Losing a Child to Texting and Driving

Ruth and I have three kids. The oldest, Alex, drove from Dallas to Phoenix yesterday for work, in the new SUV his employer had just bought for him. Our eighteen year old daughter Valerie tiptoed into the house at 2:19 this morning. And our afterthought, who at four years old has aptly renamed himself "Sonic" after the speedy energetic cartoon hedgehog, and requires that we still keep foam taped around the corners of the pointy furniture, is fortunately still asleep so I can begin to write this.

Some situations, like a thousand miles drive in one day,  inherently raise enough red flags that we'll caution them of all the potential perils we can anticipate; if you're sleepy, stop and rest, don't follow too close, don't dawdle in El Paso, don't text while driving, sun glare could be an issue toward sunset, use your cruise control, etc. One's daughter being a passenger in a teenage boy's car on a Saturday night can make it hard to get to sleep. Make sure you driver looks both ways before crossing 287 even though the light is green, watch our for drunks on the road, don't hurry to get anywhere, and on and on. I try to limit my words of caution, hoping they exercise their own good judgement and also thinking that if I say too much they'll tune me out. But they still even need to be reminded to brush their teeth, so I persist. Both of them obliged me by dutifully accepting the cautions, today. Today, I didn't get the "yes dad, OK dad, enough dad". For once they understood my concern; the reality of the dangers had just hit too close to home.

When Valerie was in second grade she quickly became best friends with a new girl at her school. It seemed they recognized a kinship in one another. At that age they looked alike and acted alike. And although in Ruth's family the kids weren't allowed to andar de casera, Valerie soon had playdates at Chloe's house and before long, after getting to know the parents, we were even comfortable with her going there for sleepovers. I looked forward to picking up Valerie at Chloe's house just for the few minutes of conversation with the parents, with whom I also felt a kinship. Happy, rational, and considerate parents raise happy, rational, considerate children. Chloe and Valerie would always take advantage of our free association conversations to have another twenty minutes or more of play together.

It was easy to allow a sleepover there. Steve and Sharon were balanced, experienced, tuned-in people. They retired rather young, I presume for having done everything right, and weighed their choices of the best places in the country to raise a family. Once deciding on Boulder, they researched schools and bought a house in the neighborhood of the highest rated elementary school. Our kids went there because the school was not far from the apartments we happened to live in at the time Alex started kindergarten; although Steve and I were close in age, I was barely embarking on a career after years of aimlessness while he was enjoying stay at home parenting. A few years later Alex started going with Valerie to their house to play a fantasy game the girls had invented with Chloe's older brother Alex, who was the same age as our Alex and a gentle and sweet soul that Ruth imagined one day as a suitable boyfriend for Valerie. The game somehow incorporated every game piece from every game they ever owned, every figurine, toy vehicle, block, Lego, etc. that the four kids had accumulated since their infancy. It was such a beautiful innocence contrasted to the hardened early teens I see at the alternative school where I work, some of whom may have already wrestled with drug addiction, experience unspoken abuses, given birth, been abandoned, etc.

Valerie and Chloe continued on to the same middle school, but logistics and interests would take them to high schools that were in opposite directions, and the bonds weakened.  They continued to stay aware of each others' lives to some extent through occasional texts and Facebook postings, but the magical childhood was over. I missed the easy engaging friendship with the parents. Ruth and I often mention that we should give them a call but between work, extra work, house and yard work, and chasing "Sonic" around it always becomes something that doesn't get followed through on. Ruth has run into them a couple of times and it's the same with them; they've wanted to reach out to us too.

Three days ago Sharon did call us; their Alex had been killed in an auto accident. He was texting, drifted into the oncoming lane, over-corrected and flipped the car. We are deeply anguished, for Alex's loss of himself, for his family's loss, for the loss of a sweet child that we knew. I feel a certain survivor's guilt knowing that it could have just as easily been our Alex, who I'm sure has answered an inane text while behind the wheel and just happened to have the good fortune of not having compounding circumstances leading to catastrophe. A photo of their Alex's iphone with his last brief text, unfinished in mid-word appeared in the newspaper, on television, and in social media. Steve and Sharon, caring people that they are, wanted to increase awareness of the danger of texting and driving. They let the image be seen, hoping to save the lives of others and the grief and pain that they will feel forever.

