Hello everybody, and by everybody I mean my five followers. I know it's been a good little while since I've posted but as you are aware I've been a bit busy with little Maddie and with work. Call it excuses, call it reasons, call it lazy, whatever. So let's see if I can start getting a little momentum back. It's never too late to start over.
I'm running again! I've been pretty consistent since early November, getting out there about twice per week for about 3-5 miles at a time. It has taken me a little time to adjust mentally to this new reduced workload and the new pace. You see, back in my marathon/ironman days I would routinely run about 20-40 miles per week, depending on where I was in my training for a particular event. I would do these miles any where from an easy recovery pace of 8 min/mile to tempo runs of 8 miles in under an hour to hammering out some track intervals at top speed, usually 8x800m in 3:15 each (1:00 recovery). Now I have finally grown content with cruising along at an easy and relaxed 9 minute pace. I feel like I have fully converted to the "natural" style of running. I don't really have to think about it anymore. Is the Plantar F gone? Not really, I'm starting to think that this injury never really goes away, it just sort of lingers at a low level of discomfort forever. I don't feel it when I run, I feel it a little bit in the morning. I usually do all the right stretches and strengthening moves. Do I have goals with my running? I used to think about my next marathon, now I just am happy to get an hour of peace and quite and meditative solitude. So no I don't really have any goals. The thought of a marathon is intriguing though. What would that feel like? To run a marathon "naturally." My guess is that it would take me about 4 hours, maybe a little more. In the spirit of not setting myself up for failure I'm going to put that dream on the back burner for a few years. Since a goal is nothing but a dream with a deadline, I'll pick a dead line later. Maybe as a reward for earning my Masters, but that is for a another post.
I have run one race recently, it was the annual Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving day. It's a great race, one of my fav's. This was the 30th annual incantation of the event and it just gets bigger every year. It's a lot like every other Turkey trot/chase all across the country. I love it because there are always lots of friends and family doing it as well. You see little kids running with their parents. You see semi-impromptu reunions on course. You see serious runners pushing for a PR and first timers pushing for the finish line. I do this race most years, one year I was injured and another I was 4 days post marathon so I cheered those years. But 8 of the last 10 years I toe'd the line. There is always a lot of friendly chatter at the starting line, the normal stuff you'd expect to hear. People talking about their training, about the weather, about the fiscal cliff and the inability of congress to do anything meaningful, talking about their jobs and their families and their lives, usually good natured and light hearted and laughing. One noticable difference I found between the front of the pack runners and the mid pack runners is when the chatter stops. When I was fast and would line up at the front and push myself I noticed that the chit chat would stop as soon as the gun went off. Maybe a quick, "here we go!" or "good luck," but usually all I hear is beeping of the timing chips flying over the start mat and cherping of our watches as we start the timer. Then it's 40 minutes of breathing hard and running fast. But back with the 50-60 minute runners, the chatting never really stops. It might slow down a bit in the second half but I learned a lot of interesting facts about some total strangers. One guy felt as if he was mislead by the Realtor whose sign we just ran past, another joked about turning our 6 mile run into a 2 mile walk, I found out where one lady got a great deal on her running top and I learned whose husband likes to share and whose doesn't.
I was just handed a baby that I am told looks a lot like me so I gotta go now. Until next time, keep moving
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Injury as a path to inner discovery?
So maybe I'm a cyclist after all. My planter F is back right where it was back in November when I got a cortisone shot. I've been here for about a month, it sucks. But this past weekend we went to the beach and, of course, I brought my bike. I had only one day at the beach since we also had to get back early for Mothers day. So what do you do if you only have one day at the beach? You go for a long ride!! 50 miles on glassy smooth freshly paved County highway and their bike lane shoulders. It was wonderful, I loved it. The ease of riding is very soothing to me. As opposed to the violent crashes I take when I was trying to run. I used to feel like running was 5 times harder then riding. A (easy) ten mile run felt about as hard as a (fast and hilly) 50 mile ride.
6/3/12
So I am just now adding to a blog post that I started back in May. Some of you might be wondering where I've been lately. Weeeellllll I've been a bit busy, you see it seems as if we are going to have ourselves a little addition in about 9 weeks and we are in heavy prep mode. What are we going to do? stay or move? move where? how to turn that room into a baby's room, blah blah blah. Not to mention I have a new motivation to get more useful and more arduous PT certifications. So I haven't had time to blog. I have hardly had time to workout. I had a few weeks lately in which I could only count my daily 3 mile commute and 2 spin classes as my workouts. I was getting fat as well, I know right?!?! ME!! I didn't actually weigh myself you see, mind you. I just could tell I've got about 5-10lb's extra. So what did I do? I started hitting the Crossfit real hard, upping it from once per week to 3-4. The metcon stuff and the heavy lifting. I also made a fateful decision. I've fully committed to Millie (that's my road bike. Forrest is my daily commuter but Millie is my first love). I am a cyclist first and I don't run. I may run once per week to strengthen my cycling but not for a long while. Not until the PF is fully gone.
