Catching Up

I am starting this post at 6pm Monday evening, when I should have already posted something, and so in that sense I am catching up. I was already planning on writing about how things have been going since Rehoboth, so this at least feels on-theme.

But first, let’s catch up on some recent history. Last week I opened up shop at The DNF, which was exciting for me. I put my money where my keyboard is and paid for a domain name. I decided to take this writing exercise a little more seriously.

I enjoy taking things seriously.

I logged into Canva and designed a logo. I signed up for socials I have only glancingly, or never, used before: Bluesky, Instagram, Threads. I have no delusions of doing the runfluencer thing, but I want to put myself out there in case anyone besides my closest friends like what I have to say.

I’ll catch you up on this past week by saying that I am not enjoying my experience with these new socials so far. These algorithms are brain poison. They are partly the reason this post is so late; I tripped and fell into the infinite scroll so quickly I lost a couple evenings to an internet-induced malaise.

One thing that grabbed me so quickly is the alarming number of bad takes out there. Many of them are designed to lure you in and get you to react, but I think some of them are just bad. I saw a video where a man said, into a camera and with total certainty, that prime Eliud Kipchoge would beat prime Usain Bolt in a 400-meter race because, and I quote, “When Bolt hits 70 meters, he is already slowing down.” As if Bolt would race 400 meters the same way he raced 100, and as if his 400-meter PB weren’t readily searchable in our vast information landscape! It’s 45.3.

It’s not Bolt’s best event, obviously, but to think a 5000-meter specialist who moved up and dominated the marathon for nearly a decade ever had a 45-second quarter mile in him is ridiculous. David Rudisha, whose 2012 Olympic 800-meter gold is one of my favorite races ever, is the more interesting comp here, with a 45.5 to his credit. If nothing else, it would be a showcase of two of the most brilliant strides in all of sport.

If you’re thinking this post is already getting into the weeds, you can see how I only sat down to write this post at 6pm this evening. I will be using The DNF’s social media accounts as little as possible going forward.

Let’s catch up!

December

Aside from running Rehoboth, I spent December hauling around various baby supplies, building nursery furniture, and getting ready for and hosting a housewarming-slash-Christmas party. That was just the first half of the month.

I started running again just before Christmas, with snow on the ground: a few miles a day with drills and strides, trying to maintain some all-around fitness before I went into hibernation with my wife and our new baby. I hit 2,400 miles for 2024, which is a new high for me.

January

My son was born on the 24th, which was incredible in every way. My wife was incredible. My son was incredible. The doctors and nurses and staff were incredible. I was a first-time dad and did the best I could for everyone in support.

Everyone came home happy and healthy, and tired. I volunteered for the night shift and quickly transitioned to Hawaii Standard Time, here in New Jersey. My wife and I learned a lot. So did my son. Even three months in, it’s already amazing to look back on. Life happens really fast when you have a baby.

My running life was far less interesting leading up to that. I was dividing my time before the birth into two days running, one day of Ring Fit Adventure. I ran some hills. It was enough not to go crazy while we waited for my son to arrive, but it wasn’t much more than that.

February

If my running life was boring in January, it was almost nonexistent in February. In the dead of winter, it wasn’t the worst thing to stay inside. Coming off the night shift and back to Eastern Standard Time was brutal. None of it was as brutal as the early days of motherhood, or of human life. This month was intense. I went back to work four weeks after my son was born, and by then I was also running a little bit, somewhat regularly. The search for a new normal was underway.

March

I was in like a lion and out like a lamb this month. With my first taste of regular running in late February and my son starting to sleep pretty well, I came roaring out of the gate and crashed hard. For whatever reason, I decided I would try Canova-style workouts for the first time with almost no base mileage and a mountain of sleep debt.

Here’s how I spent the middle weekend of March:

5mi @ 85% 3K Pace (~6:10)

8 x 200 @ 115% 3K Pace (~33) with 2 minutes rest

Strava embeds do not work without a beefier WordPress plan, apparently?

This on back to back days! What could possibly go wrong? Why not add some hills on Wednesday? Why not try another long tempo run on Saturday? Hey, Dad, how much sleep are you getting these days?

I had to cut that next tempo so far short I walked over a mile to get home. Oops!

Dad Strength is earned, not given. I hadn’t paid my dues.

April

Here we are at the end of April, and I have learned a few lessons. I am sure I have many more coming, but by now at least I am listening much more to my body. I wish I could say I’m not stressing too much over running so early into fatherhood, but old habits die hard. For now, things are working. I have the love and support of my wife, and a brand-new joy in our son, and with a little effort and a little luck we will keep finding that new normal together.

I have a 5K coming up next weekend that will be a fun rust-buster, if I’m open to that. I’ll have someone new cheering for me, so I think my head and heart will be in the right place.