Competitive Jerks Racing and Training - 2023 (Read 574 times)

. Came round the park again and pretty much bang on the 20km mark I felt a tiny cramp in my lower left hamstring. I knew it was real straight away, and knew the race was over. I slowed a little to see if I could stop it. Second lap was 49:21, after a first lap of 48:49 so my paces were right. The difference was probably the slow down at 20km. I told Italian guy I thought I could feel cramp and let him pull away a bit, although I caught him at the next aid station. I had a couple more signs of cramp so I knew I was done. I decided to at least have a decent sized workout and decided to run until the cramp came on strong enough to force a stop. I slowed a little to try and extend the time I was in the race. Italian guy also slowed and said aerobically he felt good but his legs were way too fatigued for so early. Saw partner at another aid station and told her I was cramping and likely to stop soon and where I'd meet her. Had half the drink but threw it away because I knew I wouldn't be needing it.

Question: How did you know your race was done as soon as you felt a tiny cramp in your hamstring?

JMac have you tried dry needling or acupuncture? Only thing I’ve ever had was an ankle pain at 4 miles in 2020. Eventually I literally ran through it and it came back at 8 miles. I know not the same as pain at a half mile, but I’m no PT. I assume no MRI has ever shown anything.  Not even a blip of a hot spot.

Hash if you’re going to run Boston my suggestion would be to do long runs with hills in them. Not just little rollers. The hills you want to avoid in a long run. The type of hills you know you don’t like to run, and now you have to run them “with purpose.” Also, plan on being in a very tight group of racers for probably the first half of your race.

The crowded field can be an asset as well as a hindrance. I've used that to ensure I don't start too fast and just relax until the course opens up. That's still a good effort for Boston and knowing the course better now, next year should be much better.

JMac - I'll echo everyone else's comment of "that sucks".
Could it be time to check the opinion of a different PT?
My coach was supposed to run Boston and also had a (recurring) post tib issue pop up just days before the race, so he dropped out.
I'm rooting for you to get past this. If for no other reason than I may need someone to keep telling me not to stick to ultras.
I don't think your approach should be "run marathons" vs "don't run at all", though, but I seem to recall you mentioning that not being competitive would be a deal-breaker for you.

Steve - Stellar approach, and thanks for the RR.

Fishy - I enjoyed your RR as well. Having to start so far back was obviously less than ideal. I'm not sure that you're really selling me on Boston!

Fishy - 52yo - 3:03 = AG 76%  

RP - 39yo - 2:55 = AG 71%

Just saying!

The Boston Marathon

*Jim Carrey voice*

We’re THERE man

At the beginning of my journey into running I was in a habit of picking up hobbies for a brief period, and putting them down. They were fun until they weren’t and I was always finding so,etching more interesting. When I took up running I’d been asked by my wife when I was going to quit running and I said “when I run the Boston Marathon” with a smart ass tone. I’d never intended to run a marathon, and I just picked the biggest thing I could think of short of saying “winning an Olympic gold medal” because they probably had the same chance of happening. As time went on I actually stuck with running, saw improvement which encouraged me to get better, and began to enjoy it. I found some local races, finished a thought muddier or three, and ventured into my first half marathon wanting to break two house because “I’ve heard of a four hour marathon and a half marathon is half that so it’s like the same thing.” I’m sure there were also thoughts about how long four hours of running actually is. I ran the half, broke 2 somehow, and was instantly asked when I was going to do a full. I VIVIDLY recall how painful it was getting into the car after that race, and how stupid of a question I was being asked. “No. Do that, but for twice as long? NO.” Fuck. That. Who the fuck runs for four hours?? Who wants to do that? No. I’ve done a half and that is good enough. I broke two hours. Same thing. Hell no.

