Three

My weight continues to drop, starting today at 172.8. If I, no, when I slide under the 170 mark and bounce between 165 and 170 as opposed to 170 and 175 the times are going to improve significantly with the same exertion. But it is harder to do than say after the carb-depleting trek of a typical 18-24 miles. Then I just want to eat a quarter-gallon of ice cream with a Hershey bar chaser. Sure, objectively it’s a self-deprecating experience but in the partaking it is a cool refreshing refill of calcium, fat and sugars to be stored for later. However, I am confident when I naturally dip into a lower better-running-weight range (even though I am already down 27 lbs. from a year ago), I will look back at these eating habits with a torqued facial expression saying, “You were a mess.”

Time = 2:27:29, Distance = 12.36 miles, Pace = 11:56

This morning has started out with this pattern – run one mile, walk a short distance, stop and stretch, then run the next mile. The first five were totally on pavement and the remainder on grass. And then it finally happened, at mile 10 the hamstring released like melted butter. Both legs felt magically happy again but it wasn’t 100% smooth-sailing as the left calf started to tighten during the last two miles. Without hesitation or fear, I just pushed harder, right into the pain, and the watch echoed/rewarded a sub-12 minute pace when going through mile eleven and twelve. That’s enough for now, more later.

Time = 2:27:29, Distance = 12.36 miles, Pace = 11:56

Same day. Run #2. The starting weight is a light 170.8. Starting in daylight (@ 8:34 a.m.) was a nice change of scenery, everything is so green. And the running was rather enjoyable, well, until while my gaze was taking in the sunlit scenery the upper left sleeve of The Jacket (my current favorite running accessory) was ripped by a protruding wire when running along a fence line. Arghhhh! At least my skin didn’t make contact. And the hole might be able to be patched, right?

Time = 1:48:24, Distance = 8.20 miles, Pace = 13:14

It is 6:33 p.m. and the legs, even more awkward the mind is ready for more. Determined to test this drive to its limit, I take to the beach in Sandbridge, VA. “Run all the distance on the sand until you have nothing left.” The temperature is a warm 75F but the winds are relentless at 17 mph. Knowing it will be difficult to gage the distance relative to effort, and conserve for more, I set the RunKeeper notifications to .5 miles. The coastline is anything but level right now, sloping right into the shore break. So I am engaged in a weaving pattern up and down the mini-ramps…until the first mile passes. Then I test this drive even more by cresting a few dunes. Three and a half miles later, I still haven’t felt the need to stretch and the sand is so forgiving on the joints my body just continues to plod forward, surprisingly with minimal effort. And then a soft sunset casts a distinctly pink hue onto a vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean as far as the eyes can see. It is so relaxing, a true metaphor of the steps in this third and final run of the day.

Time = 1:15:09, Distance = 5.96 miles, Pace = 12:37

Walk-Stretch-Run

It is surprisingly awesome that my body has metamorphosed into a machine that can just keep running day after day, after day. Less than 24 hours have passed since the marathon and I am powering up for an easy 10-12 miles. Don’t get me wrong, the hamstrings are still there but less tender. It is 43F with NW winds @ 18 mph creating a feel-like temperature of 36F. Hopefully this cold ambience will keep the swelling down. At the same time, another sick part of me wants to learn to run hurt and/or in pain. “What’s up with that?”

With the California goal race 89 days 5 hours and 38 minutes from this moment, I want to share my current weight; 173.6 pounds. Just typing out the word pounds makes this value seem that much heavier. And let’s be honest, relative to my 5’ 10.5” frame it is a very pudgy burdensome factor for a “runner.” And a disturbing one at that. Am I embarrassed sharing this data? No, not really, it is another form of accountability. Tomorrow I can wake up and reflect, “Remember when you said you were 173.6 about 90 days out? Don’t get bigger than that.”

While warming up with the dishes I am in the pulsating grip of the Palm Massager, attempting to electrically pummel my hamstrings to mush. And then the hard stuff comes out after the last of the soap suds disappear down the drain of the empty steel basin below. I am smothering my semitendinosus and biceps femoris with China Gel and an entire 3 ml sample-packet of Biofreeze. This topical combination is so strong my eyes are now watering and the burning taste of menthol is annoyingly camping out in my oral cavity. At least I am not thinking about the leg muscles.

