Tuesday, April 6, 2010

It's Hard To Be Civil When Discussing a Kankle Run

A young firebrand from Freehold, New Joisey — skin like leather, diamond-hard look of a cobra, name of Bruce Somethingorother — once noted the difficulty of remaining meaningfully pious in an urban environment.

Well just as it's hard to be a saint in the city, so it is to remain civil and genteel while discussing a 5 a.m. kankle run. It is indeed impossible to find anything nice to say about a kankle run other than that it ends, eventually. And this morning's is over.

I strapped the 10-lb weights on my ankles a little too tightly this morning and knew it about 2 miles into the run because there was some definite rubbing going on with each ankle; I debated the advisability of stopping and re-adjusting the weights, but knew I'd be unable to re-kick start myself and would just end up walk-running the rest of the way — then, in all likelihood, cutting the whole run short. So I just gritted my teeth and ran through the discomfort. I suspect this is the same maximum level of pain that SteveQ would be able to endure ... if he were a dainty 6-year old girl. As a man, SteveQ, I think, would have kept running until he was left with nothing but footless kankle-nubs at the ends of his legs, a fact I note with all due civility and gentility, while tactfully avoiding any discussion as to what, if anything, this reveals about the state of his sanity.

I myself still had ankles and feet when I got back from my run; but the right ankle has a bleeding blister on it (blood has soaked through the sock, but just barely) and the left has a less severe non-sanguinary blister. Both will probably need a bit of attending to after my morning shower.

My ankles are a little less used to running with weights because I decided a while ago that I needn't do weekly kankle runs — fortnightly runs would be sufficient. And that means that I won't have to do another kankle run for two whole weeks; to which I say Woo! and Hoo! I have no idea what, if any, benefit there is to kankle runs; I thought they might help strengthen my knees, both of which have suffered from tendinitis at various times and have forced me, on two separate occasions, to stop running while they recuperated. I have not had any problems of that sort since starting the kankle runs but I am well aware of the post hoc ergo propter hoc causation fallacy, so I will refrain from definitively attributing my improved knee situation to the kankle runs.

I will note, though, that my legs always feel much lighter during the first few runs after the kankle run; and it seems much easier for me to run at a slightly faster pace. And I did manage to PR by nearly 20 seconds in a 5K race this past weekend. I am stopping short of asserting cause-and-effect here. I merely note this anecdotally. Make of it what you will.
The numbers on this morning's Kankle Run: 4.24 miles in 41:55 for a 9:54 pace. This is the first time in the history of Kankle Runnage that I have managed an average pace of less than 10 minutes per mile. I managed a 10:11 pace last month.

Of course, honesty and my Long-Standing Policy of Full Disclosure compel me to note that one of my ankle weights has sprung a leak and the sand in that compartment of that weight has all but run out. Making it more an 8-pound weight.

Time to buy new ankle weights.


  1. Well, because you're being genteel, I have to be the one to point out my manhood's been questioned, as I stopped in a race with a mere torn muscle. How embarassing.

  2. You run with 10 pound weights on your F-ing legs?!

    Maybe if one had real man legs instead of bird-like stilts one would not need to have to add weight.

    And by "one" I mean you, certainly not my built-like-a-brick-shit-house ass.

    I am just saying...

  3. I'm still looking for the guy that told Bruce Springsteen he could sing. Perform, yes. Sing, no.

  4. I thought I'd marked my turf over on this post, but Blogger seems to have eaten my comment.

    It couldn't have been that fantastic of a comment, because I can't remember what I'd said.