Course Correction

Been home for less than 24 hours, but that shouldn't be a problem. I haven't been doing much running on dry land for the past month and a half, but that shouldn't be a problem either. I ought to be able to just go and pound out a ten-plus miler with ease. Except it's not quite working out that way.

As my run starts out, I realize that I am so very tired. And this here slow pace reflects that. What's up with this cool weather anyway? And inclines? And concrete? Traffic (even though it's light)? Maybe, I think, I'll just do my six-mile course and see if I can do any more after that. Even this much is becoming a chore.

But then it occurs to me: I wonder whether the new all-purpose trail from Brunswick Lake to Plum Creek is completed? One way to find out: run there. Except it's a long way. Such a course correction would make this run more than six miles; maybe something like eight or more. I decide to go for it.

Over and around Brunswick Lake, I get onto the new trail. It does indeed appear to be nicely completed. I don't think I can make it all the way to Plum Creek, but at least I can explore this new section up to Laurel Road. It's very nice, and I'm zooming right along. Until I encounter the mud. It turns out that there's one 100-yard or so section that's in the middle that's not completed yet.

I slosh through the mud, emerge back onto the paved path, and make my way to Laurel. All-in-all, it was probably less than 3/4 of a mile. But it's fun to explore. I feel (very slightly) rejuvenated for my run back home. 

Not bad for a slow but decent eight-miler.

Running from LA to Singapore (On a Cruise Ship)

The good ship Oceania Regatta is sailing from LA to Singapore, and I am onboard, ready to run. Well, at least the first part of that sentence is true. The Regatta is one of Oceania's smaller ships, also known as 'R' Class Ships. That means 13 laps per mile, or perhaps somewhat fewer if I do the corridors along with the loop. It's still not a good situation. But the treadmill is worse. More on all this later.

The outdoor situation is made worse when there's wind, rain, or waves to get in the way. When it's really bad, they close the deck 10 track entirely. I don't care how cold or wet it seems to be, or that the deck-swabbers and I must do battle each day, leave the dang thing open for me. Please? (Incidentally, sometimes the Captain personally allows me up on the deck 10 track when it was otherwise closed.)

Itin

Speaking of treadmills, on (rare) occasions, I can watch a decent movie to help me get through the otherwise boring run. One such enjoyable and appropriate movie was MacFarland, USA. Another was Zatopek. If only the rest could be that good.

Okay, now some more on the on-deck running. Since there's nothing new about running on one of these boats, I've copied this description from another voyage.  

The fitness center doesn't open until 6:00 A.M., and here it is, five-something. What to do? Run in circles on deck 10, of course. Running in circles, you ask? Isn't that awful, you ask? Maybe. But not always so much. I have options, you see... I can:

a) Run the 13-laps-per-mile recommended route. Yes, that's a lot of turning. But even here, there are options within this option. You see, I can run counter-clockwise (the usual direction, though I'm not sure why) or clockwise. See? All types of variations. I do a mile in each direction, but can only run clockwise when no one else is about. Today, I'm alone up here. Regardless of direction, I can only handle so much of this, so there's option b.

b) When I get tired of all that turning, I can do something else: add the two short aft hallways to the route. When I do this, it's only about 8 laps per mile. Another advantage is that I now (assuming that I'm going the accepted counter-clockwise direction) do two left-hand turns and two right-hand turns, and I don't even upset any fellow walkers or runners. The only disadvantage is having to do 180-degree turns at the end of each hallway. When I get tired of this, I can graduate further to option c.

c) This one only works when no one else is about. I can start in one direction, say clockwise, run one aft hallway, then turn and change direction all the way around the other way, in this case, counter-clockwise. When I get to the end of the other hallway, I turn 180 degrees and reverse direction once again. Now it's only five and a half laps per mile, at least for each complete - going each way - circuit. The advantage here is that I'm constantly changing direction and my turns are completely evened out. Of course, I can only do this when I'm completely alone. 

d) By the time I get a few miles sorted out as described above, it's 6:00, and (Bob's your Uncle) the gym is open. I hate that mill, but it prevents me from running in circles or U-shaped thingies (c). I can only take so much milling around, so I will often revert myself back to option a again. 

