Dan Horvath's Running Blog

I Only Fell Once Today

2012-01-28T07:06:00.000-08:00

There was a good patch of ice underneath the couple inches of new snow. More importantly, only one person - training partner Dave - saw it happen. That's always my concern when I fall - who saw me?

We're now getting our long lost winter weather. It could still be worse, and it could certainly be colder, but over the last few weeks, often as not, we get a couple inches of the white stuff for the day. Most of the time it melts away fairly quickly, but it's starting to get annoying.

I backed out of the last two Saturday group runs (that I was organizing myself in FB), but I did make it out today. Today the group was just Dave and me. And the snow was bad enough, and getting worse as we went. I could've easily missed this one as well as the others, but I didn't. We made it around the big loop okay, snow covered roads and all. We then ran around the lake in the now deeper snow. Still no mishaps, although we were slowing down due to the bad footing.

It was that last two mile loop that got me. Solid ice - Big fall. And it sure hurt me right in the pride.

In and Out Part Deux

2012-01-21T07:14:00.000-08:00

Somewhere in the distant past (maybe a year ago), I blogged about running inside and outside during the winter. Here I go again.

The overly mild winter weather is now gone, and things are back to normal for Cleveland in January. I'd go as far as to say that it could still be way worse. But we are finally getting our fair share of snow and cold. Not that I like it, but I'm not complaining. Wouldn't do any good anyway.

What I am trying to do is to not let it hamper my running. At least not too much. On the one hand, running outside in awful weather helps make us mentally tough. I also prefer not to be too much of a weather wimp (or, if you prefer, 'weather wienie'). But on the other hand, I like to keep at least some quality workouts in my schedule. That's where the mill that I love to hate comes in. So you have toughness on one hand, and quality (read: speedwork) on the other.

What to do? Some of each, of course. I managed to do two pretty good mill speed workouts this week. Unfortunately, the other runs, mostly outside, were pretty poor. They were either lousy because of my fatigue or because of the weather. Perhaps some combination.

The good news is that the sinus infection is cleared up. I've got another day and a half to go on the antibiotics. I'm not in as good condition as I'd hoped for Jacksonville, but it (my current conditioning) will have to do. Things could be worse. Oh yeah. I said that already.

I'm Not Proud of This, But...

2012-01-14T07:15:00.001-08:00

...But I ran 27 miles on my dreadmill this morning. I'm almost never proud of my mill runs. I hold on too darn much. I don't step on the mill any more than I have to; it usually (but doesn't always) depends on the weather. I've had days worse mill runs than today however.

During the run I'd actually had thoughts of doing thirty. I suppose 30 would be something I could be slightly more proud of than 27. But three problems arose: 1) I was beginning to run out of time (although I probably could've still done it), 2) There was only the same old junk on TV, and 3) I got a little tuckered out.

The plan before I had started thinking thirty was for twenty-four. Looking at things this way, I suppose you could say that I exceeded expectations.

The plan before I began thinking of twenty-four was to do fourteen. Outside. And now we get to the heart of the matter.

I set it up myself: a fourteen-mile group run on the Parkway - the last part of the Green Jewel 50K. Several had signed up, so it should have been a good, albeit not so long, training run. Naturally, I like to actually show up for the runs that I set up. But I wimped out. Here's why.

Reason #1: the weather. The winter has been so incredibly mild that when we get a little cold and snow - what would have been a good day last winter - we, including me, go a little crazy with fear. I just didn't want to drive on snowy/icy/slushy streets in order to run on snowy/icy/slushy streets. But I still feel a bit wimpish about not making it.

Reason #2: my wellness. Or lack thereof. I came down with a cold the week before Christmas. That's over three weeks ago. It slowly got better, and then proceeded to get much worse right after New Year's Day. The much worse part is when the sinus infection took hold. Running, and everything else, has been a struggle ever since.

Finally realizing that it's not going away on its own anytime soon, as well as after some nudging by Debbie, I went to the doctor yesterday. So today I'm on amoxicillin. And still running, although many of my recent miles were on the mill. Why take a chance on things getting worse when the outside weather's so lousy anyway?

Unproudly moving foward. That's me.

According to Plan

2012-01-03T06:44:00.000-08:00

In running as in life, some things go according to plan, and some don't. In both endeavors, it's pretty important that we learn to adapt when the detours occur.

Here's a plan: I'm in a race, and at some point I simply run faster than everyone else and win the whole dang thing. Naturally, this plan is only a pipe dream for all but the very best runners at any given race. And it's almost never come to pass for yours truly.

On Saturday I lined up for the first annual MCRR New Years Eve 5K, looked around, and realized that my competitors were mostly kids and older folks. I found myself running with Bob Pokorny, Ladd Clifford and Alan Dravenstott. Ladd wasn't racing, and peeled off. Alan, who I believe is in the eighth grade, slowed just a bit at the turnaround, and Bob (who certainly could've beaten me if he'd tried) fell back to run with Alan. Suddenly there I was, all alone at the front. What do I do now? With Bob coaching Alan to try to catch me, I had to try to run even faster.

I beat the kid, Bob, and everyone else. It was a great victory. Well, I'll call it that anyway. What made it even better was the PR factor: my time was 17:49; I'd never even broken 18 in a 5K before. How did I manage this feat, you ask? I ran the course Jeannine Nicholson designed, and it turned out to be short by about a half mile. I suppose I can't count it as a PR after all. But it's still a win. And it was surely according to plan.

The plan for Sunday was to run Ladd's 5-mile New Years Day Hangover Run. That was all I was going to do because I'd also had plans to do the second annual Landis Loonies Marathon the next day. But then the weather warnings began.

We've been blessed, so far, with an extraordinarily warm and mostly snow-free late autumn / early winter. Everyone's been remarking about it, many saying things like, "We're gonna pay." When we did receive the weather warnings about January 2nd, everyone, including yours truly, was that much more afraid. The storm warnings didn't sound that dyer - just typical winter stuff. But they were enough to freak everyone out.

I began to think that I wouldn't want to drive the hour plus out to New London Ohio in a storm, just to run a little unofficial marathon. Since I'd be running five with the bunch a little later on Sunday, I decided to hedge my marathon bet and also run earlier with Debbie, Debbie and Michelle. Good to see Debbie Fernandez again. This earlier run amounted to ten parkway miles.

This put me at fifteen for the day. I could still conceivably still run the next day's marathon if the weather held. I'd been anticipating going into Panera at the end of the five as we'd done the previous day after the race. That's when Jeannine suggested that I run another hour with her and Bob.

Not that I've ever had any, but this was against my better judgement. It would eliminate any chance I'd have of running a marathon the next day, even though I'd been leaning more and more against the idea anyway. The extra seven or so miles actually went quite well.

I didn't, unfortunately, feel quite well Monday morning. Nothing special - just sore and tired. Certainly not well enough to run a marathon. And the funny thing was, the snow wasn't so bad. I think I could have made it out to New London fairly easily. But the damage had been done. It turned out that I couldn't get myself to run at all yesterday. So I went from a plan to running a marathon to a goose-egg in my running log.

Today is Tuesday. I ran twenty today to atone for yesterday's non-run. Ten out (in the snow which has finally arrived) and ten in (on the mill). It wasn't the greatest running, and it wasn't according to plan.

3,676

2012-01-02T11:33:00.000-08:00

That's the most miles I've ever run in a year. An average of more than ten per day, it beats last year's total of 3,465 by 211. And last year had been the most miles ever to that point by 75. All this becomes (sort of) bad news when combined with my average pace and race results.

My average pace was 8.53 minutes per mile. This is nearly the slowest pace for all the years I have on record. For some reason I managed to run slower (8.7 minutes per mile) in 2009. Last year's average was 8.31, and I thought that was slow.

My best 5K time was about 21 and a half minutes. This compares with times right around 20 minutes in previous years. My best ten-miler was about 71 and a half minutes - several minutes slower than last year. It's the same with the half-marathon (1:33 or so).

Surprisingly, I did manage to run a decent marathon time in 2011: 3:16. This didn't beat my best 2010 time, but it does compare favorably with most of my 'thons of recent years.

I suppose the best news is my ultra times. I ran a 50K PR of 4:24, and actually beat that by a minute en route to my 100K PR of 9:31. I ran some other decent 50K times as well.

So what am I saying here? That I'm running more and running slower? I suppose that's the easiest way to put it. I'd better start hitting the old track.

I Woke Up Lean and Mean

2011-12-19T06:59:00.000-08:00

This is noteworthy because I do so fairly seldom these days. But I have been pounding out the miles, even some with some amount of quality. I stepped on the scale and it read.... 154~! That's the best since BT (Before Turkey).

And I ran well too. After a painfully slow start - the first three miles were at 9:30 pace that felt much faster - I did manage to get down to tempo pace for the required three miles. Today, this was four laps around the high school. Something of Substance - Not bad.

Then it was another slow struggle to get home.

Will I be able to keep the leanness and meanness up? Time will tell..

Things I Saw (and Heard) on My Run Today

2011-12-14T15:47:00.000-08:00

A Run to Remember

It's a familiar story; at least this first part happens every time we are traveling... I wake up a few minutes prior to my 4:00 AM watch alarm. I stumble around the hotel room, trying to make coffee, get dressed, etc. in the dark, without waking Debbie. Eventually, I make it out the door as quietly as I can.

By about 4:40 AM, I've emerged from my hotel, the J.W. Marriott Guanacaste in Costa Rica. Whoa. It's really dark out. I've run in the dark before, but usually with at least some ambient lighting from streets or buildings. After I get away from the hotel itself (where lighting is toned down so as not to attract sea turtles away from their usual routes), there are hardly any other lights around anywhere. I can hardly see a thing.

There is no moon, so the stars are very bright. I look for the Southern Cross. I often see it whilst running in Hawaii, but many of those runs are in late winter and early spring. When I don't find it, I figure that it just hasn't risen yet. I do enjoy the other stars however. Ursa Major, the Big Dipper, is at it's highest point, with its pointer stars pointing out Polaris, the North Star, almost at the horizon. Orion is as spectacular as always, except it appears to be at some odd angle, with Sirius almost at the wrong side. My world is turned upside down (or, more properly, on its side). I can also make out the Milky Way. All of a sudden, I spot a shooting star. That's always a good omen.

I notice that it's surprisingly warm and humid. After only a few minutes of running, I reach what I call the loop road. Its a semi-private road at the Hacienda Pinilla, a resort area that consists of our hotel, a smattering of houses and condos, a golf course, and not much else. I figure the development isn't going as well as planned with the economy and all. It's a good place to run, because the road forms a five-mile loop around the area, and there's almost no traffic.

I ran the loop twice yesterday, so I'm familiar with it. There are a few easy rolling hills; some fields and open land; a golf course and pond; some woods and wilder areas. Perfect.

The goal is three loops today. If I can do each one progressively faster, all the better. I've started a little unevenly, unsure of my footing in the dark. That's okay - better to start slow than end that way.

After only about 15 minutes I'm already beginning to see the first hints of lighter sky to the east. That's also the point when I begin to hear the growling. It starts so low and seems so far away, that it's hardly noticeable. Although it's a scary deep/low growling, howling and roaring, my first thought is that it's only dogs barking somewhere very far away.

But it's not all that far away; as I approach the heavier wooded area, the sound gets louder and louder. It is almost impossible to describe. I've never heard anything quite so primeval; so prehistoric sounding. Am I scared? YOU BET I AM.

Could it be howler monkeys? I didn't think they'd be around here because it isn't exactly part of the rain forest; Guanacaste is a somewhat drier province of Costa Rica. I begin making a mental list of the various animals here that can kill me: jaguars, crocodiles, various snakes, etc. None of them sound like this. I conclude that I must have discovered some previously unknown nest of T-Rex's. And yet I don't turn back.

The noise level continues to increase until I'm past the most heavily wooded area, and then it gradually fades away. I guess I survived, but I never figure out what the heck the noise was.

A car, the first one, comes from behind and passes by. A couple hundred yards ahead, I see the tail-lights swerve around to the side of the road before it continues on. I don't find out why until I reach that same spot. There's a horse standing in the middle of the road, and because of the darkness, it wasn't visible until I was a few feet away. I think he's about as spooked as I am.

It's getting much lighter as I complete the first loop in one piece. That was slow, and I pick the pace up as I begin loop two.

The forest noises are still there, but I don't fear them as much this time. I reflect that this is a strange phenomenon: I still don't know what it is, but since I survived running by once, I figure that I can do so again. If it was something that would kill me, it would be just as deadly this second time around. But I do indeed survive once again.

This time I spot the horse ahead of time. I also see large birds on the road ahead of me. They look like eagles, but I'd learned that they were local hawks. They're on the road, pecking at things like crows do in our parts. When I come by, they grudgingly get out of my way.

The time for my second loop is indeed faster than the first, and after a drink from my stashed water, I begin the third one. The sun is up now, and it's getting even warmer than when I started. I immediately see two large, bright kelley-green birds making a ruckus in a roadside tree. It's tough to get a good look at their heads, but I decide they must be green macaws.

With about a mile to go I spot a dead snake in the middle of the road. It's brown, and not much larger than a garter snake. Just a bit further on, I spot a second dead snake. This one is also fairly small, but it is colorful.

Having dedicated a great deal of brain cells to learning the poem that could save my life, I recall the operative phrase now: 'Red followed by yellow will kill a fellow.' It looks like this:

___________________________________________________________________
red |yellow| black |yellow| red |yellow| black |yellow| red
___________________________________________________________________

The serpent's colors are red, yellow and black, in that order. Yup, it's a coral snake. The head is gone, but it's otherwise intact. I suppose that without a head it won't hurt me. But it occurs to me that I ran by this way twice before - what was it doing then?

I finish up with the third loop being my fastest. It was a good run.

A Little Follow-Up

Later that day I brought Debbie over to see the snake. She helped confirm that it was a coral snake.

I learned that it's rare to see a green macaw. But I'm certain that's what they were.

And the noise? The next day I see, and hear, howler monkeys from a boat, and I determine that that's what made the noise. A couple days later, I actually see them in the trees making their howls. Mystery solved.

Other Costa Rica Running

I ran that loop several more times during my stay. Once I actually did four loops, and even those got progressively faster.

Mid-way through our vacation, we moved to a different hotel (Marriott Los Suenos), several hours to the south. The running was not nearly as nice there. I did manage to do some beach running, and I also made a few trips up, and back down, a huge hill.

I actually found myself missing those howls.

Also check out our travel blog entry. You really should, you know.

Buckeye Woods 50K

2011-11-28T04:25:00.000-08:00

I was the Race Director as well as a runner for the 2nd Annual Buckeye Woods 50K yesterday. What a blast!

There were 27 starters and 13 finishers, and the conditions were every bit as challenging as last year's. Last year it was a snowstorm, and this year it was rain, wind and mud.

I tried to stay in contact with the leaders (Dan DeRosha, Frank Dwyer and Bob Pokorny) during the early laps, but Bob and Frank got ahead after a while. Although I eventually caught up with Frank, Bob increased his lead and cruised to victory.

My main focus was to hold a steady pace. And I did so, at least for the most part. Most of the 5-mile laps were around 45 minutes, along with an additional minute or two at the aid station. My final loop was a bit slower at 48 minutes, but I'm pretty happy that I didn't crash. My finishing time was 4:50, good for second place, and a few minutes slower than last week's time.

As always, it was wonderful to see the even unfold, and to be out there with all my friends. Yeah - what a blast!

The Glass

2011-11-21T01:41:00.000-08:00

Why is it always half-something? Can't we just get that glass all the way full?

Speaking of Half-Somethings, I ran the CWRRC Fall Classic Half-Marathon yesterday. It was a great day for running in a lot of ways (the weather, seeing friends, etc). I ran a steady pace with splits of about 46.5 and 47 minutes to finish in 1:33:43, good for second in the Geezer division.

The glass is half-empty view: this is 5 minutes slower than my best half a year ago (1:28 and change at Stomp the Grapes).

The glass is half-full view: this is 5 minutes faster than the last half I did a couple months ago (1:38 and change at Sam Elpern Memorial).

If one wanted to consider the glass 3/4 full, they could say that I'm on the upswing, and that I'll be a holy terror in 2012. Watch out.

1914

2011-11-16T13:40:00.000-08:00

In 1914, the world had yet to witness:
-two World Wars, and dozens of smaller ones
-the Great flu pandemic of 1918
-the Great Depression
-plastic
-Nuclear power and bombing capability
-the Internet
-Global Climate Change due to Human activity

On this date in 1914, Cecelia Horvath (my Mom) was born. Today we celebrate her 97th Birthday. She has led, and continues to lead a rich and interesting life.

What makes her most special is her optimism and enthusiasm. She is always positive; I simply cannot remember her ever saying anything negative at all, except for some occasional self-deprecating humor.

Cecelia has a bunch of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She enjoys being with her family above all else.

Happy BirthDay, Mom!

Thankfulness

2011-11-07T08:32:00.000-08:00

A friend who is not able to run due to recent surgery let me know that I ought to be thankful that I can run at all, much less manage a 3:22 marathon. This was in a response to a link I posted in FaceBook to my recent Blog entry about the Inland Trail Marathon. My FB message announced the link as, "My sad story." My friend understood that this was intended to be tongue in cheek, but still let me know that I ought to be thankful.

He's right. Anyone and everyone who is able to run at all should be thankful for that capability. All of us have different inherent talents and all of us train at some level. We should all give thanks for these things.

In case you didn't know, I happen to love running. I love virtually all aspects of it, and there certainly are many. And I don't think I take it too very much for granted. This appreciation was enhanced this injury-plagued year of mine. This is not to say that I couldn't be even more thankful - I'm sure I can. I'll keep working on it.

Inland Trail Marathon 2011

2011-11-06T12:01:00.000-08:00

Blame it on Ladd and Bob. They ran with me for the first 7.5 miles or so of the Inland Trail Marathon. And of course I wound up going faster than I had planned. I did inform them that I'd be blaming them for something, no matter how my race turned out.

Expectations were decidedly not high. Although I've been saying that I'm on the upswing, I was still certain that I still lost a bunch of fitness in the past few months. So the plan was to go out at an 8-minute pace, and possibly try to pick it up in the second half. Negative splits always feel good. A sub-3:30 would be fine with me, thank you.

Except Bob, Ladd and I didn't go out at an 8-minute pace. We went out at a 7:40 or so pace. I didn't complain too much. The cool temperatures and slight headwind felt fine, and I wasn't hurting.

When Ladd and Bob turned around to run half-marathoner Marsha in, I maintained the same pace, more or less, for the rest of the first half. It was fun seeing Marsha and the other MCRR half-marathoners go by. I turned around with 1:41:20 on the clock. Near the turnaround I saw Michelle, Dan and Jack. Cool.

Now I began to think I might be able to run 3:20 or even slightly better. All I needed to do was to maintain a 7:30 pace for the entire second half, and I'd have it in the bag. Now the wind was partially to my back, and I did do several consecutive 7:30's. It felt good to run strong and pass people.

Somewhere around mile 20 or 21, the math started to not work out quite so well. I hate when that happens. There I was, running with the same, or slightly more effort, yet those 7:30's were slipping north. With a couple miles left, it began to appear that a sub-3:20 was out of the question, and then my hamstring began to cramp. Not a total knot, but almost. I knew that I had to slow it down some more or risk winding up with a hamstring turned into a pretzel.

The wind was in my face for the tough final 3/4 mile, and I slowed even more, coming in at 3:22 and change. This was good for first in the Geezer Division and 13th overall. The medal says, "First Place Overall", not "First in Age Group".

I do really love this race. It's straight, out and back, usually great weather, straight, flat, fast and straight. Some folks don't care for the straight part, but it don't make no nevermind as far as I'm concerned. I only wish I had been in slightly better shape today.

So what can I blame Bob and Ladd for? If I'd gone out at an 8-minute pace, I'd have done much bigger negative splits (as it was, my second half was faster than my first by about 20 seconds). But I probably would have still been slower overall (but perhaps felt a little better physically). So maybe I should thank them. Nah.

Could it Really be This Simple?

2011-10-31T15:54:00.000-07:00

No, I don't mean as simple as trying to look like Roy Heger. I mean as simple as watching my weight. But since I mentioned (and included a photo looking like Roy, I suppose I ought to say a little more about that.

I stood in for Roy so that he could run his own Run with Scissors race this year. Debbie, with encouragement from Shannon, decided to dress me up like Roy for the occasion. It was quite a hit for the race.

This came a day after Debbie had dressed me up like Lady Godiva for Connie's Halloween party. Yes, that was quite a hit too. And no, I'm not afraid to do anything these days.

Back to weight watching. A few weeks ago Debbie and I got back on the Weight Watchers diet. Now I've lost six or so pounds, and I'm feeling great! The PF still hasn't gone away entirely, but it's much better. And so are all the other little injuries I'd been plagued with lately.

Now I've got to get into shape for this Sunday's Inland Trail Marathon. In fact, I did lose quite a lot of fitness since June. It won't be back by Sunday, but at least (I think) I'm back on the upswing.

My theory is that putting less weight on these old joints for seventy miles per week makes a huge difference in regards to injuries large and small. Could it have been this simple?

A Race to the Death

2011-10-21T12:54:00.000-07:00

Author's note. This went into the latest MCRR Newsletter. I haven't been doing much actual racing lately, but it's good to think of these things now and then.

Have you ever had a Race to the Death? You know, a race where you're near the finish, and A) you are simply *not* going to let this runner coming up from behind pass you, or B) you are going to catch and pass that runner ahead of you before the finish, no matter what. *That's* a Race to the Death; you're going to beat that other runner, even if it kills you.

What's that? You mean you *haven't* had a Race to the Death? Actually, I haven't had all that many myself. I'm so well spent by the end of most races of any length, to care much whether I'm able to pass or hold anyone off. You can just call me, "Kickless Dan".

Having said that, I actually have had a couple (only a couple) memorable moments. Once as part of a relay in Michigan I had a sandy trail leg. I was being stalked by an Ohio guy who was even older than I. I ran faster and faster, trying to hold him off, but he kept pace. Finally the single track opened up to a two-track trail for the final mile and a half. He pulled up even, but I simply was not going to let him pass. We sprinted to the finish in what I'd call a tie. After we both collapsed at the exchange, we talked and over the years have became friends.

Some of you may know Joe Salwan. He's in my age group, and we've had a pretty good rivalry over the years. It all began at the 2000 Buckeye Half Marathon, where I passed him with a mile to go, but then, after some back and forth battling, he passed my in the final tenth of a mile in a final mad sprint to the finish. Yeah, he got me... that time.

Mayor Ladd Clifford usually beats me by exactly one minute. Whether it's 5K or 50K, Ladd gets me by that same amount. At one particular 50K we'd run most of the way together and I thought I could at least tie him when, with a mile to go he learned that he had the opportunity to catch Charles Elkins before the end of his 3rd (of four) loop, so he took off. Ladd not only beat me by a minute (again), but managed to catch Charles before he began his final lap - something we'd both promised not to do. So at that point he had two of us mad at him. I still haven't forgotten.

And then there's Dan vs Connie. To the best of my knowledge, the *only* times I've ever been able to beat Connie is when she is racing a week after a race of 100 or more miles. Competitive as she is, she still doesn't like getting beat, especially by the likes of me. So naturally I had to say some smart remark as I passed her near the end of a 5K after she'd run a 100-miler the previous weekend. The same thing happened on the brick road at the finish of the Twin Sizzler - smart remark from me, and Connie had done Western States just a few days earlier. The best one came at the Akron Marathon, a week after she'd run 141 miles at NC24. I passed her as she stopped at an aid station for some water (at about mile 20). "Don't you know how to run and drink at the same time?" I asked as I went by. We had recently practiced just such a thing. I managed to get a really mean look out of her that time. Never mind that Connie has absolutely killed me on other occasions (when she *hadn't* run 100+ the previous week); I got her those times, and she ain't getting them back.

Are you a runner or a racer? The experiences noted above to the contrary, I'm probably more of a runner myself. But I do love racing, and I love rivalries. I even love my rivals. They are what make it all so much fun, and most are my friends and MCRR members. Without them, what's the point in racing?

Most of all, I love a good Race to the Death.

Okay, I'm Going to Run Inland Trail No Matter What

2011-10-21T12:45:00.000-07:00

There was this story about the great Finnish Runner, Lasse Viren. In the 1972 Olympic 10,000, he and two other top runners got tangled up and fell. They say you could see it in their eyes: two of the guys became dejected because they realized that now they wouldn't be able to win. They thought they might be able to win if everything went right for them, and it hadn't. Viren had a different look: he was thinking about *how* he was going to win now. He'd gone into the race thinking that he was going to win no matter what. Viren won, and set a world record in the process.

So, still fighting these injuries, and still wondering what bad thing could be next, I'm going to run the Inland Trail Marathon November 6.

More on racing in my next post.

The Question I'm Afraid to Ask

2011-10-10T07:33:00.000-07:00

Up and out of bed at 3:45am, I don't actually get out the door until 5:30. That's par these days. It just seems to take that coffee longer and longer to begin to achieve the desired affect.

In order to run fast, you've got to start fast, according to Michigan runner Terry Elsey. Although this concept can be taken too far, and it's always good to finish strong, Terry nevertheless has a point. The days I start really slow, I quite often manage to simply stay slow. Today I start relatively fast. The PF has generally gotten better, although it's still not 100%. As I've tried to pick things back up again, I seem to have acquired some other new aches and pains, including a very tight right hamstring (the PF is in my left foot).

Tired of feeling weak and slow, I've been losing weight (finally working with Debbie following, loosely, the Weight Watchers plan). I've also been minding my strength and other training. Using the new hang bar is a good thing. My mileage is back up to 70 per week, and I've been picking up the pace. Just a bit.

It's been obvious to me that I need to work on this intensity stuff, and so I have. I did one interval session on the mill early last week, and then a long run on Friday. Saturday I tried some gentle speedwork, and that's when I noticed the tight ham for the first time.

Today I fail my attempt at a tempo run (during miles 2-4). My definition of tempo has always been and is still three consecutive miles under seven minutes without a stop. My time for these miles is 22:07, but I'm not too discouraged. I'm still in the midst of my comeback, I tell myself. It will take time to come all the way back.

I forge on, moving slower and slower as I go. Even so, it feels like I'm running fast. I finish the 11-mile route in 1:33. That's also about par these days, but it should've been faster considering the tempo attempt.

