Spinx Run Fest 2012

 

Spinx, not Sphinx.

I have long been a fan of both corporate gasoline conglomerates and run festing, so this weekend's Spinx Run Fest 2012 was a real no-brainer for me. Spinx is a small southern chain of gas stations that makes a petrol that tastes slightly better than their turkey sandwiches. If you too have been obsessing over my ankle surgery saga, you are no doubt aware that this race weekend followed my brevis repair by exactly 6 months on the Gregorian calendar.

That translates roughly to 8 new moon, "oh craps", on the Mayan calendar. I resumed running 11 weeks ago and was in no way ready for this race. The Big Punkin 5k run/walk was probably a better fit for me, and that only because I was prohibited by blatant ageism from entering the L'il Punkin kid's run.



Speedy Gonzales and friend in skirt.

 

Guess who got back from the restroom line 2 minutes before
the starting gun? Hint: not pictured here.

Not too long ago, my mother and I established a tradition of running a half-marathon together each year. We had previously run this event together in 2010. If you understand together to mean, drive 350 miles to your parent's house, wake up at 5:30 AM, drive back toward Durham to Greenville, SC and then run entirely separate from one another because you had some vague arbitrary time goal. My rehabbing back toward the mid-packers has allowed me a bit more perspective. I was thrilled to have the opportunity to run step by step with my mother again. Unfortunately, she has not been blessed with the benefit of my new perspective and was in this event to race down everyone and anyone she knew. My mom commonly places in her age group and scrutinizes race results like a hypochondriact analyzes webMD. Her long time running partner Christie G, Christie's husband William, and myself were all fair game. I have not been over 10 miles since Uhwarrie in February. I was hoping to pace my speedy matriarch to a PR pace until mile 11 or so and then limp in myself.


If you squint, you can just see her invisible jet.

I believe my mom is a pretty well rounded runner (she was running 5Ks before the training wheels came off my Schwinn). Her major weakness is her under estimation of her reserves. She usually comes out conservative and finishes strong with a bit left in the tank. This time we were looking to come out a little quicker and to finish just mostly alive. This HM has an ugly profile. It lulls you in with 6.5 miles of downhill and then the second half of the half (I guess that would make it a 1/4?) is all uphill. Interspersed throughout the route, a spongy track like material parallels the paved paths that make up a large part of the course. It feels great, but I think it saps a bit off your pace. Think Buick Regal ride rather than Porche performance. Its also pretty narrow and very crowded. Personally, I chose to run with my healing foot on the squishy material and my good foot on the asphalt. Think drunk pirate. This approach allowed me to equally annoy those on both sides.



If not for those meddling kids!

I felt that Spinx adopted the Paul Ryan austerity approach toward race management for 2012. By slashing the pork out of aid stations and the post race table, we almost balanced the SC deficit with savings realized from the Gatorade and water only stops. The 2010 race offered warm grits (which we originally thought were mashed potatoes) at the finish. Its funny what you crave in a race. It was the thought of that hot hominy that propelled me through the later miles. Had I known it was only dry Folsom State sandwiches we approached, I might have despaired  In the spirit of bipartisanship, I do freely admit that the pre-race coffee policy remained unchanged from 2010 for those over the age of 55. Fortunately for me, I appear to be in my early 70s before 7:30 AM and SC does not yet require ID to caffeinate. 


Before Roy Hobbes arrived.

I wore my kilt again for this race. Mainly for ventilation and to shame my mother. This led to a rather urgent chafing injury that resulted in a mid-race visit to the medical tent. I asked for Vaseline. Here again, budget cuts were evident. The volunteers cracked open a beer cooler emblazoned with a red cross. The ice chest was lacking petroleum jelly, but after some brief fondling they came up with a generic KY in a squeeze tube. Hesitant, but desperate I experimented. It worked, but I left in 50 shades of red. My tortured thighs were moving again. If only it had been Astroglide I am sure we could have dropped another 30 seconds per mile. Although creature comforts were scarce, vital medical care was available. We witnessed a down runner receiving an IV administered by medical personnel and the police did a great job protecting the course.

