Time on my feet

For the ten-zillionth time, the coffee hasn't completely kicked in. Oh, it generally helps a little, and I'm far worse off without it. But even with it, I'm not truly with it. On this day and many others, I just can't quite get myself up to top speed.

I should add that top speed for me ain't what it used to be. It always used to help to run with my training partners, but that's something I don't do at all anymore. Going to a track or participating in a race can also do the trick. But I don't do those anymore either. No, I wouldn't consider Friday's Brunswick Marathon an actual race. It was more of a training run, at least the way I did it. A training run for survival.

Today's sojourn begins with thoughts of scouting out a new ten-mile course. I have plenty of courses, but it's sometimes fun to explore new possibilities. You would think that I know all of the streets around my Brunswick, Ohio home, and I mostly do. But sometimes there are new combinations to be had. And sometimes a run will bring me down a road that is somewhat less traveled. It's good to explore. Kind of.

But exploring when I'm this tired makes the world go by much more slowly, whilst I stumble along. I take the familiar track up Hickory Ridge, Pearl, Keller-Hanna, then circle around the high school, trying to avoid the goose poopsicles again (like on Friday), then I explore Miller Road, Miner, and Gary. I return on Oxford and through the path to Jefferson before doing a couple extra miles around the other President streets. Really, not much new or unusual at all. Except to say that my early slow pace has only gotten slower.

Yesterday's run was slower still. But I did explore more then, running on a couple roads that may have been entirely new to me. After exploring the gem streets (Emerald, Topaz, Ruby, etc.), I crossed over Substation and turned West onto Cessna and then Cheyney. These roads were quiet and they went on for a good ways; my kind of running course.

Running slow doesn't make you slow. Not running fast makes you slow. I'm guilty of both. All the exploring is just fine. But all my slow training (with no fast stuff to speak of) manifested itself in a terribly slothful marathon. Yes, time on my feet counts for something. Finishing a "race" or run is nice, but it's no substitute for running well. So now I feel the need to get moving again.

The question is, when?

Day 69: Get Enough Sleep

Knowledgeable athletes, including distance runners, are well aware of the importance of getting enough sleep. World-class runners reportedly get much more than other people, and the mid-day nap is an important part of their routine.

Although I am not quite world-class (I am still working on it), I also endeavor to get enough sleep. Based on my experience, it's of extreme importance, but there are other things to consider. One is probably how much time before waking to begin the run. Of course, caffeine figures importantly into that equation. Also, the relationship between the amount of sleep the previous night before a run does not appear to be nearly as important as the overall amount of sleep over a period of days, perhaps even weeks.

I can go out for a run the morning after an awful night's sleep (this happened yesterday), and still have a decent performance. This often happens for races, as pre-race nerves can be a factor. Yet if I don't get enough rest (including naps) over several days, I know my running will also suffer. It's possible that the amount of sleep two nights before a run have a greater influence than that of the night before. In any case, I'm certain that the amount of sleep over a relatively long period of time is what's most important.

My own sleep habits have greatly improved since my retirement. A very rough estimate would put it in the neighborhood of an hour more per day. How has my running been affected? One shouldn't put too fine on this, but I think it's improved, perhaps a great deal. Volume, for sure. Speed, maybe not so much. But that may be entirely because of the increased volume. And it may not be so bad anyway. Most importantly, I have been largely injury-free.

And that's a good thing.