So the question you must be asking yourselves is this. Am I really born to run? The answer...it is too soon to tell. I've got a lot of life left, 56 years or so. I'll get to this JFK50 thing after a while (believe it!!), but for now the adventure will be the as yet to be named and gender mystery tiny little person.
But I would like to share that I had big miles on the bike 2 weeks in the last 3. I was at the beach over the Memorial Day weekend and I rode all three days. 135 miles in all, it was wonderful. Just this last weekend I got up early on Sunday (6am!! Dedication!!) just to squeeze in 25 more miles. It was one of those mornings that was just brilliant out. Clear, crisp, coolish air. I was riding hard and was really driving the bike, pushing myself and Millie to our limits...it was fun.
So let's see where this adventure takes me. Logging off for now but stay tuned.
6/3/12
So I am just now adding to a blog post that I started back in May. Some of you might be wondering where I've been lately. Weeeellllll I've been a bit busy, you see it seems as if we are going to have ourselves a little addition in about 9 weeks and we are in heavy prep mode. What are we going to do? stay or move? move where? how to turn that room into a baby's room, blah blah blah. Not to mention I have a new motivation to get more useful and more arduous PT certifications. So I haven't had time to blog. I have hardly had time to workout. I had a few weeks lately in which I could only count my daily 3 mile commute and 2 spin classes as my workouts. I was getting fat as well, I know right?!?! ME!! I didn't actually weigh myself you see, mind you. I just could tell I've got about 5-10lb's extra. So what did I do? I started hitting the Crossfit real hard, upping it from once per week to 3-4. The metcon stuff and the heavy lifting. I also made a fateful decision. I've fully committed to Millie (that's my road bike. Forrest is my daily commuter but Millie is my first love). I am a cyclist first and I don't run. I may run once per week to strengthen my cycling but not for a long while. Not until the PF is fully gone.
So the question you must be asking yourselves is this. Am I really born to run? The answer...it is too soon to tell. I've got a lot of life left, 56 years or so. I'll get to this JFK50 thing after a while (believe it!!), but for now the adventure will be the as yet to be named and gender mystery tiny little person.
But I would like to share that I had big miles on the bike 2 weeks in the last 3. I was at the beach over the Memorial Day weekend and I rode all three days. 135 miles in all, it was wonderful. Just this last weekend I got up early on Sunday (6am!! Dedication!!) just to squeeze in 25 more miles. It was one of those mornings that was just brilliant out. Clear, crisp, coolish air. I was riding hard and was really driving the bike, pushing myself and Millie to our limits...it was fun.
So let's see where this adventure takes me. Logging off for now but stay tuned.
Friday, April 13, 2012
AARP and the unleven abs
Forgive me my flock, happily I can say...I"M BAAAAAACK!!!
I needed some time to do a big pile of Honey Do's. I have another big pile to do tomorrow and I didn't want the weekend to get away before I shared with you some thoughts and for whatever crazy reason, I feel like you want to hear my thoughts.
I must have jinxed myself, last time I mentioned getting on the podium at my little trail races that I like to do. Well for the first time ever in this particular series of trail races, about 15 races in all over the last 3+ years, I did not finish in the top 5, I did not hit the podium. I mean it's no big deal, right? I ended up going a little slower then I felt able to do because my feet started to really hurt. It was a combo platter of the Plantar Faciatis and lots of sharp rocks to step on. Besides, my goal this year is just recovery and stride transition. Then why am I still obsessed with it 2 weeks later. Maybe it's partially due to the passing another birthday last week?* Maybe it was the weakening of my immune system, as demonstrated by a viscous stomach bug that ripped me inside out for a few days? Maybe it's because, according to my feet, I'm not as fast a healer as I was 10 or 15 years ago. Whatever it is, I know I didn't lose my competitive streak, and that's a win for me.
