A Year and Thirty Hours

The NorthCoast 24-Hour Endurance Run (NC24) has been my baby from the beginning. Not that this particular baby isn't shared. Several people helped me get it off the ground, and many others have helped along the way. But I've always had my hand in it, and it's gotten deeply into my soul. How's that for mixed-up metaphors?

After three years as sole RD, last year I shared the Race Director duties with John Hnat. This was with the understanding that he would take over as solitary RD this year. John decided to step down, however, and Hugh Patton took over. And then, around the June or July time frame, Hugh left the picture too. Now we were left with, once again, me. I suppose that shows that what goes around really does come around sometimes.

If I was going to be RD, I suppose that it was a good thing to take over in July, rather than have it go all year. This way, it may have taken more of my time during the final couple months than it would have otherwise, but it may have been less work overall. At least it only went on for a couple of months, intense though they were.

Another good thing was that our same team of race organizers was in place. These people are simply the best at what they do, and NC24 could not take place without them. I need to tell you all about them now. Here is the gist of a Facebook post I made the other day:

NC24 would is *nothing* without all the fantastic volunteers and the best organization team on the planet. Let me tell you just a bit about the latter (in no particular order):
Roy Heger gets the power generator, rents the truck, handles tents and other big stuff. You will find Roy out there running the race, as usual.
Shannon Miller Fisher puts the shirt order together, procures the food and supplies, and coordinates all of the stuff throughout the event.
Barbara Gibson Clutter coordinates the volunteers, and also helps coordinate registration.
Larry Orwin is coordinating the Friday dinner. He also runs NC24.
Jan Roe helps Shannon with the coordination of food and supplies throughout the event, and also helps with registration.
Scott Stuetzer procured the awards and medals, and also loads and unloads the supplies from the trucks, day and night.
Charles Elkins times the event and also rents the porta-johns and dumpster and buys the water.
Frank Dwyer manages registration and the finances of the event, keeping us in the black. He also runs NC24 every year.
Debbie Horvath helps to direct the Boy Scout troop in the serving of breakfast.
Me? I don't do a darned thing.

So in the final couple months (which was actually a compressed year), our team put together, as always, one heck of a race. On race day itself, several of us arrived at 6:00 AM to prepare for the 9:00 AM start. There was a nice, steady rain, except that at the time we didn't think it was so nice. We got everything unloaded, the tents erected, and everyone checked in as efficiently as possible.

And then they were off. This is where I get the most satisfaction as RD. Seeing it all unfold. Seeing the volunteers working so hard to please the runners and attend to their needs. And mostly seeing miles of smiles on the runners' faces. It all makes everything we've been doing worthwhile.

The rain tapered off, but we were left with strong wind coming off the lake. This is nothing new, but it never makes it easy. For the first time ever, I managed to get out and do two things that I've never done at a previous NC24 event: I took some pictures, and I got a run in. The run didn't come until 10:00 PM Saturday, but it turned out to be just the right time to do it, as things were settling down somewhat.

On Saturday, several runners and crew members spotted some individuals taking runners' belongings. The park rangers apprehended two of the individuals. I don't believe anything that was extremely valuable was lost. This was an unfortunate situation however, and to have anything at all stolen is terrible. We will take some steps to try to prevent this from happening in the future.

Also on Saturday, we were treated to a wonderful sunset over Lake Erie. The day had turned out to be a pretty one, after all.

Sunday morning came soon enough. There were, as always, some tremendous performances, including those by the top men and women, and also by one Leo Lightner, who apparently (it has yet to be ratified) set US and World age group records. What an inspiration!

And then, just like that, it was over. Breakfast was served, we tabulated the results, and presented the awards. Even though we were all tired, this all went as smoothly as possible. The cleanup was also fairly efficient, thanks to the help of the team of organizers and volunteers. When all was said and done, I'd been working on NC24 for thirty hours.

Thirty hours of ups and downs, laughter, inspiration and being on my feet. It was all great, and as Brian Peacock would say, the best part is, it's over.

At the awards             photo by John McCarroll

Random Thoughts During Today's Run

I've done some eighteens, some nineteens, and plenty that were less, but still in the upper teens. I haven't done a twenty, however, since the Cleveland Marathon in May. This from a guy who used to do weekly twenty milers all year around, whether there was an upcoming marathon or ultra, or not. Those long runs went on for the vast majority of my running life.