I do also manage to get a few runs on dry land. Only a few miles here and there, but it sure is nice to get those in. One such run was in Ketchikan, and another was on Kodiak Island.

Minor encounter with an eagle in Ketchikan

Then, at Dutch Harbor, I got out in Unalaska on Amaknak Island located in Alaska's Aleutian Islands. My route took me up the side of a local mountain where there were some artifacts left over from the U.S. military in World War 2. The hill was both long and steep, and the views were fantastical.

Up the mountain in Unalaska

I manage to get some long runs in. It's tough to run around in circles for 18 or more miles, even when you break that up with some mill miles. Somehow, I do it. But not all runs are gems. Some of the runs in rough waters are really tough. It's mill miles only, but even those are whilst hanging on for dear life.

When we finally arrive in Japan, I get some more on-land running in, starting in small-town Miyako and Oarai. Then we get to big-town Yokohama. Once there, I go out to do a nine-miler (my longest land run) and enjoy the many parks and their bidet-equipped public toilets. And let me tell you, those can be quite welcome!

Yokohama

Besides still more ship running (that's 'ship' with a 'p'), I ran on land in Kobe and (at our our last stop in Japan) Okinawa. That short run in Okinawa was with John Shively, a fellow passenger who's from Lafayette, Indiana.

And that's about it for my running on this old rust bucket. 423.8 miles. Most of it on deck, running in circles or something similar. Some on dreadmills, some on land, and some whilst hiking. 6 18-mile runs, and a whole lot of 10-ish milers. And guess what? I still gained weight. A lot of weight.

For more about the trip in general, see this travel blog post.

(in the voice of Crocodile Dundee): That's not a long run

A long run is 18 miles or more. Less than that, even a tenth of a mile less, does not qualify. Why, you may ask? Why make the threshold 18 and not 17 or 20? Why classify long runs at all? Good questions. Decades ago, back when 20 miles was the minimum for my long runs, I read somewhere that anything approaching 30 kilometers (18.6 miles) takes considerable effort and time, and therefore could be considered long. At that point, I knocked my threshold down a notch from 20 to 18. Don't get me wrong; twenty is still better than eighteen if distance is your goal. But many times eighteen is just fine or at least, good enough. I classify long runs as such because my log allows me to, But more than that, I prepare, pack, and act differently for my long runs. I drink more fluids and eat more carbs the previous day. I pack gels, bodyglide, and other stuff for the run. I also dress differently (or at least more thoughtfully), and at least begin long runs more conservatively whilst being more mindful of nutrition and hydration during the runs. For more long run information, see this post where I republished an article on the subject.

Today's run on Lester Rail Trail (my most frequent long run venue) begins slow and easy. My expected 5:00 AM companions do not show up, so I am running alone until the 6:00 AM crowd arrives. That's okay; I enjoy the cool early morning darkness. After such a hot summer, the chill is quite welcome. The stars are like bright little diamonds shining down on me. I never quite wake up enough to get moving very fast, but only five days after Akron, I don't mind too much. 

The 6:00 throng of runners consists of Shannon Barnes. Slim pickings these days, but I'm very happy to have Shannon's company. Now, the pace improves significantly. That's good; it couldn't have gotten much slower. We talk a lot, and this helps pass the time and the miles. Soon, we're done with another six-mile loop, but we decide to do two more miles, just for the heck of it.

When it's time for Shannon to leave, I decide to call it a day as well. I have 14 miles in, and I'm well aware that 14 is less than 18. That's okay. It's not a long run failure, it's a short run over-achievement.

2024 Akron Marathon Race Report

It's hard! Really hard!! Of course, I'm talking about the 2024 Akron Marathon. What did you think I meant?