As I'm approaching the house, I see Rita coming my way. I decide to turn and run back out with her a while - I wanted to get a couple more miles in anyway. Rita is telling me about her daughter's wedding and her own injury problems. I'm listening intently, when my foot catches something and I yell out, "Yeow!". It's that darn tight hamstring, and now it's suddenly a full-blown pull.

I hobble back home, which luckily isn't too far.

Now I fear that I had better call it quits for the year. I'd been considering three races: Inland Trail Marathon, the Fall Classic Half, and the Buckeye Woods 50K. They're generally all in jeopardy now, especially the first two.

The question I'm afraid to ask? Okay, here goes: "What more can go wrong?"

Turning the Corner

2011-10-06T10:35:00.000-07:00

Have I gotten out of the downward spiral? Is my running finally improving once again? It's hard to say. I am certain that I'm not where I was a year, or even six months ago. But maybe... just maybe, I'm better than I was a month ago. In addition to training a bit harder once again, I've also lost a few pounds. That never hurts.

The PF is still there. I'm trying hard to simply keep it from getting any worse. I believe that I may be succeeding, at least in that effort. I still believe that that's the main culprit in my loss of fitness since Mohican. I'm just getting tired of excuses.

And I'm tired of not racing. All my friends are doing Chicago, Towpath, Columbus, etc., and here I am, marathon-less. Who knows? Maybe I'll still think about Inland Trail in November. Stranger things have happened.

Slow Disease

2011-09-19T11:46:00.001-07:00

NC24 is now history. It was another insane weekend (not to mention week, month, year), and another successful race. The thing took a lot out of me. But that's not what this will be about, and it's not an excuse. This is about a condition that I seem to be having lately: Slow Disease. Having had this plantar fasciitis (PF) injury all year, it shouldn't be a surprise that I lost some fitness. The only questions where, how much, and when would I take notice of it.

In spite of the fact that I acquired the PF in January, the first half of the year was actually pretty good. My speed did suffer, but I made some of that up with mileage. I made good showings at the Mad City 100K, the Cleveland Marathon, Another Dam 50K, and a couple others. And then came Mohican.

Although I was by no means fast before that debacle, I have definitely been a different (read: slower) runner afterwards. I've had a couple not-so-bad moments, like doing okay at the Moebius Green Monster 50K, and winning my age group (with a fairly slow time) at the Perfect Ten-Miler. But I would still say that I'm in a downward spiral. Those times/results would have been better a year, or even six months ago. And then I tried to run the Sam Elpern Memorial Half-Marathon a week ago.

I'd been in Connecticut all week again, and working my butt off again. Last time it was mostly painting; this time it was virtually all painting. I'd never thought that painting was that strenuous. But it wore me out, and my training runs that week sure showed it. On one occasion I hit the track, and the best I could do for mile intervals was the 7:30 range. That's pretty bad for me. So I shouldn't have expected much when I showed up at this Norwalk, CT club half-marathon.

It started and finished at a school. I started well enough, going well under 7 minutes for the first downhill mile. Now, if I could only keep this up, I thought. I couldn't. I couldn't even come close. Almost all my miles were in the 7:30 range again, with a couple slipping almost to 8 minutes. That's pretty ridiculous. The course was hilly, so of course that and the heat slowed me down a bit. But 7:30 miles? I finished in 1:38 for an average pace of... you guessed it: 7:30 per mile. The course was no more hilly than the Stomp the Grapes Half I did last year, ten minutes faster. Ridiculous. Oh. Said that already.

Since then, the downward spiral has continued. I've only run a few miles a day for the last week now. I did get one 15-miler in, and that almost killed me.

I'm not sure I know where the mojo went. I have to say that along with the ability has come the desire. I just don't have the will to train hard any more. For now, anyway. We'll see what tomorrow will bring.

What If the Best Runners Came, and Nobody Cared?

2011-09-10T02:58:00.000-07:00

The title applies to the IAAF World Championships that I wrote about in my last post, I Don't Get It. There, the best track and field runners in the world showed up, and no one seemed to care.

The title also applies to the NorthCoast 24-Hour Endurance Run. This one's my baby, and it's only a week away. And since it's the USATF National Championship, the best ultrarunners in the country show up to compete, and once again, no one seems to care.

Oh, some do. Virtually all of the participants, volunteers, families and organizing committee care very much. But where is the media coverage? Why doesn't the city come out and support the race? A National Championship event coming to Cleveland? Why isn't the Greater Cleveland Sports Commission at the forefront of promoting and garnering support for the run? Why isn't the Plain Dealer covering it?

You got me.

I Don't Get It

2011-08-30T06:42:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: I am a runner. Anti-Disclaimer: I felt this way before I was such an avid runner. Although it's hard to say for sure. That was a long time ago.

The reason for the claimer, disclaimer and dis-disclaimer is that I am about to commence a rant about track and field. What don't I get? Why isn't 'Athletics', as T & F called in other parts of the planet, the most avidly followed and watched sport? How is it that the IAAF T & F World Championships are relegated to a network called Universal Sports that nobody seems to watch, along with a couple brief recap shows on NBC?

The 'Worlds' are surely the most important track meet on the planet next to the Olympics. Like the Olympics, they occur every couple years, but on the odd ones. I often feel that I'm the only person I know who eagerly anticipates and avidly watches them. Most of my friends, even the runners, don't even seem aware that they're going on.

I have a difficult time understanding why this is the case. Surely the drama of a 1500 meter race far surpasses that of an NBA game. The raw power and speed in the 200 meter race is definitely more exciting than that in an NFL game. And a 5000 or 10000 meter race is much more engrossing than any Major League Baseball game.

Nope. I just don't get it.

Green Monster

2011-08-28T02:39:00.000-07:00

I don't know why in the world I thought this would be a good idea. Maybe because my friends were doing it? Because it was an inaugural event? That it would give me a slight amount of redemption, or at least put me back on the right path after Mohican? In any case, there I was at Steve Godale's first annual Moebius Green Monster 50K, trying mightily to not fall completely by the wayside.

It was a pretty good first four 10k loops. It was the fifth one that got me. The first three were in the 55 minute range, and the fourth was right at an hour, so I thought I'd have an easy sub-five hour run. Not bad on a fairly tough course.

"No hill higher than a two story house", they said. Maybe, but there were a *lot* of those house-sized hills. And roots. And rocks. And mud. Although the mud wasn't as bad as it was for last week's training run there, it still slowed me down some.

The PF is still around, but wasn't especially bad this day. I believe that I've lost a lot of fitness because of it however.

Would I even make it through the last loop?

5:01. That was my finish time, after the final, very bad, loop. I think I was in fifth place, but what a struggle. The best part is, it's over!

and the Other Half is Physical

2011-08-11T10:38:00.000-07:00

The title of this post refers to the Yogi Berra saying that baseball is 90% mental... and the other half is physical. That saying naturally applies to running as well, except more so.

This morning I find myself stumbling into the bedroom closet just as the 0400 watch alarm is about to chime. I almost always beat it, no matter how early its set. Trying to keep quiet, I dress into my running clothes and swig down a 5-hour energy. Maybe this will get me out the door faster than the usual coffee.

It’s been tough to get going lately. This is at least partly because we’re in Connecticut, trying to perform major surgery to Veronica and Barry’s house: mostly painting, plumbing and taking stuff to the city dump. So that may be a good portion of the physical part of why I’ve been tired and sore. But even before this week, most of my runs have been slow and tired. It could be my continuing injury saga, or the ongoing oppressive heat and humility. Maybe that is 90% mental part.

But I think the mental part goes further. My heel is, actually, beginning to heal, as is the rest of me. At least it’s better than it was. Even so, I am still burned out. I have a decent run now and then – including a tempo run at North Park last week and another here on the Housatonic trail. Most runs, however, are as tired and slow as ever.

I want to get out by 0500 in order to have enough time to run 20 miles and get back at a decent time. I sit at the computer first to check email and weather. This is always a Big Mistake. It certainly was Saturday, the last time I tried to get out for a long one and wound up starting so late that I settled for 10 instead. Yesterday I couldn’t get out the door at all.

Big Mistake it is again. Besides attending to NC24 matters and other things, I talk with Veronica a bit. I’m out the door at 5:45. This is much later than planned, but I’m determined to do 20 anyway. Debbie will just have to wait for me to begin painting a little later than usual. Since it rained quite a bit yesterday, I decide not to do the trail today. Instead I go down the hill and up the other one on Daniels Farm Road to the track. Those first three miles are slow ones, but with the hills and waking up (still), I’m not concerned.

It’s the fourteen miles at the track that weigh on my mind. The sun is already up as I start my circuits. It gets early early around here. (This is another Yogi saying – “It gets early late around here” or something like that.) That’s not so bad, but now it’s getting warm as well. And humid.

I am dripping with sweat as I complete my first track mile in something like 8:50. The next several are progressively faster – in the 8:40’s, 8:30’s and then some in the 8:20’s. By the time I have 10 in, I’m feeling like I’m doing well and am fairly pleased with the progression of the mile times.

"You're in fantastic shape" says a high-school soccer girl who's nearby when I stop for a sip of my water. She'd been there for almost the same amount of time that I was. "Thanks, I say. And so are you", since all high-school soccer kids are in great shape. At this point, however, the heat is beginning to get to me. The sun is beating down, and I only have a half-bottle of water left. I should have brought more. My mile times begin to slow. I’m putting in more effort than ever, but Miles 12 and 13 are close to nine minutes. I decide to try at least one more, and it comes out closer to ten minutes.

I decide it’s time to head home. I suppose I could slog through it, but that trend is very discouraging. I do slog the final three and barely get back in one piece.

So at least I got 17 in, but it wasn’t the 20 I wanted. Is it physical, or is it mental? The answer is yes.

A Bad Millennium

2011-07-15T12:09:00.000-07:00

Word has it that legendary sea explorer Jacques Cousteau and his ship discovered a sunken boat from ancient Greece. Among the artifacts brought up was a bottle of wine. Cousteau opened the bottle and took a good swig. He immediately spat it out, saying with Gallic aplomb, "That was a bad century!"

One more story: five or ten years ago, some radio announcer said this about the Chicago Cubs: "Any team can have a bad century... but now they're having another one."

I mention these things because I seem to be having a bad millennium. I can actually trace the badness back to the previous millennium, to an injury I incurred in 1997. Something called plantar fasciitis. Until that point, I'd been having some very good years, but after that, they weren't so stellar. Sure, there were some ups and downs, but the ups were never quite as up as 1996 and before. And the trend continues into this millennia that we now find ourselves part of.

It's to be expected that there will be good and bad days, weeks, years, etc. And this year I actually have had some really good running days. I've blogged about those. And I've also blogged about the bad ones.

This week, month, season (being summer) have all been mostly bad however. Last weekend's running was actually better than expected, with 14 on the towpath Saturday followed by two Hinckley loops Sunday. It was Monday through Thursday that weren't too good. They old PF is as bad as ever, and the groin pull has been re-injured.

Maybe I should just give up and wait till the next millennium rolls around.

Yin and Yang

2011-07-05T08:49:00.000-07:00

Patient: "This PF really sucks. My heel is killing me."
Doctor: "Have you ever had this before?"
Patient: "Yes, a couple years ago."
Doctor: "Well, you've got it again."

That's one of my dad's old vaudeville jokes. But it also sums up my experience with PF treatments. I've had this latest round since January, but I've managed to get some half-way decent running in throughout the first half of the year. The PF pain has come and gone, and I've been fortunate that for most of the time it's been gone.

But it has definitely came back with a vengeance during and after Mohican. It's strange how I knew going in that that run would be a watershed for me, but didn't know just how until now.

It's also funny how, even when the pain is there, I can still occasionally run fairly well. And other times, not.

Case in point: I went out for a run Saturday morning from our hotel in Gettysburg. We were there for the Living History with Barry and Veronica. I absolutely love the landscapes there; what a serenely beautiful area to stage a bloody battle. I had this one day to run, and I surely wanted to take advantage of it.

It was still dark when I started, so I did some loops around the roads (mostly Presidential Circle) surrounding the hotel, movie theaters and other hotels and restaurants. The number of loops turned out to be nine. I figured them to be just short of a mile, and I challenged myself to run each one a bit faster. I even did the last four at something like tempo pace.

Even though I was feeling some pain, the run was going quite well. Now I had 5-6 to go to complete what I wanted to do today. So I ran out away from these local roads... and almost immediately into the National Park. This surprised me, since I had believed that we were far away; this must have been a different part than that which I was familiar with. The landscapes were beautiful in this part as well, and there were cannons and historical markers all over the place.

So the run began with a good effort, and ended with a scenic run through history.

Monday was the Fourth of July: time for the Medina Twin Sizzler 5k/10k. I'd taken Sunday off, and although the 'ole PF was hurting, I had hopes of running at least close to last year's times.

It was great to see all my MCRR and other friends. The town square was buzzing and alive with activity. The 5k didn't go according to plan. Just after that downhill start my PF began hurting more and more. And, like Mohican, everything else began to hurt as well. I was even having trouble catching my breath. I came in at 21:30 something; about a minute and a half slower than last year. And this one just about killed me. How in the world would I be able to even get through the 10k?

After 2 uphill miles there, I was having trouble keeping an 8:30 pace going. Then we hit some down-hills, and I managed to take a minute a mile off that time. For this race my time was 49 minutes. I'm almost positive that's a Personal Worst. By a lot.

And now I'm really hurting. (I think I've said that before...)

Aftermath

2011-06-30T07:41:00.000-07:00

Yeeeoww! I stopped and yelled this out during this morning's run on the Lester Rail Trail. The cause of this joyous noise was a sudden excruciating pain in my groin. It must have been what they call a groin pull. The pain went down my entire right leg.

The run - four 6-mile out-and-back loops on the Lester Rail Trail - had been going fairly well up until that point. It's too bad that that point was only about 150 yards into the run. What to do? I nearly walked back to the car in order to drive home and call it a day (at 5am). But no, I decided to try to gut it out, at least for a while. Sure enough, after some slow shuffling, I eventually got to a point where I could run again.

And speaking of pain, most of it went away fairly quickly in the days following Mohican. I say most because the pain in one particular body part (my heel) decided to linger longer. Yes, my PF continues to be as bad as ever. I wish I knew the exact moment in the race when it occurred, but I suppose it really doesn't matter.

Although I knew that Mohican would be a watershed for me, at least for 2011, I had in fact been running better (read: a bit faster) in the weeks leading up to the race. So it's not too surprising that I'm running relatively fast once again. I've got some tempo runs and speedwork sessions under my belt. It's just too bad that these types of runs hurt my PF the most.

Now I'll have to try to make something of the July 4th Twin Sizzler races in Medina. With a groin pull now to go along with the PF, it should be interesting.

I managed to get through today's 24. I even managed to run fairly well - under 8:30 pace, for the middle two laps. The fourth lap proved difficult, however. This may have been a result of all the other follies.

Mohican

2011-06-20T04:25:00.000-07:00

I now believe it was the plantar fasciitis that got me. It didn't necessarily appear that way during the run. Sure, my heel hurt, but everything - every bone, muscle, tendon and brain cell - hurt as well. Every stride, every footfall, was painful. I'd felt this way before, but never with 87 miles yet to run. And that's the part that was hurting those brain cells. I think that by favoring my left heel, combined with the twisting, turning, uneven surface of rocks, mud and roots, I caused additional bio-mechanical problems that brought the house down.

Everything about this run was truly a love-hate thing for me. I loved driving down to Mohican the night before with friends Ladd, Frank and Marsha. We three guys had planned to stay together as much as possible for the first half. I loved seeing old and new friends at the check in, dinner and meeting Friday night. I've said it before and I'll say it again: ultrarunners are some of the best people I know. I hated not being able to sleep more than two hours in our tiny cabin due to the campfire smoke that was like being two feet away from a chain-smoker.

The start was okay. It was not too hot, but extremely humid due to the rains the night before and earlier in the morning. After a half-mile or so, we reached the single-track trail. I'd anticipated that there may be a slow-down as we 300 or so runners (about half were 50-milers; the rest of us were centurions) entered the trail. What occurred, however, was a total traffic jam. Who wants to totally stop running, when there are 99+ miles to go? Eventually, we started walking, single file, up the switchbacks. Since the race had started at 5am, it was still dark, so the line of flashlights traversing the winding trails was surreal.

After about 10 minutes of walking we began shuffling on some of the straightaways. There were some extremely muddy areas, and without trail shoes, I began having some difficulties already. As unique an experience that this single-file trekking in the dark was, I hated it. I had absolutely no control over whether I could run or walk; I absolutely had to do what the group was doing. Worst of all, when I could run, I didn't really want to - it was that tough out there already.

Even several miles into the run, I was still with groups of runners going single file. The larger group had broken into smaller ones, but it was still impossible to get around them. And I was still at their mercy in regards to walking or running. Naturally the steep sections were for the walking, but there seemed to be way too few flatter areas. I even asked Ladd at one point: "Do you think there will be any areas where we can run for more than just a couple minutes?"

Ladd, Frank and I were never far from each other. After a couple hours, we could finally stay together for a while and avoid those groups a bit more. It was probably about 7 or 8am when I started to notice the scenery. The woods were truly beautiful, and, now away from the crowds, I thought about how much I loved this.

But not for long. Things were already starting to hurt. Ladd said we were 13 miles in at about the three hour mark. This was actually a good, smart pace, but it was beginning to get tough for me to keep up. Not to mention painful. How would I be able to do it for 87 more torturous miles?

I forgot about all this for a while as we crossed a stream several times and then climbed up and over a small, muddy cliff. This half-mile or so section may have taken a half-hour or more. It was fun, but also frustrating. The rest of the terrain was also terrible, but that part was the worst. Yes, it's the old love-hate thing on steroids. There was actually a very nice running section between the dam and the covered bridge aid station, but it's too bad that this was only about a half mile long.

After that aid station I found that I couldn't stay with Ladd anymore at all. He wasn't moving that fast, but I just wasn't able to hold even that pace. My overall pain was increasing, and the humidity made it difficult to catch my breath. This was shaping up to be an anaerobic ultra run for me. I made a couple remarks about all this to Frank, but I think he was having at least some difficulty as well.

By the time we got to the final aid station before the completion of the first 27-mile loop (mile 22 or so), I was totally spent. I did get a word in to Ladd and Frank that I didn't know if I'd be able to complete the loop, much less start the next one. I don't think Ladd believed me.

At this point things got worse and worse. I had been thinking that perhaps I'd recover and at least go on to some extent. Before the start, I'd had no contingency plans at all; I was going to finish no matter what. Now that ever step hurt, I was nearly in a panic - wondering whether I could make it back for even that first loop. My movements were slower and slower and more and more runners began passing me. I knew several of them, and they tried to encourage me. It didn't work. There was just too much pain and suffering. I was hating every minute. It didn't help that when I did try to run I tripped and fell. This was on top of a few other minor falls earlier in the run.

Eventually I saw it: a way to get back quicker: a short-cut! This would eliminate the extremely vertical final two-mile section of the course. Since I was going to be dropping, I had no qualms whatsoever about taking this route back in.

The 25 or so miles had taken me six torturous hours. It was such a relief to get off those terrible trails. For all I know, I may have been the first to drop. But I didn't care one bit.

Now I've been in a lot of pain (still) and am unable to run. Regarding trail hundred-mile races, I'd say they're out of my system for good.

Couple additional thoughts:

$200 for this race was way too much. I'd even be saying that if I'd managed to finish. The aid stations and support were okay, but not to the extent that they justified this cost.

And 300 runners (plus marathoners later on) is way too many for these trails. 40 to 50 should be the maximum.

I was amazed at how much my well-meaning friends were disappointed for me (for, not in). They wanted to do anything and everything to help. But nothing would do. I only needed to get off my feet. And to never think about anything like this ever again.

I should also mention that Patrick Fisher was to pace me for the final 23 miles. I'd been thinking that there's be none better. He felt bad for me, but there was nothing he could do at that point, either.

It was great to see Debbie and Kathy there at the start/finish area. I was sorry to disappoint them most of all, but they gave me encouragement anyway. And a nice ride home.

I am amazed that anyone can complete a race like this. It's not just 100 miles. It's 100 miles over the roughest terrain imaginable. Yet, Ladd and several others did make it. I'm in awe.

Out of My System

2011-06-14T06:19:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), that's the way I'm looking at this upcoming Mohican run. Maybe it's good to be apprehensive and anxious. I am, in spades. The thing about getting it out of my system is that the voices had been working on me for some time now. "You MUST do a 100-miler," they tell me. "The sooner the better," they go on. Assuming I can complete Mohican, I'll be able to silence those voices and move back to the normal ones. You know, the ones that tell me to run 3 shorter races over a weekend and such.

And this brings me to my goals:

1) Finish the race
2) Don't drop out
3) Run 100 miles and get to the finish

If I do accomplish all that, it would be nice to finish in a half-way decent amount of time - mostly because I get kind've tired at night.

One other thing: I hate trail shoes and carrying or wearing anything (that I don't have to for modesty). This means that I'm having trouble with water and that I'll probably run the race in road shoes. I'm just not a trail dog. Arf.

... and Run Like a Turtle

2011-06-11T11:05:00.000-07:00

So the whole thing goes,

Eat like a horse,
Drink like a fish... and
Run like a Turtle

This is one of Roy Heger's favorite mantras. One can do far worse than trying to emulate Roy, although I've joked with him that my goal is to be the exact opposite of him in every way possible. Just call me the anti-Roy. This is all the more interesting because many have compared Roy's appearance (beard, long hair, hippie clothes, etc.) to that of Jesus Christ. I suppose this would make me the anti-Christ, although I'm not really all that devilish. Okay, maybe a little.

This year, though, against all my most basic instincts, I've somehow managed to become more like Roy. Not in looks, mind you. But I've been running more and more miles, doing them slower and slower, doing them more and more on trails, and now I'm going to (be trying to) run a 100-miler. It's almost impossible to get more like Roy than that. Unless, of course, I was going to be doing multiple 100-milers. Or running them over impossible terrain. This one (which is tough enough) will most likely be plenty for me, thank you.

Back to turtles. I love running fast. Check that. I love being able to run fast. Of course in order to be able to run fast, one must run fast, at least at times. And this is something that simply hasn't been happening along with all those miles. I did manage 6:50 for two consecutive miles at the MCRR 'Quickie' a couple weeks back. And I also got down to sub-seven pace with the gang on the Lester Rail Trail the other night. I can't even call them tempo runs until I can do three consecutive miles at this pace, but these two efforts almost killed me. Today at the Trumbull HS track, I couldn't even come close. Heaven help me at Twin Sizzler and other upcoming shorter races.

So now I'm scared to death about next week's race, and I'm also afraid that I'll never get my mojo/speed back, afterwards. I supposed I should only worry about one thing at a time. Just call me Touche' Turtle. But ya doesn't have to call me Roy.

I Lied

2011-06-08T08:51:00.000-07:00

In an earlier post I said that I'd decided against Mohican. I'm sorry to say that I lied. I know this hurts my constituents and especially my family, so I'd like to apologize to all of them, and sincerely ask for their forgiveness. I also hope this doesn't spoil my chances for re-election.

After a better-than-expected run at Another Dam 50k, my excuses (not in shape, can't handle trails, heat, etc., etc.) dried up. So rather than continue to be called a chicken by Ladd and Frank, I went ahead and registered for Mohican. Lord help me..

Another Dam 50k (Millenium) Run

2011-06-05T11:03:00.000-07:00

You can just call me Millennium Man. That's because I wound up with number 1000 at this year's Another Dam 50k Run in Englewood, which is near Dayton, Ohio. I suppose calling myself Runner of the Millennium may be taking things a bit too far over the top.

"Just run real fast so that you're done before it gets too hot." This was my advice to anyone concerned about the anticipated heat for the day. We'd been hearing that the high would reach 94F. But they could be wrong, and even if they're right, 94's not really so bad, is it?

"Dan, do you remember the trails being this tough?" asked Ladd between huffs and puffs. My answer was, "Now I do!" It was just beginning to get hot. The first (of four) laps went fine, although the trails were indeed tougher than I remembered. One good thing: they were much less muddy than last year.

Ladd stayed with Jeannine as I ventured on ahead; Janet, Marsha and Charles were out there as well. I saw some of them coming and going from time to time. That's what makes AD50k so much fun. Not to mention the road trip aspect of it.

Yes, the trails were less muddy. Except for the second lap, that is. A brief heavy downpour occurred as I started that second circuit. The cool rain felt wonderful, and I was enjoying every minute of it. Then three things happened in succession: 1) the rain stopped; 2) the trails became muddy - really muddy; 3) the heat returned, this time accompanied by gobs of humidity. The mud was especially thick and heavy. All this made the second loop, which had started out so nice and cool, a tough (and slow) one.

The third loop, on the other hand, went extremely well. The mud had dried up as fast as it had appeared. The heat was still increasing, but for some reason that didn't bother me at this time. Roughly two miles of the 7.9 mile course are exposed to the sun. This includes the dam itself. The rest of the trails are nicely shaded; very nicely shaded. The one turned out to be my fastest, and it's where I felt the best.

So now, 3 hours, 30 minutes into the run, I had another hour and 10 minutes to finish in 4:40. Why is that important, you ask? Because 4:40 is the course record for men's grand masters division. Beating this time would put me in the record book and also net me a $75 gift certificate to a local running store. That's $25 for winning the division and a $50 bonus for breaking the record.

One hour, ten minutes is what I'd been averaging, so it wasn't an unreasonable expectation. Except, that is, for the heat. It was 11:30am, and the temperatures were really getting up there. It was taking it's toll, but I was going for it anyway. Gauging my pace on the times I hit the aid station, I had a chance as of the first stop, but almost not at all for the second. I never gave up the effort, but I just couldn't make it in the time I wanted.

The result was a 4:43. This was still good enough to place me 8th and 1st among the grand masters. It took almost forever to cool down and clean up. I learned later on that Dayton's high for the day was 98F! But running fast did get me out of the heat that much faster! My advice proved correct for a change.

And Now for Something Really Different

2011-06-01T16:54:00.000-07:00

That would be, of course, a hundred-miler. Really different for me, anyway. And I don't take this stuff lightly.

It was ten years ago that I did Mohican. I've told everyone a bazillion times, but I may have never mentioned it here in the 'ole blog: Debbie, who was my support crew, made me promise to never do another one of these things ever again. In a moment of weakness, I agreed. The funny thing was that I wasn't that bad during or after the run; she was just worried about me.