Another thought bouncing around my noggin is my bone headed stubbornness. I refuse to take my own advice. I refuse to learn from my vast collection of mistakes. I feel like my body is talking and I'm not really listening. My feet have been tender for about 3 weeks now as a result of the natural trail running yet I refuse to stop or change shoes. I'm the yin and yang of malehood, a tired and whiny old man and a little boy all wide eyed and innocent. A strong and silent leader of men and a pimply little teenager. Oh well, such is my life, I'm not going to change soooo.....
Finally, I went to a passover Seder last week. The matzoh reminded me of my body as few 5 years ago, all flat and ripply and stuff. Now I'm more like a good sized Matzoh ball, getting round and mushy and maybe even a little smelly and ripe.
*sidenote: I found out last weekend that the age minimum for AARP membership was 50!! WTF?? 50?!?! Sure, they offer great discounts on life insurance, bus tours of Miami Beach and the blue plate special at the Denny's but now that I'm a mere 6 years from AARP-age I feel like I can wait a while before I get to the back half of the inning.
I needed some time to do a big pile of Honey Do's. I have another big pile to do tomorrow and I didn't want the weekend to get away before I shared with you some thoughts and for whatever crazy reason, I feel like you want to hear my thoughts.
I must have jinxed myself, last time I mentioned getting on the podium at my little trail races that I like to do. Well for the first time ever in this particular series of trail races, about 15 races in all over the last 3+ years, I did not finish in the top 5, I did not hit the podium. I mean it's no big deal, right? I ended up going a little slower then I felt able to do because my feet started to really hurt. It was a combo platter of the Plantar Faciatis and lots of sharp rocks to step on. Besides, my goal this year is just recovery and stride transition. Then why am I still obsessed with it 2 weeks later. Maybe it's partially due to the passing another birthday last week?* Maybe it was the weakening of my immune system, as demonstrated by a viscous stomach bug that ripped me inside out for a few days? Maybe it's because, according to my feet, I'm not as fast a healer as I was 10 or 15 years ago. Whatever it is, I know I didn't lose my competitive streak, and that's a win for me.
Another thought bouncing around my noggin is my bone headed stubbornness. I refuse to take my own advice. I refuse to learn from my vast collection of mistakes. I feel like my body is talking and I'm not really listening. My feet have been tender for about 3 weeks now as a result of the natural trail running yet I refuse to stop or change shoes. I'm the yin and yang of malehood, a tired and whiny old man and a little boy all wide eyed and innocent. A strong and silent leader of men and a pimply little teenager. Oh well, such is my life, I'm not going to change soooo.....
Finally, I went to a passover Seder last week. The matzoh reminded me of my body as few 5 years ago, all flat and ripply and stuff. Now I'm more like a good sized Matzoh ball, getting round and mushy and maybe even a little smelly and ripe.
*sidenote: I found out last weekend that the age minimum for AARP membership was 50!! WTF?? 50?!?! Sure, they offer great discounts on life insurance, bus tours of Miami Beach and the blue plate special at the Denny's but now that I'm a mere 6 years from AARP-age I feel like I can wait a while before I get to the back half of the inning.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
first day of spring run
originally written 3/19:
Those of you in the DC area this past weekend may remember, Spring officially sprung on Friday. At least it did for me. I know that the first day of spring is officially on the vernal eqinox which is on March 20th every year (as far as I know). But my first day of spring is on a different day each year, I'm never for sure which day it's coming but on the day it arrives...AHHH!!! It feels like I haven't felt the sun in my whole life. It's one of my happiest days all year. I tend to celebrate that day instead of March 20th.
What makes a day, a particular day like any other day and like no day before it for about 3-4 months...WARM SUNSHINE (accomponied by gentle breezes of dry, pine scented air). For me the first day of spring is loosly defined as the first day of the year that it is warm, warm enough to run early in the morning, mid day, early evening or late at night and be equally comfortable. Everybody has a day like this in their personal calanders. But what do you do with it? You go outside, we've been couped up all winter, it's time to get out!
So I did what I naturally wanted to do, go for a run. I laced up my Barefoot Merril Trail Gloves and I took off down the trail, my mind was sort of all over the place when I started. I was thinking about work and I was thinking about house issues and some family things and I had no idea how far I wanted to go and how much time I had to get there. Then I remembered that I had a few errands to do so I grapped some papers for my realtor (we finally sold my old place, whew!!), and a small sport sack I would need to pick up some things at CVS and a charger at the Apple store. As I was headed into town I started thinking about the National Marathon that will be taking place the next day. I ran that marathon every year for the past 4 and some kind of spring marathon every year for 6 years. It's just what I do...or did. Not this year because I was injured most of last year and didn't want to rush my body back to fast, I may have decided to do a fall trail marathon if I find one close. I started thinking about how much work and fun and work went in to doing a marathon. They can be grueling but they can be very rewarding. You really learn a little more about yourself when ever you do one, when ever you pass any test for that matter.