The races proximity to All Hallows Eve scarred up some costumes. The runners and spectators did a fair job of Halloweening. We shared the pavement briefly with some of the Superfriends from the Justice League, a lederhausen clad German fellow, a couple ballerinas  and a few thousand Clemson fans in a subtle orange.



Southern Belles.

Our pacing was spot on. We started losing a bit off of the pace average around mile 11 as mom tired and I ignored common sense and the objections from my left tendon. Just then, I spotted her friend Christie walking a rather nasty uphill section. She is mom's junior by more years than the legal drinking age and has finished ahead of her in every half they have entered. They both conducted themselves as proper southern ladies, curtsying and politely wishing each other their best with gleaming smiles. But I know better, I watched their eyes. Nefarious intent! Christie found new resolve and took off before we had even offered ice tea. So ginned up on the idea of passing her friend, my mom threw caution to the wind and tried to up the pace. With a Herculean effort, I managed to hold her back. We walked the rest of the hill and saved our reserves for the rare downhill ahead. Christie burned up a lot of her remaining energy on that hill and was unable to catch us after we finally passed her about a quarter mile later. A casualty of the high temperature and humidity (and my brilliant pacing), we crossed the finish 59 seconds ahead of mom's running partner. Christie's husband was rumored to have prepared for this race with a long run approaching 6 miles. He finished further back. I don't know how he found the reserves in those temperatures.



Mama's boy.

My favorite part of the Spinx race, the finish includes a quarter mile dash around the outfield of Fluor Field. The home of the AA  Greenville Drive baseball team. As you enter from right field, your image is projected onto the jumbotron. Slightly more devious than my mother, I entered on the inside loop and was announced over the loud speaker, "Ryan McCarty from Durham NC." My mom may still be vexed that I stole her thunder. She prevailed in the end. Drunk on glory and Gatorade, my mother charged through me like a base-runner trying to beat the throw to home plate, as I tried to snap a finish picture (honest). She finished in 2:27:38. One full second ahead of me. A second that I am sure will quickly morph into minutes then months over each re-telling until we meet again next year. I enjoyed every second we had together, except for the last one which I obviously ran by myself. I may have to Tonya Harding her until she gains my own enlightened Mahatma Ghandi socialistic running perspective.




Best costume made of small children.






Call it a foul tip.



 

Dad's post run recovery routine. 1st time my 
upper body was sore post race.





Elvis sighting.








diatribeTwentyseven

Oops! ...I Overdid It Again

LIGAMENT SPEARED LYRICS

"Oops! ...I Overdid It Again"

yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch 

I think I Overdid it again
I made you believe you could fully bend
Extremity
Running seems like a rush
But my limb is just not serious
Losing all common senses
Establish trigger points to plague me
Oh leggy, leggy

[CHORUS:]
Oops!...I Overdid it again.  Stressed my collagen, fear I am maimed,
Oh leggy, leggy
Oops!...You're repaired kind of,

Not ready for trail gloves.

Your too easily spent.

You see my problem is this
Foam rolling away
Wish piriformis, could truly stretch
Cry from nagging torment
Palpable nodules afflict in many ways

Losing all common senses
Establish trigger points to plague me

Leggy, oh

[Repeat CHORUS]

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch

"Aspirin"

"Muscle, before you spasm, there's deactivation to have"

"Oh, it's beautiful, but wait a minute, isn't this...?"

"Yeah, yes it is"

"But I thought its a week till the Spinx half-marathon in Anderson"

"Well leggy, I bent down and stretched for you"

"Oh, you shouldn't have"

Oops!...I Overdid it again, your not smart

Got lost in Medoc, oh leggy

Oops!...You try to treat me with kid gloves

I'm not that flexible.

diatribeTwentysix

Medoc Trail Marathon and 10 Miler 2012 Review

Stop eye-balling me.