Now, a decade later, Debbie is letting me out of my solemn promise. But I've decided not to do Mohican. It's Burning River or Bust. More on all this later - just wanted to get this out there.

The Fun Run that Wasn't

2011-05-23T06:32:00.000-07:00

In the days leading up to the second annual Emerald Necklace 100k, it became clear that we wouldn't have too many runners actually running 100k. In fact, it was beginning to look like there would be only one or two of us out there. After double checking with all the potential runners, I decided to make it only 50k.

In the mean time, I learned about a Burning River Training Run, which was to cover the first 18.6 miles of the course, and ALSO a 33 to 40 mile run with Lloyd, which would also cover the beginning part of BR100, but then keep going up to Station Road and then some. This latter run was to celebrate Lloyd's birthday, thus "40 on my 40th".

Since I'd only be doing 31 on Sunday, 33 to 40 on Saturday sounded pretty good. In fact, this would give me even more that the planned 62 for the weekend. I'm just so brilliant.

It was already getting warm when a bunch of us met at Station Road and carpooled up to Squire's Castle in North Chagrin Reservation. There we met up with a much bigger bunch (the ones doing 18.6), and headed south. There was such a big group that the start actually looked like the start of Burning River itself. Everything seemed fun and exciting at this point.

The first 10 or so miles of BR100 are on the road, so of course I very unwisely stayed with the lead group of Brad, Steve and Rachel. Along the way we did encounter a few others, including Tim. When we hit the trails after the polo grounds I mentioned that I needed to slow down a bit and I expected the group to just go on. But we all slowed just a bit and stayed together. This (still going at a pretty good clip on the trails) turned out to be mistake number two for me. I should say, however, that at this point I was still very much enjoying myself. The trails were not too rough, but they were more than a little muddy, and we ran through several ankle-deep streams. Our legs were pretty well caked with the mud.

When we reached the 18.6 mile point at Shadow Lake, Tim, Steve and Rachel were done, and Brad and I went on. The problem was that I was done too, and yet I was only about half-way home. I stayed with Brad for a few more miles and then told him to go on; I needed to slow down. Way down.

Now as it became warmer, I entered Bedford Reservation and things became tougher and tougher. I stayed on the trails at times, but opted for the all-purpose trail more and more as I went on. The two main reasons were that I thought it would be fewer miles, and that I wouldn't have to pick up my feet as much. I did take one tumble on the trails along the way. I was suddenly very much not enjoying myself.

After a little bit of confusion, I found my way to Alexander Road, where I got some water and encouragement, knowing that I was almost there. I had thought that this was about mile 30, and therefore must have had only about 3 to get back to the car. The options for 36 and 40 miles were to include extra running in Brecksville Reservation; 33 would be fine for me today, thank you.

It turned out that the Buckeye Trail was early on in the section after Alexander Road - not long after the Bike & Hike Trail started. I didn't see it. I went on, and on and on. And let me tell you, that Bike & Hike Trail should be renamed the Bake & Hike Trail. That's certainly what I did (bake, not hike) for those four or so miles. The worst part about being lost is the thought that you're going all those extra miles for nothing. And suffering mightily for it.

Of course I did eventually get back, covering the last part of the run on route 82. I figure that I probably ran an extra 3 or so miles, so I'm calling it 36. I've had some really bad runs, but this has to rank up near the top (or should I say bottom) of that list. All I could think about is how much I hate this running stuff. This was the first fun run that wasn't for the weekend.

So what was I going to do about Sunday? I was so beat up that I could hardly move, much less run. At the same time, I began hearing from folks saying they also wouldn't make it to the Emerald Necklace. The two people that I thought would show up, John B. and Joe J., showed up. I was there to send them off, but told them that I couldn't run a step if my life depended on it. Joe did manage to finish. For me however, this was fun run that wasn't number two.

I suppose most of the problem is that I hadn't fully recovered from Cleveland. None of my runs in the past week were very good. But this was as bad as it gets. I now need to reconsider which, if any, 100-miler to do. And I need a long rest.

Today's Speed, by Dan Horvath

2011-05-18T07:40:00.000-07:00

Today I felt an almost religious need
For some honest-to-goodness speed
When the body arrived at the track
The brain said 'hey, gimme some slack'
And the legs weren't having any part of this creed

2011 Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon

2011-05-16T12:26:00.000-07:00

Before I get to the race itself, a note about chemicals. Ad for a chemical company: 'without chemicals, life itself would be impossible.' My chemical of choice when it comes to running is called caffeine. It generally takes a cup or two of coffee, sometimes just tea, to get me out the door for a morning run. I'll also ingest something of the sort for races. I believe that aside from the obvious effect of waking me up, it benefits running in other ways as well: enhanced awareness, lower perception of pain, etc. Before a big race such as Cleveland, I'll often go a few days without caffeine so that the effect will be greater on race day.

That said, I'm usually pretty careful about not taking too much. I don't want to be too dependent on this, or any other chemical. But for the 2011 Cleveland Marathon, I think I took more than I ever have in one day:

-two cups of green tea early in the morning before I left (I had to wake up before driving to Connie's.)
-a no-doz type pill (200 mg) a bit before the start since I wouldn't be able to get coffee.
-3/4 of a bottle of 5-Hour Energy that they handed out before the start.
-another bottle of 5-Hour Energy that I had stashed in my shorts pocket after about an hour of running.
-4 energy gels that were laced with caffeine, taken during the race.
-a cup of coffee after the race (in the Key Marriott Fitness Center where we got to change and take showers).

The effect on the race? I'll get to that. But the effect on me? I was shaking like crazy well into the night, and almost didn't sleep at all. This must be what speed is like. (I had previously thought that caffeine's effects last 4-6 hours regardless of how much one ingested. I no longer believe this.)

The day was foggy, misty and cool. In other words, perfect. My plan was to begin with the 3:20 pace group and to try to pick it up in the end. I'd be happy with anything under 3:20 on this day, since I haven't been putting in the speedwork or shorter races like I did last year when I did 3:13. I'm also a few pounds north of last year's weight. I would've liked to run with Ladd and Connie, but I felt they would be just a bit faster, and I wanted to be more conservative.

Naturally all those plans went out the window as soon as the gun went off. After lining up by Browns Stadium with Ladd, Connie and Bob, I saw only Bob after the start, and I stuck with him for the first 5-6 miles. This was not smart on my part. Bob was running conservatively and wisely; I was not. You'd think after 90-some marathons and gobs of ultras and other stuff, that I'd know better.

I ran alone when I finally wised up enough to just let Bob go. After only a couple more miles, who should catch up with me, but Ladd, of all people. I had assumed right along that he was way up there, and that perhaps Bob would catch him. But no, Ladd was running smart. I decided, still fairly unwisely, to now stay with Ladd as the course took us from the very nice west side neighborhoods back into downtown. We said a fond farewell to the half-marathoners, and began heading east, past Playhouse Square, and eventually out towards University Circle.

The Cleveland Marathon course seems to change almost every year, and 2011 was no exception. Whereas we still go west for the first half, and east for the second half, those loops themselves were almost backwards from last year. I don't have a complaint about this, but it would be nice if they could settle on one course or another.

It was at University Circle, mile 17 or 18, where I lost Ladd. I was slowing just a bit, and he was still very steady. I could only hope that he'd be able to maintain his pace for a personal best. My favorite part of the course, MLK Blvd., through Rockefeller Park, came next. I was doing everything I could to try to maintain my pace, but I think I was slowing still a little more. Jim caught me and we chatted a bit before he went on after a personal best. With all these potential personal bests around me, you'd think... Oh never mind.

We hit mile 20 just as we got up to the lake at Gordon Park. I decided, after all that caffeine, that it was now or never. I'd run a pretty decent 20 miles (in 2:29, give or take), and a 45-minute final 10k would bring me in at a time similar to last year's.

I was surprised that we only stayed near the lake for a mile or so before making several turns. Mile 20 wasn't bad, but I slowed some more for the next few. With a mile and a half to go, I pushed as hard as I could to try to stay under 3:17. I don't know why that number is significant, but it seemed like it was at the time. The finish in front of Browns Stadium (the start had been in back) was pretty cool. I was going full tilt, and probably making all kinds of strange faces from the effort.

I made it in 3:16:xx - just barely under my 3:17 goal, and well under the original 3:20 goal. I could finally relax my face!

After I got my medal, I said hello and congrats to Bob, Ladd, Jim, and some other folks. It was a good day for a lot of us. Within a minute or so, we heard the announcer say, "Here comes Connie Gardner from Medina, Ohio. Congratulations, Connie, you are a *Marathoner*!" I don't think he knew who she was, but we sure gave her some $h!t about being a *Marathoner*!

I didn't know how I did in my age group. I was encouraged to not see too many geezers who looked to be my age, anywhere nearby at the finish. I later learned that I was first in that geezer division. That's a first for me at Cleveland (or any other medium/large marathon for that matter).

I suppose I'd have to say that chemicals do mostly work. And I can't wait till my next chance to abuse them.

AOS

2011-05-09T12:45:00.000-07:00

The morning run wasn't going well at all. I was tired and slowing already, and I'd only just made it through the three miles over to the Brunswick track. Perhaps if I'd had a plan that was more clear...

The Hinckley Hills that I ran with the gang on Saturday were challenging as always, but the distance (14 miles) was lower than usual for a variety of reasons. Having just returned from some decent running in Omaha, and with Cleveland looming a week away, I didn't need a ton of miles on Sunday either. But I did want to do something, anything, of substance. I'd read that the Hanson Brothers call some of their workouts SOS, or "Something of Substance" runs. I presume this means that there's some kind of quality speed involved. In my case, needed intervals, hills or a tempo run. This was, then, my own goal for Sunday: Anything of Substance.

Too bad I didn't know what. The excuse here is that I never know if the Brunswick HS Track will be open or not. Many days I run the three miles over there, counting on doing a specific speedwork session, only to find it locked up tighter than a drum. Today was not that day... Many days I have a really bad first couple miles, decide that this wasn't my day, and bag the whole run. Today was not that day, either.

The workout du jour turned out to be 5 x 1200 at about a 4:58 average. Not great, but it *was* substantive. I'll have to take it.

Nowhere to Run

2011-04-27T06:23:00.000-07:00

Almost invariably, wherever I travel, I can find a decent area in which to run. I'll often scout something out on Google Maps ahead of time, then head that direction from the hotel. Other times I just let serendipity lead the way for me. It helps that most of the hotels I stay in are located in decent areas. Not so much for the Courtyard in La Vista, Nebraska.

Same Treadmill, Same Workout, Same Result

I was here in La Vista in January, when the weather was incredibly cold - below zero and lots of snow. I spent the entire week (the running part of it anyway) on the hotel treadmill. One of those runs, a speed workout consisting of 8 x 1-Mile, resulted in my first bout with Plantar Fasciitis in quite a while. Since then, I've had the PF more or less constantly, although it hasn't slowed my running down too much. Actually it has, speed-wise, bit not mileage-wise.

So since there was a cold rain on Tuesday morning, I decided to hit the mill here once again. And since I needed speed, I decided to do 8 x 1-Mile again. And by now you've figured out what I'm going to say next: ouch! Yes, the PF, which never went completely away, is back in full force, or at least as bad as it was in January.

Other La Vista Running, Part 1

I did venture outside later in the week, and I wasn't pleased with the running possibilities; not at all. Every direction I went, there were concrete roads, traffic, and generally poor places to run to.

It almost didn't matter, because
a) my foot was hurting
b) I was tapering for the Cornbelt 24-Hour Run, so I didn't need a lot of miles
c) I was beginning to come down with an awful cold

DNS

I had decided to be as prepared as I could be for the Cornbelt 24. I packed gobs of gu, oodles of other odds and ends, several changes of clothes, etc. I bought a preponderance of Powerbars, a clutch of Cliffbars, and even some bottles of Boost. My work would keep me in Omaha over the weekend, and I'd decided that for something to do, I'd drive five hours east to the Quad Cities area in Eastern Iowa on Friday night, run the race Saturday morning until Sunday morning, and then drive back to Omaha on Sunday in order to be at work on Monday. Yes, I had it all figured out. Hey, maybe I'd even run well. At least I was giving myself the chance.

It was about midweek when my cold hit, and it hit hard. I'm a baby about these things anyway, but it was surely a bad one. How in the world was I going to run all day and all night with this? Would exposure to the elements for that long cause me to develop something worse, like pneumonia?

Of course there was the option of showing up, doing just a few miles, and simply running according to how I was feeling. Even this little bit would have seemed okay - at least I'd have tried. There was only one problem with that: the five-hour drive to get there. As bad as I was feeling, I wasn't sure I could even get through that in one piece. The one-hour drives to Lincoln were bad enough.

So I ditched the whole idea. It's disappointing, since I had begun to think I could possibly have done quite well. And in addition, I also wanted to see another one of these events in action. All in all, I probably made the right decision, however.

So then there was Lincoln.

Lincoln

When I was originally making my travel plans, I thought: "I wonder if there are any nearby marathons during the weekend that I'll be in Omaha." Sure enough, there was one, in Lincoln, Nebraska, on May 1! Alas, several weeks ahead of time, it was SOLD OUT already, at 10,000 runners for the full and the half. I didn't think there were that many people in all of Nebraska! At about the same time, I realized that I was having a difficult time getting hotel rooms for Thursday through Saturday night. Lincoln was an hour from Omaha, could the rooms be sold out because of the marathon?

Ironically I did find a hotel in Lincoln for Thursday and Friday, but not Saturday, when that one was sold out as well. After rearranging my plans anyway, I wound up back in La Vista for Saturday night. I also found out that what was filling up the Omaha hotels was the Berkshire Hathaway annual shareholders meeting.

My run in Lincoln was actually pretty good. I went south on 27th street for 2 1/2 miles and then east on a (concrete) bike trail for another 2 1/2 miles before turning back. There were a few mile markers, so I could gage my speed. And that speed was about 8 1/2 minute pace outbound, and better that on the return; almost tempo pace for me these days. And my cold? I was beginning to feel better, and the running seemed to actually help.

But note that the running was ten miles, not ten times that amount.

On Saturday I visited the marathon expo. It was just a bunch of runners. I then made my final drive from Lincoln to Omaha. About half-way I stopped to visit the Strategic Air Command Air and Space Museum. SAC had been in place during the cold war years to be the nuclear deterrent to the USSR and other threats. Part of the US Air Force, SAC was the outfit that had all the heavy bombers and also the ICBM's. I was pleasantly surprised by the museum; there were plenty of huge planes inside, including a B-29, a B-52 and a B-1. The World War II exhibits included a sample plane and information about Doolittle's bombing raid on Tokyo. It was all quite impressive, to say the least.

Finally

I found it! A place to run from my La Vista hotel. This, after not finding anything the week before, and then spending part of the weekend in Lincoln. I had done some more searching, this time for trails, thinking that I'd probably have to drive to a park somewhere to get to them. Voila! Wehrspann Lake Park (part of the Chaco Hills Recreation Area) is only a short three miles away, and there are six miles of trails there, mostly around the lake.

Like everything else around here, the trails are concrete, but that wouldn't be a problem this time: once I got there, I ran along the grassy trail berms. It was a nice park, and it even had some small hills. I ran around the lake, taking a shorter route that cut part of the trail out by crossing over a bridge over the lake part-way through. I called this a five mile loop. Then I went around again, taking the longer route, which I called six miles. After doing about three more miles in the park, I went back to the hotel, trying to pick the pace up as best I could.

It was enough to call twenty miles, and I'm happy I did it. The cold continues to improve. Later Sunday I drove downtown to take a long walk along the Missouri Riverfront. Turns out there are plenty of nice places to run (and walk) there too. There's also a neat new pedestrian bridge crossing the river to Iowa. I did this walk too, but then just turned right back.

Later in the week I made my way to and around the park three more times - each time for the six-mile loop along with the three miles each way to and from the lake. Each run was a little faster, and my cold continued to improve. It's good to run again!

So it turned out that after finding no places to go at first, and after not being able to make it to my 24-hour run, I did eventually discover places to run.

GCM

2011-04-18T10:50:00.001-07:00

GCM stands for Glass City Marathon. I ran this one in lieu of Boston because it's easier, cheaper, less time consuming, etc., etc. I'm happy I did.

There were a bunch of us Medina County Road Runners who made the two-hour trip to Toledo. Debbie Scheel, Michelle Wolfe and John McCarroll shared the ride with me. John and I also shared a room at the Roof. We went to the not-so-big expo and then to dinner at Bravo. I believe there were on the order of 15 of us at the table.

I'd forgotten how noisy cheap hotels can be on Saturday nights. I guess I'm spoiled. I wish I could blame my slow time on lack of sleep, but that wouldn't be entirely fair. It would be more appropriate to blame my absolutely stupid 20 miles of running (11 on trails at night) on Thursday.

Although I was pretty beat up from Thursday (as well as the previous weekend's 100k run), I felt okay at the start. Connie, Ladd, Debbie and I stayed together in the early miles before I fell behind to try to stay with the 3:20 pace group. This wouldn't be bad, thought I. If I could stay with them and possibly even pick it up a mile or two out, I'd be able to call it a 3 hours, 1x minute marathon, and I'd like that.

But then something funny happened at about mile nine. We passed Debbie, and instead of staying with the group, I ran with her. At that point I was still feeling extremely good, and truly thought I would be able to continue to hang with them. For some reason, however, I made a split-second decision to stay with Debbie. I could see that she was struggling, and I could also see that the pace group almost immediately got way ahead of us. In my mind, now that I'd decided to run with Debbie, I was locked into staying with her for the entire race. In any case, I honestly thought I'd be able to help Debbie recover and begin to get her pace close to what it had been.

She didn't. We slowed quite a bit during those middle miles. The easy pace gave me a chance to admire the scenery. The course had changed entirely since I'd run this race before. The change was definitely for the better: starting at University of Toledo (where I went for my freshman year of undergraduate studies), through neighborhoods and parks, on roads and bike trails. Although the leaves weren't out yet, a few flowers were, and even the bare trees were pretty. The finish was inside the UT Football Stadium.

And speaking of pretty, it was pretty darn windy! I'm not sure of the wind speeds, but they were extremely strong, and seemed to be getting stronger all the time. Luckily those winds were in our face mostly in the first half, and mostly at our backs in the second half. Debbie did manage to pick up her pace a little by about mile 20. Even then, she had some foot cramps that slowed her down. As the finish approached, so did the 3:40 time barrier. Don't ask why this is a barrier, just accept that it is.

I pushed hard to beat that, and I encouraged Debbie to do the same. I finished in 3:38.

So that's another one for the books. At some point I'd like to get back to last year's levels, but that probably won't happen any time soon.

Thanks to Wendy Kouvaras for use of the photo.

Mad City 100k

2011-04-10T16:47:00.000-07:00

The piper would need to be paid. It was just a matter of how much.

I was about to break one of the cardinal rules of running. You know the one: Thou shalt not try for a PR in the 50k en route to a 100k run. Just after one of ten 10k loops of the Mad City 100k, I did some quick math and analysis in my already rattled head. It went something like this.

Let's see, 52 plus minutes for that lap. If I can just do four more 53 minute laps, I'll beat my 50k PR of 4:25. But how much would the piper charge for something like this? Hey, maybe little or nothing! Maybe I do 4:25 or so for both the first half and the second half!! Or even if not, maybe I can just go back to the original plan and still wind up with a fast time.

That original plan had, I thought, been a good one. Since my previous three 100k's were all in the range of 10 to 11 hours, I felt that anything under 10 hours on this day would be a great and wonderful thing. Since the Mad City 100k consisted of 10 10k's, something I can actually get my head around, the math is easy: just do each one under an hour. Note the overuse of the word "just" here and in the previous paragraph. There were other sensible parts of the plan as well: E-caps, gel and Perpetuem every lap; stuff like that.

Mad City, so named because it's in Madison, Wisconsin, serves as the USATF 100k National Championship. Therefore, the best ultrarunners in the country were present. The weather at the start was cloudy with temps in the upper 40s; they would rise through the 50s during the day. In other words, absolutely perfect. RD Tim Yanacheck started us off and almost immediately the 30 runners separated themselves into three groups: the fast folks - about 20 of them - ran up ahead. The slower folks - 10 or so - fell back. The third group consisted of me, all by my lonesome, in the middle.

We left Vilas Park, ran on bike trails and roads, went through some neighborhoods, past playgrounds, through an Arboretum and other small parks including wetlands and woods, all the while keeping Lake Wingra on our left. There were a few rolling hills. The toughest was through a neighborhood around mile 2.5. Those hills were enough to slow me down some, but they really weren't bad. In fact, they helped break up the monotony. Each of the six miles were marked by a pillar. All in all, it was a very nice course to be traversing ten times. I do need to mention, however, that the hills did increase in size every time through.

After that first time around, I thought, "this is easy". Sure enough, I was able to run the next three laps in right around 53 minutes and I was on my way. Lap five proved more difficult. I was still maintaining that same pace, but it was tougher and tougher. That's when I really started to wonder some more about paying that piper.

I got my 50k PR: 4:24:17. And then almost collapsed. Well, it wasn't quite that bad, but as I started the sixth one, I knew I was in trouble. Everything started to hurt. Nothing specific, just general pain, and a lot of it. The piper had begun taking his payment already. This lap took me on the order of 59 minutes (and my pace slipped from 8:30ish to 9:30ish); just right according to the original plan. But would I be able to do four more?

Yes and no. Yes I was able to do four more. No, I couldn't keep them under an hour. In fact, they were all just over an hour. Not by much, mind you, just a minute or so off each time. I had taken an ibuprofen tablet for the pain - something ultrarunners are never supposed to do - and that seemed to take some of the edge off. Maybe it's just the placebo effect.

Throughout the race I'd seen fairly few other competitors. There were 50k runners and relay runners. There were 100k runners that I lapped and some that lapped me. But I was still surprised at how few I saw in general. Near the end of lap 10 I did see two others however. One came from behind, and although I tried to hold him off, he passed me with about a quarter mile to go. The other was ahead, and I recognized his shirt and running style. It was Bob Pokorny, whom I'd driven up with. I hadn't seen Bob for the entire time. After the other guy passed Bob, I pulled even with him. Hey, I was finally running with someone! We only had about 100 yards to go, and I suggested we tie. Bob had crashed much harder than I had, and he agreed. We finished 15th and 16th, with a time of 9:31.

Note to self. Next time, stick with the plan! It may not get me there that much faster, but it would definitely get me there with less pain.

RD Tim and his volunteers did a great job. Except for the pain, it was a pleasure!

Then came the (even more painful) ride home, but that's a different story.

Slick Speedwork

2011-04-02T05:42:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, this title is intended to be in the literal and not the figurative sense of the word.

Debbie and I drove through constant rain and snow during our trip to Connecticut yesterday. This made for a somewhat stressful drive. Veronica's part of CT experienced mostly rain. As expected, we're having a great visit and are especially enjoying Grandson Malcolm.

It was clear and in the mid-thirties (I thought) when I started running Saturday morning. Things were still damp from all the rain, but this didn't appear to be a problem as I ran downhill from Veronica and Barry's place, and then up (way up) Daniels Farm Road, past Daniels Farm and Daniels Farm School, to the track. With all the miles I've been doing, more than ever I had a need for speed.

After 36 (24 out and 12 in) on Thursday, along with other long stuff during the week, I haven't been very speedy at all lately. My (current) theory is that running slow doesn't make you slow; not running fast makes you slow. And if you're doing gobs of your miles slowly, that puts you (read: me) squarely in the latter category.

For this attempt at a Something of Substance run, I figured I'd do some mile intervals at the track for the quality part, and then enough other jogging around to call it 14 for the day and 100 for the week. As I hit the track and tried mightily to pick up my speed, I immediately realized that (whoa!) the track was covered with a thin layer of ice. That put a quick damper on thoughts of any real speed.

I tried to go fast anyway, but when the first mile went by at about 7:37 - about a minute slower than I'd have liked - I began to think it would be a Nothing of Substance run. I did three more icy mile repeats anyway, each one faster than the last, but still pretty pathetically pokey. At least I somehow managed to not slip enough to fall completely.

So I ran back down Daniels Farm Road, back up to Veronica and Barry's place, did some half-mile loops around the block, and stopped when I thought I had 14.

Nothing of Substance, but more miles for the week.

going long

2011-03-26T13:46:00.000-07:00

Again and again I pound out the miles at the expense of quality. But now I have a reason: I signed up for the Mad City 100K. Plans are to travel to Wisconsin and run this April 9 race with Connie and Bob. But holy cow. I'd better train. And that means even *more* miles.

So last Sunday, after getting home from California the morning before, I ran on the order of 33 miles at Hinckley. It wasn't all 9-mile loops, although there were a couple. There was some back and forth, and also 8+ miles of trails as the first loop of the first annual Buzzard Run 50K put on by Roy and Shannon. That, incidentally, was a blast - it was near the end of my odyssey, so it was rather slow, but still fun. Part of the run was with Dan and Becky.

That wasn't enough. I wanted to do a *longer* one, and I wanted it to come in 6-miles increments because Mad City consists of 10 10K loops at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. So Wednesday I ran my own 6-mile loop 3 times, did some additional stuff around the school, and came back with 24 miles. Then I hopped on the mill for 9 more. Unfortunately I ran out of time and had to quit at 33 for this day as well. Not quite as far as I wanted, but it would have to do.

Today I did 21 at Dave's. We did his favorite loop into the valley and back out to his place. It was cold, but the run went fairly well.

Now, about running long, here is my weekly mileage:
Sunday: 33
Monday: off
Tuesday: 10
Wednesday: 33
Thursday: off
Friday: 4
Saturday: 21

I'll leave the math as an exercise for the reader.

Will the madness ever stop?

Bubka-esque

2011-03-15T07:35:00.000-07:00

In my post about the Green Jewel 50K, I mentioned the concept of setting a PR so far ahead of one's previous best, that it could be called "Beamonesque". Of course I was recalling the Bob Beamon long jump in the 1968

I now find myself in Lake Forest, CA once again, and I'm once again running the 10-mile Portola Hills route that I described in my Running in La-La Land post. Note that there is neither a lake nor a forest here. But it's really nice, nonetheless.

Ukrainian Athlete Sergei Bubka, made his living as a pole-vaulter. But he wasn’t just any track and field athlete; he was a world record holder. He would famously predict another world height record to the promoters of any and all events where he was invited. The promoters would happily pay a bonus for such record performances, and Bubka would come through for them.