Along my journey into running I found local running groups where people talk about races, and trainings. Since I’d never had a running background I would attend these group runs hoping to find people more knowledgeable and experienced with running. This was probably the worst thing I could have for done because I discovered this race called “see I am” (CIM). It was a marathon in Sacramento and it sounded as though everyone around me had run it or was going to run it. I don’t know why, but one day after CIM 2014 I was online and found out it was $100 (re-run special) and was a year out. Since my first Tough Mudder gave me five or six months to train, and I’d enjoyed it I thought “a year out gives me time to train. I’ll do one, just to say I’ve done a marathon.” After telling my wife, and I’ll never forget this until the day I die, she tells me “before we spend all this money to go to Sacramento why don’t you run the one in town?” Well, yeah..okay that kind of makes sense. I mean....hotels aren’t cheap, gas, dining out. All these things we really can’t afford living in an apartment I haven’t thought about as part of racing....yeah I should probably run the one in town. It’s four months away though. That kind of ruins my plan of training for a year to get ready. I don’t even know how to train for a marathon. I’d just been given a Garmin 410 with heart rate strap for Christmas which was a BIG deal. $300 investment into a hobby I’d only done two years? Oh look, they have training plans. It schedules everything for me. Perfect. So I run this one, and every cliche happens. I went out too fast (3:30 pace), hit the wall, death marched, didn’t train well enough (20 mile long run on a 40 mile week) and just “didn’t respect the distance. I finished though. 3:56.  Sub-4 hour marathon I’d wanted because I’d heard about it being a thing and it always seemed like it is a big deal. No one ever seemed to care about a slower marathon so yay me I accomplished a goal. One and done right? Wrong. Once I could gather my thoughts all I could think about was how I needed to figure out how to get better because “how am I going to run CIM in December?” Yeah that’s right. I was worried about the $100 I’d spent being wasted if I didn’t show up.

Going into CIM I found a great group (now dead and it saddens my heart), found a new training plan, joined forums, made new friends, and the heavens opened up to trace me with a 3:23. Now I wanted revenge on the Reno marathon and since CIM was so great the first time I wanted to try it again. 3:13, which at the time guaranteed I’d be in Chicago and gave me the biggest boost ever. “I’m only 3 minutes away from getting into Boston. I just took 10 minutes off my time in a year.” Boston being Boston, and me not knowing what I don’t know, decided to break my heart s week before Chicago and take 5 minutes off your qualifying time, and also destroy me. Next I tried a Revel (big downhill) marathon thinking I could run fast on the downhills and missed qualifying by less than 26 seconds. I was actually happy about this once I left the medical tents because it served as a “proof of concept” marathon. I’d never been so close to ACTUALLY qualifying. I just said that as some bullshit retort to a smart as question but now it was actually within reach. It was also great because even after adjusting times getting IN actually required FASTER times than just a BQ which I never knew. Back to CIM, and straighten to a sub-3 because I was pissed off about the time needing to be 3:02 “fuck it. I’m going sub-3” and I did exactly that. I got pissed off and ripped off a sub-3 to get in for 2021 (later changed due to covid blah blah blah), and since life happened I re-qualified for 2023 because CIM is the greatest marathon ever and if anyone says anything different we cannot be friends and you cannot come to my birthday party. Along the way a friend asked me “so when you get in, how are you going to train.” I told him it was going to be my parade, then later said “I’d probably train the same just so I could show up ready to race in case it’s a good day. Id hate to show up with great weather and not be able to run it hard.” I’d never known how consistently inconsistent the weather in Boston was because I’m a California kid (one of the good ones not fucking up your state when I move there and change it) and weather in April isn’t that bad. I was about to find out the weather on race day wasn’t what I needed to be worried about. It was December through March I needed to be worried about. Thoughts four months I thought weren’t enough time to train for an April marathon in 2015 were the same fourth months Mother Nature decided to provide the Sierra Nevada (calling them “the sierraS” is WRONG) mountains with about 500 extra percent of snow, ice, wind, and “winter” at a level almost no one could have dreamed of. I think it was Mother Nature’s was of putting me in my place after saying “I hope we have the driest winter on record” since I only cared about my training runs. Snow. Ice. Wind. Cold. Pretty much non-stop. Since I refuse to run on a treadmill I was constantly scoping out running paths and hoping there was some miracle the roads or paths would get cleaned off enough to train on. I mean...this is Boston. I can’t just NOT train. In 2018 it practically snowed all race day and people still ran fast. “What are you going to do on race day” became the question I had to answer. “Remember when they said they ran inside? Remember when you said it was too windy?” I was fully “kitted up” with fancy gloves, vests, jackets, beanies, and all the cold gear you could spend money on over the years because I’d embraced running as a passion. I had the training plan (Hanson’s fanboy checking in), I had the watch, I had the wife who understands I’m going to neglect my family to some extent to train for marathons, I had the friend(s) who were willing to go run at 5 or 5:30 am on weekends because “dad life” and I had a desire to thrown down what I could at Boston. Nothing to it but to do it, right? It’s just running. No need to overcomplicate it. So I did exactly that, with snow, and wind, and cold, and all the bullshit of the coldest winter on record or something very uncharacteristic of Reno (new record for longest streak of days under 60 for winter set) but no bullshit excuses. Paths were dried, and if they weren’t I just ran in the snow. I kind of started to enjoy thinking of how stupid the idea of running  in “one foot deep” snow (one foot meaning when I took a step the snow was at or above my ankle) and I just embraced the suck. I was also running some wicked fast times and Pr’d the 5k finally breaking 19 minutes as part of this cycle. Mentally I was ready for race day when training was done. Too bad the week leading to race day would “fucking suck” because my “taper pains” can be summarized by “literally everyone just pissing me off.”