A life may already have been saved; I may not have been compelled to call our Alex with words of caution, risking him feel like I treat him as I might his four year old brother. There are high risk activities such as drinking and driving or street racing that are dangerous, and seem dangerous that responsible kids won't do. The other day I heard that one quarter of either auto accidents or auto fatalities (I don't recall which) are now attributed to cell phone distraction. Part of the problem is that while driving at excessive speeds and drinking and driving clearly are dangerous, driving and using a cell phone doesn't seem that dangerous. Driving a car can seem fairly easy once one gets the hang of it; basically, you sit there with your hand on the wheel barely moving it. Talking on a cell phone or texting are simple activities. Kids and adults do it all day long; cell phone seems an extension of a young person's hand these days. But combined, these two simple activities become a danger greater than drinking and driving or street racing, because unlike those activities which are clearly dangerous, there is an illusion of the absence of danger, which makes it even more dangerous. My son could be at a friend's house, offer to buy some soft drinks, and on the quick trip to the 7-11 receive a text while the phone is on the seat next to him asking him to pick up some chips too, glance at it briefly while covering 60 or 70 feet not looking at the road, and even more distance while answering, "sure, no problem". Nothing happens, but it's Russian roulette. Alex may accept my words of caution before a long trip, but I can't warn him every time I think he may make a quick trip to the store. It's also difficult to convince him child not to play Russian roulette with a gun he perceives as unloaded, as not even a gun, reinforced by the fact that every time he's pulled the trigger nothing has happened. I want my 22 year old to learn from his own experiences, but I want him to learn and live. I may have modeled undistracted driving to him, but I probably modeled distracted driving as well. Reminding him not to text and drive, (and I don't really know if it's something he's done or would do or does) probably has the same impact of all the times I said,"you might want a jacket." The texting-while-driving gun shouldn't have to kill a childhood friend for one to not pull the trigger.

Our mirror family, as Alex referred to our friends as, is suffering immensely at the loss of a precious member. We are suffering with them, for them. We all also recognize that the loss of their son, their brother, is the loss of our son, our daughter's brother, and for our son, himself. We harbor the guilt of survivors. We know that the happiest people we knew, the best parents we know, the parents any couple could look to as a model to be, the family that my son saw as our mirror family, that will now always carry an emptiness that can never be filled and broken hearts that will never mend, could easily have been us, could easily still be us.

Running and Pain and my Comfort Zone

This month's edition of Runner's World has an article entitled "Hurts So Good" in which the author talks about the runner's relationship with pain, his own dance with pain as a runner, and weaves in his son's bouts with pain and extreme discomfort as a high school cross country runner. I'm OK with perpetuating the mystique of the runner. Non-runners have at some point in their lives experienced some distress from running, whether from a slog through a concourse to catch the next flight, to cut off the ice cream truck before it leaves the neighborhood, or their many attempts to get into shape that were abandoned after the first half-mile jog; as a result they conclude runners must experience pain and discomfort routinely.

I was recently talking with a fellow teacher who used to run marathons but had to switch to bicycling and swimming after rheumatoid arthritis ravaged her joints. She assumed I had a high tolerance for discomfort because I am able to run for several hours at a time. I responded that this wasn't the case at all; I've built up to it. I've just extended my comfort zone. I don't like to be out of it. Granted, I have to push myself on occasion to go beyond where I've been before, but I take very small bites of discomfort.

I've learned to recognize discomforts; a pain or discomfort only bothers me if I don't understand it or am worried that I won't be able to handle it. One of the things I truly like about running is the lack of pain. Something could be hurting on a run, but I either forget about it or natural painkillers kick in and mute it. I can't recall having sore leg muscles from running in the past twenty years. Some might say, "no pain, no gain," but obviously there has been gain; I could easily go for a four hour run this afternoon in which I run a couple of 12% grades gaining two thousand feet in elevation with a liter bottle of water in one hand and a Cliff Bar in my pocket. If the temperature were to unexpectedly be such that I dehydrate and I can't think straight and I have an hour yet to get back, I'm going to leave my happy place. If I survive though, and I find myself in a similar predicament, I will be a little less uncomfortable because I'm no longer facing an unknown.

I actually don't deal well with pain when I'm running if it persists. Most pains don't persist; a couple of times I've had an IT band act up. That was pain that grew and persisted, telling me to stop what I was doing. If I have pains due to running when I'm not running, I don't worry about them. Sometimes after a long run I can hardly get off the motorcycle and hobble to the door when I get home, but I know I'll be good to go the next day. I've had plantar faciitis and Achilles tendonitis that has lasted for months, but I knew that I'd feel better after a run. Of course, that's why the symptoms would last for months.

