Friday, February 26, 2016

Power Walk



“It is going to be very slow relative to how you have been running with your friends. Are you sure you want to meet up?” I asked an ultra-runner friend who recently shared he wants to do some long runs together. “Yes, definitely. I want to slow down,” he responded. I drove to Harris Teeter to meet my so-humble-he-wants-to-remain-anonymous sidekick at 5 a.m., who ran here (6 miles from his house). Emerging slowly from my car I am very nervous to say the least. Yes this run will end up being the completion of 15 consecutive weeks of 100 miles/week but I am going to try and do it with someone who has completed 29 ultra-marathons in just six years, and is training at a 7:30 pace with his usual running buddies. He again assures me it will be fine so we start moving within the boundary of my slow gait towards the well-lit asphalt trail alongside Princess Anne Road.

I used to weigh 175 pounds when we ran together on occasion about four years ago. Today I am just under that mark and look significantly leaner. He even asked, “Are you sure your scale isn’t broken?” Sharing that I appeared to be about 160 pounds. But the pace was the clear indicator as at one point he jokingly slowed to a fast-paced walk to demonstrate his treadmill workouts at a 10% incline and he was still shoulder-to-shoulder with me as I put one leg in front of the other at my current running-easy pace.

I realized on this trek, with the exception of occasionally talking to other runners during a race, 100% of my running the last eight months has been alone. Perhaps that is a show of fortitude, my only accountability has been, well…me. Personally, I think of it as a show of respect for other runners, not selfishly asking them to drag their feet to provide company and good conversation.

As the miles pass by seemingly effortless, we shared running motivations and future plans. I found this exchange to be most stimulating and then after dropping some weight in the restroom (at about mile 8) the pace naturally improved without intention. During the last two miles my distance-loving friend relaxed into a bright smile and called out, “We are at a 9:30 pace right now, that’s respectable.” My legs were nearly as new as they were at the start and now consciously happy.

Similar to several living organisms in the same space with a plethora of resources, we found a productive synergy and even a common plan; to qualify for Boston together in the same marathon sometime in the future. Maybe it will be this year, maybe not. He is an ultra-runner at heart, not concerned with medals and merits, just running true to form and potential for his intended distance goal. And honoring that is the best strategy to move forward.

Friday, February 19, 2016

100+ miles/week

After running 100+ miles/week for 14 consecutive weeks which has also included my craziest taper yet (75 miles in 4 days just to have two full days of rest before the Hilton Head Island Marathon where I surprised myself with my fastest time in 5 years and a 2nd place age group finish), I am adding another challenge in addition to finishing the June 2016 Canyon Meadow Marathon. It is to run 100 miles/week for the entire year of 2016. Not an average of 100 miles/week; the challenge is to run at least 100 miles every week (which for me goes from Sunday to Saturday). About 15% of the year is already done. I have several motivations in place including that December 31st is a Saturday; completing this goal sets up for an unprecedented New Year's celebration. 

Monday, February 15, 2016

Get an Education

School may be closed but you can still get an education; 21+ miles crossing sunrise. I felt like a little kid again as the snowflakes were falling nonstop and progressively harder on the back half. Even the concrete sidewalk, which I usually only walk on, felt like it was covered with a tight-knit Berber carpet.

Saturday, February 6, 2016

"Nowhere"

 
Do you know what you are looking for when you run? Is it a destination, distance, pace or peace? If it is the peaceful sound of silence I encourage you to find a safe zone outside between 4 a.m. and 5 a.m. on a Sunday morning. It was so quiet that I think I heard the sound of nothing. Seriously, if my eyes were closed and someone asked, “Do you know where you are now?” I would earnestly answer, “Nowhere.”