So I was inspired that today, on this, the first day of Spring, I will run 6.2 miles (I'll leave the first 20 up to my marathon brothers-in -arms). I had not run that far for 9 months and I run nataurally now so my feet might not even be ready for a run that far. But I had to try and sometimes trying is enough because on this day I ran my 6.2 miles (maybe 6.5 really, I wanted to be sure) and it felt good. I saw a lot of interesting things and I felt a lot of interesting things and I even composed a poem.
I am loving this perfect weather day!
what it does to my soul,
and what it does to my my spirit,
to be outside in it.
Runnin' and gunnin' and soaking it in,
I can't wait for his dreams to begin.
Climbing trees and hills and heights unknown,
together we run b'never alone
Right?!?!
The run felt great even though the balls of my feet are really sore still from the races on the past two weekends all is well, all systems go!
.
Those of you in the DC area this past weekend may remember, Spring officially sprung on Friday. At least it did for me. I know that the first day of spring is officially on the vernal eqinox which is on March 20th every year (as far as I know). But my first day of spring is on a different day each year, I'm never for sure which day it's coming but on the day it arrives...AHHH!!! It feels like I haven't felt the sun in my whole life. It's one of my happiest days all year. I tend to celebrate that day instead of March 20th.
What makes a day, a particular day like any other day and like no day before it for about 3-4 months...WARM SUNSHINE (accomponied by gentle breezes of dry, pine scented air). For me the first day of spring is loosly defined as the first day of the year that it is warm, warm enough to run early in the morning, mid day, early evening or late at night and be equally comfortable. Everybody has a day like this in their personal calanders. But what do you do with it? You go outside, we've been couped up all winter, it's time to get out!
So I did what I naturally wanted to do, go for a run. I laced up my Barefoot Merril Trail Gloves and I took off down the trail, my mind was sort of all over the place when I started. I was thinking about work and I was thinking about house issues and some family things and I had no idea how far I wanted to go and how much time I had to get there. Then I remembered that I had a few errands to do so I grapped some papers for my realtor (we finally sold my old place, whew!!), and a small sport sack I would need to pick up some things at CVS and a charger at the Apple store. As I was headed into town I started thinking about the National Marathon that will be taking place the next day. I ran that marathon every year for the past 4 and some kind of spring marathon every year for 6 years. It's just what I do...or did. Not this year because I was injured most of last year and didn't want to rush my body back to fast, I may have decided to do a fall trail marathon if I find one close. I started thinking about how much work and fun and work went in to doing a marathon. They can be grueling but they can be very rewarding. You really learn a little more about yourself when ever you do one, when ever you pass any test for that matter.
So I was inspired that today, on this, the first day of Spring, I will run 6.2 miles (I'll leave the first 20 up to my marathon brothers-in -arms). I had not run that far for 9 months and I run nataurally now so my feet might not even be ready for a run that far. But I had to try and sometimes trying is enough because on this day I ran my 6.2 miles (maybe 6.5 really, I wanted to be sure) and it felt good. I saw a lot of interesting things and I felt a lot of interesting things and I even composed a poem.
I am loving this perfect weather day!
what it does to my soul,
and what it does to my my spirit,
to be outside in it.
Runnin' and gunnin' and soaking it in,
I can't wait for his dreams to begin.
Climbing trees and hills and heights unknown,
together we run b'never alone
Right?!?!
The run felt great even though the balls of my feet are really sore still from the races on the past two weekends all is well, all systems go!
.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
race report
Trail running is a great way to experience something old in a whole new venue. I get to be up close and personal with rocks and roots and trees and streams and creeks and incredibly steep hills all with fairly unsure footing. I love it, it's much more fun then running on the road. Sometimes I fall, but usually not. I use my stopwatch just to get a rough idea of how much longer I need to endure the suffering that comes with a race. The actual race time doesn't matter much because all trail race distances are an educated guess at best. The first race was like 5.5 miles and the second was 5.6 miles. I got to strap on my new natural running trail shoes and mix it up with about 400 of my new best buddies.
