As the next day comes about, with a slight hitch in my stride (thank you busted hip flexor and now IT band problems), I made the drive over to my appointment. Which is in the great city of Boulder... Yes, I gave you my location, live it up, this will be the only time.

Once I found the place, to my surprise, it didn't have flashing signs, people sprinting in and out. It just was a simple little office on the 2nd floor on top of a running store. "Huh."

As I walk up the stairs, opening the office door and greeted with a smile and the words, "Hi! You must be Clay."

My thoughts, "Wow, that's impressive! They know my name!"

My physical therapist was a very nice girl, who was also a runner herself, a good one too!

So, after some joking around, and describing the injury. I'm good to get my injury worked on.

I get stretched out for several minutes.... "Hey, this isn't too bad!"

(This part of the appointment spans over the next 45 minutes)

"Okay Clay this is giong to be 'uncomfortable'. So just let me know if you need a break when I'm working on your leg. The muscles that are damaged are beneath other muscles. So, it's going to be a deep tissue massage. It can be a sensitive area for whoever's being worked on, just letting you know."

With a smile, I say "Ya, no problem at all" (Pfff, like 'I' would need a break)

Keep in my mind, my hip and IT BAND area were damaged and sore at this time. That being said, with all her force and weight... 'digging' in... I 'INSTANTLY', went into a unbelievable shock of pain. "BABY JESUS, HELP ME".

Within seconds, I start breaking out in a sweat. Barely able to breathe....

Therapist: "Are you okay, Clay?"

At the time, having trouble to muster words, "Ye...ah"... 'I wasn't.'

As the laws of physics are being defied by the appointment, in which, time is standing still. I swear at one point I saw the clock go backwards! I SWEAR!

As the treatment goes on, and the continued digging into my hip area proceeds, which by the way is being ripped apart... I begin to remember all the good things in life. That did NOT include 'this'.

As the almost insurmountable pain goes on, drenched in sweat, fists clinched, "Clay, do you need a drink of water?"

Me: "I... I... I'm good." (There goes my ego talking again...Man.. I hate that guy!)

Perhaps trying to make me feel better, perhaps b/c it looked like I was dying... My therapist says, "They say with this type of therapy and how sensitive it is, it's worse than child birth."

On a side note: "Thank God, I don't have child bearing hips, WHEW!"

After what seemed like forever, the appointment is done. I'm laying there, all self-respect lost, soaked in my own sweat... "Oh, ya, I can breathe now."

Me: "Wow, that was... to put it simply, miserably painful."

Therapist: "Ya, we are completely different from most physical therapy places. We're very hands on. Okay, treatment two."

Me: "Ugh... Treatment... TWO!?"

Therapist: "Clay, how do you feel about needles?"

Me: "Nee... nee... Needles?!"

Therapist: "Okay, what we're going to do next is acupuncture."

With no time at all, needles are being inserted 3 plus inches deep. My body is beginning to rebel perhaps because it's 'literally' being stabbed. As my therapist continues to open another pack of needles, one after another... and another... Sticking each needle in with ease, to which my muscles pull and contract in anger, as if my muscles were saying, "What did we do to you!? Why Clay, WHY!?"

After being 'stabbed' numerous times, my therapist leaves them in and says, "I'll be right back, they need to stay in there for just a bit."

My thoughts: "A BIT?!"

As I lay there, looking to the side to witness the damage, "Wow, I can count over 20 needles jabbed in my right leg."

A little later, she takes them out and of course, my legs/muscles start to contract and pull in a painful motion... "GREAT!"

Then, as I'm lying there, a few patches that are hooked up to wires are then placed on my leg. A machine is then turned on sending strong electrical currents throughtout the whole leg. This is known as Stem therapy (I think), as my leg experiences an overwhelmingly powerful tingling feeling, to which, travels through my body for the next 20 minutes...

AND THEN...

I am finished. This... 'This' is where I almost cried, "I was happy."

As everything is being wrapped up, "So, when would you like to have your follow-up appointment?"

My thoughts, "Pssshhh... Like I'm going through this again!"

Then these words come out of my mouth, "Next wednesday at 5 works for me." My thoughts upon saying that, "Who is that guy! I certainly would not have said it... after all that!"

Therapist: "Wednesday it is."

My thoughts: " :( "

That being said, as I headed out... "Wow, I got some mobility back in my leg... did that really work?!"

I may be jumping the gun, and perhaps, it's hard to say, because I've been out almost two weeks and have not come close to being able to run... "I think I can run tomorrow." This would have been unbelievable just a few hours ago...

Stay tuned to see if this crazy therapy worked!

Also: Some people have been requesting my training to be a little more 'specific'. So...