I’m usually really social and chatty. Outgoing and extroverted, and during this time I was beginning to become more introverted. I had my birthday, Easter weekend with in-laws visiting, my father visiting, work providing PLENTY of great training material (I.e. “fuck work go running&rdquo and I’m trying to just relax and chill out before race day. Oh and then there is the flights being late and not even getting to Boston and my hotel until 1:30am Sunday morning. Just like “what the fuck?” the entire 7 days going into race week followed by one of my worst fears before a race happening. Shitty sleep. Just a few hours, and my body decided it wanted to live on East Coast time on Sunday morning. Whatever. Fuck it. This fucking sucks. I’m already exhausted but I’ll get through it and maybe I’ll pass out early tonight. So I hit the expo, seeing some local friends along the way, expecting a bajillion people to be there. It was actually underwhelming. A whole bunch of walking through this massive building just to be embraced by the equivalent of an old school Black Friday at Walmart type scene of people crammed into a tiny area trying to by anything with a unicorn or “Boston” on it with little to no fucks given about any else. As if no one had ever been to a department store, or knew what size they wore. Who the fuck decided to put all the swag up front is beyond me. 99 percent of the stuff was probably available online, and I understand wanting to see/feel/touch/fondle/try on things before buying them but this was fucking ridiculous. After how much OPEN SPACE I just walked through AFTER how organized getting my actually bib was this was a shit show. Chicago has this WAAAAAAAAAY the fuck better. I grab a bag, a few shirts and blow past the jacket I’d coveted for so many years. I blast through the “expo” portion of the race and head back through massive empty rooms of space thinking “why couldn’t they use THIS room for jackets and shirts so people could spread out????” and head out to do touristy things. I’d always wanted to make this a “vacation with a race” instead of a “race with some vacation things” because they’re not the same. As I journey to a touristy thing I see ANOTHER local to me runner and think “wow I see more people from Reno here than when I’m actually in Reno. I did NOT expect that without actually scheduling things. Off to the Boston Tea party area, some lunch, and back to the hotel to settle in.

A good night sleep before the race because last night was such crap should be easy, right. No. Fuck no. My fucking body decides it wants to be anxious, stressed out, doubtful, concerned, and feel extra sore the fucking night before the biggest race I’ve wanted to do for years, one I never even thought I’d be able to get into because of how stupid fast the requirements were, instead of being tired and passed out. Well at least I have dinner reservations for a nice place and it will help me relax to have a nice quiet normal dinner, and it does. For as cheap as I usually am this trip was more “fuck it, you’re an adult and deserve e things” like my birthday dinner (Atlantis Steakhouse) and also a celebration of years of hard work. 2016 was when I first thought I had a chance any qualifying, 2019 is the first time I DID qualify, and 2023 is the time I made the journey to the Boston Marathon and I’d finally get my medal. Just chill the fuck out, relax, and wind down. After dinner the wife and I, since no kids were allowed this trip, head to the hotel bar. It’s packed. Also loud. I just chill out. I also kind of realized how inconsiderate or “dumb” people can be when a guy wearing the 2023 jacket walks up beside my wife to talk to the bartender...

Man: hey do you have a knife and fork I can have?

Bartender: *hands man package of utensils with napkin and straw*

Man: hey can I get like two more?

Bartender: *hands additional silverware man couldn’t ask for initially to msn*

Man: hey do you have a microwave I can use?

Me *laughs thinking this guy is making a joke since he is asking for so much, instead of asking for what he actually wants*

Bartender: *straight faced* call room service.  They’ll bring a microwave to your room.

