4 x 6

It used to be de rigueur for my training; four six-mile out and back loops on the Lester Rail Trail. It's been a good year since I've done it, and given my current situation, it would be a challenge. Incidentally, de rigueur is defined as, 'Necessary according to etiquette, protocol or fashion.'

2018 had been going okay: some decent racing, including a pretty-good half a couple weeks back. But then I had a recent setback: more - much more - than usual Achilles pain during last week's long run. Maybe the racing and speedwork hadn't been such a great idea after all. So now I didn't know whether 24 was doable.

The weather didn't help. Cold rain is not my favorite meteorological situation. I thought I could beat some of the predicted rain by starting early, so I got going just before 4:00 AM. Thought I could have six dry miles in by the time Debbie Scheel arrived at 5:00 AM.

It didn't happen. I did get six in, but they most certainly were not dry. It was raining from the start, and although it eased up at times, it never quit completely. And it never got any warmer, either.

Debbie ran eight with me before she had to leave. At that point, it was beginning to rain harder again, so I almost quit at 14. Then at 16 and 18. But despite the cold and the wet, and the fact that my Achilles was now talking (loudly) to me,  I managed to keep going again and again.

But then by 21 and change, I was done done. (I like that term, 'done done' - I've heard it several times lately.)

21 is not 24. I know this because I minored in math. But I'll take it. What other choice is there?

County Line Trail 10K

There was a time when I used to eat 10Ks for breakfast. Sub-39 minute 10Ks at that. Today's goal was to run a steady 8-minute pace. If I could do that, I'd be happy.

The County Line Trail is a rails-to-trails all-purpose asphalt path in Creston, which is close to Seville. That's Seville, Ohio, not to be confused with Sevilla, Spain. It's a friendly little race, with lots of MCRR participation. And we finally had a fairly warmish day to run.

Everyone got out ahead of me, but that was okay. A lot of them were doing the 5K, anyway. I kept my splits just under eight minutes each. Until, that is, the 5K turnaround. Then a funny thing happened: I slowed down. Good thing I had Ladd Clifford to run with for those late miles. He kept me from slowing even further.

I finished in 50:30 for about an 8:07 pace. I was 2nd in my age group.

And now I'm gonna pay. The old Achilles is talking to me already.

Like There's no Tomorrow

Run Like There's no Tomorrow. That's the not-so-secret secret to a great race performance, isn't it?

Except there is. There always is. You get home, rest up, and then tomorrow you begin training for your next race.

Last week I ran that half-marathon like there was no tomorrow. Today, I am preparing for this morning's County Line Trail 10k, going through the usual pre-race preparation that I make up as I go along. For the first time ever, I try Bio-Freeze. It's like the old smelly Ben Gay stuff that we were all familiar with in my younger days. I almost never used the stuff myself; I just smelled it on other people. Similarly, Bio-Freeze smells bad, and I never used it. Until now.

I'm using it because my Achilles Tendonitis is acting up again. Yes, it's the same AT that I've been dealing with for four or five years now. The pain never goes away completely, but it does subside, to some extent, when I don't push things too far.

The trouble is, I have been pushing things too far. I wanted to get some of my speed back, and the way to do that (to run faster) is to run faster. I have indeed been doing a lot more racing, and also some speedwork. And the trouble with that is, it's taking its toll. Especially when I race like there's no tomorrow.

Union Hospital Run for Home Half-Marathon

1:50. It had a nice ring to it. I did better than that at a couple halfs last year. But that was last year. I had no idea whether it was in the cards this year or not.

After seeing several running friends - some unexpectedly - we got going. I started with the 1:50 pace group, figuring that would keep me on an even keel. It did. Together with me were Doug Hradek and Ray Miller. I learned that Doug has graduated from our age group, so I thought I would only need to beat Ray.

The group held together until about half-way. At that point, the leader stopped to use a portable toilet, and Doug and I kept going. Ray had fallen back. Doug and I were back and forth. He would get ahead on the uphills, and I would catch up on the downsides. At one point, I yelled from behind, "What do you get when you kiss a canary?" He didn't know, so I answered myself: "Chirpies." Then, after a moment's hesitation, "Chirpies is a canarial disease."

I think it worked. Not right away though. We ran together a while longer, but I pulled ahead in the final mile. My time was 1:49, good for an 8:16 pace, and third in my ancient age group (I thought I'd be first). As usual, I'll take it. I have a way to go before I get back to where I was at last year. At least the pace was steady.


L to R before the start: Tim Pepe, Ladd Clifford and me