The last 6 days have consisted of 2 plus hours of aqua jogging and biking (last two days have been all aqua jogging in which, I do hard intervals in aqua jogging... getting my heart rate even past 180 in the workout on intervals). "All Day, Every Day"

Through and through keep in mind, my primary goal is to get a Marathon Trials qualifier out of the way by next March. (Trials marathon is held January 2012 in Houston)... Another Day, Another (Aqua) Mile

Also: www.youtube.com/watch?v=8cCFn55Zxkc&feature=related < click

-clay j mayes the 3rd

Aqua Jogging, My Low Point

2010-07-25T23:28:00.000-05:00

At any point in an athlete's career, one is sure to have a low point. Currently, I have a torn hip flexor, and it's been borderline hell dealing with and now 'just' cross training to stay somewhat fit.

Obviously, a low point can be classified in many ways, but in my way, it's 'different'.

As I write this next entry, please be sure to take into account 'my humor'. First off, even in bad times, I can usually joke around and keep a somewhat upbeat attitude about the current situation.... That being said:

After checking my options, the best thing I can do is aqua jog. What is aqua jogging you may ask? Agua jogging is also known as hell among injured athletes, in which, one puts on a floatable foam belt (typically, in a 'pretty' baby blue color), to which, a person is then easily able to stay upright in a simming pool. "Then what?" Then you proceed to run in the water. Typically the head and part of the shoulders are above water and one must stay thoroughly focused to move your arms and legs in a runinng-like motion. And it 'can' get the heart rate up and to some degree, stimulate running. Personally, I am able to get my heartrate up to over 200 beats a minute while on hard runs, and during agua jogging, about 160-180 beats per minute... "So, this will have to do".

As I make my way down to the local pool with a fellow friend in the area, which sits at 6000 feet elevation, I begin to wonder what workout I'll do. I decide on 10 minutes warmup (like 70% running effort in the pool), then 1 minute hard, 2 minutes hard, 3 minutes hard and then repeat 5 times (80-95% effort). And in-between hard sets, 1 minute easy at 70% effort.

Upon arrival, I see it's a country club pool with a lot of... "kids", 'Great'. As we enter the pool area, this is what I see: Kids running around and yelling, lauging, mingling from all directions, moms chit chatting about local gossip, dads saying nothing, as if to say, "this... this is what my life has become?!". There's also an overabundance of lifeguards... like 15. And "No", that's not an exaggeration. As I take a deeper look, I begin to see the kids appear to have their own coalitions. The cool kids, the nerds, the rich kids, and of course, evil little 'Timmy'.

As I fully take this all in, within a matter of moments, I turn to my friend and non-chalantly say,

"This is my low point".

As my friend is used to such a setting, living in the neighborhood, he responds with, "What?"

(With half a smile) "This is my low point in my career. It can't get any worse."

As I threw on my belt, which probably looked like a heavy weight boxing belt to the kids that looked on in wonderment, wondering what the 'big' kid in bright yellow running shorts was doing.

THIS IS THE TIME IN THE BLOG WHERE YOU TURN UP THE VOLUME ALl THE WAY UP ON YOUR COMPUTER AND SPEAKERS, AND RIGHT CLICK THIS LINK AND USE IT FOR BACKGROUND MUSIC. YOUR READING EXPERIENCE WILL BE BENEFICIAL IF DONE CORRECTLY. www.youtube.com/watch?v=uY3LAFJbKyY

I proceeded to hop in the pool with one thought, "Let's go". As I start my workout (also, when one aqua jogs, they move about 1 mph forward, serious) , focusing to the best of my abilities, "SPLASH!" as a young kid jumps in front of me and I get a small wave of water splashed in my face (also known as a "bitch slap" amongst the kids in the pool). With a smile, I think, "It happens, he's just a kid."

Now, It's time to start doing my hard timed intervals, as my legs quicken, arms cutting through the water with ease, "SPLASH!", as the 'same' kid jumps right in front of me, 'again'... with a smug look, but still in my mind, "Hey, remember... he's just a kid."

As I'm now starting to become more and more used to this, "aqua jogging" thing. No longer feeling 'too' awkward. At 20 minutes, in the corner of my eye, I notice a couple little girls pointing and whispering about me... as if they've never seen an agau jogger?!

"SPLASH!"... as the same kid, jumps right out in front of me... "IS HE DOING THAT ON PURPOSE?!"... "No, no, surely, he's not... again... he's 'just' a kid."

As I come through the halfway point in my 75 minute pool workout, I can feel my heart beat increasing, my breathing is starting to quicken, "Hey this isn't such a bad workout!"... My shoulders are starting to burn, hamstrings are tightening, quads feeling like they've been put through a hard hill run... and at that moment, I notice in the corner of my eye, the 'same' kid looks at me very quickly and jumps right out in front of me, "SPLASH!", "DAMN IT, HE IS DOING IT ON PURPOSE!!!" "COME-ON MAN!!!" I can't take these kids anymore! Why do people have kids!...

5 minutes later....

