Rage in the Cage

Ironically, this is not a blog about the Rage in the Cage MMA promotion, but it IS going to talk about cage fighting.  As has become a tradition when I have nothing better than watching fighting on the TV while everyone else is out enjoying themselves, I will be watching MMA and bitching about whatever pops into my head.

Not Bitchin', bitching.

Tonight's feature is UFC on FX.  I mentioned it a while back, but the UFC and the Fox networks have a new agreement that leads to WAY more fights being on my television and making for a very happy fight fan.  Now, as all 3 of you who read this on a regular basis know, I watch way too much fighting and I do way too much running.  Last weekend my 2 passions intersected and left me on the horns of a dilemma.

Yep, just like that.

Last Saturday was UFC Rio featuring a crapload of Brazilian fighters teeing off against mostly American fighters.  Now, I know most of you are probably saying "Hey, enough about the fighting already! I come here for the funny pictures and dick jokes."  And you're right, normally on a Saturday I'm more than happy to hit up Buffalo Wild Wings and watch dudes pummel each other until my eyes bleed, but last weekend I was also running in the PF Chang's Rock n' Roll 1/2 marathon on Sunday.  And I had to be there at the ass crack of dawn to run 13.1 miles.

Yep, that one.

Since I had an early morning and the fights were live from Brazil, of course they were an hour later than usual. This brings me to the dilemma.  Go out, watch fights, drink beer and have fun?  Or go home, be responsible, and be ready to run the race?  Naturally my reaction was to try to split the difference.  I hit the bar for the fights and promised I'd take it easy on the junk food and beer, and for the most part I succeeded.  Eating a burger topped with pulled pork counts as taking it easy, right?  (Also 6 wings) But the way I see it, I needed the calories.  Also, shut up.  I did manage to take it easy on the beer, I only had 2 over the course of the show.  For all intents and purposes, this was a successful night.  I was in bed by 10:30 and up in plenty of time to make the race.  I felt great race day in spite of the fact that I was nursing knee injuries from the Vegas 1/2 marathon in December and couldn't have been happier that I got to see Edson Barboza deliver one of the most brutal head kick knockouts I've ever seen, and I got to see Jose Aldo demolish Chad Mendes with a knee.

Pictured: Me, somewhere

As the race starts, I feel great.  My knees are feeling solid, my pace is good, and I'm maintaining what I expect of myself.  About 2 miles in, everything starts to go to shit.  I have to piss like a pregnant lady, my knees are hurting like I'm Nancy Kerrigan in 1994.  I just compared myself to women, and I stand by that comparison.  Don't judge me.

Quick sidebar, Josh Neer has a head full of concrete.  In a good way.  I'm pretty sure he has Homer Simpson Syndrome.  He just got punched in the head and looked like he was about to get knocked out only to rally and choke Duane "Bang" Ludwig unconscious.

Josh Neer's xray.

Back to the race.  I stopped to take a leak, got back on the road, and tried to tough out the knee pain.  I worked through and managed to maintain a pace to finish under 2 hours.  A little behind what I wanted but still respectable.  Somewhere around mile 9, the pain went from "meh" to 'HOLY SHIT STOP STABBING ME IN THE KNEES!" and I had to swallow my pride and walk.  For roughly 3 or 4 miles I alternated running (poorly) and walking (also poorly).  The only bright spot of the end of the race is that I was able to suck it up and force myself to kick for the last 2/10 of a mile.  For those of you unfamiliar with racing, a kick is where you unload everything you have left in your body in an effort to finish with a better time.  I sprinted hard during my kick and passed several people who had passed me at my lowest point, and finished in around 2 hours 5 minutes.  I can't say I'm happy with that time, but all things considered, it could have been worse.  My real frustration is that in December I had a personal best and this month I had a personal worst.  I'm proud of myself for not quitting, but dammit, it sure would have been nice to run the entire thing.  At the finish line, I got my free beer, rested, stretched, and limped my ass to the light rail train after meeting a friend who had a diametric opposite race in the full marathon.

Aaaannnnddd, that's the story of last weekend.  I limped around the rest of the day, shopping for groceries and that's about it.  I just accidentally started watching Dragonball: Evolution.  What a piece of shit!  Seriously, I'm pretty sure I've left better movies in the toilet.  The sad thing is, I'm pretty sure I'm going to stick it out and see what happens.  I'm a glutton for punishment!