All Stories Great and Small --> Running in Florida

Of All Things

Of all the things I could have spotted as I was coming out of the subdivision from Kelley Street onto Front Beach Road, the last I expected was a sidewalk. But there it was, a sidewalk, sitting there begging to be stepped upon. Recently extended to this point, I believe it's now continuous from here to the central part of Panama City Beach, six or more miles East of Beachside Resort. I'll have to test that hypothesis someday. I usually prefer streets to sidewalks, but Front Beach Road is different: highly crowned, and busy enough to be annoying. On FBR, you're best off using the sidewalk.

Overdue Bonk

Distraction 1 (about 4 miles into the second loop): The Orange Trail makes a sharp right turn. In the process, it goes from Kelly Street to Bear Track Trail. Reflecting on this, I must point out that Kelly is more of a trail than a street, and Bear Track is more of a dirt road than a trail. I also wonder if this Kelly Street is in line with the other (driveable) Kelly Street that's near Beachside Resort. I stop to reflect on this some more.

Distraction 2 (about a mile later): A snake! It's pretty good-sized and is taking up residence right in the middle of the trail. I can get around it, but I still stop to admire its nice colors and patterns. I later learn that it is a corn snake.

Distraction 3 (a half-mile later): Shells! Here on the side of the trail, seven or so miles from shore. Someone must have dumped them here. All fine thoughts, but most importantly, they enabled me to stop and reflect, thereby providing another fine distraction.

I should be powering myself right by these distractions, but I'm not having a good lap. Laps are the 9.5-mile Orange loop that goes around the perimeter of Panama City Beach Conservation Park. The first one went fine; all I needed was to consider my original goals for the day:

Goal 1: Complete two (2) 9.5-mile loops

Goal 2: Run the second loop as fast or faster than the first

Goal 3: Finish the 19-plus miles at a good pace

So, one out of three ain't bad, is it? It wasn't the distractions that got to me; I was already crashing. The only thing left was the burning. That happened as time went on: a slow burn. But one that did get worse as it went on. With halfway to go on this second loop I encounter the distractions and proceed to run slower and slower and slower and slower. I barely stumble back to my car.

This was quite a bonk. I gotta say, I was due for a real stinker. I got it.

Continuous, Maybe, Contiguous, Not

Note to self: Do not plan to run more than nine miles. I would have been way better off the other day, had I done just one 9 1/2-mile loop. And today, that new sidewalk into town only got me 4 1/2 miles before the big-time construction slowed me way, way down. 

A smart runner would have turned back. Me? I try to go on a little further.

Said sidewalk wasn't entirely connected anyway, but that traffic circle they're building at 79 and Front Beach Road (the same one they've been building for years and years now) is enough to stop anyone dead in their tracks. There's just nowhere to go. I wind up running around parking lots to get up to five miles before turning back.

A funny thing happens on that return, however. I run faster and faster, and I finish strong. Of all things.

I have nevertheless decided not to register for a half-marathon scheduled for this Saturday. Racing is a good thing, and I'm sure I need it. But this race is in Pensacola, two hours away. The driving distance, along with my not-so-great state of fitness, were the deciding factors. Maybe I can hit the track or the park sometime this weekend to get something of substance.

Does the Body Good

We all know that running does the body good. Running on a softer surface on occasion, as I do here at PCB Conservation Park, does it better than the concrete and asphalt closer to Beachside. And other aspects of running at the park do me good as well, like the peace and quiet, safety from traffic, and clean air to breathe. 

The air is indeed cool, crisp, clean, and clear today as I begin my sojourn around the park. Today's goals are similar to those of last Tuesday. But of course, I'm hoping for a different result. A little redemption would be nice. The woods are lit up by the bright full moon, and I almost don't need my headlamp. Even so, I start slow so that I (hopefully) don't need to finish slow, like last time. 

After about two miles, I notice the faint odor of smoke. It gets stronger and stronger, and eventually, I can even see a smoky haze as the sun is rising. Breathing is becoming more difficult; it's like being next to a smoker in a confined place. It occurs to me that breathing this stuff in is most assuredly not doing my body good.