"Hey, Clay, this is your conscious... just remember, he's just a kid... Okay, I'm cool... It's all good"

"SPLASH"...

"I'LL KILL HIM!"

5 minutes later, I hear the kid's mom chime in,

"Hey Timmy, it's time to go".

I think, "So, Timmy is the name of the spawn of satan."

Timmy: "But I don't won't to leave my new friends!!!"

My thoughts: "FRIENDS?!!?! THIS KID IS TRULY A MASTER OF TORTURING SOMEONE PHYSCIALLY AND 'NOW' MENTALLY!!!"... Impressive.

As Timmy is escorted out of the pool area, with his mom forcefully pulling him away, I can't lie, "It was the 4th most happiest moment of my life". As for the other 3 moments, 'Another Day, Another Story."

That being said, as I'm chopping away at my pool workout, I still notice those same girls looking at me, and whispering. My thoughts, "Whatever."

As I hear the lovely sounds of the diving board throwing kid after kid into the air, into the water, kids running, yelling, screaming in a sense of ecstasy... "3/4ths done with this workout, then I'm free... FREE!"

And then one of the girls gets the courage to come to the poolside as I passed by, at my ferocious speed of 1'point'3 miles per hour. The little girl pipes up, "Whatcha dooooiin?".

Me: "Aqua jogging."

Kid: "Why"

Me: "It's a good workout, since I can't run."

Kid: "Why?"

Me: "B/c I can't run currently."

KId: "Why?"

Me: "I injured my leg a few days ago and can't run."

Kid: "OKAAAY"

The kid runs off to her friend, to reveal all the information she just learned... "Kids."

As the workout goes on, even the lifeguard begins to wonder what I'm doing. Getting curiously questioned, "What I'm up to"... and oddly, "What I'm doing later" gets brought up.

Questions are answered accordingly.

'Again', the same young girl comes up to me, and throws me one heck of a curveball... Perhaps, THE most random question I've ever received.

Without hesistion she asks, "My friend wants to know if you want to get married?"

As witty as those little kids are, and in the midst of trying to finish a workout... I pipe back, "YA, of course I want to get married! *pause* at least a few times."

The girl doesn't say anything.... for several seconds... "A few times?"

Me: "Yep, at least a few times, it looks like fun!"

She then gives a half nod and runs back over to her friend...

My thoughts: "That should keep them confused for a while."

As I finish up the last several minutes of the pool run and get out of the pool, "I'm glad that's over!"

I quickly dry off, and head out... "What, no funny ending?", "What happened with the lifeguard?" "Did the two little girls track me down as I was leaving?"

The world is left with many unasnwered questions.

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

My First Distance Race, Ever

2010-07-20T23:11:00.000-05:00

I am having a few physical mechanical errors as of now. In the meantime, I will share past running stories:

I get asked these questions a lot, "So, when did you start running?"--"What was your first race ever?"--"What brought you into running?"--"1-10.... What are you?"--"Who is your celeb look-a-like?"-- And "To which gang do you belong to?"

And "Yes", I have answers to all of them:

I started seriously competing the last half of my 7th grade year.

"5th grade"

"All results are self earned"

"14"

"Brad Pitt"

"Thug street 12". To get into the gang, one must first tell me the secet to life, then proceed to beat a rubix cube (without cheating), and 'then' give a full thought out essay on what qualifies you to be a part of our gang.

"If" you meet all critieria you will be awarded a gang jacket, a swiss army knife (now, those things are just 'handy'!), and you will be instructed to meet up each gang meeting, to which, will be held at my mom's house every second Saturday of the month... THERE'S FREE COOKIES THERE TOO! YA!" We will discuss serious issues like, "How far east can you go before you're heading west?"--"Is there a limit on fortune cookie predictions?"--"If laughter is the best medicine... WHO'S the IDIOT that said they 'DIED...laughing?' AND last but not least, "Why do they tell you to smile when you get your license... When you are stopped by a cop you are NOT smiling!?"

What was I talking about?! Did I tell you I had ADHD? ... What!.. you already knew? I'm not ugly, YOU'RE UGLY!... If my dog was as ugly as yours, I would shave it's butt and have him walk balkwards!

Back to the point of this blog... One of the biggest questions I get asked is about my first distance race. I will 'expound' the story here and only here for the 'first' time... EVER!

It was a sunny afternoon in the great month of September. We were at the school known as Holland hall, a private school that is located in a little forest like area/atmosphere. I was a dorky little 5th grade... weighing in at a ferocious 72 lbs, at the staggering height of 5 feet...flat... OKAY... I was a couple inches shorter than that. That did NOT mean, I wasn't a true G from day one.

That day I did not know I was going to Holland Hall to run. I was going to watch a race. Little did I know of the cruelty of distance running at that time... I was primarily a soccer player that was soon to be drafted by team U.S.A. I was also a wrestler, and baseball player, but not a 'runner'.