I know there are runners who go to the pain zone all the time, some embrace it, for some it's a pain that at least they have control of, not like other pains they may suffer in life. I'm not about the pain; I'm about the not pain. I'm about the 50K all above 9,000 feet above sea level with 9,000 feet of elevation gain being within my comfort zone because I'll want to go out for a run the following day.

Weekend Warrior Running

Five months have past since I last posted an entry, which was about vegan running. Eating a dairyless and meatless diet and running have been completely compatible. (I occasionally violate the veganism with some nonfat yogurt and egg whites.) September through May my days are typically busy and they don't leave much time for running. I managed to reach 1100 total miles for 2012, and although it's early in the year I believe I am in a good position to do something similar this year.

Recently, my running has taken the following pattern: On Tuesdays and Thursdays I cover about four miles with a small group of beginning student runners. They are in the walk-run stage but we typically head to a hilly area and I make sure I run all the ascents. Then on the weekends I get out to the foothills near Eldorado Springs and Boulder for one or both days. Lately, I have been enjoying  a run that starts out at the southern Mesa Trail head in Eldorado Springs and heads north, then up Upper Bluestem, reconnecting with the Mesa Trail, continuing until Bear Canyon. I take the Bear Canyon Trail to the Bear Green Trail and work my way around to the summit of Green Mountain and return via the same route. This run typically takes about 4 hours. I had an unsettling moment, when about 25 minutes from the end I stumbled and the light flew out of my hand and went out. I discovered I was in a darkness so dark I could see where the ground and trees ended and the sky began. I managed to find the light and turn it on, but the prospect of crawling blind down such a rugged trail made me consider bring two lights the next time I run trails in the dark.

Yesterday, I didn't hit the trail until 4PM so I decided to do one of my favorite runs that starts on the other side of the road from the above-described run. I take the Dowdy Draw Trail to the South Springbrook Loop to Goshawk to Fowler. I then head back up to the top of the Springbrook Loops and descend via the North Springbrook Loop and back to Dowdy. There I cross the valley on Dowdy up to the ridge where the Flatiron Vista trails connect to Dowdy. At that point I turn around and take Dowdy back to the parking lot. This run was just under two hours and with the days getting longer I didn't even need a light at the end.

Yesterday's run seemed so easy. I cruised on the ascents. There are basically three ascents. The first is about 900 ft., the second is about 500ft., and the third about 400 ft. Even though my weekly mileage had been somewhat low, I think the 4 hour runs with 3800 ft. of elevation have done a lot to maintain my conditioning. Previously, yesterday's route would have found me taking a couple of breaks at certain points, but I didn't even think to yesterday.

Vegan Running

Mention vegan in many circles and people will quickly conjure an image of a barefoot young woman with dreadlocks who's a militant member of PETA. That's not me, although I have nothing against it; I'm a fifty-four year old man who ate a healthy (I should say unhealthy) array of animal products on a daily basis for more than half a century. I stopped eating meat or any animal products about ten weeks ago. I didn't have any political motivation although one less person creating demand for resource intensive factory-raised animals is not a bad thing; we could feed a lot more people if we just ate the plants that could be grown on the land that we use to grow the feed we use to fatten the hogs and cattle and chickens. My motivation to move to a plant-based diet was purely selfish and personal; my cholesterol level had been persistently on the low side of high since certainly before the first time it was tested in my late twenties. The eye doctor even mentioned that he could see lipids; I had fat deposits up to my eyes! Running 40 miles a week evidently wasn't making any difference; it was probably just allowing me to pass more cheese and eggs through my system without resulting in much external evidence.

I wasn't a big meat eater but I found it satisfying, filling and a straight-forward source of protein. Switching to a vegetarian diet wouldn't have made much difference to me. Presumably, I needed to cut out the dairy products. I enjoyed butter on everything. The flavor of many of our meals  was enhanced with tasty cheeses. Although I had been using egg-beater type products for many recipes, there was no substitute for basted eggs to start a busy day. I was reading Scott Jurek's book Eat & Run of which plant-based eating is a main theme during the time that I had my last physical and cholesterol check. It made trying a vegan diet to lower my cholesterol an easy choice over Lipitor or whatever might have been prescribed for me. I still have to wait another month before having the cholesterol checked to see if it has made any difference in the numbers. If it doesn't it will be interesting to see what I do.