But when I quit marathoning, there was no need to keep doing runs of twenty miles and longer. So I got a bit lazy. By cutting these down a bit, and by taking at least two days off per week, my weekly mileage is also now lower. Not that things aren't okay, they are. Witness my last post where I talk about a pretty good speedwork session.

When there are this many things going on, however, it gets a little tough to get even these 50 weekly miles in. Some of those 'things' include this weekend's NC24. To get up to fifty for the week, I set out to do twenty today.

It wasn't pretty. I thought a lot about bonking, which I did early on during the initial 16. I used to love that course. It's on country roads, and it's fairly serene. Just me and the road. I suppose I bonked because I ignored one critical success factor for long runs: get adequate nutrition and hydration from the start. Back in the old days, I didn't need no stinkin'  nutrition and hydration. But now I do.

My early 8:40's somehow morphed into 9:20's, and I finished the 16 with positive splits. Now I needed to do 4 more. In the old days, I'd try to make these the fastest of the bunch. And I did manage to do the final five of Saturday's fifteen at sevenish pace.

Not today. I got some water and a gel, and hit the trails at Heritage park. Would you believe 13 minute pace on that hilly, wet grass?

At least now I don't need to worry about another run until post-NC24 Monday.

As Good as it Gets

3:12 for that first Yasso. Not bad, but now I'll want to run the next nine 800's the same way. There's nothing worse than having your first interval (or mile, or whatever) be your best. The idea here is consistency and sustainability. Will I be able to? Last time - I've been doing them at 5:00 AM with friends every other Tuesday - I averaged about 3:15, and 3:13 the time before that. But this time, the weather's as good as it can be. It's in the forties, clear, and the winds are calm. The stars are bright. In fact, I call this as good as it gets.

Although there have been some hot days, including a couple record-breaking mid-nineties days last week, we've had some nice running weather lately as well. Saturday was very nice, and my semi-long 15-miler with Christine and Larry Orwin on the towpath went quite well. Christine and I ran the last 5 at 7:00 to 7:15 pace. Of course, I'm only trying, as always, to roll with the punches.

Today, Jack Reilly and Donna Hoffmeister are my companions on the mostly dark track. We had done the warmup together, but since we run at different speeds, our intervals are mostly by ourselves. My second one is... 3:12 again. This is still good, but I continue to wonder if I can keep it going.

Turns out that I can. I feel absolutely great, and I do keep running consistent times. I even throw in some 3:09's and some 3:07's. My average for the ten 800's winds up at 3:10.

Yup. That's as good as it gets.

Labor Day Weekend Races

There have been a couple times that I ran 3 races in three consecutive days. At least one of those was over a Labor Day Weekend. It almost happened again in 2013, but in the end I decided that two was enough.

Saturday's race was the Celebrate Westlake North Coast Challenge 5-mile. This is another big prize money race, and as with several of my recent races, all the best runners were out there. The heat and humidity were oppressive. I ran a fairly steady (only just) sub-seven minute pace to finish in 34:36. That's almost exactly to the second my time for the Canton Football HOF Festival 5-miler a few weeks ago. This time I won my age group, and I would have actually received some prize money if two 65-69 year-olds hadn't beaten me. I didn't feel so bad about that, however. Those two were Ron Legg and Terry McCluskey.

Just before the start - Larry, Christine, me and Debbie
photo by Larry Orwin

Sunday's race was the South River Winery Run 10K. One thing was similar to the previous day: the heat and humidity. Otherwise it was a different experience altogether, running through all the vineyards. And it was fun too! Too bad that after that previous day's race, and with the tough terrain (I actually 'threw' a shoe that flew out and away from me when I stepped in a hole), I was suffering from slow disease. My time was 49:44, and I won my age group there as well. Not that the competition among the geezers was especially keen this time. I was well behind Chris and Larry Orwin, and I was even beaten by Debbie H., who walked the 5K a few seconds faster than my time for the 10. It was nice to have the wine afterwards.

After the run and some wine - me, Debbie, Larry's friend, Christine, and Larry
photo by Larry Orwin

Although there were options for races on Labor Day itself, I thought it would be too much labor for this tired body. Instead I did 10 easy Medina miles with Debbie Scheel, Michelle Wolff and Shari Geiger.