5 months 2 weeks post surgery, and finally, a race review. But first, a tangent. I ran the Medoc marathon option last year in peak shape, but missed two gel intakes and suffered a 29 blood sugar near mile 14. I wandered off course and ran face first into a tree. My bib  trail name "Hypo Hazard" proved more prophetic than farcical. After inhaling 150 carbohydrates in gels, I slumped on a stump for over 30 minutes fighting the urge to go toward the light. I don't remember much of the final 12 miles, but I did finish. My sub 4 hour goal unrealized, I crossed the line around 4:45. Completely exhausted, it took me over an hour to summon enough energy to drive myself home. You would think such a bonk would leave Medoc permanently on my naughty list, but despite the near death experience, I really enjoyed last year's race. It felt befitting to use the site of my biggest blow up to relaunch my running return. So, enough background, after months of cut open ankle photos, nude ellipticaling, and prologuing; a race review. 

Medoc decoy.

Medoc Radio.

Medoc night-light.

Medoc Trail Races are unique in that they offer group camping as part of the festivities. This presents a real devil's bargain: Do you wake at 3 AM and drive from Raleigh (or farther) into the middle of nowhere? Or do you gain an extra hour of sleep by driving from the nearest hotel with indoor plumbing? Of course not, you camp. For those that find fold-out sofa beds sinfully luxurious, the lost art of camping may be for you.

Sage advice.

For you carbo-loaders, there is also a dinner option. As the T1 diabetic envoy, I had respectively declined this offering. The menu was too carbohydrate rich for me, consisting mostly of pasta complimented with sides of Applebees. "Eatin' good in the neighborwoods." 

Four group camp sites were offered this year without restriction. If you can find a piece of ground big enough for your tent, its all yours. A word of warning for future 

racers, campsite 3 is the social campground. I pitched my tent in prime real estate while it was still light outside and relatively rural in the community. I was close to the fire pit, the showers and my truck. Wise in the ways of Medoc camping, Jim and Jade Wei made an impromptu visit for a little fireside camaraderie, then smugly returned to their secret private campsite, rumored to have both Egyptian cotton linens and a flat screen television. By 11 PM, the ravers, hippies and hooligans had turned campsite 3 into a discotheque, complete with laser lights, tweekers, bar brawls, and I suspect, sexual malfeasance of some sort.  

No Wei. Way! Party time. Excellent.

The race organizers had stopped by with warnings of the latest MEDOC sightings. Luckily, a guitar and a budding vocalist, kept the mythical beast at bay. Obscure folklore dictates acoustic renditions of Katy Perry's compendium lull the savage Medoc. After enjoying the fire, a beverage (Thank you Tennessean Steve Stout, master of both fire and spirit), but before the youths had organized a Gangmam style flash mob, I retreated to the shelter of my truck. The flimsy membrane of my tent was no match for jacked up whipper snappers and an aerial blitzkrieg of falling tree nuts. 

With all of the seats down, the maximum 64 inch cargo hold offered by my Ford Escape fit my 68 inch frame like a hot dog in a hamburger bun. Although stuck in a fetal position, I felt secure in my Medoc resistant fortress. The falling tree nuts made a tranquil gonging as they hit the top of the metal roof, which proved an easy melody to drift off to sleep. The 40 degree temps and 5 degree tilt of the laid down seats made for an ideal shelter. If you have the chance, just do it. Running a trail marathon is a challenge to brag about. Running a trail marathon with a hideously contorted body makes you a special 

breed of idiot. 

Race morning Medoc sighting.

I hope this includes insomnia and rheumatism.

This year my surgeon gave me the green light on the 10 mile option, assuring me everything would be fine as long as I did not twist my ankle. Easy enough on a trail run. I targeted 12 minute miles. In an attempt to avoid any competitive stupidity, I started at the very back of the pack. I was still struggling with removing my sweat shirt after everyone else had cleared the start. I finished my last swig of coffee and lumbered off.

The 10 mile race starts 30 minutes after the marathoners and has about a mile of out and back on the roads to prevent trail pile ups. I had forgotten the NB MT101's I had planned on running in, and was forced to wear my new pair of Merrell Trail Gloves. I am still pretty new to zero drop shoes on the road, so I stayed on the grass shoulder. This helped govern my pace to a more doctor recommended speed. I maintained this reasonable approach for a remarkable 20 minutes, before succumbing to my inner bunny. The sensation of racing trails again felt so good, I immediately disregarded common sense. A dead Garmin 305, left me data-less and more susceptible to reckless behavior. 

