Tag: Nike

2020 week forty two + one

Book Read
28. Win at All Costs — Matt Hart

Kilometres Ran
since week thirty one — 69.8

2020 to date: 2,002 KM

Kilometres Cycled
since week thirty one — 325.8*

2020 to date: 2,163 KM**

Matt Hart is a freelance journalist whose writing about endurance sports, sports science, and performance-enhancing drugs has appeared in the New York Times, the Atlantic, Outside and elsewhere. I first heard about this book exploring the shady side of Nike, Alberto Salazar and the Nike Oregon Project back in the spring, looked for a copy and saw that it wasn’t being published until the fall, and then forgot about it. Then in mid September Alex Hutchinson posted on Outside his Fall Book List and included it. I re-exhausted my usual review copy channels and forgot about it again. But this isn’t about my memory issues (or is it…). Staring down Thanksgiving long weekend on an island away from my Appalachian adventures on XBoxOne I looked for a book to get me through four days of tryptophania, and remembered I hate Nike. I read this in about a day. I could not put it down. I’ve made no secret of my dislike for Nike for quite some time so this did feel a bit like literary disaster tourism, but I felt special anguish for how Nike treated Adam and Kara Goucher. Especially tough for me is what to do with the NOP jacket and hoodie I own – burn them? But they’re so damn nice. I mean, put a stylish skull on just about anything and you’ll probably have my attention. (Except you, UA. You haven’t got a chance.) NOP is the main target of Hart’s book, but the whole of Nike culture is in his crosshairs including, albeit making just barely a cameo appearance, the shoes that changed (ruined) everything. You should definitely read it.

Back at the beginning of July I signed up for the 5 Peaks run / bike Great Canadian Crossing – 365 days to run and bike 4,800 KM “across Canada.” It seemed like a fun idea and I figured that barring some *disaster* averaging a little over 13 KM per day for a year would be pretty easy. After all, on July 1, I was on pace to run over 3,300 KM in 2020, and this was a run + bike challenge. Piece of cake!

Bike ride to nowhere.

On August 3 I was hit by a dumb fuck in a truck (DFIAT) while cycling on the Sea to Sky Highway. I remember lying on the asphalt in agony and asking someone at the scene to stop my watch, thereby adding another 70 KM to my Great Canadian Crossing challenge, which put me at 960 KM of running and cycling after 34 days; 513 KM ahead of pace. For the next couple months I’d watch my lead slowly evaporate 13 KM per day. At the beginning of September my physio- and concussion therapists gave me permission to get back on my bike, on my CycleOps trainer. The rules were I had to be able to get on and off without putting my still ragged body in danger, no weight bearing with my right arm, beginning with 5 minutes and adding one minute per day as long as concussion and physiology allowed. I immediately discovered that bike’s speed sensor did not survive the crash, which meant that my indoor bike rides to nowhere were indeed to nowhere. After each activity, first 5 minutes, then six, then seven, I would get an automated notification from the Great Canadian Crossing challenge congratulating me on my 0.00 KM bike ride and showing dwindling lead on pace, culminating in finally falling into the red on my ninth ride nowhere.

Two days later my replacement speed sensor arrived in the mail, and my eleventh ride on the training earned me 6.82 fake kilometres towards my fake trek across Canada. I would continue on adding a minute each day until I reach 30 minutes and then I thought I’d give my head a shake.

First SPLoop of post-DFIAT era.

So on September 30 I took my bike outside for a couple loops of Stanley Park just to see what would happen because I was genuinely curious to see what would happen. A couple days before I was overthinking about it and got to thinking that maybe I think it’s going to be tough to get back on my bike because I think that I’m supposed to think it’s going to be tough to get back on my bike. And I wanted to find out what would happen in my head. I was mad, that’s what happened. I had a bit of concussion symptoms come on during SPLoop two but other than headache and nausea and ragey-rage it was “fine.” I mean “fine” as in I expected to be really nervous; I was not. I’ve (still) not yet been on the highway so who knows what will happen there then, but for now I’m just mad at DFIAT. And my head hurts. And my shoulder hurts. And my ribs and back and arm hurt. But otherwise….

Physio during a pandemic, or ANTIFA meeting…or both?

I used to be pretty good about posting on here weekly but I haven’t written here or much elsewhere – especially about my recovery – because my lawyer warned me that ICBC trolls will be trolling for any excuse to limit my claim. But he works on commission, so…. Anyway, hi ICBC trolls! GFY! Running is what I really love and miss the most and DFIAT took that away and I’m still pretty mad about it, in case you didn’t notice. And so the orthopaedic surgeon and my GP and my physiotherapist and my concussion therapist all set up these hurdles for me to clear before I was allowed to run again and I proceeded to smash them so they all finally acquiesced. I mean, that’s the story I’m going with. Like the 5 minutes plus-a-minute on the bike, they allowed me to run a pretty strict (read: embarrassing) run/walk program. I set them all PRIVATE on Strava. (Curiously, they all still counted towards my Cross Canada total.) Then on Thanksgiving Saturday I took a break from reading about the dumpster fire that is Nike (see review above) and went for a proper run.

