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.

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. 

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.

"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.”

Wide Open Scary

     The weather is perfect in the low 40s with moderate humidity and drinkable air that is crisp and clean. Engaged in an early miles stride that is coming unexpectedly easy enroute to finishing my eleventh consecutive week of 100 miles+ I am feeling a bit timid.

    “Should the run be unfolding this comfortable with almost 70 miles passed on my feet in just four days? Is this a physical setup for injury? How is the turnover so mindless and fluid?”

     This situational freeform gift of seamless running is wide open scary. It is a physical and mental representation of circumstances that say, “Here you go. It is exactly what you wanted.”

     You would think it would be a point of ecstasy, and that feeling does well-up inside you but it is only temporary. In tandem with that fading sentiment surfaces an empty palette. Now I am holding a paintbrush with all the colors that have ever existed and the ability to paint anything. What am I supposed to be doing?

     I could play it physically conservative and quit at 10 miles. While contemplating the next move, within just 200 meters of home I am alternating between two grass rectangles each about a quarter-mile around, broken apart with a short walking break on pavement, just going back and forth, back and forth and back and forth. The previous sentence is not a typo, it is a true route representation. Miles eleven, twelve, thirteen and fourteen have slipped past unconsciously during this internal dialogue.

     After crossing 16 I have committed to leaving this relaxed routine double ring and have chosen to push harder on other neighborhood grounds. Maybe that is the answer? To set up another burden to break down this complacency, to try to run into the infamous runner’s wall.

“This guy is a wrecking machine and he's hungry!” – Mickey Goldmill (played by Oliver Burgess Meredith) in Rocky III (1982)

     Images and thoughts of this scene and its meaning play out in my head. Throughout the endurance phase and up to this moment of transferring these notes, Rocky III of the first five movies in the series has been my favorite.

     Approaching 19 miles another motivator I recently added (to what has become a varied-type collection) is moving to the forefront of my consciousness. It is the book Out There: A Story of Ultra Recovery by David Clark. Sure, you could easily be impressed with the differences in his before and after picture clearly displaying a man who has lost over 150 pounds, but it is the story – the path – that is the real brick and mortar. Here is just the first sentence of the Amazon description, “David Clark went from the rock bottom of bankruptcy, addiction and obesity to becoming an accomplished athlete.”

     After crossing 19 miles I am looking at my phone battery and making the commitment, “If David Clark can beat addiction and finish the Badwater Ultramarathon, I can stretch twenty miles to twenty-two anytime I get this far on a training effort.” And all I have read in his book up to this moment of making this decision is the cover and interior review comments, the foreword by ultra-beast Marshall Ulrich and the first chapter. And the first chapter happens to be only one full page; it is that powerful. Twenty-two miles then finishes at 22.60, and RunKeeper adds support posting this message in specific emphasizing punctuation with a picture of a cartoon jet, “Flyin’ 1:10 faster than your usual pace for this distance!”

Running the Weather

Ironically running an easy seven last night (Friday-image on the right) it was the warmest it has been all week. The image on the left is showing Tuesday morning when I surprised myself knocking out 20 crossing dawn. There is no doubt the orange Patagonia lightweight windbreaker I wear under my Columbia weatherproof hoodie is making this possible. It is an incredible insulator that also wicks away moisture. Another 100+ miles/week done, this time in 5 days (Friday night was a bonus); the total is now 10 consecutive weeks of running 100 miles+.

Energy and Endurance

Mayan Chocolate Tea (click to go to website)
This is the best pre-run drink I have had in 14 1/2 years of running. I just finished my 9th consecutive week of running 100 miles per week (November 15th to now). By far this was my toughest work week, with two of the five days 12 hours+. I tried this tea with the intent of just looking for an alternative to coffee, to mix it up. What I discovered was a surge of energy within 30 seconds of drinking it, and endurance through the run and the work day. It didn't cause a spike and my heart was as calm as when I am watching TV. The cayenne pepper gives it a unique tinge that wakes you up and it kick starts your metabolism.