Scott Jurek stated rather directly that he felt his vegan diet was the secret to his being able to bury the competition in 100 miler after 100 miler. Many vegans talk about how much better they feel. I didn't feel bad before and I didn't imagine I was going to start winning ultras, but I wondered if I would notice something. I can't say I noticed any difference. I don't feel like I'm suddenly unburdened from a body full of toxins or anything like that. I'm not running farther or faster. I'm not slower. Things seem pretty much the same as before. The foods I ate to fuel up for a run were already carbohydrates, mostly from grains. Meats probably helped for recovery. I suppose beans, hummus, and nuts have taken over that role now. I don't have any cravings for anything like some nutrient is missing. There are some nutrients that are difficult to get in a plant-based diet, vitamin B-12 for example. I stop short of calling myself vegan; I don't like to define myself by what I do: I teach; I don't call myself a teacher. I bought a canister of nutritional yeast to sprinkle of cereals and such. I've also eaten an occasional tin of sardines and I've stuck with popping a couple of fish oil capsules a day. So that too makes me not a vegan in the strictest sense of the word, I guess, but I still think of it as a vegan-based diet.

As soon as I finish this post I'm heading out for a three hour or so trail run. I've had a bowl of granola with almond-coconut milk and I'll probably eat a banana and a couple of Brazil nuts and bring a Power Bar along with me and I'll have good energy the whole time. A long run like that will pretty much kill my appetite for the rest of the day, but I'll have a big salad of greens and fresh vegetables with nuts and olives sometime later. I'll probably snack on hummus and  Reduced Fat Wheat Thins. Black beans would be good too. I've never had irregularity issues but one thing I've noticed about eating lots of fruits, vegetables, and grains is that they pass quickly through the body. It's pretty common to be about to go out the door and have to make one more trip up the stairs. I'm certain I'm not carrying any unnecessary load when on a run.

Scott Jurek, already fit and slender mentioned in his book that he lost a whole layer of fat when he went completely vegan. I've dropped about ten pounds that one would have thought I wouldn't have even had running 150 miles a month. There's more to go though; I can still pinch plenty more than an inch of my abdomen. The weight has been coming off more slowly now because I have found myself eating more avocados and nuts and they keep the fat calorie intake up. They're good and necessary fats though. I've also had time to explore more vegan foods such as rice and almond pepper jack cheese and Tofurky bratwurst and Italian sausage; these are all rather respectable substitutes for the originals and they do contain some fat.

So, no earth-shattering changes. I haven't joined PETA. I have discovered that once meat, butter, cheese, eggs, milk and the like weren't on the shopping list they money for fruits, vegetables, nuts, and grains went a long way. I still have muscle; I haven't wasted away to nothing. I have a rule for breaking my rules which I haven't had the opportunity to enjoy yet; if I'm out to eat with non-work or non-family guests I will allow myself to make an exception or if I am the guest at someones home I'll eat what's offered; they won't have to worry about what to feed me, so, if you want to invite me over for a burger on the grill, go ahead.

Making Diet Changes a Cultural Change

Since my early teens when my sister and cousin Boo found ourselves beckoned from our yard to Uncle Milo's kitchen where he had a large kettle of boiling water, corn on the cob has been the center of some summer gluttony. On that evening that family lore was made, the three of us consumed sixty-five ears of corn rolled in butter and salted. Back then, to eat a dozen ears in a sitting was common; summers of recent history I find myself content with four.

This summer is different. Persistent high cholesterol and the threat of medication to get it under control made me turn to a vegan diet which has actually been rather easy to do. No more cheese, eggs, butter, milk, and meat. It's August now, the time of the year that corn typically matured where I grew up in the Berkshire Hills of western Massachusetts and my internal culinary clock is chiming the alarm that it's time for corn on the cob. Butter is out, and so is the mayonnaise and crumbled cheese version of Mexican street corn that I discovered in my time south of the border. I have found that some of the vegan products I had in the refrigerator make a rather satisfying imitation of the Mexican version. I apply some Vegannaise (a veritable vegan mayonnaise) to the corn and then a little Miso Mayo which helps to intensify the flavor and then I shake on some red cayenne pepper. I have also grated some rice or almond pepper jack cheese but found it's contribution to be marginal. Some fresh squeezed lime would also enhance the experience; I just haven't had it on hand when I've had the corn.