What in Blue Blazes?

I've just learned that the old phrase "What/where in Blue Blazes..." actually translates to "What/where in hell...". Maybe a little appropriate for one of these runs.

Blue blazes also mark the Buckeye Trail, and they also mark other ones as well. Some of those others are in the Colis P. Huntington State Park in Redding, CT. After reviewing the trail map, it appeared that the Blue Trail was the "main" one, and that following that most of the way around would be an ambitious run. I'd planned to do a longish run of about 15 miles, give or take, and figured that such an endeavor would be good to do on trails such as these.

When I'm running well, it's reasonable to assume that I can run 15 miles in two hours, or possibly a bit longer. Well, I did run for two hours and three minutes, but I only ran nine (9) miles. That's almost unbelievably slow. The problem was those terrible tough trails. There were rocks of all sizes, ruts, roots, twists and turns, hills, you name it. I started slow and simply got slower and slower. Four miles an hour for the first four, then 5 MPH after that.

My second run in Redding was a bit faster. I ran 13 miles in a bit over two hours - just about the same amount of time it took me to do nine miles the day before. Even this run was still not fast by any means. For this run I took the short route over to Joel Barlow High School, ran around the trails through the woods a few times, and then hit the track.

The trails there were more gentle than the ones at the park, so I was doing these at a "speedy" eleven minutes per mile. There was a mile of them, and I did a couple loops as well as some back and forth around the school grounds. I had seven miles done by the time I hit the track. Once there, things got faster: I did five 1200's in (a respectable) just under five minutes each.

That proved to be a good way to top off my Connecticut weekend running.

Hill Yes!

Debbie Scheel wanted to do the Hinckley loop backwards. This threw us all for a loop, so to speak. We nearly always run this hilly, 9.2 mile route around Hinckley Reservation in a clockwise direction, and for good reason: the (substantial) downhill sections are less steep that way. Of course this makes the uphill sections more steep, but that's not so bad. Steep downhills: bad; steep uphills: not quite so bad. But backwards we went. The final mile down Bellus is the most painful downhill part, but somehow we did it.

We'd started at five, and now at six-thirty, it was only beginning to think about getting light out. Debbie and a couple others were done; Will Bertemes and I were set to do another. There were other MCRR runners around, many making snarky remarks about this "marathon training" I am doing. (It's not - really!) The others would be running their own pace, so it was only Will and I doing the loop in the correct direction this time.

And that one went well too. After not doing Hinckley for some time, and especially after not doing two loops at Hinckley for an even longer time, this was a pretty good day.

Do you think I'll ever get back to doing three loops?

Avoiding Meteors, Postscript

The day after I had so successfully avoided any Perseid meteors, I saw one.

On a cool, crisp autumn-like morning, I got to the track at 4:45 AM - before everyone else. Right off the bat, I saw a meteor streak across the sky. Moments later, I noticed that I could spot, for the first time this season, the rise of Orion. It's like the return of an old friend. I know we've still got some warm days coming, but fall is on the way!

This morning was as good for running as it gets. After an unsuccessful attempt at a tempo run, I did get one in when Frank showed up a wee bit later. This was not unlike some of my other attempts at achieving escape velocity.

How to Avoid Meteors

This is really about how to avoid seeing meteors, not how to avoid being hit by them. To accomplish the latter, I strongly suggest cave-dwelling.

No, this is about the former. Let's just, for the sake of argument, say that the Perseid Meteor Shower is going on, and you do not want to see it. Here is what you should do.