My mom took to me to the meet b/c one of my older silblings was running in the high school division. Upon arrival, I heard they were having a 'kids division". Kids division = ALL kids 6th grade and under. Well, I was a cocky little punk and as soon as I heard this, "OOOO... OOOO... OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I WANT IN!!!... ME ME ME ME, I WANT IN!!!"

As the race drew closer, I 'prepared'. Tucked in large-t (yes, waaay to big for me, but let's be honest, ballers always wear ridiculously oversized clothes, THAT'S ME), looking around at my comp... I saw a swarm of them... chit chatting away with their so called poor excuses for 'moms'... laughing, eating popcorn, playing with their retarded undersized poodle dog that was called Mr. Jackson, picking noses (one kid ate 'it'), and to what I thought was an unfair advantage, loading up on NOT carbs, but sugar... chowing down on candy... twix, suckers, snickers, laffy taffy... "Damn"... all that good stuff. I did have something my mom gave me, "strawberry gatorade"... And "Yes", I chugged it like no tomorrow.

We were called to the line, to what I estimate 12,000 kids jacked and ready. In reality, "probably" only a couple hundred kids. As we lined up on the practice football field, the course would start out going across the field, swinging around a baseball and softball fields, looping out to several other practices fields, and then coming back to finish the last 100 yards of the race 'sprinting' down the practice field we started on, finishing under the field goal post.

Just for the record, I was NOT one of those kids. By what I mean, "NOT one of those kids", I was not one of those kids that took out sprinting, forgetting that a mile was a hell of a long ways for us young tikes... I knew about pacing myself and had the mentality... a.k.a. 'smarts' not to take off like there's no tomorrow.

Right before the race, the race director stood out in front of the over hyper active kids... "kicking and screaming"... and announced.. "Yes... we will have a rabbit for you young men!"-"Come forth Antonio!" As the director announces this, a young and fit as can be looking man walks up beside the director. "This will be your rabbit, Antonio... he will run right in front of (I estimate at this time, he was roughly 28 years old) the leader of this race and will lead you through the course to make sure you kids know where you're going... he is good and can manage whatever pace". And then the director says something that will legally make my smarts pull a 180 degree turn, going light speed into the land of retardedness.... "Oops", I meant, "Intellectually disabledness". The director says, "Any of you are welcome to even pass Antonio, beat him if you can!" (followed by a cheezy 60 year old man laugh).

"How dare he taunt me! I WILL beat him!"

You know the drill... turn up your speakers... ALL THE WAY... right click this link and put it into another tab... it will be your background music. JUST DO IT!- www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEjgPh4SEmU

BANG! Gun goes off, Antonio is quick out to the front as he cuts forth to the middle, casually running out in front... "You're mine!". As my little legs stride out across the field, I was determined. Shoes chopping into the fresh cut grass, steady, but adreline powered breathing, I ran. Evenutally making Antonio my bitch. As I passed him, he smiled, and even had the nerve to say, "Go get it, buddy". Oh, "I WIL!". I continued to run and put more and more distance on Antonio, was he worried?... 'Probably'. I was one determined kid.

And then it hit. Lactic acid.

As my legs filled up with the body's mechanism for going out to fast, because the body can only hold a sustained pace, to which, the one I was holding, for roughly... 30 seconds.

If you were wondering, "Yes", I was only 30 seconds into the race at this time. Okay, I was more like 45 seconds to be honest.

Legs heavy as can be, like concrete with each stride that I brought forth, stomach churning in pain, lactic acid continuing to build, we made our first loop and were starting the loop around the other practice fields. At this time, I was still out in front. And it HURT, regardless of my true feelings at this time, which included, the urge to run off course into a parked car to stop the pain, I pusheded forward in first. To what I was told, "YOU GOT 30 YARDS on him!!!". A huge line of kids followed. The crowds gathered, people gathered to the extent, that you knew the course, as they filled each side, cheering on the runners. It was like a long dark tunnel, people on your right, people on your left... factored in with how bad I hurt, this had to be hell.

As we charged up a very small hill, Antonio passed me. Half way into the race, he began to put distance on me. The nerve of that guy! No matter, I gritted my teeth and tried to hang on. "Man, never again, THIS HURTS!". As my arms began to fill with lactic acid, I began to taste death. For your infomation, death taste like blood, pennies....and a weird tasting chicken... just to let you know. I began going numb, losing more and more mobility, but still hurting... HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! Starting to become 'dazed and confused', I did what was only nautural at this time, 'run'. Regardless of not knowing what to really think or do, it was only natural. We all have a talent and an ability given by God (Everyone has some talent they are given in life, EVERYONE). At this time, my stock of how good of a runner I naturally was, was dropping. Although, I was blessed with one thing, and that was being a tough little booger. That was my talent. "Lucky me"...

