Aren't you afraid your lungs will freeze?

This one ranks right up there with, "I get tired just driving that far!" and, "Your knees will wear out!" The come-back, of course, is, "That might happen, but there are plenty of other body parts that will freeze first." By this, I'm considering the ones protected by the two pairs of undies with the extra insulation in the front.

6F. Been a while since it was this cold for one of my runs. The most recent one I can remember is the 2018 Landis Loonies Marathon, where it was in the neighborhood of 3F, with a godawful wind chill. I'm happy to report that there was no wind this morning. In fact, I saw the moon and stars for a change.

I could have stayed on the mill. I did yesterday, to the tune of 19 miles, and I've been doing so for roughly half of my runs this winter. But today, I was going out no matter what. I get that attitude after a couple consecutive mill days.

It wasn't a particularly great run. But it was better than the alternative. Best of all, it's done.

My Left Appendage

There was a movie called, My Left Foot, about a guy who had cerebral palsy and could move only his left foot and yet became a painter, poet, and author. I had a similar disability during today's run, but with my left hand. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't so similar. In fact, I could move everything except my left hand. The problem was that my left hand became so cold that I lost all feeling in it. This is not completely unusual for me on such a cold day, but today it was particularly bad. I think the problem was that my watch was on too tight. I'll have to "watch" this in the future.

Regardless of my hand's functionality, today's run was yet another lousy one; yet another failure to launch. I ran 12 miles in the time it should have taken to do 18. And I felt like I had done 28. This, and all the other recent poor running led to a decision: I had to let Coach Sven go. It was sad, but he was just not getting the job done. (The job, of course, has been to get me to become a good runner.)

I know. I liked him too. Sven and I go way back. I hope that we will remain good friends. At least as much as possible. It's tough when one of said friends happens to be invisible. And who knows? Maybe I will hire him back someday.

Coach Sven Report: No Long Run for Dan

Hi, Sven here. Dan did not complete a long run during the past week, and that's the first time in a while. I am slightly concerned.

The problem is, he spends too much time on the treadmill, which acts as a crutch for him. If it's just the least bit cold or snowy (like every single day), Dan can easily talk himself out of going outside at all. His nice, warm mill beckons. Sometimes, he goes as far as to get himself all dressed out to go out the door, but still doesn't make it, changing his mind and heading down to the basement at the last minute.

He does get out occasionally, however. Like today's easy run (aren't they all easy these days?), and Friday's eleven-miler. But Friday's run was going to be long, and eleven was a slight disappointment. So was yesterday's second consecutive long-run attempt, this time on the mill. 

Oh well. Next week is another week. Maybe Dan will get his butt moving better. Hope springs eternal.

The Coach Sven Report, January, 2021

Hello, Invisible Coach Sven here. Dan has mentioned me in this blog from time to time, but now I'm taking it over. Oh, I'll give it back to Dan someday. Maybe.

I should mention that I'm growing concerned about Dan. Yes, of course he's old and getting older. And yes, of course that old age means he's running slower than ever. But what worries me most is his utter lack of motivation. This appears to be a new problem. I am working on it, but it's tough out there. 

Here are some notes from a conversation I had on a recent run on the Lester Rail Trail with Dan.

~

Yes, I know it's a long run, but you're moving pretty slow, old friend.

I know. Of course, I'm faster than you. I always have been. But that's not saying much these days. It doesn't matter anyhow, because I'm the coach and you are my charge. Our goal is to get YOU to run faster, better, and stronger.

Don't tell me to do that. Especially not with my dear mother. Now, you don't need to run all that fast today. Just try to keep a steady pace for all 18 miles.

You shouldn't say things like that about my family. Even though you're getting tired, try to keep the pace up.

You want to what to my face? Please, just concentrate on your run. You are slowing down way too much, and your form has gone to sh!t.

Ouch! Hey, if you attack me further, I will quit being your coach.

No, wait. I didn't really mean it. I will still be your coach no matter what.

Ouch! Stop that now! Okay, only a few miles to go. Stop shuffling like that, Try to be mindful of your form.

Ouch!

The Old Man and the EEEEEEE!

Invisible Coach Sven is reasonably happy with his charge, Dan. Dan's mileage is back to seventy-ish per week. Some of his recent runs aren't too awful. Best of all, today Dan is back at the track for the second week in a row.

Coach Sven has Dan doing 5 x 1600 today. It doesn't have to be a super-fast or otherwise superb workout today; just solid and consistent. Most of all, says Sven, it should be sustainable and something to build on. Sustainable can mean a lot of different things, including the ability to run again tomorrow, the ability to keep the mileage up, and the ability to continue to do speedwork such as this each week or so. That entails remaining (mostly) injury-free. 

Dan does okay for his first three 1600s. He's happy to start number four, because now he can start using the mantra, only one to go (after this one). The goosepoop that was such a problem during last week's run is less so today. It's a week older and more frozen this time. Even so, Dan dances around it, trying to keep his shoes clean. Two laps down, thinks Dan, and only two to go, before that last one. It's at this moment - Dan half-done with his fourth interval and Sven cheering from the stands - that it happens.