I was hooked the first time I did one of these races. My good friend Sara (also a successful Personal Trainer) told me she likes to do them all and I should join her next time. Gentlemen, if a good looking and athletic red head says, "come join me it will be fun!" Do not question her!!! Back then I was in the middle of an impressive, if not daunting, stretch of 11 marathons, 6 half-iron triathlons and 2 full Ironman in a 7 year period. I was getting a little burned out by the road and was looking for a change. So I signed up for the full four race series of 10 mile trail runs. There is a 5 or 10 mile option but at that time going big was second nature for me. I was excited because everything was new. The gun went off and off I went, over the creeks and up the hills deep into my "dark place" and about an hour and change later I finished and headed towards the finish line buffet. Pizza, cookies and a coke later and I was human again. "Let's go check the results," she said. We wondered over to the results page paper clipped to the finish chute fence. I found my age group and started looking for my name. I started in the middle and started slowly moving my eyes up. I have never won a race before in my life. So I was pretty shocked when I found my name atop the list. "I won my age group." I said quietly to Sara and anybody else in earshot. I won my first pub glass. I was very proud. 2 weeks ago I began my comeback trail, well, on the trail. This time I entered the 5 mile race. I was more concerned about how my body would feel then how many fools I could beat to the line. I found a pace that was hard but sustainable, some people passed me I passed some other people, I was running and it felt great. When I got to the finish I was pleased with my effort and pleased to see that I had placed 4th, doing the approximately 5.5 miles in 43:43. Another race, another pub glass. After the race my Plantar Faciatis really flared up. I really wanted to put some arch support under my feet. Next time I will bring shoes to change into for sure. I was worried that the balls of my feet would hurt but they didn't, just the arches and the heel. The rest of my body actually felt really good. Because of the stress of the race and the stress of the work week I only had time to run one day in the week between the races, a pleasant and flat 4 miles on the Cap C Trail.
The second race was supposed to be the easiest on the circuit. 5.5 miles of almost completely flat and only two serious hills. The main difference this week was that a great portion of the trail was made up of smaller, sharper rocks. The balls of my feet really feel it this time. I crossed the line in 41:40 but only managed a 5th place. No worries, I was still able to take my 20th pub glass home, keeping my string of 20 straight podiums in 20 trail races. I changed into more supportive shoes for the awards ceremony and pizza brunch. This time my Plantar only was moderately annoyed but the balls of the feet felt bruised. Nothing a good massage couldn't help.
Bottom line here? I don't really have one, I suppose if I was creative enough I could have spun a tale about not losing sight of the forest for the trees. Anyway, next race is in 2 weeks and I can't wait.
I was hooked the first time I did one of these races. My good friend Sara (also a successful Personal Trainer) told me she likes to do them all and I should join her next time. Gentlemen, if a good looking and athletic red head says, "come join me it will be fun!" Do not question her!!! Back then I was in the middle of an impressive, if not daunting, stretch of 11 marathons, 6 half-iron triathlons and 2 full Ironman in a 7 year period. I was getting a little burned out by the road and was looking for a change. So I signed up for the full four race series of 10 mile trail runs. There is a 5 or 10 mile option but at that time going big was second nature for me. I was excited because everything was new. The gun went off and off I went, over the creeks and up the hills deep into my "dark place" and about an hour and change later I finished and headed towards the finish line buffet. Pizza, cookies and a coke later and I was human again. "Let's go check the results," she said. We wondered over to the results page paper clipped to the finish chute fence. I found my age group and started looking for my name. I started in the middle and started slowly moving my eyes up. I have never won a race before in my life. So I was pretty shocked when I found my name atop the list. "I won my age group." I said quietly to Sara and anybody else in earshot. I won my first pub glass. I was very proud. 2 weeks ago I began my comeback trail, well, on the trail. This time I entered the 5 mile race. I was more concerned about how my body would feel then how many fools I could beat to the line. I found a pace that was hard but sustainable, some people passed me I passed some other people, I was running and it felt great. When I got to the finish I was pleased with my effort and pleased to see that I had placed 4th, doing the approximately 5.5 miles in 43:43. Another race, another pub glass. After the race my Plantar Faciatis really flared up. I really wanted to put some arch support under my feet. Next time I will bring shoes to change into for sure. I was worried that the balls of my feet would hurt but they didn't, just the arches and the heel. The rest of my body actually felt really good. Because of the stress of the race and the stress of the work week I only had time to run one day in the week between the races, a pleasant and flat 4 miles on the Cap C Trail.