Finally outside (@ 3:34 a.m.) a light rain is drizzling its way through the cold dense air. Walk – stretch the hamstrings – run is the repetitive sequence to keep moving forward. I am learning to run and walk in pain. “Wow, this is fun!” Ok, not so much. During each stop to stretch I am counting one thousand, two thousand, three thousand…up to 12 – the intended goal for today, and taking the time to visualize each step. Even though it was extremely slow while discovering a new relationship to pain, the walk-stretch-run strategy worked. Another day down en route to June and continuing this one year 100-miles/week streak.

Time = 1:53:53, Distance = 7.92 miles, Pace = 14:23/mile*

Time = 1:05:17, Distance = 4.25 miles, Pace = 15:22/mile*

*I don’t stop RunKeeper when I use the restroom, bend-over stretching, drink water, eat (which can be a somewhat lengthy event), etc. So please don’t give me slack about true-running pace, you can look at my race times for that. The pain forced breaking this run into two efforts and obviously recovery is not heading in the right direction…yet. To each his/her own on the journey, carry forth.

A Painful Rush

Just one week has passed and I am lining up for another race, the Shamrock Marathon in Virginia Beach. Being my first Boston Qualifier 13 years ago, and having run this race three times, I have comfortable expectations for a decent experience even though the pre-rest has been cut short and racing back-to-back weekends is not the usual routine. But the easy local logistics make adding this race to the calendar a no-brainer.

Anyway, the temperature is promising (48F) but the wind not so much (NW 22 mph). The fast early miles surprisingly felt like a typical long run, I even found a lost credit card and handed it off to a volunteer dressed in official attire with the request, “Return to owner.” Finding it was not as much as a surprise as knowing the several hundred runners ahead of me didn’t stop to pick it up. It’s solid red-colored face was very bold against the black pavement. Still feeling great while running through mile 8 I was anxiously anticipating a gel stop. I didn’t bring any in this race seeing they were going to be handed out. Then disappointment and fear of bonking was the prevalent thought for the next three miles, as I did go out from the start rather aggressively (for me right now) seeing if I could stay in stride with the 3:30 pacer (@ 8 minutes/mile).

Then suddenly, when crossing mile 11, my left hamstring blew up. It was a pain I have never known before, even finally getting a gel at mile 12 didn’t affect its stiff piercing presence. Passing the garage where my car was parked (at mile 13), I almost walked off the course and just quit this race. But I couldn’t do it. This was an opportunity to surmount a new type of obstacle, pain, and not just for a few minutes but 15 miles of nonstop pain. In every run and the only marathon I didn’t finish (the reason I have been writing this three book series over the course of one year) I have stopped immediately when debilitating pain surfaced. No not today, we move on.

A topical analgesic applied at the medic tent, three bathroom stops which were killers when having to sit down and even walking at each mile marker while hobbling in between up to mile 15 didn’t lessen the agony. So I tried a different strategy, I turned to adrenaline, inwardly reciting, “Pain is your friend. Run harder and faster until you feel a rush masking this annoyance. If you can finish this, you can do any race to its end.” So I ran hard, very hard in fact, even while sucking down a second gel. Between miles 19 and 23 there was a sandy grass border, so I even went off-road as much as possible and focused on each passing blade of grass, “Just keep moving forward, stay in the moment.”

Even though I was forced to a walk at mile 21, the adrenaline strategy worked rather effectively up to that point. Then I kept repeating, “Just one mile to go. Just one mile to go. Just one mile to go.” And continued running one at a time while in between walking through markers 22, 23 and 24. But then during the last two miles the muscle memory of 36 marathons took over and the finish line was the next and thankfully last stop.

3/20/16 Shamrock Marathon

Time = 3:54:11, Distance = 26.2 miles, Pace = 8:57/mile

100 Miles in 4 Days

 

100 Miles in 4 Days

Running After Spaghetti

Running After Spaghetti is a nonfiction exposure of the mental and physical strength to accomplish once-thought-impossible goals. Two different recreational athletes with very different challenges share their path. Casey also brings recipes to the table while struggling to prepare for and run a race distance she has never been physically able to attempt. And I am continuing my quest to reconcile a failure by embracing endurance, describing in detail the unexpected transition from reaching 12 miles on a training run to running 14 consecutive weeks of 100 miles/week (and still going). This is the second four months in one year with one goal…to finish one race.

Also in paperback;  http://www.amazon.com/Running-After-Spaghetti-Goal-Race/dp/153069034X/

And at Smashwords;  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/623998
(pdf and multiple eBook formats, readable on computer and virtually any eBook reading device)
Also, you can check out the profile of amazing co-author Casey Sell on Smashwords. 