As we were reaching the 100 yards to go mark, a short and choppy stride, coming onto the field/last straight-a-way, to which, was welcomed with the same crazy crowd that was encounted at the end of the first loop. Then, my excitement grew. Antonio... was slowing up... Coming back to life, my young peppy ballin' 5th grader self, thought of one thing, "BRING IT BITCH!" As we came across the 50 yard line... the 40, the 30, the 20... ('He could go all the way!!!')... I tried to close the gap. As he was within arms reach, I dug. Eyes closed, arms swinging side to side... spit... "everywhere". As the giant clock flashes 6.18 as we came through the line...

This will not be a good feeling story, as Antonio had sealed the Victory. Me, the defeated. Antonio casually walked over, no signs of pain, and said, "Good job little guy", rubbed the top of my head and trotted off. I fell to the ground and was grimacing in pain. As time ticked away, one kid came in, and then another and another. All casually walking away to their moms when they finished. I, on the other hand, lay there, breathing in an exaggerated manner, rolling side to side on the ground... "NEVER AGAIN.... NEVER!" I was finally able to get up, only to hurl every bit of that strawberry gatorade I chugged before hand, to which, I also hurled up things that I didn't even know existed... that is ANOTHER story.

Spit still on my face, well past the race, I got up. My mom just smiled and said, "You did really good!" I evenutally headed home and resumed my day to day activities of being a kid.

My running after that race... well there wasn't much of it to tell the truth. I did run a few other mile races come track (that is ANOTHER story), but never seriously got into running for another 2 and a half years... And then it was time. I started to train, and train. Mile after mile, I started to get 'fit'. My reasoning for training so hard at a young age was... "to beat Antonio"... "I want a rematch!!!"

To this very day, everytime I line up in my races, I look around. I look for 'him', where is he?!

There is only so long he can continue to duck me, and until he comes forth, I will continue to train 'balls to the wall', and look forward to the day... the day that I crush him!

One day... ONE DAY!!!

Till then, Another Day, Another Mile

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

2010-07-18T02:47:00.000-05:00

The sequel.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=89VQ7cyfDuc

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

BUSY

2010-07-15T03:12:00.000-05:00

So, I'm halfway through my 3rd post, and it's late. I will have it up by tomorrow (technically today) evening... And I will make sure to make it 'enjoyable.'

In the meantime watch my favorite running related youtube vid (well worth the watch):

www.youtube.com/watch?v=c9f38gME1kw

EDIT: POST IS UP AND RIGHT BELOW THIS ONE: "THUNDER".

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

THUNDER!

2010-07-15T02:37:00.000-05:00

"Yet again" at a new location, and new elevation of 5000 feet. I am not exactly in the rough and tumble mountains that I was previously in. Rather, a ridiculously hilly area that rises in all directions, in which, these hills will raise above 6500 feet in all directions.... Do you know where I am? These hills are also covered in 'dark' evergreen trees... now do you know?

My stay would only be for a few days, as me and a fellow teammate stayed with a 'runner' friend of his, cool kid btw.

As I ran in the new area that had a 100+ mile long trail within walking distance, "I liked it". Today was just like any other sunday, "long run day". My run was relatively simple today, 1 hour out on the trail, one hour back... 2 hours. As I scooted, strided, and trotted along at an easy 7 minute mile clip, crisp air, clear blue skies, a cabin here and there to my right, to my left, and of course, the standard chipmunk out and about.... "Yes", his name was Rodney, he had a family of 9. "Why 9?", I asked young peppy Rodney. Without hesistation, Rodney piped back, "To have a baseball team!... And a 10th is on the way for a pinch hitter!"

Back to the run, as I was closing in on 40 minutes out, I had a couple cyclists pass me saying, "FIND SHELTER, A STORM IS COMING!" Obviously, I did the right thing... I responded with, "Why thank you good sir, I will promptly find shelter."

Okay, that did NOT happen, in actuality, I said, "Cool man" (with a sarcastic thumbs up). "Yes", borderline douche, but I don't like to be bothered on a run. Personally, I just saw the cyclists as "tourists"... one of them had a "fanny pack". It's the 21st century... AND WE STILL HAVE FANNY PACKS!? "Yes", I will continue to rant here... Who still buys fanny packs?! Like seriously... how does it go when people buy these ornaments of... 'intellectually disable'ness'.... "Hey honey, do you think I should get the vibrant pink fanny pack, or just go ahead and put myself on suicide watch now?"

The answer: "MAN UP!"

Anyways, I charged forward and thought nothing of the warning given to me by "fanny pack wearing cyclists." A couple minutes before I hit 50 minutes, currently beep bopping to music on my 'new' ipod, I feel a cool crisp breeze come about. The kind you feel when the weather is getting ready to change... "huh."

As I come over a knarly hill, I see why I was warned to take shelter. A dense dark blue/black cloud, that appears to be coming in my direction... "huh..."