Besides that overall hardness, there are hills, humidity, a fair amount of heat, and heavy legs to contend with. Then you need to add a healthy dose of humility to all that. Now, you're getting the picture.

Three weeks ago, I ran the Erie Marathon, and I (somehow) exceeded expectations. I decided to keep expectations low today, given the hills and expected humidity. I would stay with the four-hour pace group much longer this time, and only go faster in the last couple of miles, if possible. Two years ago, I also ran both of these races, and that time, Akron had the better weather and the better race result. Today, I'd settle for a simple 3:59 again,

I managed to stay near the four-hour pace group through half-way (in around 1:58) until the famous hills of Sand Run. That's when those horrendous hills took their toll on me. I just could not stay with the group, no matter how hard I tried. Even up to mile 20 (in about 3:03), I still thought I had a chance for a sub-4. But then there were still more hills. And that humidity refused to let up. Not to mention the humility.

My finish time was a disappointing 4:04. At least I won my ancient age group. As always, I can say that although it was a tough day, the Akron Marathon organizers did a wonderful job, as they always do. And it was great to see all of my friends out there. You just can't beat camaraderie like that.

After the finish - Julie Boggs, Shannon Barnes, Theresa Wright, Dan Horvath, Sharon Sibilski

Pride goeth before the fall (and not for the first time)

I'm stumbling, stumbling, falling forward but not quite reaching the ground, stumbling, stumbling some more......

Wednesday mornings are for Lake Medina. My friends and I usually do one to three 3.5-mile loops that include the asphalt lower portion along with the crushed limestone trail adjacent to the lake. We begin in the dark, at 5:00 AM. 

I am talking too much, as usual. This time, it's about how Sharon Sibilski and I will be carpooling to Saturday's Akron Marathon. That's when the bump in the pavement gets me. I should say that there are a lot of bumps, ridges, and other uneven sections that tend to swallow up unwary runners. Especially in the dark. Especially runners who don't pick up their feet and don't pay attention to where they're running.

As I begin my tumble, I start to think that I may yet come out of this without becoming entirely horizontal. After a couple of more steps, I still cling to this hope. But I reach out to put my hands in front of me to break the fall, just in case. Good thing, because after oh, a mile or two of stumbling, I do finally lose my verticality for good. 

I manage to fall mostly on my hands, and just a little on my right leg. A few scrapes and a little pain, but no blood. I immediately let everyone know that I'm okay. They're all fairly kind and caring. Most importantly, they don't laugh too very hard. Except to comment that "You almost made it!"

It wasn't the first time. In fact, I had another fall that may well have been from the very same bump. Sadly, it probably won't be my last either.

Something of Slight Substance (SOSS)

He wasn't expecting a stellar workout. Just something that's better than nothing, otherwise known as a Something of Slight Substance (SOSS) run, since it's only four days till Akron. But even that ain't happening. The run starts at the same time as a slight drizzle. That light rain gradually becomes more and more substantial however. His friends are here, but they are not feeling it today, either. After hardly even getting started, he is done for the day. At least on the track.

He hates the mill. But it may be the only chance at salvation given this now-heavy rain. He drives home and steps on his old, trusty True. 4 by 1200 is the plan. You know. The one that just popped into his head. He does manage to do them, and even one more. As he finishes up, he thinks, this whole morning turns out to be not too very terribly awful.

Just Something of Slight Substance.

Weak to go

Oh, wait. I meant week to go. Not weak. I'm not weak at all. Nope. Strong like bull.

It's now been two weeks since Erie, and I've been back at it. After an easy week, including a long and sleepless weekend working NEO24, I ran pretty hard and fairly well during this one-and-done in-between week of training. For next week, I plan to take it fairly easy, tapering at least a little more than the one day I did for Erie. I hope that during this time, I can recover even a little more since I'm probably not quite back up to 100% yet. We will see how all that works out.