Tobacco Road Marathon

Don’t let this seemingly small race fool you, it has all the benefits of a big event and a better course. At the expo there were even beer samples. I passed on those; however, I was too confident when it came to the terribly delicious donut holes – eating not just one but two. It’s always the second one that leads to, “I shouldn’t have done that.” Chasing a whole bag of Tom’s Potato Chips devoured on the seemingly quick three and a half hour drive here, it was definitely not a wise eating decision. The potato chip rationale; the potatoes provided potassium, the chips were salted (sodium), this tasty bag was low in saturated fat and didn’t have monosodium glutamate. It was a win-win snack (at least for me). Note to the discriminatory conscious athlete/reader; this book is not a dissertation on healthy eating and I am not giving nutritional advice. After the expo we checked in at the Comfort Inn, about 25 minutes from the race venue. Surprisingly, being a Choice member with the hotel chain you get complimentary late checkout. In addition to providing 24-hour coffee/tea in the lobby, in your room you have a decent selection of pillows with various types of firmness. And the mattress was the most comfortable I have slept on before a marathon (away from home). This review was not solicited, it was just that comfortable at this Comfort Inn (Durham, NC).

Race day temperature was 61F at the start rising to 70F, with 91% humidity and SW winds at 7 mph. Needless to say, unless you trained for the heat and humidity, i.e. came up from Florida or a tropical rainforest on the equator, it was going to be a take-what-the race-gives-you day. Be patient up front and finish ok/strong, not suffering/broken from heat exhaustion. While waiting in the start corral I had the pleasure of a short dialogue with a woman who is running her 50^th full marathon and her husband who has finished the prestigious Western States 100-mile Endurance Run twelve times. That previous sentence has no typos, I am entering it again for verification (like you duplicate a password) – she is running her 50^th full marathon and her husband has finished the prestigious Western States 100-mile Endurance Run twelve times. This race had the deepest field of accomplished recreational runners that I have ever been cognizant of in a half/full marathon, more are coming up.

The course opens up on pavement for about 2 miles but then you are taken on a wide compact dirt-gravel composite trail bounded by towering pines for the majority of the distance. You also get to cross a few wood bridges and go through a short tunnel. The environment was very green, relaxing and as Jane said, “I was really impressed with the amount and quality of support, and water stations.” The enthusiastic volunteers also dispensed so many gels along the way in different locations you really didn’t need to carry any; I had one with me not knowing this was such a good setup. Between miles 8 and 9 while passing a woman who was wearing a jersey that said 100 marathon club (on the back) I smiled and shared, “Congratulations, 100 marathons, that’s awesome.” Plodding along at a steady pace characteristic of a veteran runner while having what appeared to be a mid-size white plastic bag filled to the brim with race cups tied to her waist she smiled back, “242.” I quickly inquired, “242 marathons?” She casually retorted while not missing a step as the bag bounced against her left hip, “Yes, this is my 242^nd marathon. I have been running for 24 years.” Yes, the shade from the thick pine forest and a slight cool breeze provided some relief from the heat and I was steadily pouring water over my head at more than one water stop as a cautionary measure, but it was “242” that stuck as the primary driver to move forward, there are no excuses for failure.

A little further along I got into an interesting conversation with a younger fellow who was running the race to provide company and a consistent pace for his wife (alongside). He asked me about my intended outcome to which I replied, “It will probably be between 3:40-3:45, if it is under 3:40 it has been a good day, under 3:35 an unexpectedly great day.” He then offered, “We just want to run consistent, we don’t really have a time goal. I don’t do any speed work, I haven’t qualified for Boston and I have run more 50-milers than marathons.” The ease in his conversational voice while cruising at a sub-8:30 pace was rightly indicative of treading many miles. When finding out I have been logging 100-mile weeks on RunKeeper he recommended the website Strava sharing as it says on the site, “Connect with athletes all over the world to stay motivated throughout your training and racing.” Pausing to check it out as I translate these notes, I am happy to see I can upload my RunKeeper data so I won’t have to wear multiple timing devices or try to use simultaneous apps on the same run. But you won’t find me there, the weekly format on Strava was a fixed Monday to Sunday (I keep mine Sunday to Saturday) and the downloadable RunKeeper data didn’t include manually entered times (I don’t wear a GPS tracker during events and on the treadmill and I don’t want to have to manually enter data on two different websites). So if you want to connect, friend me on RunKeeper. Let’s get back to the race.