The second race was supposed to be the easiest on the circuit. 5.5 miles of almost completely flat and only two serious hills. The main difference this week was that a great portion of the trail was made up of smaller, sharper rocks. The balls of my feet really feel it this time. I crossed the line in 41:40 but only managed a 5th place. No worries, I was still able to take my 20th pub glass home, keeping my string of 20 straight podiums in 20 trail races. I changed into more supportive shoes for the awards ceremony and pizza brunch. This time my Plantar only was moderately annoyed but the balls of the feet felt bruised. Nothing a good massage couldn't help.
Bottom line here? I don't really have one, I suppose if I was creative enough I could have spun a tale about not losing sight of the forest for the trees. Anyway, next race is in 2 weeks and I can't wait.
a little test
I have long been a believer that if you really want to test yourself, if you really want to see what you are made of then you need to compete. Competition causes people to really push themselves beyond their own perceived limits. "I never thought I could go that far, or that fast, or that high or lift that much, but I really wanted to beat that person or my previous best time, etc." People can never really do more work than is possible but people can always do more work than they thought was possible. I learned this lesson way back in high school.
It was my senior year and I was running what I suspected would be my last official race representing the school colors. It was the Fall of 1985 (I did not have a Members Only jacket but I did have an Indiana Jones hat, acid washed jeans and big hair. I was listening to Squeeze and George Thorogood and The Police) and I was one of the stars, well...participants, of the cross country team and I really wanted to beat this one particular guy from a rival school. Why was I so concerned with this dude? I'm not sure, we were both middle of the pack runners, we rarely if ever figured into the scoring of our teams (only the top 5 score for each team, I was usually the 6 or 7 runner). But this dude really bugged me. First of all, he was a big guy. What the hell is a big guy doing in a cross country race? He was built like a linebacker or a power forward (a private prep school version not a college scholarship version), he didn't look like he could run far or fast!!! I, on the other hand do (well...did), look like I could run far and fast. In fact, I feel like did both... regularly!!! Second of all, his running style made it look like he was not even trying, he looked like he was running slow, jogging. He kind of lumbered down the trail, with heavy feet and slumped shoulders and a protruding brow. OK, not really a protruding brow, he wasn't a caveman but you get the point. So early in the season when out teams ran a dual meet and he passed me with a mile to go in the race. I tried to follow him, this Neanderthal with his distinctive style. I was getting more and more frustrated that this big dude with the slow feet was beating me, the fast kid, at my sport! You don't see me trying to slam dunk over big kids on the basketball court. I never did catch him but I never forgot him and 3 weeks later our teams met again, this time at a big invitational meet with 25-30 teams of 9 kids each. I wasn't sure I'd even see him. I just wanted to run my race and do my best for the team. But with about a mile to go I spotted him up in the distance. He looked brutish and awkward, like he was going to trip any second. I picked up the pace a little, I was going to catch him about 200m from the finish then blow past him as I whoooshed into the finishing chute and into the arms of the cute cheerleader. But, again, it was not to be. He felt me closing in and right at about 200m to go he broke into a sprint that sucked the will right out of me. There will be no beating rivals this week, no self-indulgent pride, no confidence boosting cheerleaders. So we flash forward several weeks to the conference championship race. All 8 teams, best 9 runners each on the toughest course on our schedule all running the one race that we all have been training for all year. The one race we wanted to win more than any other. It was a cold and windy day in late November, everything was gray and stark. The only color was the red on our cheeks and the Blue and Gold on our singlets. I lost sight of my unknowing rival and soon forgot about him. I was simply trying to run as fast as I could in order to stay ahead of the 2 or 3 guys breathing down my neck. But again with about a mile to go I saw the lumbering fool. This time I was going to leave nothing to chance. Impossibly, I picked up my pace even faster and not only did I pass him I flew past him in two steps, like he was standing still. "When you pass don't look back, just look ahead to the next guy you are going to pass!!" I heard my coach’s voice in my head. "Looking back is a sign of weakness," is another one of his sayings that kept bouncing around. I was right at my limit, right at the red line. I broke out into the last open field. The finish line was just at the other side 300m away and closing fast...250m and my season and my rivalry would be over...200m and my lungs were searing and my legs were on fire but redemption will soon be mine...150m and I started to hear a load cheer from somebody's dad, "Go Dexter GO!!" 50m to go and the finish line is close enough to touch, then out of nowhere Dexter blew past me so fuckin' fast I swear to this day I heard a sonic boom. The lumbering idiot beat me again. I finished one second behind him and pretended my momentum (or frustration) caused me to push him over in the finish chute. I was pissed. I cried a little, more because it was the end of my scholastic running career then because I couldn't ever beat the guy. I have been known to cry at the end of really hard events that leave me completely drained. So what's the lesson here? What can be learned from getting beat by the same guy three times? 17:52 that's what. It was, is and always will be my fastest time ever in a 5k. I have never before or since come close. I've gone under 20 minutes a bunch and even under 19 once on a downhill course but never could touch sub-18. I was able to push myself beyond my perceived limit because the competition caused me to force my body into new territory.