Shhh! Linda hears Medoc coming.

I was fortunate to catch Linda Banks around mile 3. She was yet to warm up, as this 10 mile trail race is about 90 miles short of her usual endeavors. We seam to run a lot of the same races, and after a 6 month hiatus it was encouraging to run with a familiar face. We stayed together for a few miles until she tired of my company and faked a shoe tie. 

Deanna Ramse finds the finish.

Near mile 5 I made a new friend and then stalked her. Deanna Ramse, also began with a measured start, before upping the pace at the half way mark. I latched on to her and after having failed to shake me over the next mile, she acquiesced to formal introductions. We did drift apart occasionally as she keeps a pretty consistent pace and I still love to fall down hills. But for the most part we stayed together. We pushed each other, and I ended up finishing much faster than 4 out of 5 doctors agree to be reasonable. We passed quite a few runners over the last 3 miles and I would guestimate a well below 9 minute mile pace.

Beats rehabbing by a dam site.

Two miles over my longest post-surgical run, I was fading as we approached the end of the trail. I could hear the crowd at the finish near the top of the hill and slowed to a walk to gather my reserves, so as to look cool in front of the cheering spectators. I had gained a few steps on Deanna, and softie that she is, she encouraged me on with a tap on the back and a "your almost there." I promised her I would catch up. Spurred on by the siren sounds of the crowd, I let her accelerate toward her certain destruction. Little did she know that at Medoc when you exit the trail and hit the greenway, the finish is still 2 dogleg rights away. I started running again, before the people could see me, and kicked at the first right turn, leaving about 200 yards. What some call dirty pool, I call prior Medoc experience. I was able to catch Deanna, as promised, and pass 2 runners less then 25 feet from the finish, jaunting me into the 23rd place of 25 in my age group. I ended up with a 10:48 pace average, well bellow my target, and just fast enough to feel slightly recovered. 

Top 3 overall.

I finished in time to see the specter, Tim Surface, finish the trail marathon in an unholy 2:41:01. A new Medoc record. Running friend, Dan Bedard, (more like post run drinking cohort, as he runs faster than I bike) finished in 3rd and invited me back to the group campsites for refreshments. We were joined by 2 of the age group winners from the 10 miler. I took this rare opportunity to learn the secrets of the fleet of feet. They were all tired and unobservant so no one noticed that I was not an indoctrinated member of their speedy tribe. They spoke freely. Unbound by their secret by-laws and rituals, I will now reveal their 3 core tenets. 

First their recovery is fueled by pickles and hot peppers. To date, the USATF, is unable to effectively drug test for any of the major pickled products.  Their second secret is a recovery beverage dubbed PBR (my guess is Probably Beer Really), a substance I was unable to positively identify as it was shielded by a red plastic cup. The third principle, "Run faster". This mantra covers both training and racing. After this is fully understood (a process that takes many years), students of the quick, graduate to "Don't slow down". 

Bling.

My blood sugar finally dropped to refueling levels, so I headed back to the pavilion to greet the finishers I knew and eat normally  forbidden foods. In addition to the usual post-race fare, the volunteers offered a great rice and beans with plenty of salt and bags of cheerios, candy corn and peanuts labeled Medoc mix. I appreciated the gallons of hot coffee too. Medoc takes pride in being a race by runners, for runners and uses the novel approach of spending entry fees on those in the race. Nice shirts, good eats, and this year's surprise finisher's swag was a Medoc branded Nathan hand held water bottle. The finisher medals looked spectacular. One of the three best races in the triangle area. The trails are moderate and the support is top notch. Thank you for another great race Medoc team.

Scott Lynch adds to my Napolean comlex with his full
sized marathon finisher's medal.

I watched a lot of my old compadres finish the full over the next few hours. All of whom are looking very fast from my perspective. I am close to being compatible for a long slow run with some of them, but I have a good ways to go to regain my former millage. I experienced a lot more of this race than I usually do. It was a privilege just to run it, and my new status, as born again newbie allowed me to just take it in. I was not caught up in shaving seconds off my mid-pack pace. I just enjoyed the gift of a beautiful day at a terrific race with some great peeps. I have never had a better pre-race stomach. I briefly considered kimchi for breakfast. Its going to be a long while before I surpass my old speeds, and I could not be happier.