1) Begin by running the Perfect 10-Miler, as I did this past Sunday. Run fairly hard, so that you feel beat up afterwards.
2) Follow that up with an MCRR Club Picnic, where you eat way too much barbeque.
3) Try to run on Monday, but only make four miles at slower-than-snail pace.
4) Show up at the track for the usual 5am workout on Tuesday. Attempt the 'Michigan Workout', which consists of several mile intervals along with a 1200, 800 and 400. Don't run any of this stuff extremely fast, because you're still recovering. But do run fast enough to be beat up even more.
5) Hit the track again Tuesday evening for the MCRR track meet. Now run much slower than you should (and slower than mostly everyone else), but still go through the motions of the mile, 100, 400, 5000 and the shot put. Become still more beat up.
6) Tuesday night, set your alarm for 4am in order to get up and run yet again the next morning.
7) When the Wednesday alarm does sound, wander around the house, trying to wake up. Be sure to check Facebook, email, etc. Drink a little tea. Take your good old time.
8) Get out the door at 5:45am, thinking it will still be dark. Notice that the sky is already getting light, and the clouds are fall-like. It's only about 50 degrees here in mid-August. Couldn't be better.
9) Run on the trails at Heritage Farm. Since it's fairly light with the sun rising, don't observe any meteors.

And that's how!

Perfect 10-Miler

This was the tenth anniversary of the Perfect 10-Miler, and I had done all of the previous nine. I drove up to Lyndhurst with Felicia Fago, Angela Demchuck and Patrick Fisher. The weather was about as good as it gets in mid-August - relatively cool, and not humid. With that, and the fast course in mind, my hopes for a good run were reasonably optimistic.

In recent weeks I'd done two five-milers around 35 minutes apiece. I wouldn't be so foolish as to hope for 70 minutes on this day, but if I could keep most of my miles around seven minutes, I'd be happy.

I did, and I was. Most of the first four miles were very close to seven minutes, but I slowed a bit for miles five and six. This was mostly due to the long hill on Belvoir Blvd. Mile seven was screaming fast as always, and the last few were back above (but not my too much) sevens.

I finished in 1:11:29, after splits of about 35:30 and 36. I won my age group. My overall grade: not bad at all.

Angela Demchuck, Joe Jurczyk and me in the middle          Felicia Fago photo

Escape Velocity, or, Today's Two Tremendous Tempo Training Trots

I've been doing my tempo runs on nearly a weekly basis. Lately I've done several at the track. This can be a good thing because: a) There are other runners doing the same thing, so I generally don't have to do these runs alone, and b) The precise measurement makes the pacing a little simpler.

The Runner's World definition of a tempo run makes it sound fairly simple and easy. My own definition is even simpler, but probably not as easy: Three (or possibly more) consecutive miles, each one better than seven minutes. Sure, I also throw in warmup and cooldown miles.

Lately, when I've scheduled a track tempo training trot, I sometimes arrive at the track early enough to attempt an additional one before the rest of the gang arrives. This means getting there at 4:45 am or so, as everyone else shows up at 5:15. I have managed to do several tempo trots in this fashion (both with and without the rest of the gang), but the most recent attempt did not go so well. I couldn't achieve escape velocity, which means I couldn't get the miles under seven minutes each. When Will Bertemes showed up at 5:15 that morning, I gave it another go, and did managed to get to the desired pace.

Today I arrived early once again, and immediately - there was no time for a warmup - started banging out sub-seven minute miles. And I made it - barely. When Will showed up, he and I ran together (again), and I managed (again) to achieve escape velocity once more.

That's the Tale of Today's Two Tremendous Tempo Training Trots.

It Takes a Village

After several weeks in a row where I did a race, it was a bit unusual to encounter a raceless weekend; unusual, but relaxing. I was able to concentrate on simply running longish run on the towpath. I did 14 with Larry Orwin, and then 4 more on my own. That was the furthest I'd gone in a while.

During the run, we discussed Larry's experience at the previous week's Burning River 100-mile run. I had also been talking with other BR100 Warriors. I absolutely love hearing those great stories.

Larry's may be even more poignant than most. He had gotten married to Christine the previous day. His family was visiting from out of town (I met them when they came into the store), and they were able to attend the wedding as well as to help Christine support Larry during the race. The race itself did not go as well as Larry would have liked. Even though he was very well trained, the extreme mud during the race caused some severe foot problems, and that caused him to have to drop out.

What struck me, however, was the team support that he and other runners received. He had Christine as well as those family members to help get him as far as humanly possible on this day. Besides hearing about this from Larry and others, I was able to observe it myself from my position of race volunteer.

For each of the past four or five years, I've done some sort of volunteering at BR100. I am always very impressed at the team support that the runners get. The family and/or friends make it their mission to help their runner keep going. And the runners themselves depend heavily on these folks; they understand how much they need them. You can witness this at many ultra marathons, including the one I'm in charge of: the NorthCoast 24-Hour Endurance Run. It's simply amazing what a team can accomplish.