The thing was that he would only break his previous record by a small amount each time. He wanted to continue making such a good living with the bonus payments he constantly earned. Had he ever broken the record by a large amount like Bob Beamon did, he would’ve had a much tougher time breaking it again the next time.

Last time I ran the route 3 times, and I got a bit faster each time. Those times were pretty darn slow however. I’d like to point out, however, that the elevation gain during this 10-mile run is pretty darn significant. It appears that I run from an elevation of 300 to 400 feet, all the way up to 1600 feet at about the 4-mile mark. From there it’s down to mile five before turning around, climbing the mountain, and heading back down the other side.

After an improvement of something like four minutes for those three runs, I was wondering whether I could continue that trend this week. I’d be doing the run as many as four times; that’s a lot of improvement. One thing in my favor was that I knew the course well by now. Another was that the weather, which was excellent last time, would be even better this week – the morning lows would be in the low 50s.

So for my first trick, I wanted to at least break 90 minutes; something I couldn’t accomplish at all last time. The problem is that the elevation gain in the first half is so darn high, that it’s tough to even make 10 minutes per mile for that portion. But Monday morning I did succeed: I went out in 48 minutes and got back in 41 for an 89 minute run. Would I be able to beat this?

Tuesday’s splits were 47 and 40 minutes for an overall time of 87. That’s real improvement. But was I holding enough back to break this course PR the next time.

That answer would be yes: Wednesday’s splits were 45.5 and 39.5 for a time of 85 minutes. Surely I’d now hit my lower limit on speedy times. But I only had one day left. I’d run on Friday, but I’d probably do a shorter route. I had this one major run left. There would be no tomorrow.

Instead of my usual 2+ cups of coffee I use to get myself out the door, on Thursday I did something I hadn’t done in a while: I took a caffeine pill. And I washed that down with a little coffee. Hey, I just *had* to get myself going. And get going I did. I went out in 44 minutes and came back in 39. That adds up to 83 minutes for this, my course PR.

Sergei would be so proud of me.

2011 Green Jewel

2011-03-05T12:40:00.000-08:00

I've been putting in the miles, and my 50K PR, at 4:46, is mighty soft, so I went into this one *expecting* a PR. And not just an incremental one; I wanted to be Beamonesque, and really put one out there. But before I get to a description of the run, I just have to list the excuses:

1) I flew in from Boston last night, arriving at 8:30, which is pretty nearly my bedtime. I don't often run well the morning after a late (for me) flight.
2) With all the traveling, I've naturally put on a few pounds. This is never helpful.
3) The weather was fairly awful. The constant rain was bad enough, but the cold wind never let up, and seemed to be constantly in our faces.
4) Said rain caused flooding at many points along the way. The water (more like rivers) running across the all-purpose trail at many points was bad enough, but in some places there was thick mud on the asphalt, with water on top of that. It turned out just like ice.

Okay. Even with those caveats, I was still going for it. And that means, of course, that I went out too fast. I ran alone most of the way, but that was fine. I probably averaged 8 minutes per mile for the first half, hitting the mid-point (maybe 14.5 to 15 mile) aid station in Berea at 1:58.

Things went downhill from there. Actually uphill, but my pace slowed considerably. I hit mile 24.5 - the final aid station at about 3:25. Would I be able to do those final 7+ hilly miles in a bit over an hour to break 4:30?

It was tough. I was doing only marginally better than 9-minute pace on those parkway hills through N. Royalton and Broadview Heights. I hit Brecksville Road at about 4:17. Now I had a (steeply) downhill mile and a half to do in 13 minutes. Would I be able to?

Yes. I finished in 4:28 - a PR by 18 minutes. Almost, but not quite Beamonesque. (By the way, google Bob Beamon - and the 1968 Olympics - if you want to know what I mean by that.) Patrick told me that I'm not allowed to complain about any run that results in a PR, so I won't.

It was wonderful, once again, to run with all my MCRR buddies. Everyone did well!

(photo courtesy of Dan DeRosha)

Running in La La Land

2011-02-25T20:11:00.000-08:00

Trails Galore

Yes, trails galorious, trails. And right across the road from my hotel. I’m in Lake Forest, California, which is in Orange County and not too far from Irvine. It seems strange to have these hills and canyons so close to suburbia, but that’s California for you.

Since I did the Hinckley Triple yesterday, and also had to fly here last night, I’m a little tired today. My goal of running 50 additional miles this week means that I’ve got to jog around for an hour and a half or so today in spite of the weariness.

As I cross the road I pick up some trails right away. They’re sandy and a little muddy. Jogging around a bit, I discover that some trails even lead underneath the road and eventually to a couple corners of my hotel’s strip-mall parking lot. I note that the one corner contains a plastic surgery center. This is California, after all. I didn’t even need to cross, or encounter the road at all. I’d come back this way to avoid it for sure.

Heading back under the road and further into the park, I arrive at a closed gate. The park is called Whiting Ranch, and I believe it’s a county park. The sign on the gate indicates that the park is closed for 48 hours for each day of rain. California had had quite a bit of rain for the previous couple days, so I’m not sure how many hours that works out to. The weather is fine right now, but I am already encountering mud and can understand the need to preserve the trails from erosion. I could go around the gate and fence to get into the park, but decide to head back out instead.

Back on the sidewalk, I head north on Glenn Ranch Road, which is adjacent to a mile or so of the park. I encounter a couple other park entrances that are also closed. Eventually I come to a trail that has no gate. I suppose that I shouldn’t enter due to the information about it being closed on the other sign, but I can’t help myself. I start on this trail anyway.

I’m treated to great views of canyons and hills. It occurs to me that I’m having an experience not unlike those of the out-west ultra trail running video I love so much. Only one problem: the mud. It’s getting caked on my shoes so much that they get to the point where they feel like they weigh five pounds. I hate when this happens. I try to kick it off, but eventually it’s time to turn back anyway.

I’m treated to a beautiful sunrise as I’m heading back to the hotel. What a great run!

Verticality
The California weather is to be clear and 40 at night and 60 during the day. It’s the same for each day of the entire week. I don’t know if that’s normal for late February here, but it’s absolutely perfect running weather.

I start out at about 5am, which is a wee bit earlier than yesterday. For Tuesday’s adventure, I decide to stay on the roads but head further (way further) up into the Portola Hills and then into Modjeska Canyon. The park and its trails are still closed anyway.

The route brings me north up (and I do mean up) Glenn Ranch Road, left (north) up Saddleback Ranch Road, left (north) DOWN Ridgeline Road (this is a steep downhill section, but it’s short – probably less than ½ mile), left (north) up Santiago Canyon Road, and finally right (north) up, up, up Modjeska Grade Road. That final one is the real doozie.

Parts of the route are near Whiting Ranch, but other parts are past entrances to subdivisions built into the hills. At about half-way (2.5 miles, give or take), the sidewalks end and I’ve got to run off to the side of the roads. There is plenty of room, but the cars are traveling mighty darn fast. Modjeska Grade Road, my last, is partially blocked to traffic (and therefore NOT busy), although you could drive around the barrier. This is also by far the steepest part.

I reach the summit at a little before mile four. After a mile or so of no habitation whatsoever, there’s a major mansion here at the top with a commanding view. The views, in fact, have been wonderful the entire way. It helps that it’s beginning to get more light. I go down the other side of that hill and see more mansions perched on cliff sides. It occurs to me that California is so beautiful that I’d recommend that anyone and everyone visit here. It’s just that no one should live here. It just doesn’t seem like there ought to be mansions on cliff sides where there should only be trees, scrub and roadrunners.

My pace has been pretty slow. I reach my 5-mile turnaround point at about 52 minutes. I hope I can get back down faster. I do. But not that much. I return to the hotel at a time of 95 minutes. Not one of my faster 10-milers.

One more thing about the route: if you click the link for it, you can see the interactive gmap-pedometer map. From there you can also look at the elevation. That indicates that I made it up to 1600+ feet, but my starting elevation is shown as 800 something. I think Lake Forest is actually at 300 something. So my total elevation gain is between 800 and 1300 feet.

More Verticality, More Trails Galore
For my Wednesday trick I decide to do that whole hilly run a second time. Everything goes pretty much the same, except that I’m able to run a couple minutes faster for both the outbound and the return. It’s funny how just knowing the course seems to enable me to run it faster.

Since I still have a bit of time before I have to get to the office, I jog around on the trails for a bit. This time I run further into town instead of running into the park. It’s great how they have these dirt running trails amidst all the freeways and strip malls.

It’s now Thursday, and it would be nice to get in something that I can call 18 miles to make 80 for the week. I won’t be able to run Saturday because with the red-eye, I won’t be home in any kind of time or disposition to run. And it would be nice to take Friday off from running as well.

I am able to get out the door by 4:30, so I’ll have enough time. I begin by doing the Portola Hills 10 for the third day in a row. Will I be able to do it faster still? The answer is yes! I get back down to the hotel a half minute faster than yesterday.

Now I still have 8 more to do. I run past the plastic surgery place and enter the world of trails once more. I go directly into the park and the gate is open this time. I go on in and immerse myself in the wonders of California wilderness. Those trails sure are nice. I think that I ought to be able to link up with the same trails I ran on Monday, but I get lost trying. That’s okay though. I run on relatively flat terrain until I hit a hill. This one is steeper than any I’ve encountered on the roads – I end up only getting half-way up before turning back. I also take some side trails off into wilder areas.

So I got my miles in for the day and for the week. It’s bee a good one.

Quantity vs Quality

2011-02-11T15:51:00.000-08:00

Before the Plantar Fasciitis injury I was struggling to get up to 70 miles per week. At some point in there I made up a half-baked goal to do 3,650 miles this year. But back to before that injury: at least some of those miles were at some kind of speed. I wasn't setting the world on fire, but at least I'd do some kind of quality run once or twice per week. Some of it was on the mill.

And, who knows, those mill miles may have been part of the cause of my injury. But the result of the PF has been reduced quality. This is mostly out of fear of making the injury worse.

The quantity, however, has not been reduced. In fact it's the opposite. I've increased both my weekly mileage and the distance and quantity of my long runs. The weekly mileage for the last two weeks, and probably this week as well, is now well up into the eighties.

Regarding long runs, in a previous post I described the trials and tribulations of running three iterations of the Hinckley loop. Since that time I've done some long treadmill runs (24 along with 6 outside in the snow, and 30), and a second incidence of running three Hinckley loops last Sunday. Moreover, I'll often do 20ish and 30ish mile long runs in the same week. This weekend I'm going to try to do them back to back.

The PF is on the run now, although it's always still there. And the mileage is still up, whilst the quality is still down. I'll need to work on that.

Recertification

2011-02-11T15:40:00.000-08:00

I'm taking an online class to complete what's needed for me to renew my Project Management Professional Certification. I do this every few years, but this may be my last, since it'll take me until I'm 60.

The thing is, it's 5 required practice exams with 200 questions each, and then a final exam with 50 questions. If I'm doing the math correctly, that's 1,050 questions. And each one takes time because I have to look almost all of them up.

So, besides running gobs of miles and work, and work, that's what's been keeping me busy.

Hinckley X 3

2011-01-25T16:36:00.000-08:00

After a couple good night's sleeps in a row, I find myself awake at 2am. The night splint/boot that I wear at night for my Plantar Fasciitis is bugging me as usual. But even after I tear it off, I still can't get back to sleep. The PF seems a bit better these days, but this little bout of insomnia is no fun either.

At 3am I get up and realize that by default, I've made a decision. I will get to Hinckley at 4am. We're there every Sunday, and I'm one of the organizers / regulars. The runs traditionally begin at 7am and include a big loop around Hinckley Metropark. This means starting at the Spillway parking lot, going east on Bellus, turning onto Parker which becomes Harter, then turning onto Medina Line, Ledge, Kellogg and Hinckley Hills before the return onto Bellus and back into the parking lot. It's a beautiful 9.2 mile route that circumnavigates the park, getting away from it in a couple places. And, oh yes, it's quite hilly. The entire course is rolling, but there are two really notable hills: the one starting out onto Bellus Road, and the one about half-way through on Ledge that we affectionately refer to as "Effie". (When we were discussing possible names for her, Angie Kovaks said, "I just call it, 'F' This Hill.")

I arrive just a bit after 4am. It's cold and there's snow about. Yesterday's cold was really down there - -4F when we (Debbie, Michelle, Brad and I) began our run on the parkway - but today's +10 to 12F actually feels colder. The difference is the wind and the snow; they make it feel colder. The snow on the roads makes footing bad, and this also contributes to the overall difficulty.

Since a loop takes anywhere from 75 to 85 or more minutes, I must hurry. It's difficult, but I manage to arrive back within a minute or two of 5:30am. That's just in time to talk to Jack before he takes off on his 5:30 loop. There are often other 5:30 runners as well, but today there is only Jack. And me. I tell Jack that he can begin without me as I need to go to the car for refreshments.

It turns out that I never catch him until the very end of the loop; we each wind up running alone. There is even more snow on the road this second time around, and I run the loop about two minutes slower.

As Jack and I return to the Spillway lot, a small throng of runners has gathered for the 7am loop. This is usually when we have the most folks, and today is no different. I am surprised to be able to keep up with Connie, Bob and Dave during that initial climb on Bellus. It's after the hill when I find I can no longer hang with them.

I run the next mile or two with Michelle, but eventually find that I can't keep up with her either. I'm getting slower and slower as I arrive at the base of Effie to have some refreshments out of Jack's stash. I'm beginning to seriously doubt whether I'll be able to finish this loop at all. Jack arrives at our aid station just after I do, and after some gel and sports drink, we tackle Effie together.

The weather has actually gotten worse; the snow is still slippery, and the wind is at least as cold now as when I began.

Somehow, I manage to stay with Jack for the remainder of the loop. It isn't easy, and I suspect that he slowed down just to help me out. The gel probably helped as well. I shuffle back to the Spillway lot for the last time, say goodbye to Jack and the rest, get into my car and drive home.

Debbie is waiting; she had come home yesterday to visit for the week. We will spend the day visiting Mom and then going to a concert at BW put on by Bob Mayerovitch. We have dinner with Bob and Laura, and also Mike and Judy George.

Whew. What a day.

TM=PF

2011-01-20T14:02:00.000-08:00

Got an email from Dave whilst I was in Omaha! (Note that Omaha is always followed by an '!'. There are no exceptions.) He had run long and hard on his treadmill and wound up with plantar fasciitis, or something just like it. The funny thing is that I was beginning to suffer from PF myself at that moment, and I'd also been doing too much treadmill running due to the bad weather in Omaha! I'd never before considered that the mill itself could be the cause of my own occasional bouts with the PF, but who knows?

Speaking of the mill, four days in a row was tough, but what made it tougher was my limited choice of tv stations. What I wound up with was the Patty Duke show as well as Mr. Ed. Not that I ever forgot them, but I'm now really, really good at knowing the lyrics to their respective theme songs.

I missed the usual Saturday run because of a missed air connection and becoming stranded in Detroit. Sunday I did two big loops as I'd done the previous week, but I even added a lap around the lake this time.

Back to the pain. I'm fighting this PF thing tooth and nail. I'm using the boot, stretching, strengthening, walking around the house in my Keens, etc., etc. My other pain is coming from my wrist, and this one is even more puzzling. It's most likely a sprain cause by lifting weights, but I really don't know for sure; it just started to hurt.

Reminds me about the time Spock did the mind meld with the Horta:

[opening his mind-meld with the Horta]
Mr. Spock: [crying] PAIN! PAIN!

And so on.

Weight Weight, Don't Tell Me

2011-01-06T16:55:00.000-08:00

165. But don't tell anyone.

That's ten (10) pounds over my fighting weight.

This happens every year about this time. A couple at Thanksgiving, a couple at Christmas, a couple during the vacation (this year only), one or two more at New Years'. Pretty soon it starts adding up to some real fat.

I don't know why I thought this year might be different. I suppose one reason is that I have indeed been keeping my mileage up. The other reason is that it happened so gradually, and seems to continue getting worse, even now that the holidaze are over.

No wonder that 3:36 marathon was so tough. I was carrying a piano the whole way!

Epiphany

2011-01-06T16:33:00.000-08:00

Not in the religious sense. It was a "sudden intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience."

I'd been running on the towpath with Dave. At 19F it felt pretty cold, and the snow - enough to cover the ground - was falling at a steady rate. Although the towpath surface was uneven frozen mud in places, I had thoroughly enjoyed our 11-mile run together. Dave had to take off, and I decided to run a few more miles.

I went south from Red Lock this time; the opposite direction I'd run with Dave. Now it was a little after 7am, and the darkness was just beginning to give way to early morning daylight. The snow was still falling. The two nearby ski resorts were brightly lit up in the distance. There wasn't another soul on the towpath, or anywhere else nearby. All this taken together made the experience seem almost unreal. Surreal, and beautiful beyond description.

That's when it hit me - the epiphany: This is why I run.

Landis Loonies Marathon

2011-01-02T03:01:00.000-08:00

"Now I *know* I've seen you at races before. I recognize that straining grimace on your face." Randy Crowder, whom I had met for the first time that morning, and I had been running together for almost the entire way. Near the end of the third of four 6.55 mile Landis Loonies Marathon loops, he made this statement. We had each previously mentioned that we'd *thought* we'd seen each other at other races - probably Columbus or Akron. The grimace made him sure of it.

I replied that if I'm grimacing with 7 or 8 miles to go, this was not a good sign.

What better way to start off the new year but with a marathon? Don't say a 24-hour run. That gem was last year's folly. This year it would be more mainstream stuff: a little small-town marathon. The Landis boys, Kevin and Keith, set this one up. All along I thought they were brothers, but it turns out that Kevin is Keith's uncle. They are nevertheless fairly close in age, and both good runners. And they did a good job of setting this little run up for us. I say little because there were only about seven starters and five finishers. A couple other runners joined in at times.

Did I mention the wind and rain? The temperatures fluctuated between the upper 40s and the lower 50s; pretty good for New Year's Day morning. But the rain and wind never quit. The rain was in the form of a downpour at times, but was mostly fairly light. The wind made the whole thing challenging however.

The whole bunch: Ladd Clifford, whom I drove to New London with, Joey Curtis, a high school runner doing his first marathon, Randy, Keith and Kevin, mostly stayed together for the first two loops. The second had been faster than the first. I didn't linger very long at the start/finish aid station, and only Randy ran the third loop with me. That's when we had the above-mentioned conversation.

Sure enough, I was straining a bit on the fourth loop. It was quite an effort to keep the pace up, and I did, in fact, slow a little. Randy had been slowing down in order to stay with me, but decided to pick it up for the final mile and finished a minute and a half ahead of me. Too bad I couldn't hang with him - tying for a marathon victory would've been nice.

Not that anyone would, or should have called this little event a race. It was really just a fun run. And it really was.

The only concern: my time, 3:36 was something like my fifth slowest marathon. I'm fine with that since it was such a low-key event and the wind/rain was tough. But it was a *tough* 3:36. It should've been easy; it wasn't.

Cool(er) Runnings

2010-12-29T06:56:00.000-08:00

A Chronicle of Dan's Running and Other Stories Since Returning Home from Jamaica

Really Cool Runnings

Debbie and I got into the house at 1am Sunday, and darned if I was going to miss another Sunday morning run at Hinckley. Now I wasn't quite so silly as to try to make the 5:30 loop, but 7am seemed doable.

So a few hours and 75 degrees later, I was there at the Spillway looking for all my running companions. Nary a one showed up. What, was 9 degrees too cold for them? Hey, if I can go from Jamaica in the mid-eighties to Cleveland in the upper single digits in a couple hours, they should've been able to make it too.

But they didn't. So I did the big loop (only one of them, thank you) alone. It was actually a pretty peaceful, nice run. The cold didn't bother me at all.

Later That Week

It got a wee bit warmer. I ran at Hinckley a couple more times. Once I did two of the big loops including the first one with Mandy (whew, that was tough). The other was my Boxing Day Run. More on that one later.

In the mean time, I did a few other runs, including a 15-miler from home and ten with Dave on the parkway on Christmas Eve day.

Family and Friends

There is Life Outside of Running, and sometimes *I* even have some. Veronica, Barry and Malcolm came for almost a week, and Valerie made it for a day. At my suggestion, we had an open house on the 23rd in order to show Malcolm off to family and friends. Besides everyone else, Dave and Carol brought Mom so that she could see the Baby as well.

Sandy and Nancy's Christmas Eve Party was fun as usual. Christmas Day itself was rather quiet. We visited Mom and prepared for our trip to Connecticut, which included taking down the tree and decorations.

The Great Snowstorm of 2010

We knew it was coming, and we knew that our plans had us driving into the thick of it. Should we leave a half-day early on Christmas night in order to beat the storm? We decided against driving all night. Should we simply leave extremely early on Boxing Day? Yes, but in retrospect, it should've been earlier.

I did manage to get in one Hinckley loop with the gang. I really wanted to do the second 7am loop as well since I had set the thing up and there were more folks ready to go at that time. But I didn't want to be the one holding everyone up with us driving into the storm.

And wouldn't you know it? We drove into the storm just when it was at it's worst. It got so bad that we had to stop and get into a hotel in Middletown, NY. Luckily it was a fast moving one, and Monday was cold and extremely windy, but, by mid-day, generally drivable. That is, assuming one has four good tires. Somehow Barry's Ford Edge had gotten a flat, and the tire needed to be replaced.

So it was an eventful trip, but it wasn't quite over yet. We had to dig our way into the driveway. And with drifts several feet high, this wasn't easy at all.

I should say that out of the five human beings in the car, the one least troubled by all these events was the smallest one. Malcolm just seemed to take it all in stride.

Running in CT

I tried to take running in Connecticut in stride as well.

Who was Daniel, and why did he put his farm at the top of such a long, arduous hill? That is, of course, what I was asking myself as I was running up Daniels Farm Road. It's quite a hill, but the worst of it was that the footing was so bad. With all the traffic I was relegated to the sidewalks, which had been plowed, but were nonetheless still snowy and very icy. It was even tougher coming down than going up.

Hearing from new Ohio resident Dave James that he was in Connecticut caused me to send him a message wondering if he was close by and if so, whether he would like to go for a run. He responded that he was and he would. In fact, we'd be meeting a group of runners at the Housitonic (or whatever you call that durn thing) trail head - the place I run all the time.

Well it didn't work out. Dave got sick - just like everyone else around here - and I decided to just run around and get back a bit earlier than planned.

Speaking of sickness: Veronica, Barry and Malcolm all had colds, and Debbie got some kind of stomach illness. They're all recovering while I'm knocking on wood.

2010

This morning's run here in Connecticut is my last for 2010. The grand totals:

3,465 miles, the most ever in a year for me. don't know why..
8:31 per mile average. not nearly as slow as last year, but my second slowest ever. don't know why.
gobs of races, including 4 or so marathons and 5 or so ultras.

Hey I've got an idea! Start 2011 off with a marathon!! I'll discuss this one in my next post.

Cool Runnings, or Sorry, but I don't smoke and run

2010-12-12T06:50:00.000-08:00

I suppose it had to happen. It still surprised me when it did, however. Of course I'm talking about someone offering to sell me ganja as I ran by. What was so comical was that it happened so early - probably 1/4 mile into my first run of this trip to Jamaica. The seller's thought process must have been something like, "here comes a rare white American or Brit (one of the few in the entire town right now) who also happens to be running. How can he not want to buy some herbs from me?"

As always, I was polite and said, "no, thanks", just as I said hello and good morning to everyone else on the streets at 6am that wsnted to talk to me. And it seemed as if most of them did.

We stayed in Ocho Rios for three days, and the running wasn't what I'd call idyllic there. Pollution, traffic, bad sidewalks and worse roads. Puddles, potholes and trash. Chickens, goats and dogs. Oh my.

I did manage to get some miles in whilst in Ochi. It was mostly easy stuff, but there were a few hills thrown in for good measure. I also ran on the hotel dreadmill once in order to get some speedwork in.

Running on the beach in Whitehouse was a different story. The Sandals Whitehouse resort owned a large portion of the approximately 2-mile long beach. Of course that's where I'd be doing a good part of my running.

At the end of the Sandals property I encountered a security guard. The beach kept going, but it was deserted beyond the guard. He actually told me that he couldn't allow anyone to leave the property. What was this, a prison? I pressed him, and he said, well, at least stay in during the dark hours (it was early morning). After a couple more laps back and forth, it was light, so I went through - after leaving my name and room number. I understand why they have the security, but this was a bit ridiculous.

The running in Whitehouse was generally good. I ventured out on the roads a couple times, besides an additional run on the beach. All good stuff.

Okay, enough running. Now, where was that ganja guy?

For more on this Jamaica trip, see the 'ole travel blog.

Chasing Connie with a Banana in My Pocket

2010-12-08T15:37:00.000-08:00

It wasn't really in my pocket, but it *was* a real banana. I'd been trying to run her down for the entire third 5-mile lap of the Buckeye Woods 50K, and almost caught her before we reached the aid station. The trouble is, she most assuredly *did not* want me to catch her. She knew that if I did, I'd leave her with some smartass remark that she wouldn't like. That's pretty much what happened during other races when I've managed to pass her up. You know, the ones where she had just run a grueling 100-miler the week before.

I had organized the Buckeye Woods 50K (BW50); it was *my* race. And dad-burn it if I wasn't gonna run it well. We had about 20 starters, and many others showed up later on to run a lap or two. The weather in early December was frightful, however. The snow never let up, although it didn't accumulate to more than an inch or two. But the snow-covered trails weren't much of a problem. What *was* much of a problem were the wind and the cold. Temperatures never made it above 24, and the wind chill was in the low teens or worse.

Despite the conditions, everyone was running well and having fun. Ahead of Connie were Jon Brenenstuhl and Bob Pokorny. I didn't care about them; I just wanted *her*. We talked briefly at the aid station, and she tried to pry open a tupperware type container of bananas. "Here, let a man do it", I said. When I couldn't do it either (my hands were freezing), some nice volunteer did it for us. But by that time Connie had spent all the time she could handle at the station, and took off sprinting into her fourth lap. The volunteers mumbled something about how would they ever get the half-banana to Connie. "Don't worry, I'll catch her and present her with the banana", said I.

All of this transpired within a few seconds, and before I knew it, I was sprinting after Connie with half a banana between my fingers. As I mentioned, I never really put it in my pocket, but I did joke about the whole thing as I passed Debbie, Brad and Ladd coming the other way. I was going full-tilt, but I never made up any ground on my prey. Shortly after I passed those three, I felt it. The pulled calf tugged again.