Brandy Burns trail rash.

On a scale of 10, Linda 's knee  pain is 3.141592653589.

Steve, Jim, Ryan.

Brandy's Medoc impersonation.

Susan makes me glad I stopped at 10.

Its hard work staying this pretty, but hot
showers post-race  are a big help.

6 months post surgery.

Pic stolen from Facebook.

diatribeTwentyfive

Keeping up with my Mom, almost

The genes are similar, but my facial drag makes this match-up unfair.

Surgery +23 weeks. My mother came to visit me for her birthday this weekend. She pretended that a visit to my house would be relaxing and a nice break from the daily hustle of work. She said she missed me and had not visited for awhile. I know better. She came to run me into the ground. She came for payback. I talked her into the Camp Croft trail 1/2 marathon for our annual race in 2011. She trained on sidewalks in South Carolina and I trained in Umstead on Company Mill trail. She had never run single track and I let her run it in street trainers. We scouted the course the day previous to the race and found a lovely park trail 3 feet wide and paved with bunny fur. I assured her it would be fine. I helped her calculate her pace. We were conservative and targeted for a time 10 minutes faster than her most recent street 1/2 marathon PR.

Just fun.

The Camp Croft 1/2 start ran right past the bunny fur lined trail and dumped us on a bridle trail last maintenanced before I made the switch to solid foods. As soon as I decided she would be ok on it, we switched to non-stop singletrack cut into a mountain, imported specially for the race. My mother's training had peaked at a 14 mile long run 3 weeks prior on a sidewalk tracing HWY 81. Near mile 1, and with large unblinking honest eyes, I told the sweet woman who gave birth to me that she would be fine. That race almost broke her. At the finish, she looked a little like Rocky after 15 rounds with Apollo in the first film. She finished on will power and had nothing left in the tank. She had IT Band issues for months after the race. And just like in a Rocky film, she rebuilt herself stronger and hungry for another bout. She was pretty much back to her normal millage and race schedule when I had my tendon repair.

Just yuck.

As I lay on my back following surgery, my mother montaged. I elevated my foot to combat swelling, she jumped rope. I dragged my booted foot to the kitchen, she moved to Siberia and ran through 2 foot thick snow. Short one arm for balance, I learned to shower with one hand, she did one handed push-ups. I heard she raced on a beach in sweat pants. I know she chased a chicken. I am pretty sure she was drinking raw eggs from a jelly jar. 

She waited until I got my long run back up to 6.5 miles and, then unable to hold back vengeance any longer, she pounced. Under the clever guise of a birthday, my dear mother who dried my tears as a child, arrived ready for her 11 miler in Umstead. We parked at the new equestrian lot and were able to run a piece of almost every bridle path. I wore an Umstead marathon shirt to intimidate her. I made it 8 miles before throwing in the towel. We finished back at the lot and she ran the 1 mile one-way loop 3 times to finish her long run. My mom, who helped me with homework for years, literally ran 3 victory laps as I walked a cool down in the opposite direction. I have 5 weeks until we run the Spinx half marathon in Greenville, SC together. I have decided to beat her. I am going to cheat. I am thinking about using feral Whippets for shoes? Perhaps an ACME jet-pack? If she is the Rocky character, I guess that makes me Apollo. How did he make out long term anyway?

They are trying to resuscitate me directly behind the fire engine.  

It was great finally getting up to 8 miles. It was fantastic to have great company. I love running with my mother. While training, we have talked about the most significant aspects of life and sometimes the most inane. Sometimes at the same time. We live pretty far apart. I realize how lucky we are for these few opportunities and try to enjoy them to the fullest. This run was 65 degrees and nearly perfect. As an insulin dependent diabetic at this distance, I have to pack a lot of gear. And bonus, my mother is a T1 diabetic too. As veterans of handi-capable running we can carry enough insulin, testing supplies, and fast acting carbohydrates to equip a small country hospital in a belt the size of a tube sock. It can get a bit noisy as you rattle down hills, but somehow we still saw 2 deer on maintenance road. We fjorded the water at Cedar Creek. And then read the warning on the other side advising us of the 90,000 gallons of spilled sewage upstream. We shared the coldest low carb beer I can remember after her victory laps. A pretty perfect day, at my favorite place to run, with my mom, the woman who ran me into the ground.