Here I am again, pushing myself into a new territory, running on familiar trails with some unfamiliar shoes and a forefoot striking stride. I raced twice on the last two consecutive weekends, 5 mile trial races both. My feet hurt but the pain is eased by the pub glasses I brought home by placing in the top 5 in my age group each time. In true cliff hanger tradition I'll report more on those two races next time because this blog has gone on long enough.
Bottom line is that competition brings out the best in us and I like it. Who wants to join me next week? www.ex2adventures.com
It was my senior year and I was running what I suspected would be my last official race representing the school colors. It was the Fall of 1985 (I did not have a Members Only jacket but I did have an Indiana Jones hat, acid washed jeans and big hair. I was listening to Squeeze and George Thorogood and The Police) and I was one of the stars, well...participants, of the cross country team and I really wanted to beat this one particular guy from a rival school. Why was I so concerned with this dude? I'm not sure, we were both middle of the pack runners, we rarely if ever figured into the scoring of our teams (only the top 5 score for each team, I was usually the 6 or 7 runner). But this dude really bugged me. First of all, he was a big guy. What the hell is a big guy doing in a cross country race? He was built like a linebacker or a power forward (a private prep school version not a college scholarship version), he didn't look like he could run far or fast!!! I, on the other hand do (well...did), look like I could run far and fast. In fact, I feel like did both... regularly!!! Second of all, his running style made it look like he was not even trying, he looked like he was running slow, jogging. He kind of lumbered down the trail, with heavy feet and slumped shoulders and a protruding brow. OK, not really a protruding brow, he wasn't a caveman but you get the point. So early in the season when out teams ran a dual meet and he passed me with a mile to go in the race. I tried to follow him, this Neanderthal with his distinctive style. I was getting more and more frustrated that this big dude with the slow feet was beating me, the fast kid, at my sport! You don't see me trying to slam dunk over big kids on the basketball court. I never did catch him but I never forgot him and 3 weeks later our teams met again, this time at a big invitational meet with 25-30 teams of 9 kids each. I wasn't sure I'd even see him. I just wanted to run my race and do my best for the team. But with about a mile to go I spotted him up in the distance. He looked brutish and awkward, like he was going to trip any second. I picked up the pace a little, I was going to catch him about 200m from the finish then blow past him as I whoooshed into the finishing chute and into the arms of the cute cheerleader. But, again, it was not to be. He felt me closing in and right at about 200m to go he broke into a sprint that sucked the will right out of me. There will be no beating rivals this week, no self-indulgent pride, no confidence boosting cheerleaders. So we flash forward several weeks to the conference championship race. All 8 teams, best 9 runners each on the toughest course on our schedule all running the one race that we all have been training for all year. The one race we wanted to win more than any other. It was a cold and windy day in late November, everything was gray and stark. The only color was the red on our cheeks and the Blue and Gold on our singlets. I lost sight of my unknowing rival and soon forgot about him. I was simply trying to run as fast as I could in order to stay ahead of the 2 or 3 guys breathing down my neck. But again with about a mile to go I saw the lumbering fool. This time I was going to leave nothing to chance. Impossibly, I picked up my pace even faster and not only did I pass him I flew past him in two steps, like he was standing still. "When you pass don't look back, just look ahead to the next guy you are going to pass!!" I heard my coach’s voice in my head. "Looking back is a sign of weakness," is another one of his sayings that kept bouncing around. I was right at my limit, right at the red line. I broke out into the last open field. The finish line was just at the other side 300m away and closing fast...250m and my season and my rivalry would be over...200m and my lungs were searing and my legs were on fire but redemption will soon be mine...150m and I started to hear a load cheer from somebody's dad, "Go Dexter GO!!" 50m to go and the finish line is close enough to touch, then out of nowhere Dexter blew past me so fuckin' fast I swear to this day I heard a sonic boom. The lumbering idiot beat me again. I finished one second behind him and pretended my momentum (or frustration) caused me to push him over in the finish chute. I was pissed. I cried a little, more because it was the end of my scholastic running career then because I couldn't ever beat the guy. I have been known to cry at the end of really hard events that leave me completely drained. So what's the lesson here? What can be learned from getting beat by the same guy three times? 17:52 that's what. It was, is and always will be my fastest time ever in a 5k. I have never before or since come close. I've gone under 20 minutes a bunch and even under 19 once on a downhill course but never could touch sub-18. I was able to push myself beyond my perceived limit because the competition caused me to force my body into new territory.