"Okay, this doesn't feel right, I'm heading back."

As the pace quickened, I 'tried' to outrun the on-coming storm. Did I believe I would? "Of course!" No longer trotting along, but throwing in surges, 1 minute hard, 1 easy, 2 hard, 1 minute easy, 3 hard, 1 easy, repeat again and again... trying to make a workout as I attempt to outrun a storm....

BEFORE YOU READ ANY FURTHER, PLEASE 'FULLY' TURN UP THE VOLUME ON YOUR COMPUTER.... "Did you do that yet?"... "You still haven't... have you!?"... "DO IT!" 'ONCE' YOU HAVE DONE SO, PLEASE 'RIGHT' CLICK AND ADD THIS LINK I GIVE YOU AS AN EXTRA TAB AND LEAVE AS YOUR BACKGROUND MUSIC FOR THE REST OF THE READING.... THANK YOU, AND HAVE A NICE DAY... LINK > www.youtube.com/watch?v=8d7OBluielc

7 miles from home, it began to pour. When I say pour, I mean, "POUR"....as the Gods of rain showed no mercy. No longer being able to see anymore than a few feet in front of me, yet rain or no rain, I charged forward... unphased.

Then a new curve ball was thrown at me, lightning. Streaks of lightning came from all directions, striking the earth with an intense flash of energy, followed by a loud, "BOOM".

As the urban legend goes, or what I've heard, once you see a flash of lightning, every second you can count following it, is how many thousands of feet the lightning bolt is away (1 second = 1 thousand feet).

As I wondered how far the lighting was behind me. *Flash of lightning*- "One mississipi, two mississipi... seven mississpi... BOOM!" "Well, I am a 'whole' 7 thousand feet away from a bolt of energy that is 11-13 times hotter than the sun, GREAT!

5 MILES LEFT, *Flash of lightning"- One mississipi, two mississipi... 5 mississipi, "BOOM!" "FAAAANTASTIC, I have 5 thousand feet on the storm. "

And "YES", in case you were wondering, I said all of this out loud on my run... ALL of it.

3 miles left, GPS beeping, "5.02 last mile", "LET'S GO!!!" In case you were wondering... "Roughly 2000-3000 feet in front of the 'brilliant' streaks of bright energy that 'kindly' striked the earth behind me."

With 2 miles left, still having trouble seeing much in front of me, I subconsciously bring my hand up to my eyes to wipe away rain. As I do so, comes forth such a bright flash of lightning, "BOOM!" (So bright, that I can see the light through my hand). Well...hmm... judging by the burnt hairs on my right arm, I'd say, "50 feet", maybe "60"... yep.

As adrenline coursed through my body, soaked completely, I continue to move forward. At this point, that's all you can do. "You move forward". Whether this be another day to day life, work, or in my case, out on a run, you do the best thing you can do, make progress, cover ground, do work... basically... you "Move forward."

As I come upon my last few steps, flying inside the house, I storm in. Soaked head to toe, breathing hard, half covered in mud from the trail... my teammate sitting there on the couch, looks over non-chanlantly as I come in, "Hey man... I think it's sotrming outside...*pause*... just a guess."

Me: "It's perfect."

Also: www.youtube.com/watch?v=muLIPWjks_M

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

Everyone has a story

2010-07-09T02:32:00.000-05:00

After getting in a strong workout, consisting of 24 times 65 seconds up-tempo/fast, 55 seconds jog (with warmup and cooldown-11 miles), I decide to join a fellow teammate of mine on a progression run the following day.

After I got off an 8 hour shift at work (12 for him), we planned on doing a 3 mile warmup, 4 mile progression run being cut down each mile at a comfortable and steady pace. It's early in the season, so it was just something to get the heartrate up. Following that, would be a 3 mile cooldown and a lot of plyometric drills, etc.

Momentarily in a new city, and a new elevation of 'only' 5500 feet... We set out to "do work". As we trotted along, shaking out the kinks from work, and chatting away:

Me: "Yes, I really do believe squirrels are the most fierce (and greatest) animals in the animal kindom"--"Did you know there is now a squirrel that can ski... they can do ANYTHING!

teammate: "Sounds far fetched".

Me: WHAT YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME?!... I WILL SHOW YOU THE YOUTUBE CLIP WHEN WE GET BACK!

teammate: "Why are you yellling?"

Me: "I AM NOT YELLLING! *momentarily pause* YOUR MOM IS A CHEAP WHORE!!!" (...I was yelling)

teammate: *long death stare*....

Me: "I was just kidding.....*long pause*.... she's relatively pricey!"

3 mile warm-up over and done with, it's now time to line up and roll out this 4 mile progession run. A "comfortable hard" run.

And the tempo-like run begins! Wind howling from our left side, a.k.a. where the moutains lay in this busy body city. These mountains had such a shear magnitude, that if you didn't know any better, you would think they were storm clouds at night. As we ran parallel to them, we were just a hop, skip, and a jump away from them.