The smoky air begins to clear as I finish the final two miles of that first 9.5-mile loop. Evidently, the smoke only lives in the Northwest corner of the park. When I get back to the car and visitor center, the air is crisp, clean, and clear again, although not quite so cool. I suppose I should head back out for more, as planned.

But I do not want to encounter that smoke again. So instead of the usual Orange trail, I take the Blue one. At 6.7 miles, it's not quite so far, but it does not go to that far corner where the stickiness lives.

I actually pick up the pace and run fairly fast now that I can breathe. It's getting even lighter now that the sun is up, and I'm in my element. When I return, I still have a couple more to get my miles in, and I do. Easy does it at this point.

I think the 'ole bod came through okay.

At the trailhead between loops at Conservation Park

The Bad and the Ugly

Yesterday was a good day; I did a Yasso workout (10 x 800) on the roads, and in the process, I also got two six-mile loops in. Today, not so much. I guess it caught up with me, but I could only do nine miles, rather than the planned ten to twelve. 

I'm not too concerned; these things happen. I am a little concerned, however, about the twinges of sciatica, or something like it, that I am feeling later in the day whilst walking at St. Andrews Park. We'll see where this goes.

Today's Tremendous Tempo Training Trot

I took a couple Vitamin I pills yesterday to ward off that possible sciatica, I almost never take more than one, and I don't even take one all that often. Today, I am feeling okay, although a little wary, as I start the run. My first six go alright, so I pick it up some for the second six. Guess what? It goes good as well. So much so, that I will do something rare (for me): I will document my splits.

Splits for the second 6-mile loop

Okay, enough pride. Back to reality.

Third Time is a Charm

It's my third time running at Conservation (the other two were longish as well - you can read about them above). It's also my third run of consequence for the week (the other two were an interval run and a tempo run that you can read about just above). This time, I was determined to make it two decent, complete 9.5-mile loops and to finish strong.

The first loop was early; it was dark as I got started. I ran pretty slow, even considering that I picked it up toward the end. Now on the second loop, things are a little different. The sun is well up in the sky, and I'm awake. About halfway through, my mile splits finally dip below ten minutes per mile. Can I maintain that till the end?

PCB Conservation Park Pre-dawn

I can and I do. It isn't easy, but I manage to get there. 'There' is 19-plus (I actually jog a little more to make twenty), a relatively strong finish, and over seventy miles for the week. Things are going fairly well. Fairly.

Dress Rehearsal, by the numbers

1) 3:54 - I start too fast, and ask myself, is this sustainable? The answer comes back, and it's a no. So I slow down a little and manage a time for this 800 that I wouldn't mind having for all ten.

2) 3:50 - Well, this one's better still, and I'm still feeling fine. But it's only two down and eight to go. That's a lot.

3) 3:49 - Now, is this sustainable? Can't be. But I'll continue to forge ahead. 

4) 3:49 - I gotta say, this is pretty consistent. Consistency is a good thing. Why do I keep hearing footsteps, mostly behind me? I'm alone here at the Arnold High School Track because the kids have off for Martin Luther King Day. I eventually determine that the footsteps I hear are my own, an echo bouncing around the stadium area.

5) 3:46 - The reason my footsteps are so loud is that I'm wearing my Nike Air Zoom Alphafly NEXT% shoes today, and they're noisy as hell. I wear them almost exclusively for races, but I'd decided to make this run a dress rehearsal for the upcoming Tallahassee Marathon. I've even got my toe socks on. They (the shoes, not the socks) do sure seem to make a difference.

6) 3:45 - Despite the short break I just took, this whole thing is getting mighty tedious. Yet I keep cranking out these pretty-good splits.

7) 3:48 - Okay, that one was slightly slower. It would have been worse had I not noticed the slowing splits along the way and picked it up some.

8: 3:45 - Now there are only two to go, and I think I will be able to do it. Not that failure is an option.

9) 3:45 - Now, just one more. I am fairly sure I will be able to do it. Time to unleash the beast.

10: 3:39 - The beast does get unleashed, but I wouldn't say he ran with unbridled fury. Still, this winds up being the best of the bunch; I can't complain. I don't even know whom I would complain to, even if I could.