"EEEEEEE!" and then "Fudge!" yells Dan (except the word wasn't fudge). He just pulled his right calf muscle. Sven yells, "Stop now!" and Dan does. He knows it's not like Sven to get this excited, so he doesn't question the order.

Dan will now have to cut back on his training until his calf heals up. And until Sven says it's okay.

30K

Long ago, some running guru stated that 30K was the minimum distance for a long run. I don't know how or why he arrived at that exact figure, but he probably had some reason. Maybe because it takes at least two and a half hours or more for the average runner to complete. That amount of time (and now way more than that for me) does take some doing. For some reason, the whole idea stuck with me. Now, 30K is 18.6 miles, and I have conveniently truncated the 0.6-mile, such that I call any sojourn that's over 18 miles a "long run." 

Now that we have that out of the way, I can tell you that I try to do a long run every week, whether I need it or not. Of course, there are long runs and there are long runs. Today's was a long run... on the treadmill. Hey, don't judge me. It was cold outside. To make up for my inside-related wimpiness, I ran an extra quarter-mile (making it 18.25 miles) in order to get a little closer to 30K.

Someday, I'll become a real runner again.

Full On CVNP Hiking Report - First Hikes (includes a bit of running content)

Full On CVNP is a virtual event put on by Western Reserve Racing. Participants are provided information about 24 hikes in Cuyahoga Valley National Park and complete them at their own pace. When complete, all of the 115 miles of park trails will have been traversed. Here is the story of my first couple of "hikes."

After parking in Jaite (corner of Riverview and Snowville), I take the connector trail over to Snowville Road. Oh, the muck! It's unavoidable, and it's ankle-deep. Shoe-sucking deep. And there's no place else to go. After an hour or so of mucking around, I complete the 0.1-mile segment. My plan had been to go North on the Buckeye Trail (BT) for the first hike on the list. It's a 5.6-mile route, where I'd return via the Valley Trail. I take a look to the right only to see that the BT in that direction is every bit as bad as the portion I'd just muddled through.

I consider quitting completely, but hey - I've come all this way. I'd be all dressed up with no place to go. So I venture across the street and start the BT South route. I don't know that much about this one; I'd only researched the BT North route for today. But my thought was that since BT North was first on the list (the hikes can be done in any order), too many hikers have gone that way, destroying the trail and leaving 300 kilograms of mud in their wake.

There is less mud this way. But only a little less. I ascend the steep hill, and this finally gets my heart pumping. The trail on the higher ground does appear to be slightly better.

It's quiet and peaceful here in the middle of the woods. No other human beings are about. It's snowing a little. I am actually enjoying myself. After about 2.6 miles (but not before some more bad muddy areas), I emerge, tired from the hills and the mud, onto Columbia Road. There are now three choices: keep going on the BT to wind up at Boston Mills (not a good option because it would involve several more miles of muck, and then I'd still need to get back to Jaite), turn around and go back the way I came (not a good option because it just about killed me to get even this far), or turn onto Columbia and then Riverview to return to Jaite via the roads (the only viable option). Which do you think I would go with?

Jogging back, I manage to make it to the parking area, clean off my shoes a little, stumble into the car, and drive home. 

That was yesterday. I later learned that the BT South Hike was exactly what I did (except you're supposed to return on the trail instead of the road). Close enough - I get credit for hike 1! Now I'm starting out in the dark on my second hike. Except for me, it's a run, not a walk. It's on the Towpath (TP) after all.

Starting at Lock 29 in Peninsula, I go North on the TP, turn around at the Boston Store, and return the same way. Now, this is what I call fun. I love running on the TP. It's impossible to beat.

When I do return, I start immediately on hike #3. This is a run as well. It involves taking the TP South to Hunt Farm and returning the same way. This is even more fun. I was born to do this.

11 1/2 miles for the day. 3 hikes down, 21 to go. As for the rest, if they're not on the TP, I'll wait for the mud to solidify.

Buckeye Trail South - mud galore

Something of Slight Substance and the Tale of Two Tracks

One track just isn't enough for me. It's actually been about two months (since I've been to any track at all), and I'd been in danger of yet another failure to launch. But no. After seven (yes, seven) miles of warmup, I'm finally moving. I decide as I'm going that I'll do four-ish 800 repeats, rather than a 1600, a tempo trot, or anything else. I don't know why - maybe because it's about all I have time for. But another decision must be made, and fast: which lane is best?

Half the track is covered with goose poop. I hadn't noticed it earlier, because it was dark. In the meantime, I'd gone over to the Medina High School track for a few before returning here to Claggett Middle School to get serious. Also in the meantime, it's gotten light. This is taking way too long. Back to the decision: lane four seems to be the most goose poop free. I head over there for the backstretch and parts of the turns. I do this for each of the repeats.