As we were comfortably rolling along, you can't help but think what draws people together, as friends, co-workers, or in this case, teammates. My teammate being called, "Monte". As he comfortably stided along, a demanding and agressive form, yet with a sense of fluency that can only be accomplished with thousands of miles "in the bank".

In today's world and time, so many people have a sense of "genericnesscy" ("Yes", I just made that word up), people have a stereotypically boring/conforming background in their life, "their story", as you will. It's pretty easy to tell if someone's 'story' catches my eye, because I'll either frankly tell them, or it's just easy to tell. Obviously, only a few people have a great enough life story to catch my interests. Regardless, "Monte's story" starts in a farm in South Dakota, to which, "Yes", everyone in South Dakota owns a farm, it's one of the few stereotypes that holds a lot of truth.

As we came through the first mile in a comfortable 5.30, neither of us laboring by any means, we continued to strive forward. Coming upon a rather large wooden bridge, hearing a loud clanking sound as each foot strike hit the boards, we were unphased and continued to maintain pace as we headed into the second mile.

When Monte was a young sophomore, just coming off a big underdog victory at his state xc meet, he did what he did every other morning that winter at home, "Chores". Now, doing chores on a farm is not the usual chores 'most' people do that don't live on a farm.... it's tough, and hard work, "Man's work". As Monte was doing routine chores, he lost his footing and as he went down, got his foot stuck in farming equipment. This equipment being used to 'grind' up and churn the soil. If you're starting to get where I'm going with this, "Yes", this would not be a 'pleasant' experience.

As the GPS watch starts beeping at two miles into a 4 mile progression run, I take a casual glance at the watch, "5.27 for that last mile". Taking a sharp right turn, continuing onward on an asphalt trail, no one out on the trail to speak of, crossing several intersections, pace quickening, a playground to the left, a canal to the right, we continued to move forward. The pace started to demand more and more energy being put forth as we covered more distance.

As Monte was laying on and facing the ground, his foot and thousands of miles of work was being lost in the matter of seconds. Monte began yelling for help at the top of his lungs. His shoe being ripped apart as if it was paper just being put through a shredder, Monte continued to yell. His family on the other side of his several square mile size farm, his shouts for help would not be heard, except by some nearby cattle. With this shouting, the cattle proceeded to just cause chaos and run off in various directions.

Coming through 3 miles and slightly surprised by the quickening of the pace, "Hey 5.06 on that last mile, Monte". We continued to keep it as a controlled tempo run and make sure to maintain pace. Darting over a road, as the path was connected on the other side, a car coming from the right... "Ya, we're good." As to say, we can run out across the road (without stopping) and they won't hit us. Free and clear as we easily beat the car, we rolled onto the fouth mile.

As Monte continued to yell for help, he did happen to notice a shovel that was within grasp. As he was able to stretch out and latch onto it, desperately trying to hit the lever from behind and turn off the machinery. Without any sight of the lever (talk about being clutch on trying to hit it) as he lay face down on the ground, he would not have many opportunities to try and hit the lever in hopes of stopping the device that was currently grinding his foot into a pulp. As he was going into shock, breathening quickening, heart pounding, blood pumping to the tips of his fingers, and yet, a sense of composure, in effort, to save his foot... leg for that matter and perhaps his own life, he swung back the shovel, again and again, and started getting closer to his desired means....

Just a short straight-away from being done with the progession run, we stayed true to pace and came through the last mile in 5.05. Lightly slowing down to a stop, a short, yet, instinctive handshake following quickly... "Good run"... "Ya, it was... felt really comfortable"... We proceeded to start our 3 mile cooldown run promptly to continue our warmup talk that we were previously having not much more than 20 minutes ago.

Monte continued to swing back, and just as his career in sports was about to be lost forever... and as fate would have it, he connects straight on with the lever and stops the machine from causing any continuing damage to his foot. As Monte lay there, realizing this was not the end of it, his foot would be intertwined into this equipment and there was nowhere that he could go as he lay there losing vital blood.

Monte's yelling was not in total vain. Even though it was only heard by his cattle, it was the cattle that perhaps saved his life. As the cattle made their way to the other side of the farm, it was their comotion that caught the attention of Monte's brothers, so much so, that they quickly made their way over to where Monte was stationed. Monte laying there, half conscious, they proceeded to dig his foot out of the equipment with... "shovels".

The end results being the loss of his big toe, and in the process, having to remend his skin and months and months of physical therapy. It would take over a solid year of strenuous work to get back into solid running form, as well as, specially made orthotics.

A mile or so into the warmup, wind continuing to howl as it hit us staright in the face at this time:

"Dude, I'm telling you, it's my life long goal to become a world champion dog sledder."