Yasso, Here we go Again

It's Tuesday. That means it's time for another (third of probably three) Yasso run. After Saturday's long run at home, I took it easy on Sunday and took Monday completely off. Therefore, today's the day. Tallahassee is a week from Sunday; I may do something of slight substance (SOSS) next week, but probably not quite so many 800s. Let's make this one a good one.

Last week's Yasso run was at the track, and it was using my fast shoes, so it was decidedly fast. The week before, I did it as part of two Beachside Six (mile) runs, and those intervals were slower. Today, I'm trying that again, hoping to at least keep all ten 800 times below four minutes.

Guess what? I do it. They're not as fast as last week's ten on the track, but they're pretty darn good. I'm happy with the run, and I'm happy that it's over.

All Dressed up, Noplace to go

Besides being dressed up, I'm coffee'd up as well. Maybe I can beat the storm, I think. It's only a little after four, and weather.com tells me I have an hour or so. Maybe I can get at least a few miles in before it hits, I think. But then, during my final preparations, I begin to hear the boomers. I stick my head out to witness the beginnings of the storm. The lightning over the gulf is pretty cool, but a little too scary for running. Now, I will have to wait until six. That's when the fitness room opens. Treadmill, here I come.

No, I don't. I wait a while longer, and it's not raining so hard, so I venture out into the wilderness. I only shuffle around between raindrops for a few miles, but I'm treated to another rainbow.

Last Long Run, and I really mean it this time

Tallahassee is now just over a week away. It's PCB Conservation Park and it's really and truly the final long run before that big dance. The first 9.5-mile loop went just fine. Now, if only I can keep this going. "This" is pretty-good pacing during the second loop around the park. Each mile generally gets faster, and that's the way I like it. The final miles are fastest of all. As you may have guessed, I'm quite pleased with this. But the proof will still be in the pudding.

Depletion run

It used to be that for the week prior to the marathon, you would eat fewer carbohydrates than usual for three days, then load up on them for the three days just before the race. After the first three days of carb depletion, you would do a 'depletion run' to further deplete your glycogen reserves before you start to load. Although carbo-loading is still a thing, the depletion, as well as the depletion run, have fallen by the wayside. I'm not entirely sure why.

Regardless of what's in vogue, I did just complete my three low-carb days, and today, I did my depletion run - ten miles at a pretty good pace. The run went fairly well; I'm reasonably happy with it.

I'm otherwise tapering. Only a handful of miles are planned for the next couple of days.

I should add that my biggest concern for the race is that I probably weigh in higher than I ought to. I'm hoping that the fast shoes will counteract this great weight thing.

Not the Tallahassee Marathon Race Report

Looking for the Tallahassee Marathon Race Report? It isn't here. It's in a separate post. To see it, click here.

Recovery Slog

I was going to call it a recovery jog, but it's too sluggish to qualify for anything but a slog. However, it's also kind of fun. 

I can go left, toward the sunrise, or right, toward the moonset. I choose left. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to run on the beach, but I think it was a good one. It seems to be just what the doctor ordered for my tired, sore muscles and bones. Of course, I sink in too much as the footing for running is poor. That's why I run so little on this beach that's right outside our door. But today I sort of enjoy it.

I shuffle along and enjoy the sunrise and the nearby surf. I pick up some trash along the way. Eventually, I turn back. I get three whole miles in, but it took me over an hour. And I'm okay with that.

Slogans of the Week

Look what the cat dragged in - For the second day in a row, I stumble into the room looking and feeling like a drowned rat. At least I got my ten miles in today. Yesterday...

The better part of valor - I'm five miles into my planned ten-mile run when I see the first flash of lightning. As expected, that's followed up by some thunder. And it's just started to rain. I decide to cut the run short and get back to safety. It is discretion, of course, that's the better part of valor.

There will come a day - There will come a day when I can no longer do this, I sometimes tell myself. But today, I continue, is not that day. By the same token (or perhaps a different one), I could also say that there will come a day when I can run (relatively) fast once again. But today, I retort, is not that day It's been a week since Tallahassee, and I'm still babying myself. When will...