Man “really? Okay”

Me: *amused thinking “is he blowing him off or is that true?*

Finish up at the bar, head back to the hotel and embrace the suck that will be tomorrow. Just get a good night of sleep. Maybe watch some tv and shut it down early at 9 pm. When I finally try to settle in and relax I hear it. The one fucking thing out of my control. Something I NEVER would have expected from a swanky hotel like the one I’m paying for on the fucking NIGHT BEFORE THE GOD DAMN FUCKING BOSTON FUCKING MARATHON.

*BEEP*....

No fucking way.

*beep*

FUCK THAT.

I stand up and unplug the smoke alarm. It beeps a third time and I take the battery out. Some “no fucking name” PROCELL bullshit.

“I paid HOW MUCH for this fucking room and you can’t even change the fucking smoke alarm batteries??!?!. Fuck this fucking piece of shit!”

I put it in the hallway and never hear it again. I go back to not sleeping, checking the weather, reminding myself how I was before CIM 2021 as well as saying “you said..’give me good weather and I’ll burn that mother fucker down’ in training. Well you have CIM weather.” I check findmymarathon.com to confirm the weather for 2019 CIM was pretty comparable to Boston 2023. I’m Still nervous. I’ve been nervous. Yeah trying wen great, and every time I’ve followed this training program it works, but that’s at CIM which has “the magic of CIM.” I go over everything everyone said, and remind myself how I’ve pretty much always done better than I said I would, but this is bigger. This isn’t CIM. This has those hills, and people who know the course more said things playing over in my head. Fucking fantastic. Can I just fall asleep?”

I try to go back to sleep. I think I fall asleep around midnight then wake up around 2:30 am sore, tired, but too awake to fall asleep. I hear my heart beating in the pillow through my ear drum. I know this kind of awake. This is the “I’m going to be awake for the next 3 hours the pass OUT an hour before my alarm clock, set for 6am, and be groggy as fuck when I have to wake up. Oh and to add to my own stupidity I keep checking my fucking “body battery” on Garmin as if seeing a 55 is going to help me relax. Garmin says I slept 7 hours. I know it isn’t true and it is probably closer to 5. Alarm goes off, I eat my traditional breakfast (plain bagel plus peanut butter. No hard boiled eggs made the trip) and have a splash of shitty hotel coffee before getting ready to check my race gear and rip bag for the “I stopped counting” time.

Since I have never done t before I watched a ton of videos, talked to people, asked questions, searched the race website, and found out as much information as I could about the start of the race. “Back in my day” CIM provided a service of taking your drop bag from the starting line to the finish line. Boston does no such thing. They have drop bags at the finish, and since I’d used them in 2021 I decided to put one together for the finish line. I confirm my list with my “less than imaginary friend from “okay LA. H oh EM aye Oklahoma.” He has some good questions/ideas and I think “not like you have to carry it for an ultra. It sits on a bus and you don’t have to use it. Hoodie, flip flops,and pajama pants. Never know what I’ll want after the race, and this isn’t “see I am” so it could be different. I attach the massively amazing bag tag, a mixture of card stock and high quality adhesive, to my drop bag and head out the door to figure out where I’m supposed to go. I kind of know from research, but actually never really looked up bag drop. It’s a bunch of school buses in the finisher area organized by bib number, and there are a lot of runners here. I still haven’t grasped the size of this race at this point, and I feel like a combination of salmon swimming upstream and the new kid at school looking for my class room.  I ask a volunteer where my bus is and they tell me “oh keep going you’re up there.” Well, yeah okay I guess based on my starting corral and start time it makes sense for me to be closer to the finish, but HOW MUCH farther. Ah..there. Cool .  Shit that’s a lot of buses. Finally I find my bus, thank the volunteers, and take my “start bag” the race provides (about an 8x11 piece of paper size) with me and head to the OTHER buses which are where I’ll actually have to get in line. Just follow the other salmon and hope they know where they’re at, pass the cops in their morning meeting acknowledging just how fucking serious they take this shit, and hat up the guy next to me. He is dog his third, and says how it’s the first time he’ll be doing it solo. Other two times he paced a para-athlete. “That’s awesome!” I think, as I notice the massive crowd gathering outside the park we are walking towards.