Pro Football HOF Enshrinement Festival 2 & 5 Mile

Harold, Alan, Patti and me       Harold Dravenstott photo

That's the official name of the race. Good thing I didn't spell out Hall of Fame; we could have had Post Title Overflow.

This would be the second week in a row for a large and prestigious five-miler. This time the race was the Canton Football Hall of Fame Five-Mile. I met up with Patti Tomasello and Harold and Alan Dravonstatt for the ride down to football-land. Like last week, it's a fur piece. Unlike last week, the weather actually did decide to cooperate. As we arrived, we all noticed that it was relatively cool, and, more importantly, not humid.

Like last week, my goal was to keep the miles under seven minutes. This really shouldn't be such a big deal for me; I do my weekly tempo training runs at this pace. As it turned out, the first mile was fine, and the second mile, very downhill-ish, was screaming fast. Even mile three was okay, but mile four was uphill, and it was my first over seven minutes. Could I hold it together for the fifth?

This race is in the Ohio-Subway Challenge Series. Since I used to participate in the series, I was familiar with the race and the competition. It's the same old group of arch-nemisises: Ron Legg, Al King, and, in my very own age group, Don Cassidy, Vince Russo, and Doug Hradek. We all pretty know the general pecking order, and where we each fit in that old food chain. (Like that? Doing my best to mix my metaphors here.)

I thought that Alan and I would run pretty much together, but I didn't see him after the first half-mile. I also didn't see Don after the first half-mile; he was moving fast, and was well up ahead by the first mile mark. I did see Vince for pretty much the entire way. I caught up with him around the McKinley monument - mile three - mumbling 'hey Vince' as I went by. That was about all the conversation I was capable of.

Vinced passed me back a short time later, saying, 'you probably have another thirty miles to run when we're finished.' My brain tried to say something like, 'no, I'm no longer running so many miles.' Unfortunately, this came out of my mouth something like this: 'noarghh!' I noticed, however, that Vince was breathing very heavily as he tried to maintain his slight lead.

Not that I wasn't doing the same thing. But it was good to know that I was making him work. I passed him once more around the four-mile mark. It felt like I was pouring it on for my final mile, but in reality I was only maintaining that seven minute pace. Then came what's known there as 'Heartbreak Hill': a short but very steep hill leading to the finish,

Trying my darndest to stay ahead of Vince, and also to keep my overall time under thirty-five minutes, I somehow managed to (barely) do both. I finished in 34:49 by my watch (34:55 on theirs). That was good for second in the age group, well behind Don, but just ahead of Vince.

This was much hillier than last week's run, but also much less humid. And about 3/4 minute faster. Looks like cooler/less humid wins. Now I will take a week off from racing, before my next big push.

Johnnycake Jog

Here I am prior to the start. Thanks to Chip Jenkins for the photo

As I've been fond of telling anyone who will still listen to me, the very first Cleveland Marathon in 1978 was also my own very first marathon. Similarly, the very first Johnnycake Jog 5-mile in 1977 was my own very first road race.

Back in those days there weren't nearly so many road races as there are today. I remember going in not knowing what to expect. I drove up with my training partner, Paul Coleman, in his conversion van. The reason I remember that little detail is because of the aftermath.

It was a hot one. Ninety-five daggone degrees. And that year they held the race at one o’clock in the afternoon. In the heat of the day. Relentless sun beating down. Mad dogs and Englishmen. Cook an egg on the sidewalk. You know all the sayings.

I wish I could remember my time. I do remember how I nearly collapsed due to that heat. When I came back to Paul's van, my skin was bright red from heat - not sunburn. And it seemed that I just could not cool down. Paul, who felt nearly the same way, opened the cooler in his van and got out some large blocks of ice that we proceeded to rub all over our bodies. Funny how you remember something like that.

Thirty-seven years later, it seemed as though this time would be different; cooler temperatures were in the forecast for Sunday. Too bad they were wrong. It was still hot, sunny, and extremely humid.  I drove that long trip to Painesville with Chip Jenkins. I saw Becky, Mike and several other acquaintances once we got there. I also saw plenty of other top-notch runners as well.