Until that point, each lap was getting faster than the last. But now I had to slow down drastically in order to keep running at all. Connie was long gone. I was left with the banana, so I eventually ate it myself so as not to let it go to waste.

Now the fourth lap was done, and I was struggling. I bumped into Rachel at the aid station, and we began the fifth lap (her fourth - she started a little late) together. I had thought I'd never get back into the groove again, but whilst running with Rachel, somehow I did. We ran a pretty decent lap.

By the time I started my sixth and final 5-mile lap, I was hurting again. This time it wasn't the calf so much as *everything*. I let Rachel go by and ran slower and slower. Then I came upon Dan, who had been walking. "Let's jog together", I said, and we did. That sure helped me get through it, as did the couple cookies he shared.

My last 5-mile lap and the final mile were excruciatingly slow. But despite everything, I got myself a PR at 4:46. I won't mention that that time should have easily been more in the neighborhood of 4:30. Finishing fourth amongst this group of ultrarunners, is quite an honor however.

Better Just Shoot Me

2010-11-30T10:39:00.000-08:00

Yup, lame again. Reminds me of the jokes I heard back when we got a Polish Pope. His first miracle? He made a blind man lame. Secondly, he cured a ham. But I digress..

Yes, I need to be put down for the good of all. This should have happened a week ago after the CWRRC Fall Classic Half when I pulled my right calf. After that incident, I (uncharacteristically) wisely took a couple days off before hitting the roads again. The problem is that when I did hit them, I hit them a little too hard: 10 with Dave on Wednesday, 22 on the mill on rainy Turkey day, 9 on the mill the next day, and then 16 in Buckeye Woods Saturday followed by 18 at hilly Hinckley on Sunday. That's a heap of running, and my calf paid the price. It was swollen Sunday, Monday and today - Tuesday. Monday was, I think, the worst day. It seemed to be double the size of my left one. This didn't seem good.

The not-so-bad news is that it's a bit better today. I'm concerned about Sunday's Buckeye Woods 50k/50 mile run. Time will tell. I'll try to run tomorrow, and we'll go from there.

I do need to add that these extra pounds do not help this situation. Our traditional Wednesday night dinner with the family was pizza this time. Thursday's turkey was as good as ever, and then there were the leftovers. Not to mention the Cousins' Brunch on Sunday. When will it ever end? (Maybe a bit now that Debbie is back in Connecticut.) Of course the best part of this holiday is family. It was wonderful as always, but Debbie and I miss our Daughters tremendously. We will have them here for Christmas, so that's some consolation.

CWRRC Fall Classic

2010-11-21T17:03:00.000-08:00

This once little half-marathon in the Cleveland metroparks now fills to capacity at about 800 runners plus many hundreds more in the 5k. It seems like everything fills up these days. But the crowd wasn't too much of a problem for me. I've done this one many times, and I pretty much know what to expect. It's a fairly fast course, and I usually do well here. Moreover, I've done well at my last two halves. So expectations were high. (Read: Danger, Will Robinson.)

A bunch of us MCRR folks carpooled down there. This is always fun. It was cold, probably in the upper 30s, so we didn't even want to get out of the car for a picture. We did, eventually, however. But as we lined up and started running, the temperature, now rising into the 40's, felt fine. Things started well for me. I got right down to the solid pace that I'd intended to maintain throughout the race. I saw several other friends before and during the race. There are several turn-arounds in this double out-and-back course, so that helps everyone see everyone else.

I said the crowds weren't much of a problem for me. Actually they were, but it was the 5k runners, not the half-marathoners, that were the problem. As we came to about the 5-mile mark, we bumped into hundreds of 5k runners, who took up large chunks of real-estate. It was challenging to try to get around them. I managed, and came through and around Bonnie Bell Park for at a still-solid pace - right where I wanted to be.

Around about mile 7, my right calf began to hurt. I hoped to run through the pain, but it got worse instead of better. By mile eight I was hurting to the point of limping. By mile nine I was hobbling horribly. Of course lots of folks were passing me, and of course I didn't care - I had other concerns, such as survival.

At some point the level of pain reached a steady state, and so did my now-very-slow pace. I finished in 97-something, about 10 minutes slower than I'd hoped. I still managed third in my age group.

Now I'm hobbling around with this pulled calf muscle. It's been a while since I've had a major injury, and even longer since it happened during a race. I can only hope it'll heal quickly.

The irony is not lost on me. It was just a couple days ago when I posted this little gem: What if Eleanor Roosevelt Could Fly?

Where’s the Dang Statue?

2010-11-19T17:47:00.000-08:00

It’s cool and windy as I turn onto Beacon Street. That wind is right in my face, but the temperature isn’t really so bad, and I’m dressed for the occasion. It’s also dark, but I know that here on the eastern end of the time zone, it’ll get light soon. My hotel is at about mile 23 to 24 along the Boston Marathon Course. I’m running in the opposite direction of the race. This means I’m running uphill for a couple miles until I pass Boston College. Before I reach BC I must turn right on Chestnut Hill at Cleveland Circle, and then left on Commonwealth Avenue. The rest of my run will take place on Comm Ave.

It’s starting to get a little lighter as I reach the top of the hill. Now, about 3.5 miles into my run, I’m looking down Heartbreak Hill. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen it from this perspective before. It occurs to me that this would be the best time to find the statue.

In 1996 a statue of Johnny Kelley was unveiled here on Heartbreak Hill. The hill is named after Kelley because during one of his 61 Boston Marathons, he had earlier passed the leader, Tarzan Brown, but was then in turn passed by Brown near the top of the hill. This reportedly broke Kelley’s heart. But here’s the thing about the statue: I’ve never seen it. I’ve run Boston 10 times, and probably seven of those were after the statue had been placed there. I guess I just don’t know where to look, but Heartbreak Hill really isn’t all that long (or steep, for that matter – but it’s enough to slow you down at mile 20). I figure it to be in the median area somewhere.

Now I’m usually fighting to keep my head up, and I’m usually aware of the crowds and the other runners at this point. So it may be at least a little understandable that I keep missing it. But it’s not for lack of looking. In any case, I’ll find it this time for sure. I head down, looking all around me. There are no cheering crowds. There are other runners, but most are running in the opposite direction: up.

I get the bottom, and I never see it. I’ll have another chance when I run back up however. I go on for another mile or so, including the next of the Newton Hills before I turn back. I’ve gone five miles out. Now the sun is starting to shine, so I’ll see the statue for sure.

Guess what? No statue. I head back to the hotel, enjoying the run and the memories of this great course. I suppose I can go through the rest of my life not having ever seen the statue. The run was nice enough anyway.

What if Eleanor Roosevelt Could Fly?

2010-11-18T04:17:00.001-08:00

Whilst on the Towpath during last Thursday’s early morning run, Dave hit me with a hypothetical query: what if I could no longer run? It was a good question, and it gave me pause. These types of questions also do something else to me: they remind me of a good old series of SNL skits based on extremely silly what-if hypothetical problems. Two that come to mind are, What if Eleanor Roosevelt Could Fly, and What if Napoleon had a Nuclear Bomb at the Battle of Waterloo?

For his part, Dave, good and serious runner that he is, would be just fine if he couldn’t run. Having a young family tends to help focus one’s priorities. Me? Oh, I’d be fine too. Running isn’t *that* big a part of my life.

I’d probably no longer work at the store, but that would be all right. The income is small, and I wouldn’t miss the friends I’ve made amongst my fellow workers and customers.

I would quit being involved with the Medina County Road Runners. No problem there. Oh, maybe I’d miss my many close friends there a little, but this still wouldn’t be a problem for me.

I would probably stop directing races, including NC24. This would give me lots of extra time and relieve me of some extraneous stress. I’d also no longer volunteer at races, freeing up even more time.

I’d have to find something else to do with my Saturday and Sunday mornings. This shouldn’t be a problem. I could start by sitting around and reading the paper. For that matter, I’d have to find something else to do with almost every early morning and maybe try sleeping in.

There would be no more racing every two or three weeks. I wouldn’t miss the competition and pressure to train and perform well at these events. And I wouldn’t miss seeing all my competitor friends at them. No, in fact I wouldn’t miss that competition at all.

Of course I wouldn’t have running to keep me in mental and physical shape. These are both of equal importance, and running is one of the best, if not *the* best thing for them. But I’d find alternatives. Sure.

Yeah, I would be fine if I could no longer run. Perhaps my life would be even better. Any more hypotheticals?

After last Thursday’s run, I ran Saturday morning with some of the usual bunch at Lock 29. We went south on the Towpath for a change, and wound up doing the 5-mile Perkins loop just ahead of the Bill’s Bad Ass 50K on the same course. What a blast that was?

Brian and Ginny came to visit Saturday and Sunday. I took Brian to Hinckley and we did the big loop together, a bit slower than the rest of the gang. More fun.

After two relatively easy weekend runs, I thought I’d be ready for a strong 11-mile training run on Monday. Think again. For reasons I can’t figure out, I failed to get down to tempo pace that morning. To atone, I hit the mill to do 3 miles at 6 minute pace, as I’d done last week. Monday night Connie, Ladd, Bob, Janet and I scouted trails at Buckeye Woods Park. I think we’ll be able to pull off an ultra there.

Tuesday was better: I did two tempo runs – four out of the six-mile loop, and then the entire Presidents three-mile loop.

What was that question again? What if I couldn’t run? I’d just ….. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Two Tempo Trots Today, Track Tonight

2010-11-12T13:47:00.000-08:00

This was actually last Tuesday's Title (Hey, I could've prefaced the above title with "Tuesday's Title:"! But the point is that I've been running fairly hard lately. And based on the result at Stomp the Grapes, I think it's working. It's not that I'm running all that much faster - I still have terribly slow leg speed - I've just been doing more of my runs at a faster pace, including several tempo runs per week. Oh, I'm still taking rest days and getting occasional slow stinker runs. I will be trying hard to run next weekend's Fall Classic Half even faster than STG.

Other news:
1) I'm managing to survive without Debbie. But I don't like it. I think I said that right.
2) Brian and daughter Ginny are coming to visit tomorrow. It's been years.
3) My consulting work is picking up. In fact I've been downright busy lately.
4) There's most likely other non-running stuff going on in my life, but I can't for the life of me think of any of it right now.

Grapes Well Stomped

2010-11-07T10:44:00.000-08:00

I don't know when or if I'd ever beaten Ron Legg before. Perhaps when he was injured; perhaps never at all. But I had begun to see him ahead of me between miles 10 and 11, and eventually overtook him a bit before the 12-mile mark. There were some big hills remaining, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to maintain my advantage, but I had been coming on strong since mile 10, and Ron looked to be slowing. We grunted good luck to each other as I went by, and I did manage to stay ahead, as I also passed a couple others.

Yes, I was having a good run at the 2010 Stomp the Grapes Half-Marathon. I had also been entertaining thoughts of breaking the 55-59 age group record of 1:27:4x. When I hit mile 12 in 1:21 flat, I thought there was still a very slight, itsy-bitsy possibility. Although I'd been running faster and faster, the last mile would need to be my fastest of all - a low 6 minutes, considering that the final point-1 would need to be factored in as well.

But then I hit the hills. They weren't that much worse in the last mile than anywhere else in the second half of the course, but they were enough to ensure that there would be no record in the geezer age group today. I finished in 1:28:25. Best in years, and good enough for First Grand Geez... I mean Grand Master. Not too shabby.

The race was high on the hassle factor scale: 12 noon start, being bussed to the start after the finish (and waiting a long time), having to arrive very early, etc., etc. But, the rewards were good: wine, good shirts, socks and a hat, and then a $25 gift certificate for my win. That would only buy me one bottle of wine and a bit of cheese, but that was better than nothing.

As always, the best part was the fun being with the MCRR folks. As usual, we had a good contingent, and you just can't beat the camaraderie. The icing on the cake? I beat my arch-rival Jan!

Okay, one more thing. I have to tell the story of the shoes. Connie came into work shortly after me on Friday. She tried on a pair of shoes that she had special ordered for herself, some Mizuno Ronin racing flats. They were much to big for her, and we realized that she'd ordered and received a men's and not a women's shoe - they are unisex sized. So of course I tried them on, and they fit perfectly.

I tried to pay Connie, and she wouldn't take the money. She said that if I could run a minute faster than my best 1/2 marathon of the year using the new shoes, she would allow me to pay her for them. What if I can't? "Then I'll just take them back," she said. Never mind that returns weren't allowed, I just wouldn't have deserved them. Also never mind that my incentive was kind've backward. Wouldn't I have tried harder to run fast if it would *save*, and not *cost me* money? Never mind. This was Connie logic at work.

With my 1:28, I did indeed earn the honor of paying for the shoes.

Stop the Fun!

2010-11-01T14:26:00.000-07:00

Yes, the fun is getting to be too much for me. It needs to stop.

Last week Debbie and I "Hiked Ohio", by going to Mohican one day, and then to Hocking Hills and Salt Fork another couple days at the end of the week. Wonderful hiking trails, all. And we were lucky to have great fall weather too. But the fun was only beginning.

Saturday, after my morning run on the towpath with my MCRR friends, after putting in a few hours at the store, we attended a clambake/get-ready-for-Jamaica party at Sandy and Nancy's. Now the fun was really getting going.

Sunday, of course, was the most fun of all. Debbie and I were in charge of the Pine Hollow aid station for Run with Scissors. Arriving before 5am, we, along with a great team of helpers, set everything up and prepared for the onslaught of runners. The crowds of runners thinned out quickly, and tapered down more and more as the day wore on. It felt cold and raw, so we had a huge bonfire going in the pit. That saved us! We were done by about 5pm and then hurried back to the start to unload our supplies and head home.

Why the rush? It was trick-or-treat night, silly.

Enough fun.

Flying at 9:40 Pace

2010-10-26T05:18:00.000-07:00

After doing 14 on the towpath Saturday and 19 at Hinckley Sunday, I thought I'd feel pretty lousy on Monday. But I didn't; I actually felt really good as I burst out the door and started sprinting up 303. Chalk those good feelings up to the protein.

There was only one minor problem: That sprint up 303 took me 9 minutes and 40 seconds. Granted, it's a big hill, but sheesh. It felt like 6:40. The rest of that run went downhill from there. So to speak.

Today's run was better: I did my 11-mile loop in 86 minutes. The problem with today's run was that in included an NTE. That's Near Tempo Experience. I couldn't maintain a sub-seven minute pace for 3 miles. Close, but no cigar. It was still decent overall, however.

It's time to start getting a little more serious; I have two upcoming half-marathons to attend to.

Protein

2010-10-21T16:13:00.000-07:00

When you consider how awful I felt Sunday and Monday, it's pretty amazing that I was able to run so well, and feel so good doing it, on Tuesday and Thursday this week. I am giving the credit to clean living and protein powder mix.

I've been doing the protein shake thing off an on most of the year, and all along I had a strong suspicion that it was helping my recoveries. Helping a lot. After Cbus, I'm more sure than ever that it's helping; there's no other explanation.

Another interesting diet/nutrition happening, one that's in conflict with the observation above, is an ongoing discussion with John McCarroll and others about veganism. John's a vegan, and he has had pretty amazing results from that diet change. He also believes that protein is over-rated.

My take is that I'm interested in vegitarianism, but I am still convinced that the protein is helping. I'll continue to listen to other ideas however.

Cbus

2010-10-18T01:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure when or why people started calling Columbus Cbus, but it does seem to work. So of course the Columbus Marathon can also simply be called Cbus.

Well over 20 Medina County Road Runners made the trek, and as predicted, it was a blast. Our little carload included Debbie, Brad, Michelle, Nancy and Dan Daubner. Brad was able to get all of us, *and* all our stuff, into his SUV. We were able to adhere to Debbie's *rigid* schedule for the trip and our time on Saturday. That meant getting to lunch, the expo and then dinner as planned. Dinner at Buca's was still more fun.

We lined up for the group photo, then lined up for the race and were off. The weather was almost perfect: upper 40s at the start, and mostly 50s during the course of the morning's running. I never felt too warm or too cold.

Except, that is, for the arm-warmer problem. Charles and his family made tie-died arm warmers for everyone from old tube socks. A little reluctantly, I wore mine for the first several miles. They actually felt great for most of that time. By about mile 8 or so, they started feeling too warm. I mentioned to Debbie that I didn't really want to throw them away, so she suggested I stuff them in my shorts. My response was, "people might think I have a problem." She suggested the back of my shorts, and my response was, "people might think I had a *different* problem." With no better options available, I did toss them. At that point I did feel fine again, temperature-wise.

Several of the early miles were with Debbie. I made a pit stop, but caught her again. We saw the governor in beautiful Bexley at about the 4 mile mark. The plan was for Brad, Debbie and I to stick with the 3:20 pace group, at least for most of the way. Brad wanted to try to qualify for Boston with a 3:15, however, so he started to get ahead of us fairly early on. Debbie and I were just ahead of the group when they caught us at about mile 8 or 9. I stayed ahead of them, but Debbie fell back.

I picked it up a bit more, and was probably a minute ahead of the group at the half-way point in about 1:38:40.

A few weeks ago I ran some pretty good late-summer races, including the Crim 10-Mile and the River Run Half. Based on my times at these races, I thought I was in pretty good shape, and had a shot at improving on my spring marathon times. It would be tough to beat the 3:13 I did in Cleveland, but I thought I had it in me. But then I found myself in Romania. I always seem to eat too much when I travel, and this trip was no exception. To atone for the increase in calories, I tried to run more, and of course this just exacerbated the tapering problem. So my plan for Cbus was to try to run with the 3:20 pace group and "see what happens".

By the time I'd reached 13.1 miles, however, I was starting to think 3:15. That would take pretty good negative splits, but I thought it was possible. I picked up the pace a bit, and caught Brad when we were going through the OSU campus at about mile 16. We stayed together for a while, but he was struggling and fell back. I hit mile 20 at pretty close to 2:30. I would have to pick it up even more in the final 10k.

I did manage to run still slightly faster than I had been. I didn't quite do 3:15, but I did the next best minute: 3:16 (and 13 seconds). In that second half, and especially that final 10k, I'd given it all I had.

3:16 is pretty good, and I'm happy with it. But would it have been better if I didn't travel? If I wouldn't have run 40 miles the previous weekend? It's hard to say.

After a fun after-the-race get together at Max & Erma's, it was back into Brad's vehicle, and onto the road again. Amongst other things, we discussed burnout. Several MCRR runners were at least somewhat unhappy with their runs, and a couple had to drop out with injuries. Debbie especially felt Burned out (notice the capital B), after all the racing she's done recently, she had a tough time in the second half. Brad was a bit disappointed too. Michelle, Dan and Nancy, on the other hand, were fairly happy with their runs. What about my 3:16? I could try for a faster marathon at Inland Trail next week, but considering the burnout factor, am thinking better of it. I do have Stomp the Grapes Half in three weeks. That should be enough.

(Another) Rhapsody of Running in Romania

2010-10-10T08:15:00.000-07:00

This is my fourth trip to Bucharest, so by now I know some of the best running routes. In some ways, they’re actually quite good, and in others, such as the dog aspect, not so great.

The parks are really wonderful, and there sure are a lot of them. On the minus side, most of these city parks are quite small, so I’ve got to run several loops. For example, it’s only a mile around the closest one, Parcul Izvor. One of the next closest ones, Parcul Carol, is only slightly bigger. Parcul Tineretului is the biggest one that’s anywhere close – I can get a couple miles when running around the lake and on the bike trail above the lake there. Of course the biggest minus is still the stray dogs. They are still a problem for any run through any and every park or neighborhood.

As usual, besides Parcul Izvor, I do a lot of loops around the Palatul Parlamentului. I managed to do two consecutive sub-13 minute 1.85 mile circuits of the palace the other day, so I can call it a tempo run. My loops around Izvor haven’t been so fast. Yet.

I have to run though scenic Parcul Carol to get to the also scenic Parcul Tineretului. I do this for my longer runs. It’s tough to beat Tineretului for good running. It’s big and hilly, with a decent sized lake, and lots of asphalt trails. I can get a lot of miles in there, as I do on my longer runs.

Saturday’s long run was a case in point, I did 4 1-mile loops around Izvor, then, as noted, went through Carol and over to Tineretului. There I ran around and around, finally figuring out how to make a complete circuit of the lake. That took about 14 minutes, but there was plenty more running to be had there. Altogether I was in the park for about an hour and forty-five minutes. The dogs in a run-down neighborhood on the way back spoiled my overall fun a bit, but it was a good one, all in all. I’m calling the entire run a twenty.

I figure that I’ve put on between five and ten pounds during the week I’ve been here. And my stay ain’t over yet. This does not bode well at all, not at all, for my upcoming Columbus Marathon. It usually takes me several days to get back to normal, and I won’t have several days. I’m now giving serious thought to doing the Inland Trail Marathon, and doing Columbus only as a training run.

To try to atone for my awful gluttony here, I did a second long run over the weekend. It had been a while since I’d run 40 miles over a weekend, but I sure felt like I needed the mileage this time. The second weekend long run didn’t go nearly as well as the first. I started slow and finished slower. Most of the miles were in Tineretului, whilst the last few were in Izvor – kind of the opposite of yesterday.

Addendum – For my last couple runs, I’ve been mostly running loops around the now familiar Parcul Tineretului, and especially around nearby Parcul Izvor. It’s fun to explore new areas, but I never run as fast when I’m doing so. Izvor appeals because it’s almost exactly a mile, and there are no major curbs to negotiate in the dark. Tuesday I managed to get down to tempo pace for three of these miles, followed by some other decent running half-loop (800m) pickups. Wednesday I explored Tineretului a bit more. I guess I got the miles in, so things could be worse.

For more on my running and daily life in Romania, check out this post from my 2009 trip, A Day in the Life. I think you will like it.

And for more general information on my travel adventures to Romania, see my travel blog entry.

Akron Marathon

2010-09-28T07:29:00.000-07:00

"That's the last hill. You're at the top. It's all downhill from here." I wish I had a nickel for every time I heard that, or something just like it, over the last 10 miles.

After missing a couple days of training due to NC24, I jumped back in last week to try to get right back to where I had been. I also decided, with only a few days to left, to go ahead and run Akron. I'd heard that it was *wonderful*, and I thought I'd find out for myself.

So I found myself lined up with a few thousand of my best friends on a nice and relatively cool Akron morning. After the gun, the hills didn't take very long to materialize. It was down for the first mile or two, then up, up, up for the next several. After a while, I found it impossible to keep up with my training partner Debbie Scheel, and instead ran and talked with friend Kevin. It was good to see so many friends before, during and after the race.

It got a bit easier as I hit the towpath just before half-way. The TP and Sand Run are very pretty areas, and they make this race memorable. Hey, woudn't it be great to have a race that's entirely on the TP? Oh, I forgot. There already is one.

I probably did pick it up a little for those 4+ miles. Then came Sand Run: several miles - almost all of it uphill. Tough for everyone, including me. Brad caught me for a while, but then I pulled away again. I eventually began to spot Debbie up ahead. When I caught her later on I tried to get her to go with me, but that didn't happen. I went on to pass Connie, who was just less than a week recovered from her 141 NC miles. Seems that's the only time I can beat her is right after a hundred or more miles. Of course I had yet another smart remark ready for her when I did: "You need to learn to run while drinking water," I said as she stopped at an aid station.

From about mile 15 to about 23, the trend of the race is up, up, up. Only the last two are back down a bit, but by then I was fairly shot. I came in at 3:23. I had only wanted to do a training run here, so the time, and the even splits, are fine with me. But I never thought it would be this hard. Not even with all the warnings I'd had from friends. It was really, really tough.

Would I do it again? The race organization was as wonderful as advertised. Very good attention to detail. And I may consider it as part of a relay. But run the entire bird again? One of the toughest I've ever done anywhere? What do you think?

2010 NC24

2010-09-28T07:10:00.000-07:00

It's over. Has been for a week and a half. And I thought things were supposed to ease in my life now. They didn't.

We had a volunteer/organizer party at our place Saturday. Yesterday I went to the MCRR meeting to talk about the race, only to learn that everyone there, except Lisa, had actually been at the race in some capacity. Tonight is our organizational team wrap-up / post mortem. On top of all that, we went to Shannon's last week to get all the race equipment and supplies, so we could bring them back home. Now Debbie has inventoried and deposited everything into containers, and the next step is to build some shelving for it in the garage (last year we'd stacked it in the basement). And on top of all that... I'm dealing with a never-ending barrage of emails about the race. This in itself is a full-time job.

I must say that the event itself was another huge success. Not that there isn't room for improvement, mind you. That, of course, is one of the main subjects for tonight's meeting. But thanks to the fantastic volunteers and great organizers, NC24 was a great experience for all of us - including, even, the runners.

By far, the most important thing to do when organizing an event like this is to get the best possible team. And I did that. Without a doubt, Shannon, Roy, Frank, Joe, Debbie Horvath, Debbie Horn, Charles and several others that I'm probably forgetting, were the backbone of the event. We couldn't have been successful without them.

Like last year, when I saw it all unfold, it was truly amazing. And gratifying to the n'th degree. Of course it was hard work - not only during the 24 hours, but for several days before and after. But it was, as they say, a labor of love.

Think I'll do it all again next year? Stay tuned..

River Run Double Half-Marathon

2010-09-13T12:45:00.000-07:00

10 miles in just under 69 minutes. That's in between the finish times for the two ten-milers I've done in recent weeks. Would I be able to keep that same pace, or even pick it up a bit for the final 5K?

It had been a couple years since I was able to dip under 1:30 for a half-marathon. For the River Run Half, I made a point to tell everyone that 1:29 was my goal, and after the Crim, I felt I was ready.

Several of my MCRR friends were there. The weather was decent - low 60s, and a little humid. I ran the early miles with Debbie Scheel, but by mile 3 I was mostly alone, and stayed that way for the rest of the run. I knew I needed about a 6:50 pace, and I did manage to get to the half-way point in about 44 and a half minutes, give or take.

It took a great deal of concentration, but I did manage to make those final three miles my best ones. The last 5K was about 20:40, so I finished in 1:29:31. Some faster old geezer showed up, so I was only second in my age group. But I'm happy with this one. There may be a way to squeeze out another minute or so in some future race, but by and large I feel like I'm running to my potential. And that's a good thing.