My mom stopped to pose as she lapped me.

We had so much fun, we came back the next day to hike Sycamore trail in the rain. Happy birthday Mom!

diatribeTwentyfour

Yowza Sanibel elliptical review

Fonzy bear proudly presents: Yowza Yowza Yowza!

I find it a wee bit ironic that my first running equipment review is for an elliptical, but I have compelling reasons. Primarily, to date, I am incapable of spelling elliptical. After retyping every red underlined misspelling for the next hour, I expect to place in my age group at this year's Scripps National Spelling Bee; obscure workout equipment bracket. Secondarily, I read a lot of reviews in my search for the perfect elliptical by elliptical salesmen, elliptical saleswomen, elliptical mechanics, and elliptical aficionados. I found very few critiques from a runner's perspective and none from an injured runner, rehabbing an injury and bravely fighting crippling handsomeness. I have decided to fill this small void in an attempt to perfect the internet and to pad my resume as an unpaid, less than celebrity endorser. The site I found most helpful appears to be pretty neutral allellipticals.com as long as you agree ellipticals are awesome.

My Yowza Sanibel elliptical arrived the first week of May, 2012, allowing me to test it for just over 4 months. Yowza was launched with a factory direct business model by a former Smooth fitness hireling. The promotional hype says this allows you to get more value as you don't pay for advertising and middlemen. The advertising part is definitely true.  I found this manufacturer only after delving deep into internet reviews. I never found their products in the stores I included in my search. I quickly discovered that whomever you buy from, your guaranteed to save at least 50% because this industry routinely lists all of their product msrps at double the selling price. I never found an elliptical selling at full price. I think the elliptical sales model may have been directly adopted from an Iranian bizarre. Try demanding the infidel price. The Sanibel model I purchased lists as $3999.00, but is always on sale for $1799.00. I monitored the site for over a month and found the price to occasionally drop to $1499.00. With my purchase, I negotiated with the factory direct salesman. He offered me a mat for the unit and either free financing or a $100 discount. I asked to think it over and called back 5 days later. We agreed upon $1399.00, free mat, 6 months interest free financing and a Polar heart rate monitor that wirelessly links to the unit.

Yowza Sanibel, a medical device for injured runners.

This was a very large outlay for me financially. After reviewing the math, I have to elliptical 5596 miles to get the same value I get from my running shoes. Breaks down to about 58.3 days of use ellipticaling 24 hours per day. Of course, I will have to elliptical barefoot so as not to wear out shoes and increase the per mile ellipticaling price. That is a bit too sweaty and kind of gross, as the their are no drains on the foot pedals, so I will have to wear socks, but I am not including the costs of said socks, because I am bored enough to blog, but not bored enough to continue to do 8th grade math story problems for you. If you are that bored I usually elliptical in injinji toe socks currently priced at $14.00. I expect to use 1.36 pairs over the indicated 58.3 day time frame. 

Not as fun as running Turkey Creek, but better AC.

I wanted an elliptical to help me rehab. After my peroneal brevis repair surgery, I was allowed to elliptical after only 6 weeks. I was not supposed to run any distance for 3 months. I can replicate a runner's heart rate on an elliptical easier than on a bike. And it just feels like a closer representation to a running motion  than when I am hunched over handle bars. The gained 6 weeks were not enough to justify the purchase, but I had also made a solemn vow not to tear any more tendons when I resumed my running schedule. My over trained weak tendons were accessories in the ankle roll that severed my brevis. To this end, I lowered my 5 days per week running schedule to 3 days. I plan on using the elliptical's low impact characteristics to fill the subtracted 2 days. For me it also isolates the quads and the glutes, muscles opposite of the calves and hamstrings that long distance running tends to over develop. Keeps things pretty balanced.