The heat caught up with me soon enough. I'd kind've hoped to keep all my miles under seven minutes. Didn't happen - beginning as soon as mile two. Even so, I thought I might still be able to break 35 minutes as I turned onto Mentor Avenue for the final straight, flat and hot, hot, hot final mile and three quarters into the sun.

Would I be able to pick it up? In the words of grandson Malcolm, nope. I kept loping at the same old just-over-seven-minute pace to finish in 35:38. That turned out to be good for second in the geezer division and one second ahead of third.

Maybe I'll get faster NEXT time.

A Midsummer Morn's Steam

My first thought at 3:55 am is this: I slept well, but not enough. The air conditioning (it's the latest thing) helps. We try to hold off turning the darn thing on as long as we can, but yesterday we gave in, and of course kept it on for the night.

As I start ambling/stumbling around the house, I shut down the A/C and proceed to open windows and doors to let the cool night air in. The only problem is that the night air is not the least bit cool. After all the nice cool weather and rain, Summer has finally arrived. With it comes the warm, humid nights that I'm not very fond of. Not that I'm fond of the humid ninety-degree daytime heat either. But it would be nice if it cooled down at least a little more at night.

The coffee takes longer than I had hoped to have its desired effect. I don't get out the door until - get this - 6:15 am. What did I do for those two hours? I checked email, turned on the tv to check the weather, did some push-ups, fed Rosy the cat and rubbed her belly... all the usual stuff that could be accomplished in 30 minutes if I'd put my mind to it.

But that's the key. With the coffee not working as speedily as I'd like, I have no mind at all.

I'm about 45 minute too late for the country road course that I used to do regularly, and wanted to get back to but haven't been able to because I haven't been getting up and out early enough to get onto the course early enough to beat the traffic on those country roads that I can't stand and is somewhat dangerous so instead I have to do what I've been doing instead for a while now, and that is to run up to North Park and five times around and back to make it a ten-miler. Don't you just love that sentence? I don't know what got into me, but okay, I'll return to English now.

The heat is stifling, and the sun has only begun to rise. The humidity is so high, I'm sweating before I even take my first step onto our street.

I've run my first two miles in seventeen or so minutes - faster than my usual early miles. But it's time to start moving even faster - down to sub-seven pace. Yes, it's tempo time again. I've been just barely making it through these workouts - defined by me as three or more consecutive miles at sub-seven pace. And they don't seem to be getting any easier. The steamy weather doesn't help at all.

I do two miles, the ones leading up to the park, in 13:30. That's pretty good, and I think those miles are fairly accurate. Now I have two miles to do at the park, which consist of five laps around the lake, along with the short trip there and back from the entrance.

I know that I've got to do the first and last laps, which include the there and back parts, in under 3 minutes, and the middle three laps at sub-2:40 each. To summarize, I make it through each lap with no more than a second or two to spare.

I've accomplished my mission - over three miles (actually, four) at sub-seven pace. And now the heat and humility have really gotten to me. I stop to stretch and get a drink of water.

It's really tough to get moving again, but somehow I even do an extra couple miles on my way back, for a thirteen mile morning. Another (barely) successful tempo run. A decent amount of mileage. Probably a record number of buckets of sweat.

After yet another run in the still hotter afternoon, I'm ready for a day off.

When to Back Off

I thought I was finally getting smarter.

The smart people say that you need to back off your hard training when you feel an injury coming on. After all those years of running, I never really figured out how to do this. It seemed as though the injuries would come on suddenly and without warning... and then I was stuck with them. This wasn't all that bad, because I was fortunate enough to spend most of my time injury-free.

But the last couple years were different. Now I was spending most of my time:
a) about to become injured (but I didn't know enough to back off).
b) injured.
c) recovering from injury (but a new one was probably coming on, so go back to a).

I didn't like this. So around the beginning of this year I made a conscious decision to run a bit less, and to try to get a little smarter about this injury thing. I was going to back off when I felt an injury coming on. I wouldn't worry about losing fitness or about my weekly mileage numbers.

It worked. By no longer worrying about training for marathons, my weekly mileage was also no longer a concern. It went from around 70 miles per week - my "standard" for many years - to 50 or less. And as a result (I think), I haven't been injured for over six months. What a relief after those injury-prone years of 2011 and 2012.