After kibitzing with my friends at the finish, it was time to run back to the car. Yes, Jack and I had parked at the start with plans to jog back afterward. It had sounded like a good idea at the time. But those additional 13 or so miles were pretty darn tough - even though they were at a slow 9-minute pace. I think I was bonking due to lack of nutrition, because I felt better when I took a gel. We did eventually make it back to the start. It was a lot of running for one day.

Tremendous Training Trail Trots: Twenty-Two, Twenty-Two, Ten. Tempos Too.

2010-09-07T07:43:00.001-07:00

Probably don't need to say much else; the title says it all. Almost.

The story should probably start with last Tuesday's speed sessions. Yes, sessions with an 's'. I ran well at both, but afterwards my right knee seemed abnormally tender. This didn't seem like too big a deal.

Thursday I met Dave at the towpath, and I wound up with twenty-two terrific towpath training miles. It was a pretty steady eight-minute to slightly slower pace. After this run, the 'ole knee hurt more - especially going down stairs. I learned that it may be patella tendinitis, or possibly bursitis. Either way I need to treat it with ice and ibuprofen, which I'm doing.

On Saturday I drove to Connecticut for a visit (Debbie is still there, and will stay another week because although Malcolm is fine, Veronica is still recovering). I ran on the Housitonic Trail on Sunday (22) and Monday (10), and did well. I managed to get down to tempo pace for two slightly downhill sections on Sunday, and one on Monday.

So the running has been good. But what the heck do I do with this aching knee?

E.N. Hines Drive

2010-08-29T17:34:00.001-07:00

This is a parkway just west of Detroit. I've run here many times, but am always impressed that there's so much of it. It's sort of like our Metroparks parkway in the Cleveland area. Some of my past running here includes the Martian Marathon (a couple times), the Detroit Free Press Marathon training run (a couple times), several runs with friends Paul, Doug and Keith beginning at Paul's in Novi, and more.

Today I was staying at Six Mile in Livonia, and I wanted to get a long run in before heading home. I ran west on Six Mile, south on Haggerty (forgetting that the bike trail runs north/south along I275), to catch Hines Drive south of Plymouth Rd. I figure that was a good five miles right there. I decided to go west on Hines, rather than the slightly more familiar easterly direction. As noted, I was surprised at how far it actually went on. I was also surprised at how nice and peaceful it was. Back to the direction and distance: at some point I believe I was going north before heading back to the west again. At another point it felt as though I was making a big semi-circle, coming to Northville Road twice.

Although I was fairly tired, I felt like I was proceeding at a decent enough pace. I turned around after another 45 minutes, figuring that this was a good 10 miles total each way. After I turned back, I tried to pick it up some. Surprisingly, I did. My last few miles were probably the best.

Another 20-miler in the books.

Better than Perfect

2010-08-29T17:30:00.001-07:00

This is familiar territory in more ways than one. I pass mile 9 in something just under 62 minutes. It is a minute or so faster than this point in the Perfect 10-Miler a couple weeks ago. At that race, I had very little left, and I finished with a fairly slow final mile. Do I have anything left this time? This time it’s the Crim 10-Miler, and I’m in familiar territory not only with the time and challenge of the final mile, but also because I’m back up in Michigan, running a race I’ve done many times with old friends.

Where were all those old friends this time? Perhaps it’s been too long. I had FaceBooked a couple folks who would be there, and I thought that I’d simply know just about everyone else, as seemed to be the case at all those previous Crim races in the 80’s and 90’s. This time out, I did see a couple familiar faces, but none of my closer friends, including Jim Karner, whom I’d FB’d. I nodded to some of the folks, but hardly said two words to anyone. Did I mention that there were over 10,000 runners? The sheer numbers may have been a factor in the ability to find folks.

The reason I’m back in Michigan is to attend the wedding of Erich Watry, son of old friends Mike and Linda Leinius. I’d spent the previous night visiting Greg and Dot Worley, who conveniently live closer to Flint than the location of the wedding reception in Livonia. I’m doing all this on my own, since Debbie is still in Connecticut, helping her daughter and new grandson.

It had been a cool night, with temperatures in the fifties and low humidity for a change. By the 8am start the sun was warming things up to around 70F, but the humidity was still low. These were the best race conditions I’d had in months. The start was as crowded as I’d expected. I was seeded into a corral with other sub-7 minute runners. Since I’m now just *barely* under that pace, I did place myself at the *end* of that corral. The first couple miles appeared very familiar to me; it was starting to seem like I’d never left.

Those early miles are fairly flat and indeed fast. I tried to keep them at just under 7-minute pace without working too hard. As the race unfolded, I couldn’t quite remember where the Bradley Hills were. I remembered that they were somewhere in the middle, but I was reminded of their location soon enough. Although the Crim is a fast course, those Bradley Hills do make it challenging. They turned out to be from about mile 4.25 to about 6.25, give or take. And once again, they did indeed slow me down some.

The Bradley’s are probably tougher than the hills I’d experienced at the Wooster Heart and Sole Half-Marathon the previous week. The hills at that race are more constant, but not as steep. I’d made the trip to Wooster with several MCRR friends, and we had a blast there as usual. My time for Wooster was 1:33 and change, including a strong finish. This was better than last year, but slower than the one before. The heat and humidity didn’t help at all.

The weather for the Crim was still comfortable as I came through that tough hilly section. The second half is quite scenic, as there are generally parks on one side of the road, and large old beautiful homes on the other. I did manage to get the mile split times back down to sub-7 after a couple slower miles through the hills. This is where the race truly begins.

After mile 9 I try to run faster. My legs are barely responding, but I suppose that I have indeed kicked it up a notch. Then with about a third of a mile to go, I turn onto Saginaw Street. I see and I remember that it truly is all downhill from here. Now I pick it up even more, passing a few runners as I go. One or two pass me as well, but I’m doing as well as can be expected. I get to the brick portion of Saginaw for the final couple blocks and pick it up once more, to ramming speed. I cross the line in 1:08:30 or so. I believe that the difference between the gun time and my chip time may be on the order of 15 seconds, so my chip time may be closer to 1:08:15. That final mile was a fast one. At sub-6:30, it was my fastest of the day.

This is indeed better than Perfect. I’d done 1:09:55 at the Perfect-10. Here I was better than that by a minute and a half or more. The low humidity probably made all the difference, as this is surely a tougher course.

After the race I continue to look for old friends, but only found a few familiar faces. Later on at the wedding, who should I see but Jim and Debbie Deren? It turns out that their daughter was in the wedding party, and is close friends with both Erich and Michelle. How ironic to finally run into an old running friend where he wasn’t at all expected. More ironic than that, Jim had done the Crim this day as well. You can’t make this stuff up.

Malcolm Dancer

2010-08-19T02:18:00.001-07:00

This little post is not about running at all. It's about being a Grandpa.

Malcolm Dancer came into the world Friday, August 13, 2010. Veronica and Barry, and the new kid on the block are all doing quite fine. Debbie has been in Connecticut to help for a couple weeks already, and she continues to do so. Everyone's home now, and doing fine.

I made the long trip to visit for a couple days, and I was very proud and happy to hold Malcolm. I'd forgotten what it was like to hold a baby. What a joy!

The Perfect 10-Miler and an Animal Farm Concept

2010-08-19T01:54:00.000-07:00

I've run every one of these Perfect 10-Milers since the race's inception in 2003. And every year I've done well there. Even though last year's 1:08:40 was my slowest ever, I was still happy with it. With all the hard running I've been doing, I thought I could beat that time this year. Heck, I even tapered a wee bit.

Seven of us MCRR folks squeezed into Debbie's vehicle to head up to Lyndhurst for the always fun camaraderie. It was warm and extremely humid. But I wasn't about to let that get the better of me. Or would I?

As planned, I started at just under seven minute pace. I saw Debbie and Connie, and a few others, early on and at the turnaround. After running this one so many times, I knew about the uphill sections in miles 5 and 6. Half-way went by in 34 and a half minutes - about the same as last year. Those hills slowed me a little as expected, but I was going to lower the hammer for those last four. Sure enough, downhill miles 7 and 8 were pretty good (although not as fast as expected). Even then, If I could've managed a really fast final two miles, I would've been okay. I couldn't, and I wasn't. The last two were around seven minutes, so I finished in 69:55. Very disappointing. As expected, this was tempered by the fun of being with all my MCRR friends.

I'm not disappointed because I ran a dumb race, or because I feel like I didn't give it my all. And it's not because I didn't place in my age group, whereas I won it last year and in previous years. I ran it just as I should have, but of course I wanted to go a little faster in the second half. And I was totally spent, especially in that high humidity. Regarding placing, you just never know who will show up. My disappointment is due to the slowing of my times here and at other races. This, in spite of the fact that I'm working so hard to run hard in my training. Maybe I should just not train so hard?

This weekend I've got the Wooster half-marathon, and next weekend the Crim 10-Miler. After this one, I'm not very hopeful about those.

A little more about the training: yes it's been pretty decent. 70 mile weeks; Speedwork here and there (including two sessions last Tuesday); some Hinckley hills and other long and medium-long stuff. It seems like it should be enough to evoke some improvement. I suppose that like the Horse in Animal Farm, I'll just have to say, "I will work harder."

Tendinitis? Shin Splits? Whatever You Call it, it Hurts

2010-08-08T16:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Ladd, Janet, Charles and I did a slower paced run through Buckeye Woods Park and Chippewa Lake via roads, dirt and bike trails. It was a beautiful day for a run and an enjoyable course, but I was in pain the entire way.

My right shin had been acting up for a week now - ever since a long run with Jeanine the previous Thursday. There's been a noticeable lump at the source of the pain, and my entire ankle was swollen with edema at times. The pain itself has come and gone a couple times during the week. Dr. Joe seemed to have it cured completely, but it came back with a vengeance during that run yesterday.

I was therefore very concerned about today's Hilly Hinckley long run that also promised to be at a faster pace. A good bunch showed up, including Michele, Ladd, Debbie S., Jack, Brad, Dan, and probably a couple others that I can't remember. I tried to stay with Mandy for the first 9+ mile loop, and then Debbie, Jack and Ladd on the second one. A few of us followed all that up with a 3+ mile lake loop. Two surprises: 1) I ran ok. 2) I had no pain whatsoever, even with the hills and fast pace. Whatdoyaknow?

This afternoon was the MCRR picnic, organized with great care by Debbie and Nancy. It was a fun event, even though I had to enjoy it without Debbie H.

Addendum: I have been feeling much better - almost 100%, but the pain came back a bit today (Aug. 19).

The 100-Mile Party

2010-08-08T16:24:00.000-07:00

Suzanne Pokorny is the volunteer coordinator for the Burning River 100-Mile Endurance Run. She's done it for a couple years now and by all accounts does a wonderful job of organizing over 20 aid stations and hundreds of volunteers spread out over the 100 mile point-to-point course. This year Suzanne worked her usual wonders of organizing everything, but then went on to run the race. Who would step in for her on race day itself? Hmmmm. I couldn't think of a good enough excuse not to, so I became Volunteer-Coordinator-For-The-Day.

It turned out that Suzanne did such a great job ahead of time that I wound up doing precious little more than show up at each aid station and ask if they needed anything. A few did, so I actually did add some value. Most of the time, however, I felt like just the window dressing - just appearing and accepting at least some of the praise for a great event.

Actually, RD Joe Jurczyk, Suzanne, and all of the other volunteers deserve all the accolades they can get. At least they do get some - mostly from the runners, who have been just about unanimous in their praise for the race and the volunteers.

Each aid station operated like a small city with it's own mayor (the aid station captain). They all took their jobs very seriously, yet managed to inject a great deal of fun into the event as well. That's why I call it a 100-mile party. How better to spend 30-plus consecutive hours of a weekend.

It was actually more and less than that. More in that I had arrive in Willoughby Hills well before the 5am Saturday start, and I had to be on hand for the awards over an hour after the 11am Sunday finish. Less in that I unexpectedly managed to break away for a 3-hour or so nap during the night. Joe was, of course, extremely tired and losing his voice, so I took over the announcing duties. That was a great deal of fun - seeing everyone, including many that I know - cross the finish line in Cuyahoga Falls all night and morning.

Does all the enjoyment I had make me want to go and, for the second time, do such a thing myself? Not on your life.

Burning and Baching

2010-07-28T06:04:00.001-07:00

Burning refers to Burning River, as in the BR100, in which I'm becoming more and more involved. I'm not complaining - I'm happy to be of help. This weekend will be a looong one for me however. I'll have to be around the entire 30 hours beginning Saturday morning. This after the Friday dinner and packet pickup festivities.

Batching refers to bachin' it, since my wife has left me. No, I don't think it's permanent; Debbie went to Connecticut to help Veronica and Barry with the soon-to-be birth of their son. The plan is for me to pick her up Labor Day weekend. That's a long way away. This leaves me with the cats, the garden, the house (to clean and cook), etc., etc. I'm not complaining - I'm happy to be of help. My workload is such that I should have enough time to take care of these things, but this could change in a hurry. We'll see.

For some reason I *have* been finding time to run. I got some good running in over the weekend. Saturday was our NC24 training run. As expected, I only had time for 11 miles or so. But I did manage to get a tempo run in the mix. Sunday was the club's Double Trouble race. This year I volunteered to help the entire time and not run. So I got a track workout in before the race: my 20 x 400/100 for 6.2 miles workout. It went very well, as did the volunteering for the race.

Of course Monday's run paid the price for two good runs in a row: it was 11 VERRRY SLOOOW miles. But I bounced back yesterday for 8 x 800 with the usual Tuesday track group. That was yet another good workout for me. I may run long with some MCRR folks tomorrow, or I may do it on my own on Friday. Time marches on.

I Hear That Train A-Coming....

2010-07-20T11:43:00.000-07:00

Yes, I heard it coming. But my brain was in denial. After all, funny stuff such as getting caught by trains and drawbridges only happens to other people, right? As I approached from the road and saw the train barreling down the tracks in front of me, I decided that denial would no longer work for me. Instead, it was indeed time to assess my options. And of course there weren't any, other than to stop and wait.

The race was the Wellington Cheese Festival 10K. After some really awful race times, I'd decided that I needed to get a fast 10K in, and that this was the race to do it. It would be small (actually, tiny), and flat and fast. After the 10K runners split off from the 5K'ers, things got spread out very quickly.

When I got to the train, there was one guy already standing and (anxiously) waiting. He said he thought he was third (but one of the folks ahead of him was Chelsea Oswald, who happens to be a woman). After I got there, Al King arrived, and I think one more came in after him. We had a nice conversation for a couple minutes. How many minutes, you ask? I didn't know at the time because I stopped my watch. We were past mile four and I think I was at about 27 minutes at that point.

Time passed. The caboose eventually came by, and the race resumed. The fast guy, Al and I quickly got into the same order that we'd arrived in. Some other stuff happened in those last two miles, but we still managed to finish in that order.

So my finishing time (43 something) isn't so bad if you consider the train time. I figure it at 41:24, which would indeed be a decently fast 10K.

Saved by the Track

2010-07-14T15:22:00.000-07:00

Last week's track session wasn't so hot. I take that back. It was hot. 93 degrees or so. It was my running that wasn't so hot. In fact it was awful. No one felt like pushing it in that heat, so we just did some straightaways. But I couldn't even do very well for those. Even though it was still hot and humid, I hit the track again on Thursday morning to do some mile intervals. Lo and behold I managed to get a few decent ones in (but I really struggled to get home in the heat). Then I hit the track again on Saturday and managed to do an unexpected 3-mile tempo run. Yesterday it was a little cooler than last week (80 vs 93) and the 6 x 800 session went very well for me. And today I was having a rough time getting the miles in after only 10 hours rest, so I went to the track just to gauge my pace. And guess what? I was able to get back to a decent pace by doing so.

What do these runs (except for the first one) have in common? The track, of course. It's a wonderful place!

Other happenings include a run at Hinckley on Sunday that went really well, and then there were some other junk miles here and there.

The Jessy and Veronica weekend parties were lots of fun. Now come the cleanup and dealing with the leftovers.

Doldrums

2010-07-07T16:16:00.000-07:00

Doldrums are the area near the equator where, due to low pressure, the winds are calm and sometimes nonexistent. In modern lexicon, doldrums refer to, according to Wikepedia, "being in a state of listlessness, despondency, inactivity, stagnation, or a slump". That pretty much sums things up for me for this summer. It's happened in the past as well, so I'm not overly concerned.

But lookyahere: I've done several shorter races where I couldn't even manage a seven minute pace. Notable inclusions would be my last two races, the Medina Twin Sizzler 10K at the North Canton YMCA 5-mile. There were plenty of others as well. Now I've had a couple half-way decent races lately as well, but only a couple: the Wadsworth 4-mile and the Medina Twin Sizzler 5K. And it's not only my races. My last two training runs, Tuesday Track and a Fifteen today were stinkers as well. Nine-minute per mile pace is the new Eight.

There's nothing mysterious about the causes: extreme heat and humidity for most of the summer (although it was cooler for the two decent races I noted), as well as my own gluttony and sloth (two out of seven deadlies aren't bad). The gluttony includes eating multiple hot dogs and potato chips - things I never, ever eat normally - over the last several days from our 4th of July cookout. This weekend, with Jessy's Graduation and Veronica's baby shower promise to include more bad stuff. And the sloth? Well, maybe not really, because I really am trying. I just like the concept.

Good, Bad and Ugly

2010-07-05T16:05:00.000-07:00

That's the result when you run two races within 13 hours one weekend, and then 3.5 races within 25 hours a week later.

I've been trying to ramp up the intensity by doing even more speedwork (now twice per week - once with the gang and once by myself) and also by concentrating even more on these ubiquitous shorter races. The ubiquitous shorter races I'm referring to?

Start with the Wadsworth 4-miler. The Friday evening temperatures were very decent - probably under 80. They had a good crowd, including some very serious talent. I think I ran well, but it's a little hard to tell. In the midst of some good-sounding 6:30 or so miles came a faster sub-6 mile for mile two. I finished with something like 25:12. It turned out to be too good to be true - mile two was short - by as much as .25 mile. Even so, it was a good run for me, and I won the geezer age group.

The next morning Ladd and I drove to the Green YMCA 10K race. Once again it was fairly cool for this time of year. I ran a steady pace and finished in about 42:55. This was a minute or so better than my other 10K's of the year so far, and I was pretty darn happy with it!

The weather got even cooler and nicer for a few days, I it sure was a relief! The Tuesday's speedwork was downright pleasant! Difficult as always, but I felt good as I was heaving!

This past weekend included the July 4 holiday. I usually do the North Canton YMCA 5-miler because it's part of the Subway/Ohio Challenge series. Because of this, I generally miss out on the Medina Twin Sizzler 5K/10K. This year, since the 4th was on a Sunday, they held the North Canton Run on Monday even though the Medina races were still on Sunday. Of course this meant that I was able to do all of the above. How did this come out to 3.5 races? Read on..

The only other time I did the Twin Sizzler, I ran slow in the initial 5k, hoping to do a fast time in the 10k. I wound up with very slow times in each of them. My strategy for 2010? Go for it in the 5k, and just try to hold on during the 10k. When the 5k began, it was still early, and the heat hadn't really set in yet. I did go for it, and I finished with a 20:01 - about as fast as I've done in the last couple years - I did a 20:01 last fall as well. I had some time so I ran a couple miles with my friends in between the two races. By the time the 10k got going it was sizzling hot - well into the 80s. A seven minute per mile pace would've been nice, but I couldn't even manage that. I did 44:30 - not the greatest - but at least it was a fairly steady pace on a tough course in tough conditions. I won the geezer age division in both races. It was great to see all my MCRR friends out there!

The next morning I found myself driving to a race with Ladd once again. We picked Matt up and drove out to North Canton. I'd been telling the guys that I always do the 2-mile as a warmup for the 5, and Ladd and I did this once again. I joked that the second mile of the 2-mile is always my best mile of the day, beating any of my miles for the 5-mile actual race. We started the 2-mile several minutes late because of a long restroom line. After a few minutes we began to catch the slower runners. After about 9 1/2 minutes we hit the 1-mile mark. A few minutes later we started to think about the start of the 5-mile. I don't know why, but I had it in my head that we had gobs of time. Turned out that we had five minutes. Given that the distance to the finish was about 3/4 mile, we were in for some speedwork.

"On your mark, get set, boom." Ladd and I had just sprinted 3/4 mile, and were about to get into the line when we heard those words. Totally spent from my speedwork, I tried to get going at a steady pace. I suppose I did so. Too bad that steady pace was, once again, so darn slow. Once again I couldn't even manage seven minute miles after that 1/2 race. The heat and humidity were unbelievable. I finished in just under 36 minutes.

So there are a few isolated flashes of brilliance among some very slow racing. A little more consistency would be nice, but for now I'll take what I can get.

Felt Like I Was Gonna Puke

2010-06-23T16:47:00.000-07:00

You know the feeling. You haven't done serious speedwork for a while. You've raced some, but mostly at longer distances. Then you try to introduce some speed into the equation. Add in the fact that this is during a period of time where the heat and humidity is really starting to settle in.

The Tuesday speed sessions at the track have seemed grueling, especially in the heat. Then there was that hot 10K I did with Ladd a week and a half ago. I really did feel like puking at that one.

This week started even a bigger push. After some fairly slow running during our trip to the Finger Lakes, I did mile intervals on my own Monday, followed by a tempo run Tuesday morning, followed by another tempo run Tuesday night as part of the weekly speedwork. I took today off, and tomorrow should be fairly easy running Chuck and Lillian's farewell run and party. Then comes more races: Wadsworth Friday night and Green Saturday morning.

I've also registered for the Twin Sizzler 5K AND 10K on the fourth, followed by North Canton on the fifth.

So many opportunities to run poorly! Or at least until I feel like...

Another Dam 50K Run

2010-06-06T10:06:00.001-07:00

It's something like mile 6 of the first loop, and I'm dying. Ladd had set out at a very fast, it seemed to me, pace, and I simply couldn't keep up. I'd been soaked with sweat from the high humidity since mile two, and now we were running through another section of wall-to-wall, thick, deep mud. Between huffs and puffs, I try to tell Ladd to go ahead and leave me. He stubbornly eases up a bit so that I can (barely) continue to keep up, replying that he won't leave me.

Soon we finish the first of four 7.9 mile loops in 68 minutes, and have a breather at the start/finish aid station. Once again I implore Ladd: "Go on without me. I'm just having a bad day today, and simply can't keep this pace up. Don't know if I can finish at all." He continues to insist that we can run together, even if it's slow.

After hanging around a minute or two longer than we should have, we start the second loop. I start very slowly, but within a mile or so, I'm feeling and running much better. Maybe it had something to do with the energy gel, caffeine, electrolytes or gatorade. By the time we reach the middle part of the second loop, I'm running as fast as ever, and feeling just fine. Now Ladd is having to keep up. Even with the slow start, we finish the second loop in 69 minutes.

I'm feeling more and more confident and strong after another couple minutes at the aid station. I start loop three at a fast pace. My theory is that I should go as fast as possible on the parts of the course that are runnable. There are plenty that aren't. Although the mud doesn't seem to get any worse (I'd thought that it would), it certainly isn't getting any better either. The humidity is high, but since there is no sun, it never feels too very hot. Although there have been a couple raindrops, the rain seems to be holding off. The best part is that I'm feeling and running so well. I wish I could understand why and how I could feel so lousy one minute, and so together the next. It's fun to see the other runners, especially Marsha and Charles at a couple points. Ladd is still having a slight amount of difficulty keeping up, but he's still in there with me. It seems best if I stay in the lead however.

The time for loop three is 70 minutes. Once again we spend another couple minutes getting ourselves together before starting loop four. Now we're both starting to feel the accumulated miles in our legs. We slow it down just a bit. All we need to do is get through this one. We pass by the main aid station the first time and see Marsha! Ladd gives her a big smooch and we continue on our journey. Now the hills and mud are getting tougher for me. Ladd takes the lead for the first time in a while. I try mightily to keep up. With about three miles to go, Ladd begins to pull away. I reach the aid station again, and Ladd had already left. That's ok; there are only two miles to go now.

I run slower and slower. I'd come close to falling in the mud about three times, and I'm not going to let it happen now. A time of 4:50, my time at Green Jewel this year, and the time that I think is my best, has been out of the question for a while now. At this point I can beat 5 hours if I just continue running. I do. My finishing time is 4:56.

That last loop was by far the slowest: 1:19. Ladd had finished a minute ahead of me. We ask if I'm the first Grand Master and are told that I am. It turned out later that I wasn't. This isn't too big a deal; there are no prizes or anything. Marsha finishes in a very good time, and was smiling the whole way. Charles had a very rough patch on his third loop, but did well to finish.

Ultrarunners like to play a little joke on their uninitiated "normal" running friends. "Ultras are much easier than marathons," they say. "You run at a much slower pace, and the runs are usually on soft trails that are easy on your body." The they go off and laugh their heads off every time someone naively believes them.

The ride back from Dayton is an uncomfortable one. The four of us talk about the run the whole time. It had been Marsha and Charles' first ultra, and they are justifiably proud. Ladd had also run his best time. And I'm pretty happy myself. I'm mostly happy that it's over!

For My Next Trick...

2010-06-02T13:55:00.000-07:00

It's Another Dam 50K. I entered at the last moment after a severe bout of peer pressure from Ladd. Marsha and Charles are also going. The reasons for my procrastination are many, but two of the bigger ones are: a) I've had a heckofa time recovering after the Emerald Necklace 100K, and b) It's kind've dumb to run a 50K when I'm trying so hard to get faster for these shorter races. But I've never been accused of being the sharpest tack in the box.

The recovery has indeed been slow. I don't know why this surprised me - it was, after all, a very long way. And that run came only a week after the Cleveland Marathon. After a perfectly awful week, I celebrated Memorial Day weekend with an extremely slow 10K in Wooster on Saturday, followed by 22 Hilly Hinckley miles on Sunday, and 15 Towpath Miles on Monday. Through it all, I was finally beginning to feel like a runner again. Tuesday and Wednesday of this week were at least as good. I finally had a decent speedwork session with 6 x 800 on Tuesday, and did my 12-mile run to and around North park today.

Now I've got to settle myself down for this here 50K. I'm duly scared.

Why I Do This

2010-05-25T07:38:00.000-07:00

The other night the Medina County Road Runners honored me with an award for completing my 100th race of marathon length or longer. It was a very nice event, and very special to me; much more than I thought it would be.

