Why I Do This

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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

The Voices and Me

They are nothing if not consistent, those voices. All week they’d been telling me to do a 14-miler on the towpath on Saturday, followed by a really long run of 30 to 40 miles on Sunday. They never wavered. Thus I found myself going a long, long way this morning. But let’s start at the beginning.

The voices can be good (“go for it - you can do it”), or evil (“you’re having a bad day, so you may as well quit right now”). Much of the time, I’m not entirely sure whether they are good or evil. When they say something like, run about 50 miles over a weekend, is that a good thing or a bad thing? Some would probably simply classify it as a stupid thing, and I don’t have a good come-back for that. Except perhaps to say, lookyahere: I’m planning to be running even more than that on New Year’s Eve, and I’ve got to be ready. I do know that I have to do what they say, because I don’t know what would happen otherwise.

The weekend of running began with Saturday’s run. At Station Road Bridge, I met up with Ladd, Debbie, Dan DeRosha and Chuck. We did what is a familiar route for me: south to Lock 29 in Peninsula and back. It’s 14 miles of familiar towpath trail. The inch or so of snow didn’t bother us as we started out slower than nine minute pace, gradually picking it up the whole way. Chuck picked it up even more with about 4 to go, and I went with him because the voices told me to. Our last three miles were all under seven minute pace, something I haven’t managed to do in a couple weeks. Would I be able to recover from this towpath trail tempo trot in order to run long the next day? I felt tired, but otherwise fine. Time would tell.

Good thing I got a nap because Saturday night’s MCRR party at Second Sole went on till 10pm – way past my bedtime. Good time, by the way. Why would my bedtime be so early, you ask? Because the voices are also consistent about telling me to get up extremely early for my runs, and the longer the run the earlier the start has to be. This is another area where the voices work in mysterious ways. My best guess is that they don’t want me to spend the entire day out running.

It was about 3:18am when first the alarm, and then the voices, told me to get out of bed. Even though yesterday’s run on an inch of snow on the towpath wasn’t bad at all, I wasn’t excited about seeing the same thing this morning. Actually the snow is fine; it’s the accompanying ice and slush that I dislike. The voices know that I feel this way, so they told me it was ok to begin my run on the treadmill. Working with the voices, I had refined my plan a bit: I’d do something on the order of six 6-mile segments. Yes, for some reason, 36 total miles sounded about right to both the voices and me. I had been thinking of doing my outdoor 6-mile loop those six times. Now on the mill, I thought I’d take a break every six miles, although I’d still have to figure out how many such segments to do before heading outside. At each break, I’d chug some Vitargo that I’d mixed on Saturday. Vitargo is pure carbohydrate with no sugar that you can supposedly take gallons of without upsetting your stomach. It has to be mixed well, preferably in a blender. Another thing going on was the brand new shoes: Nike Lunar Glides for the mill work, and another pair of Pegasus 25’s for the outside stuff. I’d really liked my previous pair of Pegs.

I fired up the mill at 3:55am, turned on a movie, and quickly got down to 7:30 to 8 minute pace with .5% elevation. I pretty much stuck to that pace and to my plan to break every 6 miles. I found myself staying on the mill longer than I thought I would. In the process, I watched a Val Kilmer movie where he was an assassin with amnesia who was supposed to kill the president, a really silly documentary where Ben Stein compared some professor’s firing to the Berlin Wall. The professor had taught about “Intelligent Design”. We don’t waste our time arguing about the world being flat, or at the center of the universe anymore because these concepts are so totally disproven; to continue their debate would waste everyone’s time. It’s exactly the same with creationism and climate change denial. There is simply no scientific evidence to support the concepts (they’re not even theories), and yet some people want to continue to ‘debate’ them. And everyone’s time is, indeed, wasted. Except mine; I was getting my miles in. I also watched part of a Denzel Washington / Whitney Houston movie, and a bit of Fox News, where they had a "debate" about whether climate change was real.

Before I knew it, I was getting a lot of mill miles in. The most I’d ever done was 24. This day I stepped off the mill at… 24 miles, and then prepared to finally go outside. It was 7:20 or so; I’d done pretty good so far. I think the Vitargo had helped. By the time I’d gotten my clothes over my sweaty body and got outside, over a half-hour had gone by. The other breaks had been much more efficient. I had also put the Pegs on – my feet had begun to take a beating from the Lunar Glides. The Pegs felt better.

As I started out, the voices informed me that it wasn’t a good idea to continue with the plan of doing two more six-mile segments. Since that last break had taken so long, perhaps it would be better to simply stay away from home for the entire final 12 miles. In retrospect, I think the voices were incorrect about this one, but at the time, I did as suggested.

Running through jello. Know the feeling? I knew those first few outside miles were slow, but I didn’t know how slow until I glanced at my watch at mile three: 28 minutes. It occurred to me that it would be a long morning. But then something funny happened: I started running faster. As I did one loop around the high school, and then ran up to and around North Park, the miles got faster and faster. Not blazing fast, mind you, but down close to 8 minute pace. The final four miles home were a little slower again, but still under nine minute pace.

Why did I think the voices were wrong about my ability to take a break and get back on the road? Because I was able to do so, for four more after the twelve. Even the extra four (on my familiar four-mile loop course) were pretty good – about 8:30 per mile. So the entire 16 outside miles were completed in two hours and nineteen and a half minutes. Add this to the 24 mill miles, and you have a pretty good day of running.

Now I think I’m ready for the 24-hour run, if only the weather will be good for us. Let’s hope the voices cooperate.

Donning Our Gay Apparel

Last night was the holiday beer/cheer run with the Medina County Road Runners. Everyone dressed for the occasion, including me. Yes, my apparel was pretty darned gay. But then, so was everyone else’s. I stayed away from the drinks at the couple of bars we visited, but I did partake in the running and caroling. Anyone who saw me would be hard-pressed to agree that I was really sober.

We didn’t run very far last night, but it’s been a good week, mileage-wise. I didn’t run last Saturday because I was flying back from Boston. So Sunday was to be another big day, and it was. Like the previous week, I started early at Hinckley, and was joined at 5am by Dan D. and Ladd (who was new for this week). Also like last week I did nine three+ mile loops and enough extra miles to call it a 30-mile day. But this 30-miler was much slower than that of the previous week: 4:50+ as opposed to 4:30. The reason for the slow running is the cold and freezing rain that was with us for most of the run. The worst part was the slippery footing. Good thing I had those other guys with me because on this day, it would have been really easy to quit and go home early.

Not only did Sunday’s run go slowly, it also beat me up quite a bit. I took Monday off, but managed to run 10-11 on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Some of those runs were pretty darn cold. No stellar performances, but I am getting those miles in.