Until now. Even though the mileage is down, I've tried to work on the intensity. Every Tuesday is track workout day, and I have also tried to get in one or two tempo runs, or a race, each week. And now I'm experiencing a bit of plantar fasciitis in my right foot.

It's not bad. Maybe if I back off, it will get better faster. Maybe I'll be smart about it. But then there are some races coming up. And I don't want to lose this fitness....

New Stuff

The whole gang - just before the start    thanks to Marsha Clifford for the photo

Those of us who've been around awhile are well aware that the Half-Marathon is the new Marathon. Those who've been around even longer know that 5K is the new 10K. Believe it or not, 10K's used to be one of the more common race distances. Now I'm here to tell you that 21 minutes is the new 20 minutes for a 5K goal.

There was a time - not all that long ago - when two (count them, 2) 5K's in a row at sub 20 minutes were the goal. Even sub 39 minutes for the 10K was doable. As recently as 2006 I was still doing 39 and change. There were some 41's in 2007 and 2008. It looks like the last time I broke 20 minutes in the 5K was at this race (the Medina Twin Sizzler) in 2010. In fact, as far as I can tell, my last sub 21 was that year as well.

Not that I'm obsessed with numbers in general or specifically with race times. I'm much too far gone for any of that. Pilots say that any landing that you walk away from is a good one, so I've been going along those lines with my 'any race that you finish in vertical fashion is a good one'... But dad-gum it if I would really, really like to have a good race once in a while.

Well, it happened. At today's Medina Twin Sizzler 5K, I decided to concentrate on, and only do the 5K. For one thing, I've never done well at the 10K. For another, more important thing however, Veronica and the Grandkids are visiting, and I wanted to get back home relatively early so as to spend time with them. So I figured it's best to not even worry about that second race this time. Recent speedwork and tempo running haven't hurt, and it all turned out as well as could be expected.

It was warm and extremely humid. The Medina square was alive with activity. The whole gang was there. There was, as usual, a good sized bunch of runners at the start. The first mile was down, then up for a 6:44. The second was also hilly, but slower, for a 7:08. The final 1.1 miles - mostly downhill - were 6:55, for a finish time of 20:49 by my watch. That was also good for first in my ancient age group.

Now the question must be asked: can I knock a minute off this time for my next 5K? And then do two in a row for a sub-40 10K?

Nah.

My Edge

When I lived in Michigan, I occasionally ran with a guy in our neighborhood named Terry Elsey. Terry is about my age, and we were already getting a bit long in the tooth at the point in time when we ran together. In his prime however, Terry had been one of the fastest guys anywhere. I learned a few things during our runs. Here are a couple of them:

1) You could pick up discarded Marlboro packages, collect the UPC's, send them in, and receive some pretty neat stuff. Over a couple years, I wound up with backpacks, a roller duffle bag, cargo shorts, and other things that I can't remember. Terry, having more and longer experience with these pickups, got even more stuff. Marlboro stopped the program about ten years ago.

2) It's good to have "an edge". We would do a run through Farmington Hills that I had figured was something on the order of 11.7 miles. "I call it eleven," said Terry. When I told him that he ought to record his running data more accurately, he said, "I convince myself that I'm running slower and fewer miles. That's my edge."

When Terry ran a race, he knew subconsciously that he could run faster than his training log indicated. It must have worked for him; he sure won his share of road races.

My edge for many years has been that I ran a lot of miles. Sure I trained hard as well, but I always thought that when I lined up for a race, I had at least one advantage over my peers: that I (generally) ran more than they did. I was at least somewhat competitive, so it worked, although not as well as Terry's edge worked for him.

Now that I've retired from marathoning, I've cut back on my overall mileage. After years of seventy mile weeks, I'm now doing about forty to fifty. The really good news is that I've now gone about six months without a major injury. It's possible that there's a relationship there, somewhere. But aside from that bit of cheer, I think I may have lost my edge.

The plan had been to get faster at shorter distances by training faster for those fewer miles. I'm working on this. Both last week and this week I managed to get in both an interval workout and a tempo run. This is pretty much the kind of training I'd been planning on and hoping for. So maybe my new edge can be that I run fast nearly all the time.