Here I am again, pushing myself into a new territory, running on familiar trails with some unfamiliar shoes and a forefoot striking stride. I raced twice on the last two consecutive weekends, 5 mile trial races both. My feet hurt but the pain is eased by the pub glasses I brought home by placing in the top 5 in my age group each time. In true cliff hanger tradition I'll report more on those two races next time because this blog has gone on long enough.
Bottom line is that competition brings out the best in us and I like it. Who wants to join me next week? www.ex2adventures.com
Thursday, March 1, 2012
How I reconnected with the earth
I have my first trail race coming up this Sunday. It is the first race I've done of any kind since last June when I hobbled, under trained and injured, thru the DC Tri. It was right after that race, or maybe during, that I decided to take a month off of running just to let my budding Plantar Faciatis heal. Or is it heel? I had to let my heel heal. Well a month turned into the summer, which lead into the year. I was a DNS to my entire 2011 race schedule. The Annapolis 10, The Nations Tri, the Pocono 70.3, a fall marathon TBD, the Fall Backyard Burn trail race series, the turkey trot and a few other random 5k-10k's.
But as you, my "faithful 4", as I shall now refer to you my dedicated following, already know...I AM BACK!!! I have signed up for and am super excited to do the Spring Backyard Burn trail run series. The first race is this Sunday. I have competed in this series 5 times in the past several, always in the 10 mile races and always with success. I don't think I have ever finished one of the great trail races from www.ex2adventures.com without being on the podium somewhere. I've collected a cool set of branded pub glasses, each with that races finishing place and the EX2 logo. My wife loves them, she thinks they are charming and practical and a testament to the virility of her lifelong mate and companion. And by that I mean she thinks they are a hideous white trashy eyesore and must be hidden from sight, banished to that death row of knick knacks...storage. I think they are cool. So far they have stayed. So far.
So here I am. About to embark on the first official step, as evidenced by the entry fee and tee shirt, towards my BHAG (big, hairy, audacious goal). A set of 5 mile (stepping back, inside my new limits, go me) trail runs in my new natural running trail shoes. I figured that even though I am easing into this I better put a few dirty miles on them so I did the same run as last week to RCP. This time I fell. Hard. I laughed as I brushed myself off and checked for structural damage. No big deal, it happens from time to time. I have a picture of an awesome raspberry I gave myself in a race a few years back. It won an award from the Race Director at the pub glass ceremony (I'd show you the pic if I could figure out how to pull it off my iPhone 3). This time I'm not so sure a pub glass is coming home to join his 13 other friends. I'm slower now, but it's OK. It'll just feel good to get out in the fresh air and push my new body to its new limits, in different directions.
40 minute run with 30-34 on dirt
But as you, my "faithful 4", as I shall now refer to you my dedicated following, already know...I AM BACK!!! I have signed up for and am super excited to do the Spring Backyard Burn trail run series. The first race is this Sunday. I have competed in this series 5 times in the past several, always in the 10 mile races and always with success. I don't think I have ever finished one of the great trail races from www.ex2adventures.com without being on the podium somewhere. I've collected a cool set of branded pub glasses, each with that races finishing place and the EX2 logo. My wife loves them, she thinks they are charming and practical and a testament to the virility of her lifelong mate and companion. And by that I mean she thinks they are a hideous white trashy eyesore and must be hidden from sight, banished to that death row of knick knacks...storage. I think they are cool. So far they have stayed. So far.
So here I am. About to embark on the first official step, as evidenced by the entry fee and tee shirt, towards my BHAG (big, hairy, audacious goal). A set of 5 mile (stepping back, inside my new limits, go me) trail runs in my new natural running trail shoes. I figured that even though I am easing into this I better put a few dirty miles on them so I did the same run as last week to RCP. This time I fell. Hard. I laughed as I brushed myself off and checked for structural damage. No big deal, it happens from time to time. I have a picture of an awesome raspberry I gave myself in a race a few years back. It won an award from the Race Director at the pub glass ceremony (I'd show you the pic if I could figure out how to pull it off my iPhone 3). This time I'm not so sure a pub glass is coming home to join his 13 other friends. I'm slower now, but it's OK. It'll just feel good to get out in the fresh air and push my new body to its new limits, in different directions.
40 minute run with 30-34 on dirt
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