The Big Push

 "Gentlemen, next week starts the big push."

Vince Lombardi and Jerry Kramer, winning the Super Bowl

After the Green Bay Packers won the very first Super Bowl, Jerry Kramer wrote a book about the experience. It's called Instant Replay, because, as an offensive lineman, Kramer never received much press or recognition until he made a famous block that enabled Quarterback Bart Starr to score a touchdown on a quarterback sneak to win the Championship that led to the first Super Bowl. The play was shown over and over, and cognizance and fame finally did come Kramer's way.

The 1968 book was widely read and quite influential. It's been called one of the best books ever written about football, or even all sports. What struck me most was the reverence, respect, and fear the players (big, robust men that they were) had for coach Vince Lombardi.

My most vivid recollection is this: Summer training for the upcoming Fall season was hard work. After another exhausting week, the spent players were in the locker room, too tired to even move on to the showers, much less dress up to leave for the day. They didn't want to even think about any further practice. Coach Lombardi enters and walks through the room. As he is about to exit, he announces, "Gentlemen, next week starts the big push."

Even though I read the book about 56 years ago, I still think about this in relation to my training. I can be working hard and (barely) get through a difficult week of training, but it must be said, "next week starts the big push."

Through and thru (and threw)

This week starts the big push. Try as I might, I cannot find a thorough description of what I mean by the big push. I've used the phrase more than once in the past, but I don't think I've explained its origin. That is going to change with my very next post. But not this one. For this one, I will stick to the topic: to describe mostly what's germane to today's run.

Your back/hip pain has subsided. Now, all you have to do is "run a lot" to get back into shape. (This is where the big push comes in.) A wise runner once said, "Do not increase volume and intensity at the same time (during a training cycle)." Good thing we don't pay attention to these wise guys.

Your weigh-in goes fairly well: 160 is about as good as one can expect these days.

You open a box of brand-new Nike Pegasus 41 trainers. You try them on. They feel great!

You shuffle over to Brunswick Middle School. Most speedwork occurs at Claggett Middle School, but since no one else would be showing up, it was preferable to be able to run from home. The shuffle pace is extremely slow, but that's okay.

You begin your 800s. How many will you do? Ten would be great, but since you're just getting back on your feet, any number from five to eight will do.

How fast will you do them? Until recently, the goal had been to do all under four minutes. The last few speed sessions haven't been so spectacular, however. Today, any decent pace will do. 

The first three are somewhat slower than four minutes, but you're unbothered. It feels good to run (fairly) fast, regardless of what the watch says.

Now comes the fourth. The first lap is your fastest yet; it's under two minutes - finally! Just as you begin the second lap, the pull/painful strain occurs in the tendon (or whatever it is) behind your left knee. Ouch!

And just like that, you're done. Done for the run for sure; for the week? The month? The year? Don't know, but it's discouraging.

I had been "training through" the back injury. Now, I have another one to do the same with: this knee thing. I guess you can say that I threw it out.

A weak back? When did you get it?

"Oh, about a week back."

Sorry for the old Vaudeville joke. My dad was a Vaudeville performer, and he had them in spades. To wit:

Patient: "Doc, it hurts when I raise my arm (or move my leg forward) like this."
Doctor: "Then don't do that."
Patient: "Doc, I have this pain in my hip."
Doctor: "Did you ever have this before?"
Patient: "Yes."
Doctor: "Well, you've got it again."

The good news is that my back/hip pain has improved. I have been stretching my lower back and strengthening my core. That, and taking a couple of days off, I believe, have helped.

It only hurts when I move my leg forward

It's unfortunate that moving a leg forward is a critical success factor for running. And walking. And climbing stairs. It appears that the general pain and soreness I've been experiencing during recent runs has coalesced into sciatica or something similar. These recent runs have become more and more painful, so much so that I took today off. It's the first off-day in over a month. Pretty drastic, eh?

This is all a bit of a shame for several reasons. 

1) I should be in peak condition now - in the past, when I've peaked for a marathon, my best running often came a couple of weeks after the big event. That's where I thought I might be these days. It ain't happening.

2) The weather has been absolutely gorgeous. I love to run on cool, crisp days like the ones we've been having. But it's hard to love your run when you're in so much pain.

3) I'm getting sympathy from my friends. I understand that this is out of love and concern for Dear Old Dan, but I'd much rather have their admiration for my greatness. (This is a kind of a joke, you know.) But even though I have so much trouble keeping up, it's still good to be with them. After Friday's failed attempt at a long run on Lester, I ran with Dave Gajewski and Larry Orwin on the Towpath, and then with Kelly Parker and Debbie Hicks on the Chippewa Inlet Trail.

I just hope I'm not on the wagon too much longer.

Chippewa Inlet Trail

Vitamin I and inflammation

Today's long Lester run was going to be a challenge. Eighteen usually isn't so tough, yet I knew this one would be. You see, I've been mighty sore lately. Mighty sore. Ever since the fortnight-ago Cleveland Marathon, every muscle and joint screams at me for any and every little movement. This is expected for a day or three after a race, but not two weeks. Such soreness is compounded when one runs another race (the Medina Half-Marathon) six days hence. 