The food we eat is a significant part of who we are; it can be almost as difficult to change as the language we speak. How could a trucker one morning wake up at a truck stop and not have the sausage and eggs with hash browns and toast. When does he opt for the yogurt and granola? It would be as difficult as mustering the motivation to learn Tagalog. Changes are difficult to make, especially when they involve something we have been doing all our lives. Our foods are connections to our families, our culture, and our memories. In many cases though, those foods eventually become stab us in the back, or more accurately, laden our waistlines, clog our arteries, or cause diabetes. People don't often make changes until it's life or death. We need to make changes to our eating routines, to the foods that our children are going to make warm fuzzy connections to and eat whenever they have the chance.

When I was a kid we ate so rarely at a restaurant that I can recall the few occasions that we did. Today, kids might have a meal from a fast food place once a day. What a challenge it will be when it's life or death and they need to make a break from those foods. Can the adults of today make changes in the foods they prepare for their children? Will kids one day crave a tofu scramble or a bowl of lentils with carrots and spinach because it reminds them of home?

The foods of our cultures largely grew out of making do with what was available where our ancestors lived. For most of us living in the United States that is not the case any more. We can eat whatever we want just about whenever we want unless it's a juicy red ripe tomato. And although there are many justifications for eating locally produced foods, the reality is much of the US does not have locally produced foods for more than a few months of the year. Saving the lives of our children when they're middle aged adults begins now while they are children. So buy that bag of lentils, the hummus, the mangoes and spinach. Get used to the almond milk. Your children are not calves, but they might grow up to be cows if the foods they become accustomed to and crave fatten them up over their lifetime.

Scott Jurek Eat & Run Review

I was just beginning to run trails and longer distances when Christoper McDougall's Born to Run put the boom in the trail running boom. I read it twice and then reread various passages over again. I liked the blend of the non-fiction stories with the presentation of the case for minimalist running and the basis for running as an innate activity related to human evolution and survival. I don't remember if I knew who Scott Jurek was before reading the book or not, but I learned parts of his story from Born to Run and other sources on the Internet. I was immediately aware of his move to Boulder, Colorado where I live because I read Anton Krupicka's running blog; Anton was soon writing about runs with Scott after his arrival in town. When Scott's book Eat & Run hit the shelves I was ready for another book about running.

I read the book over a 24 hour period which seemed somewhat fitting in that many of his races lasted that long. He holds the American record for miles run in 24 hours. The book is by no means 24 hours of reading though; it is relatively short at 228 pages and that includes about 20 vegan recipes that appear like aid stations just when you need one. Like Water for Chocolate would come to mind every time I came upon another recipe.

One of Scott's early premises was that if he can do it (be an ultramarathon champion) so can you. I don't see that the premise was supported by the book though. Ordinary people can do extraordinary things when they have to or when forces push them. The reader understands the forces that Scott responded to. The world is full of people who have endured traumas, hardships, and even torments over the course of their formative years. A handful channel it appropriately to guide them to great acheivement, some rise above it to become successful functioning human beings, while many populate our world as the walking wounded medicating themselves however they can. I would agree that most people have the capacity to become physically fit enough to run an ultramarathon and could probably learn valuable lessons about themselves along the way. Many though, are so far off the path that such a challenge would seem inconceivable and much of the youth today find an escape too readily in virtual reality games. I ran a challenging 50K this spring; it was not that difficult in hindsight because I was conditioned for it. It was over by the middle of the afternoon. I was able to go home, take a shower, have a regular meal, and get a good night sleep. Nothing compels me to want to continue running into the night to face all the discomfort that sleep deprivation would bring.

Scott's childhood seem to provide him with the ability to stoically deal with responsibilities such that he had to do around the house because his father was working two jobs and his mother's progressive debility from Multiple Schlerosis which probably instilled in him a strong feeling of compassion. The mantra in the book "Sometimes you just do things." which was a quote from his father in response to a young Scott's distress at doing chores while other childhood activities beckoned tells us a lot about having to endure doing what you don't want to do. It is also implied that his ability to face the physical and mental suffering that come with the territory of ultrarunning came from channeling his mother's toughness in the face of her illness.