At mile 8 I consumed a Salted Caramel GU energy gel (a handout) and then the GU Espresso Love gel (I was carrying) at mile 16. I should’ve let that one go and replaced it along the way with a less chemically-modified flavor. As Jane shared on the ride home, “No more caffeine for you.”

I followed the race plan of running four miles at a time but then after mile 20 just kept going to the finish line. I was passed quite a bit in the first two miles and then by a few more runners up to mile 11. But between miles 11 and mile 26 I passed several runners and no one moved ahead, except in the last half mile when two guys bolted by like they just started. It was a very impressive show of strength and experience to say the least. I found out after crossing the finish line and catching up to them to laud their efforts, one was 41 years old and hasn’t qualified for Boston but doesn’t do speed work and the other was 46 years old.

Hold on, we’re not done yet. Jane who was waiting for me (she had already finished the half marathon) added, “A woman running next to this man who appeared to be in his late 40s maybe early 50s said he was running his 300^th full marathon today.” The marathon and half marathon ran together for a part of the course during this race, and as you can tell from this recap so did beginners, experienced and many lifetime runners. Since this book is focused on time, I will share this was shockingly my fastest marathon in 11½ years and I ran a negative split (front 1:50:07, back 1:48:33). But it was the outstanding logistics, course, support and other athletes, and of course spending time with Jane on yet another new adventure that made this race one we will certainly come back to next year.

Time = 3:38:40, Distance = 26.2 miles, Pace = 8:20/mile

Sand, Surf and No Tempo

 

The Bi-Lo at the corner of Highway 17 and 517 in Mount Pleasant, SC is surprisingly selling a half dozen fresh baked southern biscuits for only $2.00. Feeling a bit hungry subsequent to a big drop in weight (now down to 168 lbs.) and knowing a tempo run was planned to be integrated into a 12-15 mile adventure, I had to eat something. “You’re in the south, biscuits are the way to go. Don’t worry, you will eat just one. Your weight is finally moving into the sub-170 range, you don’t want to screw that up.” Even though they were all room temperature from being shelved in packaging, the first biscuit’s flaky buttery goodness was southern delectable. So much so I caved to devouring two; I am confident the nervousness about the demands of a tempo pace was also a contributing factor.

As Greg McMillan describes in his YouTube video Tempo Runs - McMillan Running the tempo run is “done at or very near your lactate threshold pace, the pace you can race for about one hour, running comfortably hard and makes you callous to the mental strain of running fast for a long time.” I know personally this powerful speed-training technique has profound effects from even just a limited incorporation several years ago. By the way, Amby Burfoot (winner of the 1968 Boston Marathon and long-time Runner’s World editor-in-chief) refers to Greg McMillan as “one of the best and smartest distance-running coaches in America." On his website (https://www.mcmillanrunning.com/) there are a plethora of resources including a very revealing running calculator to determine proper training paces. This recommendation was not purchased or requested.

Coming back to today’s run, I am crossing the Isle of Palms Connector Bridge which joins Mount Pleasant to the Isle of Palms. On the way to the bridge, a grass strip is a nice pre-respite from the lengthy hard concrete bridge coming up in the distance. I am facing traffic as even though there is plenty of room to run, the only demarcation between your vulnerable flesh and skin-covered frame and 2 tons of metal flying by at speeds of 50-60 mph is a painted white stripe. But don’t let this discourage you, the expansive marsh views are remarkably picturesque. And what is ahead is well worth it.

Just on the other side (turning left), you have a restroom/refuel/water stop – Harris Teeter. And you are less than a mile to the beach. I thoroughly enjoyed this ultra-wide level joint-forgiving expanse for about three miles, then went into the Boardwalk Inn to pick up a definitely-needed bottled water. This beach is so wide, you always have room to run no matter how many pedestrians/bikers/other runners are present. On the return I became cognizant of the sounds of intermittent colonies of small shells crunching beneath the soft steps below and spent the last mile weaving with the changing tide. Needless to say (even though I was warmed-up & hydrated), following this relaxing experience with a four-mile tempo run on the connector back to the car was not going to happen. I have two marathons on the schedule within 7 days of one another – I can tempo during those events. They are part of the process anyway, not the goal race. I gutted out a second run late in the day (on grass) to push over 20 miles.