Now, six days after that, the cumulated soreness has only gotten worse. Yesterday I ran the usual ten miles, and then hiked three at Hinckley, and I was hurtin' for certain. In order to recover enough to run long today, I took three Vitamin I (aka Ibuprofen) tablets. This is more than I've taken in years and years; I don't even take a single one very often. But I felt I had to reduce the inflammation. 

It worked... But only for a while. I felt decent and maintained a pretty good pace with the group for the first twelve miles. Then most of them were done, and it was just me and Shannon Barnes for the last part. That last part was increasingly painful. I suppose last night's Vitamin I was wearing off. Although it's possible that I may have been able to shuffle or walk another two, Shannon and I decided to call it quits at sixteen. 

Here's the problem: the week ain't over yet. I'm scheduled to run on the Towpath with my friends Larry Orwin and Dave Gajewski tomorrow, and possibly Hinckley on Sunday. Woah is me.

2026 Medina Half-Marathon Race Report

When you're slow and you don't know it, you run most of the first six miles with the 1:55 pace group, thinking that the pace is easy and maintainable. The damp, cool weather ain't too awful. But then you notice that each time you slow for a hill or an aid station, they get farther and farther ahead.

When you're slow and you don't know it, training partner Shannon Barnes comes up from behind around halfway, and you try mightily to stay with her, but she floats away - far away - before the mid-race conversation is completed.

When you're slow and you don't know it, your friend John Hnat comes up from behind around mile 10, and you begin another conversation that also gets cut off as this friend floats away as well. 

When you're slow and you don't know it, you think, at least mile 13 is downhill, and you should be able to smoke everyone around you, and you sort of do, except for Julie Boggs' son, Ben, who manages to run his final mile much faster than you.

When you're slow and you don't know it, you finish in 1:56 and change (winning your age group), and you may as well be happy about it. It beats being sad.

The Medina Half is the race where everybody knows your name. It's great to see all your friends there in their native environment. It's also great when your wife and daughters show up to cheer you on.

Photo: Veronica Dancer

Plan C

Last week, whilst obsessing about the weather forecast for the Cleveland Marathon, I began to consider a Plan B. The thought process was sorta like this: if things don't go so well for your 'A' race, run another one soon, while you're still in good shape.

Yeah, that sounds good, but what if 1) things do indeed not go so well, but 2) you are slso so beat up that you don't even want to consider some other Plan B event? That means it's time for Plan C.

What's Plan C, you ask? Damned if I know.

I do have the Akron Marathon in September. Not to mention the Medina Half tomorrow. For that latter one, I'm still beat up, and the weather looks bad once again (rain , not heat this time).

Cleveland Marathon Race Report

They can't all be gems. I am finding myself saying that more and more these days. Especially today.

After 13.1 miles (in ~1:56), I was already doing the marathon shuffle.

After 18 miles (about 2:41), I was in death-march mode.

At about 20 miles (around 3:03), I was starting to re-examine my life choices.

It would have been a good day to have someone suggest going to breakfast after the Half. I'd been running much of the first 12 miles with Eileen Meisler, and that part hadn't gone too poorly. I was jealous, however, when she and the other Half-Marathoners peeled off to finish, whilst we Marathoners had to soldier on. That's when it began to get hotter and hotter. Although there were some nice, shady sections, the heat just kept building.

Despite all the Gatorade, gels, and salt-sticks, that heat got to me. The entire second half was awful, especially the last 10K. I suppose it could have been worse, as it has been for a few of the past Cleveland Marathons, but it was pretty bad today.

I finished in 4:13. I'd been hoping for sub-4. It wasn't in the cards today. Although they interviewed me at the finish line ("You may have won your age group. You are an inspiration to us all!"), I later learned that I was second, not first, in my ancient age group.

To add insult to injury, I became the proud recipient of a parking ticket when I got back to my car in the 81F heat.

Thanks to Larry Orwin for coming downtown to witness my exciting finish!

Photo credit: Larry Orwin

More on Plan B

Temperatures be like, 55, 55, 55, <<all month long>>, then suddenly 85 on the day of the race. Weather can have a profound impact on marathon performance, and this Sunday, I'm afraid, will be no exception. Most of us don't get to run too many marathons throughout the year, and we need to train for months to run one. Thus, it's particularly concerning to see a forecast such as the one we have for this weekend.

By the way, there's a typo in the post title. It should read, Moron Plan B. There. That's better.

Dan, what do you mean by Plan B, you ask? Excellent question. As I mentioned in a previous post, Plan B is for times when your Plan A Marathon doesn't go quite as well as planned, and you want a second chance to run a decent marathon whilst you're still in marathon shape. This is not to say that I'm in the very best marathon shape possible right now. But since everything's relative, I believe I can say that I just might be the best I've been in a while.

Here are a couple of my candidates for a Plan B. They come shortly after the Cleveland Marathon.

MISH Waterfront Marathon, June 6 in Gladstone, Michigan.

The Maratime Marathon, June 7 in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. 

They both sound nice, but they're a fur piece. I guess I'll wait until after Sunday's Cleveland Marathon to decide what to do.