I picked the Sanibel for a couple of features I could not find at this price point in other models.

It is roller-less. I don't want to grease rails or replace rollers. I want to treat this like my running gear by throwing it in a sweaty pile next to the washing machine and then expecting performance after a quick cleaning.

It has electromagnetic breaking. Less moving parts and quieter. I don't want to strain trying to listen to Sonny's diatribe on General Hospital.

It uses a Counter Rotational Core Motion. Instead of 2 arms, it has 2 T-bars that are in opposite cadence to your legs. If you choose to use it your core is assaulted. This motion is patented and specific to the Yowza manufacturer. It could be a draw back if you rely on the typical arms of an elliptical. I usually use the stationary bars with a 1 finger grip, so as to look cool and slightly disinterested when in the gym, like a Frenchman smoking outside the Cannes film festival. I have incorporated the T bars and have almost eliminated sit-ups throughout the week. It works very well.

It has rear drive. To me this feels closer to a running motion than a front drive unit.

Max weight is 400 lbs. I doubt this, more like 300. It feels very stable with my 160 on it.

Features that commonly cross over into other units at this price point include:

ipod doc. I am surprised how much I use this feature.

fan with direction blade. I am not surprised how much I use this. Nice feature.

Polar heart strap wirelessly indicated on display with calorie count. I am a data freak and happy to have another set of numbers to look at when General Hospital has a commercial on.

Water bottle holder to hold my remote control.

16 resistance levels. A lot like Spinal Tap's speakers that peak at 11, it comes down to easy enough, medium enough, hard enough. I typically ride it at 9 and am in risk of heart attack at 13, so it has 3 more levels than it needs to kill me. 

21 inch stride. Even at 5'8" I think a runnercentric customer must have a 21 inch stride. Anything under 20 is shuffling, but does allow for you to elliptical in a bathrobe. 

Digital console. Probably the weakest feature. The display is adequate. It resembles Spock's science console or maybe an expensive Japanese toilet controller. Its space-agy in a 1985 kind of way. I do scan calories, speed, heart rate occasionally, but usually I am watching netflix on my ipod. The layout works, but the blue lights are a bit much.

The always natural stance of an elliptical.

Assembly was reasonable. It took me 55 minutes and only 3 colorful metaphors. Full disclosure, I am a machine technician by trade. Make sure the bolts on the front arms are tight, but not overly tightened. At 236 pounds, your wife must be home to help you get it up the stairs to your office/workout room. The weight does make it feel nice and sturdy and its svelte when compared to my commercial treadmill that weighs in at 383. Components are steal and powder coated. Its footprint is reasonable and I think it would fit in a standard room with a queen sized bed. It has handles and two front wheels making it easy to move around. It is the sexy color of a hospital bed which allows it to fade into the background and not outshine the Norfolk Pine in the corner. I had an issue with an overly tight bolt and contacted customer service. It took almost 3 days for me to get an email response. The phone technician was efficient, which is to say he was helpful without mentioning the weather. They offered to send another bolt and receiver if the instructions they emailed did not fix the issue. (the instructions worked)

I like to open the windows and elliptical nude. Keeps the gangsta rap down outside as nobody will voluntarily park in front of my house. If over 18 click link for uncensored version.

I am pretty sure I got one of the best deals available to the private consumer with this elliptical (which I still can not spell without a red underline). I also considered the Sole E55, Smooth CE 8.0LC, and the Precor refurbished commercial units. Anyone who appreciates the stability of running while intoxicated after a head injury will value an elliptical. If you are honestly considering dropping near 1500 greenbacks for a low impact hamster wheel, this one will not disappoint you. On a personal note, I now use it routinely to bring down any unexpected blood sugar spikes after dinner. Even on a long run day, the 20 minutes required to bring down a spike is not too hard on already spent legs. I find that on any elliptical my feet routinely go to sleep after an hour. I have avoided this by limiting my exposure to 59 minutes at a time. Go buy one, or go buy 14 pairs of Merrell Trail Gloves, or 1400 McDouble cheeseburgers.

diatribeTwentythree