After Lisa gave me the award, I mentioned that for me, setting a tough goal for myself and actually achieving that in something so tough as a marathon happened very infrequently, but that that small percentage of cases made it all worthwhile. I realized last night that there is something else that's least as important: having friends and 'running family' like everyone in the MCRR, along with Dave and Debbie who also showed up. In fact, they make it all worthwhile more than anything!

Bugs, Sweat and Fears: the Journey of Gnatty Dan (at the Emerald Necklace 100K)

2010-05-23T04:03:00.000-07:00

I was the Emerald Necklace 100K organizer and race director, so I'd sure as heck better finish the darn thing. But it was pretty tough out there. The on and off rain wasn't bad, but the humidity and the clouds of bugs were. It turns out that the combination of sweat, rain and bugs is not so nice for the eyes. By the time I finished, I was covered with unhappy gnats.

The first half wasn't too bad. I was joined for much of it by Dave, and even Amy, whom I hadn't seen in months. The second half, heading up to Rocky River, was much tougher. The miles and the humidity were taking their toll.

It was good to see Debbie and Kathy at the Rocky River turnaround. I got my pbj sandwich, turned back, and then it *really* got tough. The clouds of gnats didn't help. I was slowing down further and further, wondering if I'd have to walk, when something wonderful happened: Ladd showed up.

He parked his scooter and ran the final 9.5 slow miles with me. They were really, really slow, but they would've been much slower still, had I not had the company.

I finished in 10:47. This is in between my two other 100K times of 10:25 and 10:59. I'm now pretty sore and beat up. My next run is going to be a painful one.

Number 100

2010-05-17T10:37:00.000-07:00

There was some amount of fear and trepidation (can there be one without the other?) as I lined up for the Cleveland Marathon. Twenty-six miles is a long way no matter how you slice it. I enjoyed seeing the sights of my home town. I enjoyed the crowds cheering me on, and the perfect marathon weather. I responded by running better than expected for much of the race. At eighteen miles I felt so good that I picked up the pace even more. At twenty-two miles, I was almost completely shot. I hobbled in with a time of 3:04 and they placed me in the medical tent. My wife, Debbie found me there. I said, not for the last time, “Never again”.

The date was May 14, 1978. It was the first Revco Cleveland Marathon, and it was also my very first marathon. Here I am coming in, just before they took me into the medical tent.

On May 16, 2010, I lined up for the Cleveland Marathon. It’s now sponsored by a different pharmacy, and the course has changed completely. I wasn’t quite as fearful as that other time, but I still had a few butterflies. Twenty-six miles is still a long way. I enjoyed the sights of my home town and the magnificent marathon weather. I saw, and ran with, some friends, including Ladd, whom I ran with for most of the way. We sauntered past the RR HOF, GL Science Center, Browns Stadium, across the Hope Bridge, through the Tremont, Ohio City, and Edgewater neighborhoods before going by Edgewater Park. We returned on the Shoreway, coming back into the Warehouse district. This was just the first half. We then ran east along the lake and into the wind for much of the second half. It was a relief to turn out of the wind and into beautiful Rockefeller Park. I thoroughly enjoyed the different ethnic gardens. We emerged from the park and onto St. Clair Avenue at mile 21. At this point Ladd was hurting a bit and needed to ease up on the pace. He told me to go ahead and I did. I only hoped that he’d make it, perhaps with the help of some pacing friends. Although it felt like I was picking up the pace, in fact I was only maintaining it. But this was fine. Overall, I ran better than expected with a good solid pace, even in the last few tough miles.

I finished with a time of 3:13 and change. It was my best marathon time in a few years. At this point it appears that this may be good enough for second in my age group. I saw many more of my friends after the race, including training partners Debbie Scheel and Dave Gajewski. Ladd accomplished his goal. Of course we all congratulated one another. I must say that these races are more fun now than ever. I also must say that I absolutely love the Cleveland Marathon. For some reason, many local runners don’t share my views. It would be nice if they did, but I can’t seem to change their minds. That’s Ok.

In between that first one and this last one, there have been exactly ninety-eight other races of marathon length or longer. It’s strange that I have several friends who have probably run this many or more, but who have not bothered to keep track of them. That’s fine, but I’m happy that I have managed to keep track of all of mine. This observation makes any celebration and congratulatory remarks do seem a bit surreal however. I’ll take all the praise and congratulations anyway, thank you.

Here is the list. To be exact, there have been 87 marathons and 13 ultramarathons.
Marathons:

Number Marathons I've Run Date Age Time
1 Revco Cleveland 5/14/1978 25 3:04
2 Athens 4/5/1981 27 3:21
3 Athens 4/10/1983 29 3:23
4 Detroit Free Press 10/16/1987 34 3:16
5 Sy Mah 3/27/1988 34 3:12
6 Chicago 10/30/1988 35 3:33
7 Sy Mah 3/19/1989 35 3:10
8 Revco Cleveland 5/21/1989 36 2:59
9 Scotty Hanton 9/2/1989 36 3:25
10 Detroit Free Press 10/15/1989 36 3:01
11 Boston 4/16/1990 36 3:19
12 Revco Cleveland 5/19/1991 38 3:16
13 Scotty Hanton 8/31/1991 38 3:29
14 Detroit Free Press 10/20/1991 38 3:05
15 New York 11/3/1991 38 3:27
16 Glass City 4/12/1992 38 3:29
17 Revco Cleveland 5/17/1992 39 3:23
18 Scotty Hanton 9/5/1992 39 2:59
19 Detroit Free Press 10/18/1992 39 3:03
20 Boston 4/19/1993 39 3:50
21 Ohio/Michigan 7/11/1993 40 3:24
22 Scotty Hanton 9/4/1993 40 3:01
23 Detroit Free Press 10/17/1993 40 3:01
24 Ohio/Michigan 7/10/1994 41 2:58
25 Scotty Hanton 9/4/1994 41 3:23
26 Boston 4/17/1995 41 3:04
27 Scotty Hanton 9/3/1995 42 2:59
28 Detroit Free Press 10/15/1995 42 2:59
29 Boston 4/15/1996 42 3:16
30 Ohio/Michigan 7/14/1996 43 2:58
31 Scotty Hanton 9/2/1996 43 3:21
32 Toe to Tow 10/13/1996 43 2:59
33 Detroit Free Press 10/20/1996 43 3:17
34 Boston 4/21/1997 43 3:05
35 Ohio/Michigan 7/13/1997 44 3:05
36 Scotty Hanton 8/31/1997 44 3:24
37 Air Force 9/20/1997 44 3:29
38 Detroit Free Press 10/19/1997 44 3:08
39 Scotty Hanton 9/7/1998 45 3:04
40 Chicago 10/11/1998 45 3:05
41 Detroit Free Press 10/18/1998 45 3:22
42 Honolulu 12/13/1998 45 3:14
43 Boston 4/19/1999 45 3:16
44 Bayshore 5/29/1999 46 3:06
45 Scotty Hanton 9/5/1999 46 3:11
46 Detroit Free Press 10/17/1999 46 3:24
47 Austin Motorola 2/20/2000 46 3:12
48 Glass City 4/16/2000 46 3:13
49 CVS Cleveland 4/29/2000 46 3:07
50 Eriesistable 9/10/2000 47 3:38
51 Towpath 10/15/2000 47 3:06
52 Martian Marathon 3/31/2001 47 3:23
53 CVS Cleveland 4/29/2001 47 3:09
54 GCM Cleveland 5/6/2001 48 3:23
55 Towpath 10/13/2001 48 3:19
56 Ocala 2/3/2002 48 3:19
57 CVS Cleveland 4/29/2002 48 3:14
58 Detroit Free Press 10/6/2002 49 3:04
59 Columbus 10/20/2002 49 3:09
60 Boston 4/21/2003 49 3:17
61 Green Bay 5/18/2003 50 3:12
62 Columbus 10/19/2003 50 3:12
63 Ocala 2/1/2004 50 3:20
64 Martian Marathon 3/27/2004 50 3:15
65 Rite Aid Cleveland 4/25/2004 50 3:10
66 Towpath 10/10/2004 51 3:15
67 Detroit Free Press 10/24/2004 51 3:18
68 Boston 4/19/2005 51 3:32
69 Rite Aid Cleveland 5/22/2005 52 3:18
70 Tahoe Triple Day 1 10/6/2005 52 3:42
71 Tahoe Triple Day 2 10/7/2005 52 3:49
72 Tahoe Triple Day 3 10/8/2005 52 3:58
73 Huntington Marathon 11/13/2005 52 3:12
74 Boston 4/17/2006 52 3:09
75 Columbus 10/15/2006 53 3:18
76 Rite Aid Cleveland 5/21/2007 54 3:22
77 Chicago 10/7/2007 54 3:35
78 Inland Trail 11/4/2007 54 3:14
79 Prague International 5/11/2008 55 3:28
80 Erie 9/14/2008 55 3:28
81 Towpath 10/12/2008 55 3:21
82 Inland Trail 11/2/2008 55 3:17
83 Rite Aid Cleveland 5/17/2009 56 3:35
84 Towpath 10/11/2009 56 3:25
85 Inland Trail 11/1/2009 56 3:20
86 Boston 4/19/2010 56 3:17
87 Rite Aid Cleveland 5/16/2010 57 3:13

Ultramarathons:
Number Ultras I've Run Date Time
1 Olander Park 24 hour (51) 1992 39 51 miles
2 MI Fat Ass 50 (50K) 1995 42 5 hours
3 Roadkill 6 hour (28) 1996 43 28 miles
4 Roadkill 6 hour (32) 1997 44 32 miles
5 Mohican 100 2001 48 26.5 hours
6 Chicago Lakeshore 50 2002 49 8.5 hours
7 Buckeye Trail 50K 2004 50 6.5 hours
8 JFK 50 2007 54 8.5 hours
9 Green Jewel 100K 5/3/2008 55 10.5 hours
10 Green Lakes Endurance 100K 8/30/2009 56 11 hours
11 Run with Scissors 27.5 Mi 10/25/2009 56 5:35
12 Freedom Park 24-Hour 12/31/2009 56 93.66miles
13 Green Jewel 50K 3/6/2010 56 4:50

Concrete and Strip-malls and Four-lanes, Oh My

2010-05-13T13:05:00.000-07:00

Run 1
I step out of the Fairfield for my not-so-early morning run. I go past the Home Depot, past the Best Buy, past the Cracker Barrel. I run alongside the Walmart, the Toys R Us, the Sams Club, the Fazoli’s. By the Red Lobster, the Applebees, the Menards, the Office Max, the Golden Corral. I turn onto the main road before hitting the Kohl’s and the Hobby Lobby. Next thing I know, I’m out on the busy four-lane highway. You’d think that with all this concrete, they could’ve found some for making a few sidewalks.

This could be Anywhere, USA. In fact, it’s Council Bluffs, Iowa, just across the Missouri from Omaha, Nebraska. I’m taking it fairly easy this week, trying to take my own tapering advice. The older and probably wiser tapering advice, that is. The tapering advice that says you should actually do a taper. The Cleveland Marathon, you see, is looming.

Interlude: More on (or moron) Tapering
As part of my tapering regimen, I only ran 81 miles last week. This is true, but it’s also a tiny bit misleading – most of those miles were accumulated during the previous Sunday’s 28 and Tuesday’s 24. The rest of the week was easier. Except, that is, for the Friday night 5k in Medina, where I saw all my friends and ran 20:40, which was about as expected. And also except for Saturday’s 14-mile run on the towpath with Debbie, Dave, Brad, Dan and a couple others. 14 miles wouldn’t have been so bad, unless you race them like Dave and I did.

After all that, and after a nice Saturday night dinner with Rita and George, I was determined to take it easier on Sunday. And I did, a little. I ran the big Hinckley loop once with Debbie, and then only most of the way with the rest of the bunch, winding up with 17. That’s a little better than 28. I also wanted to get finished in time to pick Mom up, take her to Mother’s Day Brunch at Thyme with Debbie, Carol and Dave, and then get to the airport for my flight.

Run 1 Continued
So today would be an easy run. It’s just too bad that the environment doesn’t favor running. After a mile or so, the four-lane changes to two-lane, and then dead-ends at a lake. I’d seen this on a map, so I wasn’t totally clueless about where I was headed. I start going clockwise around the lake and manage another mile or so before realizing that I’d better head back. I do some pick-ups along the way.

I’m calling this run a seven miler. As the week goes on, I’ll get some other runs in, where for some I’ll actually make it all the way around the lake.

Run 2
This time I’m gonna make it around the lake or die tryin. Gmap Pedometer told me it’s only about 4.7 miles around, so with the mile to and from the lake I should get a bit short of 8 miles in. I really want to get well over 10 miles in, so maybe I’ll take a detour or two – maybe even over to the Missouri River.

Heading out of the hotel an hour earlier, I ought to have plenty of time for this longish-run-to-be. Foul weather is predicted for today, but it’s dry so far. About three minutes into the run I feel the first raindrops. At least it’s not raining too hard. I hate a cold drenching rain. Six minutes or so into the run it’s pouring. At least there’s no lightning. I hate running in thunderstorms. Nine minutes into the run I’m ducking for cover. I’d seen a few distant flashes of lightning, but now it seemed to be all around me. I hesitate to say that at least it’s not hailing or tornadoing.

Turning back isn’t an option. I need to get this run in, dang it. Maybe it’ll subside. I keep running around the lake. The rain and lightning isn’t subsiding. I feel like I’m sprinting through this storm, but now that I know the distances, I calculate that I’m only doing eight and a half minute miles.

I manage to get around the lake and back to the hotel. I’m freezing from the cold downpour and still ducking from the lightning. I’m not gonna get ten in (it’s barely eight), but that will have to do. At least I made it around the lake.

Run 3
This time I have enough time to run a decent amount of mileage. And this time there doesn’t appear to be any kind of storm looming. So I head south toward Lake Manawa once again. I huff and puff and go as fast as I can to the south end of the lake, which I know is 4 miles. 32 minutes and change; felt like faster. Instead of continuing the lake circuit, I turn south and run a short distance to the Missouri River. I’d had thoughts of running along it for a short, or possibly long while. There are some trails, but they appear to be muddy from last yesterday’s deluge.

I head back toward the road, but before I reach it I take a paved bike trail that goes on through the woods to the west. That trail goes on and on and on. I believe I had been on it for well over 4 miles before I hit a road crossing.

I take the road back east, taking one more detour towards the lake. By the time I get back to the hotel, I’ve got enough time in to call it 12 miles. Not bad.

If/when I return, I certainly have many more trails, both asphalt and dirt, to explore in these parts. Western Iowa ain’t all concrete, and therefore is not so bad after all.

A Little Too Long? The Tale of Two Twenties

2010-05-03T14:16:00.000-07:00

I mean 20-plus-ers. In fact, these 27 milers are killing me. Actually, last week's wasn't so bad, but this week's was a bit tough. The difference? Last week's long run was after a day of rest; this week's was the day after the Hudson Race for the Parks 15K.

Last week's run began with 3 loops around Hinckley Lake. Then I did two of the big 9+ mile loops with everyone else. It went swimmingly well. On Tuesday I hit the track and did Yasso's - 10 x 800 in about 3:15 or so. Now *that* was a tough workout. Of course there were a few other runs during the week, but I thought I was fairly well rested going into the 15K.

On the other hand, I suppose maybe the long run and the speedwork were still in my old legs. Whatever the excuse, the 15K did not go well. The first 3 were mostly uphill, but I held a decent enough pace, all things considering. The next 3 miles were on mostly uphill trails through a nice park. I didn't mind slowing down some, but was surprised by how much. The last three miles were back on the roads, and they were mostly uphill (see the trend here?). I thought I'd pick the pace back up, but despite my most fervent efforts, could only manage 7 minute miles. I finished in 65 minutes and change. Pretty darn bad indeed.

The funny thing is that I didn't feel all that horrible for Sunday's run. I did all three big Hinckley loops this time, and at least they were fairly consistent. Not particularly fast, just consistent.

That will be my last really long run before Cleveland. Or will it?

My Final Boston Marathon

2010-04-20T12:41:00.000-07:00

It's a hassle. It's costly. It's painful and difficult. It's also spectacular, exciting and exhilarating; an experience like no other on the planet. Now that I've done ten Boston Marathons, I don't feel the need to put myself through this cost vs benefit analysis any further. It's truly wonderful to enjoy the Boston experience with friends- old ones like Dave G., and newer ones who were also first-timers, like Dan, Debbie F., and Debbie S. I must say that I got a lot of satisfaction from helping some of those folks get there and get around. Would I be pretentious if I called myself the coach/tour guide of the group?

Debbie Scheel and I more or less traveled to Beantown together. She was nervous about leaving her family and traveling so far to run this little race. I did my best to help reassure her. We met up with Debbie Fernandez and some other runners. Just getting settled in was tiring. I arranged a Saturday night dinner for about 13 of us, and that turned out very nice. I had the chance to talk quite a bit with J.B. and Matt Young. Dave Gajewski came in later that night.

Dave and I ran along the Charles River Sunday morning, meeting Debbie and Debbie along the way. After running across a bridge, we somehow made an unplanned appearance on Boylston Street and checked out the finish line. Then we found Dan, Heather and Bailey DeRosha as Heather was about to run the 5k race. After watching the start of the huge 5K race, we indulged Dave. Poor guy has a terrible addiction to Dunkin Donuts.

It would have made too much sense to walk right back to the expo after Dunk's, but alas. We didn't have our ID's and pickup cards. So we had to take the T to the hotel and come back once again. A failure to plan is a plan to fail.

The expo was as crazy as ever, except more so. Expecting to go to the official pasta dinner, I ate every sample I could whilst wandering around the expo. Most of those samples are pretty darn weird, so I probably should have been more careful. But then I've never been accused of being the sharpest pencil in the box, especially when free food is concerned. Of course everyone else was a bit wiser concerning taking in all the strange foodstuffs, but then wound up hungry afterwards. So we went through the rain over to Quincy Market to check out Cheers, meet up with the DeRosha's and get a bite. But then, to my slight disappointment, no one wanted to go to the pasta dinner. Oh well, I've survived bigger disappointments. But I should add that a failure to plan is... I forgot the rest.

Boston Harbor was pretty cool, both literally and figuratively. Even though we knew we were spending too much time on our feet, we did walk over there to check it out. Then it was crash time. We put our feet up in a hotel lobby for a couple hours before heading back to Debbie and Debbie's place.

Debbie Scheel had managed to Con Dan into driving in with an entire supermarket's worth of food. So of course Dave and Dan H. were all too happy to help relieve Debbie of some of this burden.

Debbie Fernandez was hurting mightily. She had just re-inflamed a previous lower-leg injury, and had us all worried about her chances at the Marathon. Would she even make it to the start, never mind the finish?

Debbie F. also had some other news. A friend of hers had offered us the use of his brownstone apartment that was only a couple blocks from the finish. She'd only just heard about this and it was too late for anyone to cancel hotel rooms. This apartment, however, was the answer to a conundrum we'd been trying to solve: how and where to pick up our belongings and clean up after the race whilst getting to the airport on time.

At about 5:45am, after Dave got his morning oatmeal, he, Dan and I nabbed a taxi to take us first to Debbie and Debbie's place to drop off our stuff. They would then take it, along with their own stuff to the brownstone when the gentleman picked them up. They had a later start and therefore later buses, so that's why they traveled separately. Then the taxi took us to the bus loading area near Boston Commons.

Twenty-Six miles is a long way to run. It's also a long way to drive in a school bus. As usual, it took us over an hour to get to Hopkinton, but seemed like much longer. At least no fellow runners were drinking pickle juice this time.

Then it was the wait at the Athlete's Village in Hopkinton. Come to think of it, I think it would be best to just summarize all the waiting on Monday Marathon Morning:

wait for Dave to finish oatmeal
wait for taxi
wait for taxi to arrive at Boston Common
wait for bus to the start
wait for the bus to arrive at Hopkinton
wait in the porta-john line at Athlete's Village
wait for a pre-race massage
wait in another porta-john line at Athlete's Village
wait to be called to walk to the start from Athlete's Village
wait in another porta-john line at the start area
wait in the corral for the starting gun
wait to begin moving after the gun goes off (it took about 4 minutes to arrive at the start)

Oh yes. The race. As always, it was a 26-mile long moving party. The weather was absolutely perfect: holding in the fifties with light breezes that were generally at our backs. It never became a headwind later in the race as in other years. It was partly cloudy at the start, but then became more and more cloudy as the day wore on. So other than all the aforementioned hassles, there would be no excuses.

I tried not to go too crazy on those early downhills; all my mile splits were over 7 minutes, some some were in the low sevens. It doesn't take long for the old body to start hurting in Boston. This time it began to occur between 5 and 10 miles. My brand new Lunarfly shoes were indeed cushioning the blows, but I was still starting to hurt. And the mile splits began to show that, although only by a few seconds.

Wellesley College was as great as ever. "Kiss me, I'm Underage", "Kiss me, I'm a Senior", "Kiss me, I'm from Texas", were just a couple of the signs. I always get a lift from those girls. Just after a brief pit-stop, I passed half-way mark in 1:38 or so. I was still on 7:30 pace, but had been hurting more and more, and still slowing ever so slightly.

But something funny happened after that porta-john stop, and after I took a gel. I started to feel better and I started to run faster again. Not all that much faster - I was mostly just not slowing any further. That, however, is a good thing going into the Newton Hills. Mile 20 to 21, which includes Heartbreak Hill, was the slowest of the bunch at just under 8 minutes. And I was feeling pretty darn good again.

Like the early miles, those from 21 to 26 are mostly downhill. Time to put the hammer down and go for it. The funny thing is, I did. Once again, I didn't speed up a whole lot - the miles were now mostly just a bit better than 7:30 - but it *felt* like I was flying.

I caught up with Dan at about mile 23 or 24. We ran together a bit, but then he told me to go ahead and I did. The finish on Boylston Street was as spectacular and exciting as ever. I sprinted as best I could. My time was 3:17:05. Just after I crossed the line, they announced that Gelindo Bordin had also just finished, so I can say I beat an Olympic Champion. He had won the 1988 Olympic Marathon, and the 1990 Boston Marathon, which was also my first.

Yeah, it was pretty darn exhilarating. Worth all the hassles. But now there was another one: getting stuff, meeting with friends, finding and getting to the brownstone, getting cleaned up, getting to the airport. I managed it all somehow, and flew home with Debbie.

What a great weekend. It was wonderful to be with my friends and it was wonderful to run that great race once again. But now I've had enough of it. I not only don't need the hassle of this huge race anymore, I really don't need the hassle of any mega-race anymore.

Spring Classic Half Marathon and Other Stories

2010-04-12T11:22:00.001-07:00

Bob was ahead of me, and Ladd and Chuck were behind. Would I be able to catch Bob? Would Chuck and Ladd catch me? Such were the Big Questions being asked at Saturday's Spring Classic Half Marathon.

Based on my conviction that tapering is overrated, I ran hard last weekend - doing gobs of hills at Hinckley both Saturday and Sunday. These runs were followed up by 15 Monday, 10, including a tempo run Tuesday morning along with speedwork Tuesday night. Now I did take it easier for the next couple days, and I even took Friday off. I was actually feeling mighty decent as I lined up Saturday morning.

It was cold early on, but as the sun began to heat things up I felt warmer and warmer. I even threw down my arm sleeves, hat and gloves as I went by Dan that first time around. I really like this race because the double out and back allows everyone to see everyone else, as well as to go by the start/finish in the middle of the race. And that's how I knew that Bob wasn't too far ahead and that Ladd and Chuck were not too far behind. I was trying hard to run easy and relaxed, but somehow things were still fairly difficult.

I never caught Bob. Chuck and Ladd never caught me. I stayed at about the same pace for the entire race, despite an attempt at a strong finish. My time was 1:30:50 or thereabouts. This was almost exactly the same time as I had last fall on this course. That time I was second in my age group; this time I was first.

My friends from the Medina County Roadrunners were out in force. It was great to see so many of them do so well. It's what running and racing are all about.

Next up is Boston. After this Saturday race I ran 20 on Sunday at hilly Hinckley. Taking Monday off and then doing speedwork Tuesday. Other than that, it'll be an easy week.

Running in Connecticut

2010-03-27T05:53:00.000-07:00

Barry and Veronica's last place in Norwalk eventually turned out to be not too bad a running location. I never found any real parks, but the hilly neighborhoods were decent. Barry and Veronica recently moved to Trumbull, and we visited for the first time. (Their new big house is quite nice, by the way - I have dubbed it, "Potential".) Now it was time to plot some new running courses.

On Friday I decided to try to get to the high school track. I'd located it in Google maps, but wasn't entirely sure I could remember the route correctly. It was up to Church Hill Rd, then down to Daniel's Farm Rd, then up, up, up to the school area. Once near the schools I became a little disoriented in the cold rain, and, as it turned out, ran right by the stadium and kept going. I found a decent bike trail and wound up doing a couple more miles before I circled back and found the track. It was *open* - what a pleasant surprise. By this time I only had time and energy left for 3 x 1600, but at least I did something of substance. And the best news is that now I know where to find an open (for now) track.

Saturday would be trail day. After some further Googling, I found a trail very close to home. It's called the Housatonic Rails-Trail / Pequannock Valley Greenway. It's a wonderful trail - hard packed crushed limestone with a very pretty creek along the side. And the start was only a very short mile away. The trail head is just off Church Hill Rd. The trail goes on for 3.4 miles to another park. I went on even a bit more from there before heading back. It felt good to pick the pace up for those latter 5.

Considering these runs and a few additional parks and trails that also seem to be nearby, I have to say that this part of Connecticut is outstanding for running. For this reason, and maybe a couple others (like visiting my daughter, son-in-law and grandson-to-be), we'll need to visit more often.

Just one other thing. That makes ninety (that's a nine, followed by a zero) miles for the week. I've done that much before a couple times, but I think those were all weeks that included an ultra of some sort; this week it was simply a lot of training miles. I'll try to ratchet it back down to only 70 to 80 next week. What I really need is quality, but that's another story.

Atonement

2010-03-24T12:55:00.000-07:00

Tuesday is track day. With it being in the evening, for some reason I become intimidated about it - thinking about it all day. Yesterday I was ready... but wound up having to work during the designated track time. And after all that anticipation... What to do? Run longer today (Wednesday), of course.