Monte: "You do realize they hold that race up in Alaska."

Me: "Alaska... smaska.

pause

"Anything's possible if you want it bad enough, anything."

Monte went on to run 1.51 in the 800m as a senior in high school and currently will be entering his sophomore year in college..

AND "No", I did not forget:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=37fDXX9stJY&feature=related

-clay j. mayes the 3rd

7500 feet elevation and climbing

2010-07-08T02:47:00.000-05:00

First off, I have never been a blog guy, nor do I care that much for them.... Long story short, I am being forced to do this. "Yes", I am being held to gun point.

I will not venture into pointless religion debates, my job, school, or even the secrets to life. This blog will be about one thing and one thing only, my running and my hopes in aspirations of making the Olympic Trials marathon. The route I have chosen is running a sub 65 half marathon (aiming to snag this qualifier in march of 11' at the Mardi Gras half in Louisiana), which is one of three qualifying routes to make the Olympic trials. To my name, I have a 14.16 personal best in the 5k, and as for a mega distance race, I tempo'd a 25k race last Febuary (15.5 miles) at a steady and comfortable pace of 5.18 mile. Would've been a lot faster if I really raced it... that's another story.

Now, that is out of the way.... it begins... "Another Day, Another Mile"

Over the July Fourth weekend, I had the pleasure of staying in a small altitude community, surrounded by numerous moutains, most of which ranging from 12,000-14,000 feet in stature, breath taking to say the least.

It is 80 degrees, and there is no humidity, "Awesome". There is no air, because this town sits at 7500 feet, "Damn".

As I start out on my run, with a slight sense of air headedness from lack of air, as well as, achey muscles from routine tough training... day in, and day out. The town quite as can be, seems to have a sense of what it really means to be a hard working blue collar citizen.

I see my destination that lays ahead, Mount "S" (I will leave my location a secret, it makes for a cool mystery type persona...) After a few miles, my stirde opens up from a 7 minute mile clip to 6 flat'ish' mile clip. My breathing has a sense of 'sucking air' sound... the sound you heard all to much in 8th grade gym class, when fat Freddy couldn't make the damn cut on hitting an 18 second suicide on the b-ball court... "So, Evvvvvveeeeeeeeryone had to do another suicide.... again and again... until Freddy made the cut!" And you know what, he never did. People will do as they want, they control their own destiny. Freddy chose his, and surely, his own path of fitness should not affect mine, or for that matter, poor little suzy who had 19 soccer games over the weekend... "Bless her heart".

Wait a minute, what was I talking about?!

Oh ya...

So, as I'm running alone in the oh so small mountain town, I'm striding along as asphalt turns into an old fashion dirt road and of course, there is not a house, nor a soul for miles on end, "I'm on my own".

As I drawl closer to Mountain S., the road begins to take an aggressive "upward" manner, "it will be all up hill from here"... Well, till I decide to head back home."

As I stride out, each foot strike making a crunching sound with the gravel, sweat beginning to build, heart starts to race, a steady rhythm beginning to develop as I push upward on this tough cookie of a mountain. Everything is starting to ache... in a good way. Yes, to a runner, that makes perfect sense. And yes... we are an odd group.

I have lived my whole life at 900 feet elevation... and now I'm pushing upward and climbing well past 7500... HELP ME BABY JESUS! Roughly around, to what I estimate 9500 feet, my run starts to become very surreal... "to surreal", haha... I begin to wonder if I'm being watched. I can't explain it, but for all I know, and to what I believe, there was a well rounded cougar waiting to prowl. To be honest, it would not be a fair fight... I was after all a star stud'd wrestler in junior high. Let's certainly not forget my comeback westling meet in 8th grade... Another day, another story.

Luckily, no cougar got up the courage to face it's certain death by challenging me. "Although", a fierce grey squirrel did, as it sprinted across my path... "Figures". Squirrels are God's little babies... those things are the most majestic animals that the world has to offer... "Obviously".

As I climb higher and higher, 'my' dirt road turns into a 'sketch' out trail, I begin to dig. Sweat continuing to build, causing a slight burn just outside my eyes, breathing laboring, heart racing and pounding to the extent I can litterally hear it, and of course, that lovely crunking sound of fresh gravel as each foot strike touches down and I power off the the tips of my toes. Roughly 10,000 feet in elevation.... it's time to head back, with a swift 180 degree turn... down the mountain! As I dart from turn to turn on the switchback trails, creating my own wind. I begin to feel more at ease. More-so, when I was 'trucking' upwards. As miles passed one by one and the run was coming to a close, I began to feel the euphpria of happiness that can only be felt from finishing a solid run. A total of 85 minutes at a steady, yet comfortable clip of 6 minute miles on average (at an average of 8000 + feet elevation!), run over. Success.

To note: Later in the day a second run occured, an 8 miler.... Another Day, Another Mile

-clay j. mayes the 3rd