The implication isn't that we can all become great ultramarathoners but we could certainly become the best that we can be in whatever we elect to do. And it doesn't have to be our first choice. The suggestion was that Scott might have preferred to play baseball, football, or downhill skiing. Transportation, time, and money nixed those possibilities. Many kids at that point would probably have pouted and have an excuse to smoke pot. He chose to participate in the more affordable sport of cross country skiing. Distance running began as just a means to stay in shape for skiing. What he ended up being good at wasn't even one of his top four choices. He just did something. I read a quote not long ago to the effect of "most of those who are successful were probably good at plan B". He ended up becoming a physical therapist most likely because that was what life presented to him; he helped him mom her physical therapy.

Scott's longtime pacer, and much more talented fellow high school cross country skier and training partner Dusty seemed to channel anger. Rarely does that bring the success or satisfaction that one might seek in an endeavor, but a 30 or 40 mile trail run can certainly be a panacea for whatever ails a person. Scott endured childhood tribulations but I think he felt cared for and loved. Dusty's personality seemed more the result of dysfunction. If Scott believed that "anyone can do it" it's odd that he missed the evidence that his best friend with admittedly more natural talent couldn't get beyond himself to achieve greatness. A person's Aquilles heel can be hidden anywhere within their being.

A major point of Eat & Run is the importance of eating appropriately. Scott documents his slow evolution to veganism showing that he grew up eating like much of America, although he often killed and gutted the meat and fish that he ate as a youngster. He didn't eat fast food until he his own meager disposable income allowed him to discover McChicken sandwiches, etc. It took several years for him to give up meat and animal products altogether, with the impetus mostly stemming from his considerations of how to best fuel himself for extreme long distance running. It has been a couple of weeks since I finished reading the book and I am still eating a plant-based diet. He doesn't push it and that may make the coersion to switch all the more compelling. So much of American ill-health is a result of indulgence eating on a regular basis.

Scott writes about his training, hard work, and research to become a dominant athlete in his sport in a non-agrandizing manner. He recounts the stories of several of his ultrarunning feats as neutrally as if he were writing about a third person. Ultrarunners seem to have a greater respect for their competition than other athletes; they know what it takes to be out there, every person who's behind them is pushing and every person ahead is pulling. Runners who happen along side of one another in a race will likely carry on a conversation until one or the other pulls away or drops back. If you check ultrarunners' finish times you'll occasionally see a tie meaning they didn't try to outsprint one another at the end but shared the victory shoulder to shoulder. Much of Scott's running was in the lead by himself (this detail was lore before being recounted in Eat & Run), but after winning a race Scott would connect to all the other runners by hunkering down at the finish line to cheer for the others as they finished over the following several hours.

Any runner should enjoy Eat & Run and non-runners may find inspiration or at least models for a more satisfying life. I came away from the book with the feeling that if Scott were never able to compete as an ultrarunner again he would be just fine because he has the ability to find enjoyment in whatever he does. If you were to cross his path and have a five minute boring conversation with him, don't worry, it wouldn't have been boring for him.

Finally a Real Run (Oct. 2011)

THIS POST IS FROM LAST YEAR (somehow it remained a draft and was never published)

After 39 days of relative rest to recover from a stress fracture I went for a couple of runs without ill effects. That was followed by a busy week and I didn't do any more running; then I managed to get in a 7 mile hilly run and I felt good. During this same time, Elliott was beginning preschool and caught two colds in two weeks. I avoided one, but caught the second so I took another week off figuring any extra bone healing would be good. Another busy week after that didn't leave me any time to get out. Finally, yesterday I set aside the time for a more serious run.

I rode the motorcycle down to Eldorado Springs and headed out on one of my favorite used-to-be routine routes. The first 3.3 miles are uphill, gaining about 900 feet in elevation. I certainly am not in the condition I was two months ago, but I was able to plod along without any suffering. I did stop a handful of times on the climb to take photos, so there were some breathers built in. Yesterday, October 1st, was also rather a warm day for this late in the year. The temperature at the time of the run was 87 degrees.

The 8.3 mile run took about an hour and a half; I think about a minute and a half per mile slower than what had been the usual. The point of the stress fracture still has me concerned. I can still make it hurt a little if I put focused pressure on it. I worry that once the doctor said I didn't necessarily need the cam-walker boot, that a supportive shoe might be adequate, I became more careless with regard to what I wore. We'll see.