For the past two years I’ve woken up on the Saturday of Thanksgiving long weekend in Oak Bay and gone for a 5-and-a-bit kilometre shake out run before the Victoria Marathon (2018) and Victoria Half Marathon (2019) the following Sunday. I’d been run-walking and hating it a half dozen times and decided to see if I could string together 5 Kontinuous. So I did. It hurt a lot. Recovery from my encounter with DFIAT is proving to be, like this blog post, frustratingly long. I have spent a lot of time thinking about recover and what that really means. I mean, there’s the tangible stuff like, will this scarring on my face, hands, shoulder, side knees, ever go away? Will my ribs and clavicle ever stop looking like they’re desperately trying to escape my torso? Probably not. I haven’t quite accepted yet that I might never get full mobility back in my right arm. I haven’t talked about realizing I’m addicted to pain medication when I started trying to ween myself off. (My GP isn’t concerned, implies it’s normal given the circumstances.) It makes me really mad. A couple days before I met DFIAT I went for a pretty casual 21.1 KM run in 1:36 just for the Strava HM badge. Last weekend I ran 5K in 28 minutes and very nearly died. (Different kind of nearly died.) Part of recovery means getting back to being able to go for a casual 100 KM bike ride after a casual 96 minute half marathon. I am recovering. Some things I might never recover. Others are still a very long way off.

Today a thing happened that should have happened months ago and although it’s Monday and I typically write these by the week ending Sunday I thought I’d squeeze it in because who knows when I’m going to write again. Blame lawyer. No, blame ICBC. Today I went for a run out to Siwash Rock and back. It was an otherwise insignificant run except that I was alive and (ahem, mostly) able to do so but somewhat significantly it was my 1,000 run of all time on Strava and the run in which I passed 2,000 KM running in 2020. I should have passed those milestones months ago. I should be proud of them but they mostly just make me angry.

*As I wrote above, for 10 days I rode the trainer with 0.00 KM credited due to a busted speed sensor. Which begs the question, if I’m counting my kilometres since my encounter with DFIAT, do kilometres on a cycle trainer count? (I think they do.) But what if there’s nothing to measure them? If a concussed cripple cycles 95 minutes on a trainer and there’s no speed sensor to track the fake distance…you see where I’m going with this.

**Following along from * above, beginning with 5 minutes, and adding one minute per day for 10 days, equals 95 minutes at an average 27 km/h (roughly, guessing based on trainer spins #11 through #24) or approx. (you think I planned this but I did not) one marathon. So, since DFIAT my totals are closer to 368 KM, and 2,205 so far this year. But Strava says zero and we all know if it’s not on Strava it didn’t happen.

2020 week five

Book Read
3. Vancouver After Dark – Aaron Chapman

Kilometres Ran
week five – 67.2

2020 to date: 302 KM

The latest offering from Vancouver historian Aaron Chapman explores “no fun city” through its nightclubs. I really liked Chapman’s other book The Last Gang in Town about the Clark Park Gang so I had high expectations for this. For the most part it lived up to them. It did get rather depressing when it seemed as though every story of a live music venue in this city ended with the date that it was demolished and the name of the condo or office tower that replaced it. The book has lots of great historical photographs too. I liked this book. Chapman tells a good story, even though it got a bit repetitious. There’s a copy of his book dedicated to the Commodore on our bookshelf here that I should probably get around to reading too.

Burrard Bridge, Vancouver, B.C.

On Friday, World Athletics released its ruling on the controversial Nike Vaporfly shoes. The decision brought that the current incarnation of the shoes would be fine but they outlined new rules for the future, rules that effectively banned the prototype Nike Alphafly that Eliud Kipchoge wore when he broke the two hour marathon in Vienna back in the autumn. The new rules limit stack height to 40 mm and limit to one carbon-fibre plate (the Alphafly is rumoured to have three). Those rules I don’t think surprised many people. Putting a limit on the stack height seemed to be what everyone was expecting. The more interesting decision was around prototypes. Beginning April 30, 2020, a shoe has to have been available to the general public for four months before it can be used in elite competition, ostensibly banning prototypes from elite competition. I’ll link to the release here. It means, though, that the Vaporfly is fine for the upcoming US Olympic Marathon Trials in Atlanta at the end of February (and for the Tokyo Olympics later this year). The US OMT is interesting because any athlete who shows up that day without the Vaporfly on their feet is already at a significant disadvantage over the rest of the field (who have the fancy shoes). For me, though, this is mostly meaningless. Or so I though until I actually thought about it. I’ve been asked why I don’t race in them, and my answer has always been that I want to see what I can accomplish without them, which sounds all noble except that I’m pretty firmly not a Nike guy and I am pretty firmly an Adidas guy and if Adidas had made them then I would probably have three or four pairs by now. But what I’ve thought a lot about lately is the effect of so many people around me who do wear them and what that has done for the sport. I have gone from competing against myself and only myself, to sort of kind of caring about where I place in my age group at an event, to working towards achieving a particular standard – a Boston Qualifying time. In the time since I started caring about a BQ (a very recent period of time one could call the Vaporfly era) the Boston Qualifying time has been cut by five minutes because more and more people are consistently running faster. It sucks to work so hard and have the goalposts moved. It also sucks to think that even in spite of the disastrous day at CIM in December, if everything else was the same and I was wearing Vaporfly shoes I might have run a BQ. It really would have felt a bit like cheating though.