I like this idea, but it sure didn't work for me at the Towpath Ten-Ten 10K the other day. Maybe I am still a work in progress.

Towpath Ten-Ten Un-Race Report

It's so much easier to write a race report when it goes well. It occurs to me that the same is true for reading said report. At least now you know how this one is going to go.

Expectations get you every time. I used to expect to do under forty minutes for a 10K, and the only question was how much under forty could I go? Not having done too many 10K's in recent years, I wasn't real sure, but based on recent training, as well as fairly recent 5K, 10-mile and marathon races, I thought 43 or so minutes - about seven minutes a mile - was doable.

Not only was it not doable, it wasn't even close. The Towpath Ten-Ten is a 10K and 10-mile race on the paved part of the towpath in Valley View and Cleveland. It's flat, and with the solid surface, ought to be fast. I chose the 10K because I wanted to go especially fast this day. The first mile actually did go okay, time-wise. It was right around seven minutes.

But I was already suffering. The rain had tapered off, but it was now extremely humid. I'd run in humid conditions before, but that thick air was affecting my breathing more than usual this day. And then there were my GI issues, about which I won't elaborate.

I slowed to eight minute pace and that was that. Even holding on to that was a chore. I finished in a little under 49 minutes. I think that's a PW, but I'm too lazy to check. In case you're bad at math, that's six minutes slower - a minute a mile - than I expected, and 10 minutes slower than where I'd like to be.

It appears that those expectations need further adjustment.

The Key to Happiness

The key to happiness, or at least one of them, is to 'live in the moment'. I tried, without luck, to verify this in wikipedia.com, my source for all such useless knowledge. I guess you'll just have to take my word for it. Regardless whether it's an official key or not, from everything I hear, living in the moment is a good thing to do. It's little tough for me however. I'm often troubled by the future, and/or haunted by the past. I know. I sound like a Charles Dickens character.

But today, I'm trying extra hard to make my run an 'in the moment' one.

Never mind that I used to eat intervals like today's for breakfast. Never mind that as recently as last week I managed to get a few really decent runs in. Today, I'm in the moment.

Never mind that as I show up at 5:15 AM along with Alan and Harold Dravenstott and Jeanne Hejny, it's awful darn early. Never mind that it's really tough to get moving, especially to get moving as fast as I'd like. I'm running in the moment. Never mind that the times I'm doing here on the track pale in comparison with those I do on my treadmill. On another day, this might be disappointing. But not today. Today, I'm in the moment.

Never mind that each of the three sets of (1600, 1200, 800) gets significantly slower. I'm running in the moment.

And never mind that although these track times may improve a bit if I keep at them, the very long term prognosis for speed is not a good one. But that's okay.

Because I'm in the moment.

Youngsters in the Mist... and in Our Midst

Here is something I wrote for the MCRR newsletter.

We often celebrate the accomplishments of the top runners in the club. Many of these folks have been around long enough to actually accumulate some accolades. Once in a while, however, we ought to take notice of what some of our younger club members are doing.

Patrick Fisher has been in the club since about the time it started. He was just beginning high school at the time, and already had a passion for running. Many of us have had the pleasure to observe his progress throughout his high school and early college years. Pat’s coaches have had to keep after him, however; he tends to run and race too much! That’s what happens when you have a mom like Shannon and spend time around Roy Heger. Although Pat concentrates on his studies and his college running, he came around in March to win the Buzzard Day 25K race.

Many of us have also been fortunate enough to be able to watch Alan Dravenstott run, almost from the time he got started back in elementary school. It appears to be safe to say that Alan is more responsible for his dad, Harold’s running progress, than the other way around. Like Patrick’s coaches, Harold is trying hard to keep Alan from running too much and hurting himself or burning out. Now in middle school, Alan is running strong, and evidently enjoying every minute of it. So are we.

Debbie and Rob Scheel’s daughters, Emily and Elissa are still in grade school, but are already running extremely well. Debbie and Rob will bring the entire family to a 5K on occasion, and the two girls usually run strong. Like a lot of kids, Emily and Elissa have several interests. They do especially well at skating, but of course their running is still improving as well.

There are many other young folks in the club; sorry to have to stop talking about them here. Watch any of them run; it’s a blast. But beware: their enthusiasm for the sport is highly contagious.