Cooldown from Hell

Cooldown from hell can take on two different meanings: that the run was hell and I was merely cooling down from it, or, the cooldown itself was hell. It is that latter context that I'm thinking of today. The two Beachside-six loops had actually been going fairly well up until now. I'd done a Yasso, with six of the 800s coming in the first six-miler, and then the other four at the start of the second. But now, I have three more miles to complete that second loop, and for a cooldown, that's about two and a half too many. Those three miles are tough! I'm just slogging through them to get back home. But eventually, I do. The 800s themselves were slower than those of a few weeks ago, but they were good for getting the cobwebs out. It's time to get motor-vated once again. For what, I don't know.

Chasing my Shadow

It's plenty warm out here in PCB Conservation Park. But it's a decent-enough long run; my first long one since Tallahassee and my first run here in three weeks. The first loop was slow, but this second one is better. Until the heat from the sun comes into play, that is. I've learned to run these 9.5-mile loops clockwise most of the time to avoid finishing up facing the bright sun. This works, even today when it's getting hot. I manage to have each mile split get faster, in spite of everything. It always feels good to finish strong. And although today's run isn't as fast as that last one I did here all those weeks ago, it's good enough to call it a success.

Long shadows in the park

Why Can't I average ten minutes per mile today?

It's nice when I can average ten minutes per mile for a particular run. I do sometimes, but only occasionally.  Why not today? The reason is that I can't run even one mile under ten minutes, that's why.

I suppose it would have helped if I'd had more rest after Thursday's long run (where I did beat that pace during the second half). At least today's run is done. I made it back up to seventy for this week (yippee).

Overdue Bonk, Part II

Over the past week and a half (after Tallahassee), I've been slowly clawing my way back into shape. I even did a long run (see just above) and a couple of speedwork sessions. But I was nevertheless a little concerned going into today's planned long run. Monday's Yasso run was still lingering in my old legs, and I felt dehydrated even at the start.

Having said all that, my first PCB Conservation Park 9.5-mile loop is going well. I'm gradually increasing my pace, and I will wind up with a decent time as I finish up. The thing is, I'm not feeling it. Well actually, I am. My soreness is more pronounced now, and I'm even more dehydrated in this heat and humidity. I'm thinking of calling it a day. Maybe just another mile or two upon my return. With only a half-mile to go, I'm running about as fast as I can go. That's when another runner (of all things) catches up with me, and then runs alongside me for the rest of the way.

It's a little surprising because I rarely see too many runners out so early. More do come out later (when I sometimes come back to walk with Debbie). My companion and I talk some, and then converse more when we arrive back at the visitor center. He's young, from Ukraine, and apparently very fast. He comes here nearly every day, so it's surprising that I haven't noticed him before. He's got the Las Vegas Marathon coming up. Nice conversation.

I say goodbye and begin running again. I'm slower than before, and it's even hotter now, but I somehow manage to slog enough additional miles to get up to 18 total. It (and I) are not a pretty sight.

One more

I'm doing one more long run at Conservation. Even though it's hot, it's a good one, with the second loop faster than the first. I do manage to take a tumble, but the tuck-and-roll saves my butt (actually, my head) - I get up and keep on truckin'. Not bad.

In fact, not bad describes these two months of running pretty well. I'll take it. Now, back to Ohio.

For more about PCB, check out our travel blog.

There's a fork in the road - should I take it?

I chose not to run a nearby half-marathon today. It would have been nice, I'm sure, but I'm still recovering from Tallassee.  I wouldn't have been at my best. And it was expensive. And it supported a charity that I'm not sure I want to support (a particular charter school). We pick and choose races and other things for all sorts of reasons. Some of the reasons actually make some sort of sense.

The Xenia Marathon is next on my list. It's a month and a half away, so I've got some time to prepare. I'm going to attempt to stay in the same shape I was in for Tallahassee.

Other than that, I've just signed up for the Medina Half-Marathon and the Cleveland Marathon, both of which are in May. And they both follow a significant birthday of mine. They also both follow a safari during which I may not be able to run much. Unless a lion is chasing me.

P.S. Hours after I registered for Cleveland and posted this, I learned that my Grandson has a concert that may conflict with that race. Such a conflict would disappoint me, but I'd have to go with the concert if it came down to it. More to come on this one.

