More on Paula: You May Think This Is Funny But It's Not

Think of all the indignities Paula Radcliffe has had to suffer: Having a baby. Getting interviewed about what doctors did to make that big-headed-baby fit through your slight frame. Pledging yourself to years of losing to doped-up runners because it was the right thing to do. When you finally break through, still getting no lovin' from the British Press, who only confirm the prudishness we Americans have always suspected of the Brits. Yesterday, a potentially dream-derailing injury at the worst possible time. And now, this:

Talk about kicking you when you're down! The Guardian writes up Paula's femur injury, and what picture do they use? One where her nose and mouth are caked with... something. Cut her some slack! The LEAST you could do would be to use a photo of her during childbirth. At least then all the yuckiness isn't plastered all over her face.

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You're Just Jealous Because A Woman's Faster Than You...

Paula Radcliffe can't catch a break. First, she's cursed with a baby. Then an injury. Now, an ornery sportswriter.

"In this instance it is also Radcliffe, refusing to accept her Olympic dream is slipping from her fingers."

This (by way of Athletics in Britain), before the results of her MRI even came back. Sounds like SOMEONE missed his tea and crumpets when he rolled out of bed one morning.

I don't think I've seen cattiness like that since the last time I watched Farmer Wants a Wife. Not, that, I, uh, have ever watched that...

Update: It's a stress fracture. Paula is going to try to be ready, just in case, anyway, although the words "impossible" and "Olympics" are being thrown around, and for once, they aren't aimed at me by my coach.

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Now THAT'S Some Investigative Journalism

The London press has full-on Olympic fever as we approach summer, which means one thing: Bash, condemn, and overscrutinize Paula Radcliffe.

Fortunately for Paula, she now has a small diversion for the press to focus on and draw attention away from her Athens '04 blow-up: the birth of her baby girl, Isla.

Unfortunately for people who think child birth is less about "the miracle of life," and more about that which can only be called "ickiness", Paula doesn't mind sharing specifics about this diversion. From guardian.co.uk:

"Counter-intuitively, it was partly her fitness that made childbirth difficult: 26 years of training, including running through the pregnancy, had tightened her muscles so much that they wouldn't release her baby. "She just kept getting blocked and stopped. [...]" That and an extremely narrow pelvis. "They measure it in three different places, but my final pelvic gap was 10.1cm, and Isla's head was 10.3, so that was never going to happen without a bit of help ..."

Baby "release" and "blocking"? Pelvic Gaps in relation to baby head measurements? TMI, Paula! TMI!

They are the stronger gender, though, no way 2:15:25 could have possibly hurt that bad.

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Sunday = Funday

It was cool and sunny. Cheerful people wall to wall in Manhattan. Really, I don't know if you could ask for a better NYC Marathon. Sunday really was a great day to be a New Yorker.

I have to admit that I had toyed recently with the idea of moving back home to the Midwest where there is space between the buildings and, ya know, grass. But being in and around the city Sunday, with the gorgeous weather and the streets rife enthusiasm... it kind of makes you fall in love with New York all over again. The day benefited from that weather and a couple of great races -- despite the Trials eunuching the bi-annual AN AMERICAN HASN'T WON A MAJOR MARATHON IN 25-PLUS YEARS IS THIS THE YEAR? screeching -- most notably Paula's dual with that Ethiopian woman. They even had a one of those boats spraying water in the air at the start! How can you not feel got about that?

How the coverage was I couldn't say, but being there was one of the better running-related experiences of my life, even in my fourth year as a spectator -- you would think I'd be over the initial infatuation. It was enough to have me whistling jauntily with ye old iPod and feeling pretty sure that I could wait awhile longer to pull up the tent stakes. Of course, fast-forward three hours and the downtown 1 train was not running (with no reason given), forcing me to walk to Penn through Times Square and swearing the what this city needs isn't bus lanes, but "New Yorker" lanes on Midtown sidewalks. And sure, earlier that day, some guy in the crowd at the Queensboro Bridge turned to my group and asked "What marathon is this?" But nevertheless, Sunday was a great cap on a great weekend for New York, and, I believe for our sport.

bjw and I will be breaking down the Trials and the rest of the weekend shortly.

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