It’s about 7 am, and the website says I’m supposed to load my bus at 6:45am (load times are color coded, and you can hop on a later bus but NOT earlier).The internet says it’s about an hour ride to the start, and I’d decided I didn’t need to be there over two hours before the race. I kind of start to realize just how much bigger than CIM Boston might be. “well, there ARE 30,000 people dig this so like 8,000 of them are hopping on the bus, plus the the other ones whose time it actually is soooo...” it isn’t until I get much closer I realize this is a security check point, and most of these people aren’t moving.

Me: what the fuck? Oh. Colors. I’m a red belly sneech.  These are the white and blue belly sneeches.

I follow a slip stream of red belly sneeches through the crowd, flash my bib and keep going...to the NEXT crowd I also assume is all red belly sneeches because I just went through that last crowd.  Nope. It’s a mix.

Volunteer : ONLY RED BIBS. RED BIBS LOADING.

me: OH FUCK. THIS IS AWESOME.

I slip through the crowd finally accepting some of the “pomp” of having a red bib. I didn’t have to wait in lines, my gear is going to be really close to the finish line, and I can get to the start before the majority of people so like everything I just learned in my research probably isn’t going to affect me. The lines at the bathroom won’t be as long, it will be easier to get around the start area and meet friends, and everyone on the bus has probably done this before so it’s going to be WAAAAAAY smoother than, say, a bus filled with charity runners who are doing their first marathon and “don’t know what they don’t know like I did my first time.” All my first races were small compared to this. I was afraid to be out in the cold 15 minutes before my first marathon and now I have a “throw away jacket” from one of my races I kept FOR this moment. I chat up the guy next to me (OB/GYN from Ohio) who had done this race about 10 years before. Nice guy, wish I knew his bib number. We did the typical dad thing and talk about kids, and how we neglect our wife’s and families for a few months to train because we want to do great, and wish each other a good race. No one ever ACTUALLY wants a fellow runner to suffer do they? DO THEY???

So here I am, Hopkinton. The start of the Boston marathon. I don’t know if I’ll ever be back here. Just take photos. We have the goal (yes I think of myself as a group not a single) and we have the training to support it. I head to the bathroom, and call my buddy Matt who I’d trained with.

“I’m by the tent”

“Which tent?”

“The white tent.”

“Are you near the field goals?”

“What field goals? I see the score board.”

“What score board? I’m by the portopotties. Oh THAT scoreboard. I just came up the hill.”

“What hill? Oh you’re down below?”

Fuck...this pace is big and it’s foggy which makes it slightly more enjoyable. How the hell did people find themselves 10 years ago when cell phones weren’t so easy to carry? Did you send post cards to each other with a Polaroid of yourself dressed for race day and agree to meet at the third information tent in the Southeastcorner near the baseball fields?

Matt and I link up, take a photo in front of some sign I’ve seen other people take photos of and just kind of hang out. Three other Reno fast guys (like...REALLY fast) walk by and chat for a bib, and in notice one has a 3 digit bib. I’m kind of in awe since I’d just overheard someone say they ran a 2:30 qualifier to get their bib and start remembering there is always someone faster then me, I still see myself as a 3:56 marathoner, and all my goals have been met to this point...except one I just set about four months ago. A New York qualifier. Sub-2:58:00 to get in for 2024.  It would be so nice to get it done today. I got all my shit (super shoes, expensive gels, fancy watch, pink sunglasses, totally not superstitious orange color tank top (singlets are for wrestlers), and I get a little worried when a breeze blows and I hear “definitely going to be a headwind.” Great. Someone with a shit ton more experience, and skill, than me already makes it feel like a rough day is about to get rougher. Whatever,  fuck it.  Full send. Matt and I agree “checkers or wreckers baby.” Off to the bathroom lines one more time where I chat with a woman from Nebraska (I ask how she trains for hills and she looks at me like I’m stupid, then informed me Nebraska has hills.) before having an imaginary friend reach the status of “less than imaginary” minutes before walking off, while ANOTHER runner from Nevada finds me and says “yeah I could hear you from way over there. So loud.” We laugh and he tells me I’ll be fine. Matt finds me and we walk off to the start corrals where we’re split apart. We’re provided another opportunity to show we’re a red belly sneech before being segregated by waves. As if color wasn’t enough, it’s now by number. Matt and I quickly comment about some comments I made regarding how intimidating it can feel being up here, and how we both kind of feel like we don’t belong. I mean, we do and we’ve proven it, but it still doesn’t feel like we’re “one of them” while also being amused we ARE “one of them.”