I get my four 800s in, and it actually felt good. Maybe I can build on this. 

Maybe.

Time on my feet

For the ten-zillionth time, the coffee hasn't completely kicked in. Oh, it generally helps a little, and I'm far worse off without it. But even with it, I'm not truly with it. On this day and many others, I just can't quite get myself up to top speed.

I should add that top speed for me ain't what it used to be. It always used to help to run with my training partners, but that's something I don't do at all anymore. Going to a track or participating in a race can also do the trick. But I don't do those anymore either. No, I wouldn't consider Friday's Brunswick Marathon an actual race. It was more of a training run, at least the way I did it. A training run for survival.

Today's sojourn begins with thoughts of scouting out a new ten-mile course. I have plenty of courses, but it's sometimes fun to explore new possibilities. You would think that I know all of the streets around my Brunswick, Ohio home, and I mostly do. But sometimes there are new combinations to be had. And sometimes a run will bring me down a road that is somewhat less traveled. It's good to explore. Kind of.

But exploring when I'm this tired makes the world go by much more slowly, whilst I stumble along. I take the familiar track up Hickory Ridge, Pearl, Keller-Hanna, then circle around the high school, trying to avoid the goose poopsicles again (like on Friday), then I explore Miller Road, Miner, and Gary. I return on Oxford and through the path to Jefferson before doing a couple extra miles around the other President streets. Really, not much new or unusual at all. Except to say that my early slow pace has only gotten slower.

Yesterday's run was slower still. But I did explore more then, running on a couple roads that may have been entirely new to me. After exploring the gem streets (Emerald, Topaz, Ruby, etc.), I crossed over Substation and turned West onto Cessna and then Cheyney. These roads were quiet and they went on for a good ways; my kind of running course.

Running slow doesn't make you slow. Not running fast makes you slow. I'm guilty of both. All the exploring is just fine. But all my slow training (with no fast stuff to speak of) manifested itself in a terribly slothful marathon. Yes, time on my feet counts for something. Finishing a "race" or run is nice, but it's no substitute for running well. So now I feel the need to get moving again.

The question is, when?

2021 Brunswick Marathon

Here's the story of my 2021 Brunswick Marathon, hazard by hazard.

Hazard 1 - Cops: Curfew ends at 5:00 AM, yet I want to start earlier than that. Even though it’s unlikely that cops would bother with busting a runner, I thought they might want to question a guy pulling in and parking his car in an otherwise empty lot near Panera (which is also adjacent to Panini’s bar) this early on New Year’s Day morning. Therefore there was a change in plans. Instead of parking there, I jogged a mile from home, over to the course, where I deposited my blue bag of water, making that spot on Jefferson Street my aid station. In retrospect, I probably should have worried more about cops pulling me over for wearing tights like these. It turned out that I did see some cops on foot near the high school. (“Watch out for the ice,” they said. “Okay, thanks,” I replied.) Other cops were driving around, but there wasn't much in the way of other traffic.

Hazard 2 - Drunks: I was conscious and aware that any drivers who aren’t cops that are out so early on New Year’s Day are likely to be drunk from the night before. And so when a car went by slowly, honking and with someone yelling loudly out the window at me (this was on 303, just after I’d crossed over), I thought they were probably just out from the night before. Later, when I stopped and talked with Andy and Michelle Wolff, they asked if I saw them go by, yelling and screaming at me. So it wasn’t drunk people after all. At least, I don’t think they were in such a state just before their own run.

Hazard 3 – Other Runners: I reversed course for every one of my four 6.55-mile loops, and I managed to spot Andy and Michelle going the opposite direction several times. I also saw Larry Orwin and Pete Kostelnick a couple of times. There may have been others.

Hazard 4 – Goose Poopsicles: The road in the back of the high school was not icy this year. Except for the frozen goose turdsicles. The stuff was prolific for a third of a mile or so, and it made the dance to avoid them kind of fun. Kind of. I didn’t see all that many geese during the run, but there were deer galore. Most were around Brunswick Lake.

Hazard 5 – Ice: The weather wasn’t too bad (upper 20s), and by starting so early, I managed to beat the freezing rain that started around 10:00 AM. Although there were a couple of icy spots, most of the course was dry. Except for Hopkins Park. It was especially unsafe for that half-mile.

Hazard 6 – Slowness: This, of course, is the worst hazard of all. I started and finished slowly, but I also ran slowly during the middle of the run. It turned out that my 6.55-mile loop times were fairly consistent, but not in a good way. I think my time (4:55) is probably a personal worst. Never mind that my aid station and necessity stops probably account for thirty or so minutes of that. Even so, I’m not entirely unhappy with the run. And the best part, as they say, is that it’s over.

Returning home with my blue aid-station bag of water, after the cool-down jog from the course.
Thankfully, I wasn't pulled over by the cops for wearing tights like these.