Longer meant doing 24 on the Lester Rail Trail. That's Atonement with a capital A. I've done the 4 x 6-mile loop many times, but not recently at all. It went slow, but steady. I like to be able to run each 6-mile segment faster than the previous one. I did manage that today, but it was really quite slow.

All those miles on my old legs hasn't helped my speed much just yet. It was another busy weekend. Since we didn't go to Connecticut due to Kathy's surgery (it went fine, by the way), I had no excuse not to run. Along with various friends, I did 16 at hilly Hinckley on Saturday, and then 22 at the same location on Buzzard Sunday. That's a lot of hills and a lot of miles. But it's actually even less than the previous couple weekends.

Maybe these 70 and 80 mile weeks, not to mention all these Hinckley hills, will pay off someday. One can only hope.

A Dangerous Affair

2010-03-15T11:59:00.000-07:00

Of course this is about my efforts towards increasing intensity and volume whilst reducing weight, all at the same time. Any other kind of dangerous affair would be more than dangerous for me. The word, deadly, comes to mind.

After that trip and upper respiratory illness, it's been a long, tough road back, so to speak. Yes, Green Jewel went OK, but I'm sure I could have done better had I been in any kind of shape at all. So of course I'm trying to do everything at once, and therefore none of it very well. OK, I suppose I do have my mileage back up. The 70-mile or thereabouts weeks are back. The last few have been 60, 80 (including the Jewel) and 69. The battle of the bulge is so-so. I have lost a bit, but still have a long way to go before I'm back down to racing weight.

It's the speed that scares me. This is, of course, because it kills. That is to say that it's tough, but also that it is more associated with illness and injury than pure volume. On the other hand, I haven't been doing too much just yet - some 1200's on the treadmill, and one track workout so far. The track workouts, however, are only beginning. We plan to be out there every Tuesday evening, just like last year.

Since the weather's been so much nicer, I've been able to keep off the mill and on the roads. And that's a good thing. And speaking of volume, I got a lot of it over the weekend: 19 on Saturday on the Valley Parkway (which looked much different with no snow than it had the previous week) with an all-Boston training group - Dan, Debbie, Debbie, J.B., Jess, Pat. I finished fast in order to get to the store on time. On Sunday we did the usual Hinckley training group run. This time there were only about six of us, but it went well. I did the big 9+ mile loop, and 4 lake loops that I declared had to be 3.14 miles each in honor of pi day.

Today's attempt at 15 turned into 10 due to general fatigue. The only reason I felt compelled to try 15 was that it's the Ides of March, and you just *have* to do fifteen on the Ides. Hey, wait a minute: I really did do 15 kilometers... and a bit more...

Green Jewel 50k

2010-03-08T11:06:00.000-08:00

It's been two years since my Green Jewel 100k run. I missed last year's event because I was out of town. No such excuse this year. The 100k option was removed after the first year. I can understand some of the reasons why, but I still would've preferred that distance. 50k is just too short. Or so I thought.

I started with Ladd and Chuck, and also ran some early miles with Tim McGinty and Joe Salwan. Nice company, all. Dan DeRosha was our crew, and Suzanne had also come along to run. That start was a cold one - it was in the low 20s. As the sun rose, the temperature did too, eventually reaching 40 or so by the time I finished.

As always, the run takes place primarily on the all-purpose trail through the Cleveland Metroparks. Those parks have to be the best anywhere. Their beauty on this cold day, with snow piled everywhere except the path and the roads, was unsurpassed. In fact, there were a few places where there was snow and ice on the trail, but that didn't slow us down much.

After about 12 to 15 miles, I got ahead of the other guys, and would wind up running the rest alone. The wonderful aid stations were about 5 miles apart, but even so, it was great to have Dan as our crew. I was able to take my weird Vitargo mixture, and it certainly didn't hurt.

I ran a fairly steady 9-minute or so pace. I tried to not waste too much time at the aid stations, but there was indeed some time lost there. I believe I passed the marathon distance at something on the order of four hours. Just a little while later I crossed Broadview Road, and I knew it was all downhill from there. I did my best to pick it up and finish strong. As it turned out, I did pick it up a bit, with those last five miles faster than 9 minute pace. In the process, I passed some other runners, and no one passed me. Except for Chuck. He had picked it up even more, and passed me with about 3 to go.

I finished in 4 hours, 50 minutes. That isn't too bad, but two years ago I think I came through this point in about the same time, and went on to run another 50k!!! Such a thing simply wouldn't have been very possible Saturday. I was something like 19th, which means that 18 or so people were faster on this day. Oh well - I'm still happy with it.

For some odd reason, I was able to get up again on Sunday morning and do the Sunday Hinckley run thing. It was a slow one, but sometimes I amaze myself.

Hit the Ground Running

2010-02-27T11:01:00.001-08:00

That was the thought as I returned home from Egypt. As I'd expected, the running there was not what I was used to in terms of running volume or quality. I was OK with this; I'd been due for an easy week or two. But now it was time to get serious once again. Time to get back up to 70 miles per week, with some more quality thrown in. That's where I'd been before the trip. Getting back at it shouldn't be a problem.

But it was a problem. Actually, it was several problems. The first morning I ran for an hour and a half and this went OK. The next day was a twenty-miler with Debbie, Debbie, Frank and Dave. We started slow and then tried to pick it up for the second half. Everything went fine for a while, until I crashed and burned big-time at about mile 17. This was tough to take. I did run alright the next day for the usual Sunday Hinckley run, but the damage had been done: the combination of sitting next to a lady with a bad cold on the plane for 8 hours, along with all that tough running landed me a cold too. A really bad one - the worst in years. This curtailed the running for last week such that I could only get 60 in, and most of that was of poor quality on the mill.

Of course there's the weighty issue of body weight. My racing weight last fall was around 157, give or take a pound. That crept up only a little during the holidays, and I was still under 160 for the Freedom Park 24-Hour Run. After this effort I did put on a couple more and was at about 163 when I left for Egypt. And when I returned, after all those buffets and poor running? 166! That's OK, thought I. After running and eating normally for a couple days, it should come right back down, right? It didn't, and a week later, I'm still at that same lofty (or should I say porky) level.

One other problem is the weather. Late February ought to be a time when things are at least beginning to get a little warmer, and maybe even thaw out a bit. But not THIS late February. We've been getting some snow, cold and wind almost every day, with a foot or so coming yesterday. I decided not to meet my friends this morning because I couldn't see risking my life just to drive to a place to run. Not to mention that the running itself would be less than ideal.

All this has kept me on the mill that much more. As I began to climb out of this bad cold I got in a pretty decent 15-miler on Thursday. And then I decided to make today a combination-type of run, and did 6 outside, fighting snow, slush and snowplows, followed by 14 inside, fighting boredom.

Suffice it to say that I've had better running months than February, 2010. I should add a "NOT!" as a suffix to this post's title. Tomorrow I'll be at Hinckley once again to lead the charge. Maybe things will begin to look better for me running-wise, but we shall see. Should be interesting.

There are a few other things happening. I haven't mentioned it in this blog yet, but Debbie and I are going to be grandparents. Veronica and Barry are due in August. This is exciting news, of course.

Brother Dave is having some health problems and is in the hospital at this time. He's had one major operation, and they're watching him for other problems.

Finally, I should mention that I'm writing a book about fixed-time and multi-day running, along with Lynn Newton. We've only just begun, but already it's been an interesting project.

Sunday Addendum: After cancelling the Hinckley run, I managed to get another twenty in today. This time it was nine outside (slower than ever due to still more snow), followed by eleven inside. The inside run was half-way decent this time. I'll take it.

Pyramid Training

2010-02-19T01:41:00.001-08:00

Sounds like a fancy new training technique, no? In this case it’s literal. I knew up front that this would not be a great vacation for my running, but I did manage to get out a couple times. Here are some experiences of running by pyramids and temples, as well as dodging land mines.

It’s six am on a Sunday, and I step out of the hotel figuring that crowded, polluted, traffic-jammed Cairo can’t be quite so bad at this hour. My first couple steps tell me I’m wrong. Besides the surprising traffic, I see crowds of folks out on the streets, many of them yelling greetings to me. I’d prefer to run in quiet(er) solitude, thank you. I go on, anyway.

The Pyramids are barely visible in the early morning gloom. I found it amazing that when I stepped out of the hotel, they were right there! Cairo has sprawled out to their once remote Giza location. Within a mile or so that seemed like forever, I’m even with them. Of course they’re closed at this hour, so I don’t turn in, but keep on going. I sort of want to circumnavigate them, but can’t find the right roads. For safety, I mostly stay on the crumbling, uneven sidewalk, but occasionally am forced down off the one-foot high curbs and onto the busy 14-lane streets. I try hard not to startle the policemen sitting on the street corners with assault rifles.

The Pyramids are more spectacular on the way back as the darkness gives way to light. Just before turning into the hotel I actually find a couple quiet streets that are half-way decent to run on, so I add on another mile or two.

My run in Alexandria would be a simple one: just go along the Corniche, the famous promenade that runs along the Mediterranean Sea for several miles. It’s adjacent to a busy street that has hotels and other buildings on the opposite side. Stepping out of the hotel at 5:18am, I immediately hear an extremely loud call-to-prayer blasting from one of the buildings, and I’m reminded that I’m not in Kansas anymore.

It’s cool and breezy, and the air here is much cleaner than it was in Cairo. I run by dozens of cats, various resorts of all kinds, various people of all kinds, and even a few other runners. After a couple miles I encounter the end of the Corniche. This is due to a construction area, although I thought it continued further on. I turn back anyway. Running back by the hotel and heading east, I encounter another end to the Corniche, this time because of a walled-in park. So unsuccessfully trying to get around the park (and onto busy streets), I go back west once more. This time I do manage to get past the construction, even though this entailed crossing the busy highway. The Corniche does continue on, and on and on. Alexandria, with five-million inhabitants, is smaller than Cairo, but much larger than I’d expected.

Eventually I run out of time and have to head back. It’s getting light, and more people, even more runners, are about. I even have to work hard to catch, and pass, one of them. Many of the kids yell hello to me. This would turn out to be my only decent run for two entire weeks.

This wasn’t for lack of trying. I thought I’d get in a decent run whilst in Marsa Matruh. Also along the Mediterranean, Marsa Matruh is much more remote than Alexandria, although there are some new beach resorts here. We’re staying at a brand-new one. Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of a good place to go for a run. The highway is not so busy as Cairo or Alexandria, but the cars go really fast on it. And there are no other roads here, where the desert meets the sea.

What to do? Run barefoot on the beach, of course. The resort area consists of our huge hotel and a couple others, all completely new and unoccupied except for our small group of 37 westerners. I run on the sand, and as usual with beach running, I encounter some soft spots, and other firmer areas.

After five minutes or so, I reach a fence at the end of the resort area. It’s easy to go around it by running closer to the shore, so I do so and keep going. I bypass a small peninsula of sand that I’d explored on a walk yesterday. The beach is rockier and hillier here. I’m able to step around the rocks. I encounter a large dune and wonder what would be on the other side of this one. That’s when, for some reason, it hits me: land mines could be anywhere around here! Yes, land mines. Whoa.

We’d learned yesterday that millions of land mines had been planted in the area during World War II, and that some are still being found. It just hadn’t occurred to me that I would possibly run into one, so to speak. Encountering one would certainly make this vacation a bummer. I do look over the dune (only to see more rocky beach) and then very carefully retrace my steps back to safety. I find out later on that that was indeed the reason for the fence, and that no one was supposed to go beyond it. There was even a (probably sleeping) guard a bit away from the beach to watch for idiots like me.

After a couple more non-running days, I’m going almost completely crazy. I step off the river-cruise ship in Luxor, and head north along the Corniche here. This one is along the Nile River. I don’t have much time, but within I mile I spot the signs for the great temple of Karnak. I can’t actually get a look because it’s set back a bit, but would explore this fantastic place later on. The worst news is that I’m still not getting much running in. This means I’ll be going even more crazy. Poor Debbie – I’m making her nuts as well. At least I can say I ran by Karnak.

There would be only one other run on this trip. Now back in Cairo, I step out of our airport hotel and find… no place to go! It’s all construction, traffic and air pollution. I do stumble around a bit, but eventually give up and head back.

And that sort of sums it up. We had a great vacation, but as far as running is concerned, for this trip there was no place to go.

For more about our Egypt trip, including some photos, check out our travel blog.

In and Out

2010-02-01T16:53:00.000-08:00

That’s January for you. It was mostly cold and snowy, and it didn’t end too soon. It was tough to stay so cooped up in the house, especially with Mom staying with us. It’s much better when she can get outside to enjoy some sunshine. She is doing so now that she’s back in Florida.

Debbie and I are in and out too, going to some good social gatherings, including the MCRR banquet, and also getting ready for the trip.

And finally, my running has been in and out. In on the treadmill when the weather was just too awful, and out when I could stand it. I did stand it on the weekends when I often hooked up with friends to run Hinckley, the Valley, and other places. It was a decent month for running, with very good mileage. The quality wasn’t the greatest, but at least I did get plenty of hills in.

The first week of February saw even more mill running. That's partly because I felt like I was getting a sinus infection. It may be getting better. I also had to run on the Renaissance Hotel mill because we stayed there for the night after the Cavs gam. My thoughts about that: the Cavs win by making everyone else in the NBA look really awful. My thoughts about the Renaissance Cleveland: the best hotel on the planet, bar none. Of course it helps to get upgraded to a presidential suite.

And now that we’re in February, can March be far behind?

Seventy

2010-01-24T09:03:00.000-08:00

Seventy is yet another number to live by. It's been my target for number of miles to run in a week for some time now. (Other numbers to live by are four, the hour I usually get up for my early morning runs, three, the number of months till Boston, and so on.) In the weeks leading up to the Freedom Park 24-hour Run, I had been doing seventy and more per week fairly consistently. Now in the weeks Since that run, I've still managed to maintain my mileage at that level. I think this is a good thing.

Good?: maybe; great?: we're not there yet. Determined not to fall into complete slug-dom as I did last winter, I've been trying hard to stay consistent. I've got a ways to go before I can say I'm doing a lot of quality stuff, but even in this area, at least I've been doing some hills. That's Hills with a Capital H, as in Heavenly, Hilly Hinckley, and the roads up and around Cuyahoga Valley National Park. The speed hasn't come around yet (and here's hoping that it will someday), and the weight, in the low 160's, is still a few pounds too high.

So the last few weeks I've done semi-long runs with friends on both Saturday and Sunday, followed by slightly shorter runs mid-week. I've usually managed to take two days off per week, and this is a good thing. It's enabled me to be at least a little fresh for the demanding weekend running.

Last weekend it was Debbie, Debbie, Dave and I who ran up and out of the valley to chalk up some big hills. And then I met Dan for 18 plus at Hilly Hinckley. I know: too many Debbies and Dans, but what can I do?

This weekend was even tougher. Dave and I ran with Connie, Bob and Frank at near-tempo pace for a good part of the first seven miles. Then Dave and I did 7-8 more. Today was the first of the Hinckley group runs that Connie and I are organizing for spring marathon and half-marathon training. I did 19 plus, mostly with Debbie and Debbie. To add to the fun: a nice, cold rain. My favorite running conditions. Oh, and did I mention the hills?

The plan is to keep this stuff up for another couple weeks, and then taking it easier for a couple weeks in mid-February. We will see how that all works out. Here's hoping I won't need much de-plumpification anywhere along the line.

I Hear that Train a-Coming

2010-01-10T09:34:00.000-08:00

My normal 11-mile route takes me over some railroad tracks once, and then back over them about a half mile later on a different road. I've never been cut off by a train, but I've had some close calls. Today was one of those close calls; as I was about half-way in between the two crossings, I heard the unmistakable toot-toot of an approaching choo-choo. I picked up the pace the best I could. This was 7 miles into my run, which was preceded by eleven miles on the treadmill. The other limiting factor was the cold: it was about five degrees out, and until that moment, I hadn't been moving very fast. As I crossed the tracks, I couldn't even see the approaching train, so it turned out that I'd had plenty of time. The funny thing was that after that quarter-mile uphill sprint, I actually felt better, not worse. It was still a fairly slow run overall, but now I can at least say that I've done my first speedwork for the year.

Most of last week was not conducive to quality running. Of course I was still recovering from Freedom Park, but I did also want to keep my mileage up. The other problem was the weather: the snow hit us very hard virtually every day. Running wise, that meant lots of mill miles. I only ran outside once mid-week, and then again on Saturday with Dave. I did manage to keep that weekly mileage at seventy. I hope to continue to do that through January, even if it means more mill miles than I'd like; I usually can't wait to get off that dang thing after two days or so in a row.

I sure hope the weather is better for rest of the month.

Freedom Park New Year’s Ultra

2010-01-04T17:29:00.000-08:00

Pain, cold and fatigue. It’s too bad to say so, but for most of the 24 hours at the Freedom Park New Year’s Ultra Run, that pretty well sums it up. This is not to say that there wasn’t some friendship, camaraderie and even some outright joy as well. Let’s start at the beginning.

Strategies

It’s already been well documented how this thing got started: December 1st or thereabouts, Ladd Clifford mentioned to me that we ought to consider this 24-hour run in Morganton, North Carolina. I immediately replied that I’d already thought about it. We decided to seriously consider it, and of course get Dan DeRosha involved. I saw Dan that evening, and then we had a quorum. Within 24 hours of Ladd’s mentioning it, we were beginning to get registered. There only seems to be a bit of disagreement on which way the peer pressure had gone. Mike Keller from Columbus decided to go along with us as we were making our plans.

Speaking of plans, there were plenty to be made. There were logistics, such as hotels before and after, and who would drive. Then there was how to train for a 24-hour race. Ladd and Mike had experience; Dan and I had none to speak of. Finally there was the strategy of how to actually run the dang thing. The logistics went well, as Ladd drove his pickup, and the rest of us piled our considerable amounts of stuff in the back. One problem there was that with the constantly changing forecast, we weren’t sure what kind of weather to prepare for. The training had been written about in my other blog entries, as well as those of Ladd and Dan. Suffice it to say that we took it all quite seriously for that month of December. Now, about that race strategy.

Run 25, walk 5 (minutes), or walk five to ten minutes of each set of three nearly one-mile laps. Or even walk one entire lap for every two run. Strategies galore. Ladd and Mike (the experienced ones) were adamant that we should take those walking breaks early and often; that we should definitely pace ourselves. Would I listen? What do you think?

One other strategy that I had was to take one of my special pre-mixed super-carbo drinks and some electrolyte pills every six laps. I figured that this would work out to getting these nutrients every hour or so.

That First Marathon

After a brief meeting on the wet, slightly snowy grass, about 60 of us were off and running. The 12 and 6 hour runners would begin 12 hours later, at 8pm. Although it was a little cold and wet, with temperatures in the thirties and a ½ inch of snow, it was beginning to look like it wouldn’t be too bad a day, weather-wise. I’d been worried about the possibility of miserable, cold rain. There would be some very slight patches of drizzle and fog as the daytime temperatures of low forties eventually took hold. We ran counter-clockwise on the .98 mile asphalt trail around Freedom Park. I noticed the three hills right away. They were so small that it appeared that I’d be able to ignore them for most of the day. Yeah, sure.

Dan, Ladd and I ran together. Mike was using a slower strategy that included much more walking. The three of us also walked about 5 minutes of every third lap. Every sixth lap I did stop back at Camp Ohio for my carbo solution and electrolytes. Things were going swimmingly well for those early miles. At some point Ladd and Dan began to take additional walking and/or stopping, and I went on alone. Although I did continue taking the walking breaks, I changed my strategy a bit: I’d walk the three little hills every third lap, and that ought to work out the same way, right? By the way, those three pesky little hills were beginning to grow. And grow, and grow.

It’s not that I didn’t want to stay with Dan and Ladd; I knew they were doing the wise thing by taking their time. But by golly, I wanted to at least get up to 100 miles as soon as possible, and then take it fairly easy after that. I did try to force myself to stay with Ladd at times, but then found myself moving ahead again. I never said I was smart about these sorts of things.

As the day progressed, I achieved the marathon distance in a bit over four hours, and felt wonderful. By the time I got fairly well past 40 miles, my longest training run distance, I started to feel terribly lousy. I had been running well, and had even made the leader board by squeezing into fourth and fifth place at times. But now something was wrong. The problem was that I didn’t know what “it” was. I have, however, been there before: every footfall is simply a pain. Every bone in my body just plain hurt. I’ve been here before – at some of my really lousy marathons I’ve felt this same way. But then they were over and done with in three and a half hours or so.

When Math Doesn’t Work

Besides my Ohio friends, I’d been meeting plenty of others, new and old. Some, like Garth, Keith, Rosy, Shannon and Dave, I knew from North Coast. Others I knew by reputation or email. And some I simply met as new friends here in this interesting ultra universe. Some of those mentioned above were running very well. I myself had fallen out of the leader board, and was doing worse and worse as it got dark.

Another thing happened as it got dark: it got cold. I really noticed this when I decided to walk a lap to give my aching bones a slight rest from the hard running. It turned out that the hard walking wasn’t that much better. But what really hit me here was that bone-chilling, damp cold. Time to put on some more layers, and get back to running. That was better. Really.

Now I was still slowing down, but my rate of slowing had slowed. And I was feeling better doing it. Aaah, the inevitable math. I’m not as bad about it as some folks. Ladd (that eternal optimist) in particular stayed enthusiastically upbeat about our chances of doing well. As we progressed, he’d often say things like: “Dan, you did 65 (or whatever it was) miles in the first 12 hours; surely you can do way more than 35 in the last 12.” And yes, this does sound reasonable. But one thing all my years of experience have taught me is that the math never works.

No Longer Vertical

The friendly race organization folks had been doing a great job. They were serving food, but I hadn’t had anything other than some broth. My carbo mixture had been keeping me going. Or was it? After my resurgence from about miles 60 to 72, I was hurting, fatigued and cold once again. Did I mention cold? It was somewhere in the thirties, and there was an eerie fog and mist about. That damp cold may as well have been minus thirties for the way it felt to me.

As midnight approached, a race volunteer cheerily gave me a lei and tried to put a hat on my head. It took every ounce of will that I could muster to keep from saying or doing something mean to this nice person. Needless to say, I was too miserable to join the festivities, and just kept moving. I did hear the celebration and cheering from the other side of the park. Folks outside the park were boom-booming too. I hardly noticed.

What I did notice was that even as the New Year celebration ended, I hardly saw any other runners about. Where did they all go? I also noticed that I could hardly move in a straight line any more. It was time to get warmed up in the heated tent. Rhonda, the RD’s wife, helped me settle into a chair, and some kids got me some more broth. I wound up laying on a cold, uncomfortable metal bench with a couple space blankets from the Twin Cities Marathon wrapped around me. It was looking very much like I would not be able to continue running at all. Although I was far from comfortable, I dozed off for an hour or two.

The Phoenix

Yes, I arose from that near-comatose state. It took quite a while to figure out where the heck I was and how I got there. I was still shivering, and needed some calories, but at least I was awake and alive. In fact, I actually did feel a tiny bit better. I had previously done around 84 laps. With several hours left, I actually began to entertain thoughts about getting outside to do some more. It seemed to take about thirty minutes to go from a laying to a sitting position, and then another hour to get from that sitting position to the course, which was only a few feet away. It was around 4am, and getting close to my usual running time. Except I wasn’t running now. You would be hard-pressed to call it walking. It was taking between 20 and 30 minutes to complete each lap, and in addition, I was stopping for food each time around.

At one stop I put some more layers on. The frozen fog had begun to lift, but I was still cold. Now I started to feel even better. I met up with Ladd, and we walked several laps together. Within the last ninety minutes, we were taking the laps one at a time, figuring that we could quit and call it a day at any time. Finally, with about 20 minutes left, I did. I turned in my chip after completing 95 laps. That works out to 93.66 miles.

More

This is the lessons learnt part of this post. And that’s what I needed: more.

More calories. I thought I was getting plenty with my carbo mix, but I believe that I had developed a deficit as the day wore into night. I should’ve taken more solid food.
More caffeine. I was trying to take this drug of choice in moderation or not at all, but perhaps I overdid the moderation part. I took one 5-hour energy at about 10pm, but by about midnight it had stopped working. I probably needed another one at that point.
More layers. It took a long time to figure out that walking wasn’t generating the heat that I usually get from running. That’s when I should’ve added the layers, but I dithered too much, not adding the layers until morning.
More patience. Ladd didn’t have his best day either, but he certainly knew better about starting out conservatively. I was just too anxious to take the walking breaks seriously. The best 24-hour runners are those that start slow but keep going and going and going.

The Joy is in the Journey

I don't believe that any of us on Team Ohio did ran as far as planned. Not that we were disappointed; it was just tough out there. The top runners, including Shannon and Dave, all ran well, and it was exciting to watch them.

I've said it before, but it bears repeating: the joy is in the journey. I often don’t like training for ultras, just because it seems so tedious. My training for Freedom Park was indeed tedious as well; I ran 387 miles in December, one of my highest monthly totals ever. But I actually enjoyed these miles for some reason. I am not able to explain why.

And then there was the journey down from Ohio to North Carolina. Mike, Ladd and Dan were a great bunch, and a lot of fun to travel with. The trip itself was a real blast.

Thanks to Dan DeRosha and Mike Keller for these photos.

Some Doubts

2009-12-29T13:15:00.000-08:00

After some long runs of 30, 30 and 40 miles, I was feeling pretty good about my chances of running well at the Freedom Park New Year's Eve 24-Hour Run in North Carolina. Inevitably, I'm not so confident as the day approaches. For one thing, as always I ate too much during the Christmas holidays, and I'm feeling sluggish as a result. But the worst thing is the weather. I've been saying right along that I wouldn't mind it being cold, but cold rain, snow or ice would be very bad. And guess what? That's what's in the forecast.

I guess I'll just have to make the best of what nature gives me. I need to relax and not worry so much about my performance. My mantra: don't worry about how far or fast, just run and have fun.

Last Saturday there were a bunch of us MCRR folks down on the towpath, and along with Dave, we did the usual 14 mile route. It wasn't as fast as last time, but it was still pretty good. I did nine on Sunday, including a 4-mile tempo run. And today I did 11 on the mill because there was yucchy snow outside.

Back to the holidays, they were really nice. Iris and Mike and Iris' Mom a couple days prior, Sandy and Nancy's for Christmas Eve, John and Jill's for Christmas day, then Val came in and we partied some more with folks coming over Sunday. Party, party, party. Now I'll party my way down to North Carolina!