Part of my research showed me the walk to the start corrals is about 0.75 miles, AND there are additional bathrooms closer to the start near the VIP tent. Also, you don’t have to get rid of your clothes at the school. You can wear them all the way to the starting corrals and volunteers will be everywhere to take them from you. This was great to know just because it was a little chilly and started to rain while in the corrals. Someone else had informed me the warm up area is small and crowded, so I wouldn’t be able to do my traditional “how easy does marathon pace feel at the start of a race” mile like I always do at CIM. The walk is downhill, and literally everyone is smoking past me. I walk really slow. It’s more of a mosey than a walk, and I’m starting to get kind of nervous walking so fast so I just pull over to the side and slow down. I don’t want to get too hyped up before the race when I’m already nervous about dog what I trained to do.  The road is lined with barriers about 4 ft high and along the way I see three red belly sneeches asking if they can hop the fence to join us, and they’re told to continue walking to the high school. “Damn, they’re SERIOUS about this shit when they’re telling them they can’t join us and they’re one of us.” There is a family partying it up along the walk FULLY enjoying the morning and embracing the fact they’re not going ANYWHERE for the day. A house or two is for sale and someone says “man how cool would it be to live on the course?” Umm, it wouldn’t. It would suck unless you’re running the race. If you had to go to work today you’d be pretty pissed at the race, and if you had to clean up after a bunch of visitors just threw shit in your yard you’d be extra pissed. Why do you think like none of them are outside? Either they’re volunteering or they don’t give a shit about this race so they leave town for the 3 day weekend to avoid the crowds.” Once I hit the starting area I find my corral, and have to prove I’m a 5. It’s kind of odd at this point just because I’m thinking “there really isn’t much difference between corral 8 and corral 5 is there? I mean...I trained with a guy in corral 8 and he smoked me in a 5k. I don’t think people are going to hop into corral 2 or 3 but whatever. Maybe I’m just weird.” I met a guy from Texas with a WICKED awesome mustache who asks when I’m go to ditch my jacket.

Me: I was told you either ditch it 15 minutes early, or you wait until the last second. We have less than 15 minutes so I guess I’m keeping it on.

Him: *accent I’d expect this guy to have* “aight I’ll to do the same.”

Me *balls up jacket to throw over everyone since I’m in the middle of the corral*

Random guy next to me: nice throw,

Me: yeah, almost as if I’d been hit by someone who just threw their shit from the middle of the corral and didn’t give a fuck about anyone else.

Texas guy: * does the same thing* so what are you going for?

Me: 2:55.  You?

Texas guy : two fifty.

Me: *shocked face emoji because we are at the very BACK of corral 5*

The national anthem is sung. Shit gets real. Just like CIM. this is my my race day hype song. The shitty sleep doesn’t matter anymore. Not like I can do anything about it at this point anyways, and I shotgunned a gel 10 minutes before the race starts because that’s a thing. Nothing to it but to do it. Run your race not theirs. Don’t go out too fast. Nothing faster than 6:38. Just get to the hills. Hit a right at the first station and take Wade with you and put in some work.trust the training. You e done this before.

*bang* we start moving. And actually lightly jogging which is very different from other marathons I’ve done, and then we stop.  “Ah come on, you can’t do that to me today. Fast start.” We start moving again, and again we stop. I think “okay, apparently people are really excited and nervous, just run your race.” I have my GPS locked in and ready to go, start moving again, see the first timing mat and start my watch a few secs before crossing it. After years of tracking people at work and seeing those little blue runner guys on the website I’m about to be one. People are actually tracking me today. I’m one of those blue guys on someone’s computer screen after all those years. This is really about to happen.

I’m officially running the Boston marathon.

piwi - Maybe I could have tried something to make it go away but after Melbourne I was just thinking I'm not battling cramp again.

RP - That was glorious.  I didn't even realise until close to the end that it was just the build up.  Smoke alarms are the bane of my existence (until one saves my life).  Why start beeping at 3am?  On the extremely high ceiling that I need an extended ladder to reach?  On the night BEFORE WE MOVE OUT AND IT BECOMES SOMEONE ELSE'S PROBLEM.  I was not impressed, especially given how sick I was.