2023 Tallahassee Marathon

I trained. Hard. I tapered and carbo'd. I got up early today and donned my fast shoes. After the long drive over, I smartly parked halfway between the start and the finish. With plenty of time to spare, I jogged over to the start to check-in. It's just about go-time, and I'm just about ready to go. What could go wrong?

Evidently, only one thing. I check the back of my shorts to feel for my car key which ought to be back there in the zippered pocket. IT ISN'T!

Panic attack. What do I do? Pick up my bib anyway and then run back to the car to retrace my steps? Or forget about the race and just go back to the car? The key may be close to the car, or I may have accidentally locked it inside. If I can't find it, I may need to call Debbie, who's back at the hotel. She wouldn't have a vehicle with which to pick me up, but she may be able to get our friends to make the 2 1/2 hour drive up here. Or (if it's locked inside) should I just call a locksmith? 

I'm always so careful about this, I think. Why would I have messed up this particular time, I think? Just for the heck of it, I check down below: inside my shorts, but at the lowest possible position. IT'S THERE! What a miracle! I must have tried to drop it in that back pocket and instead deposited it closer to my butt. Whatever! Now, it's really go-time.

I check in, warm up some more, and then line up for the start. I ran the Tallahassee Marathon three years ago, and today's race doesn't seem much different. I'm sort of hoping for a similar result: sub-four hours. Two possible concerns: 1) I'm not as young as I used to be, and 2) I feel like I may be carrying a little more weight than I ought to. 

It's cool and cloudy, and the first couple of miles go fairly well. I had forgotten how hilly the first half of this race is. The hills aren't huge, but they seem to be almost constant. The half-marathon is probably not the fastest. But after the half-marathoners peel off, the course flattens out. Most of the second half is on all-purpose trails (aka bike paths).

I make a couple of bathroom pit stops in the first half, and that slows me down a bit. I'm fairly relieved when I see that my official time at the halfway point is just under two hours. Now, if I can only keep a steady nine-minute-per-mile pace for the second half, I'll break four hours.

I'm actually running most miles a little faster than nine minutes. Just don't slow down; that's the thing. Easier said than done in a marathon. Even though I'm feeling some fatigue, I'm still keeping the pace steady. I can't go faster, but at least I'm not slowing, even during that final 10K. 

I cross the finish line in 3:55. That exceeds my expectations and aspirations by several minutes. I smile as I come in and the announcer says, "Here comes Daniel Horvath from Brunswick, Georgia!" He must have corrected himself because a lady comes up to me and tells me that she is originally from Brunswick, Ohio.

I won my age group. It's my best marathon time in two and a half years. 

Yeah, I'm kind of a big deal. A legend in my own mind.

Long Likely Lester Longing

Okay, I'll admit that this post's subject don't make much sense, but I'll try to explain. I hadn't run on the Lester Rail Trail for a few weeks, and I was longing to do so. And today's run was to be a long one. At least, it had seemed likely that I'd get the desired mileage. Capisce? Okay, forget it. I'll just move on to tell the story.

It's my last, or possibly next-to-last long run before the Tallahassee Marathon. I arrive a bit before five, enough for an initial mile. I needed to do that because I seem to require more and more time and miles to wake up lately. The first mile is always the slowest, so I may as well get it done early. At 5, Michelle Wolff shows up, and she and I run the initial six-mile double out-and-back loop. It's cold (around 30F) but not windy. We hardly notice, since we're talking and sharing stories.

At 6, Sarah Joan and Harold Dravenstott show up to join the fray. We do another six (all while talking and telling more stories) before it's time for everyone to leave. Everyone except me, that is.

Now, at about 7:30 and about thirteen-plus miles in, I'm on my own. After a slowish start, I decide that it would be better all around if I can run faster for these final six, rather than slower. That's a big IF, of course. But somehow, I do manage to pick it up a little. The last two miles are my best. That's a good sign.

2022: Not so bad

 

I've had worse years. Like 2021 for instance. 2022 was better; I was on the upswing for most of it, and that always feels good. The highlights were surely the Akron Marathon, where I got back under four hours, and the Loop the Lake 50K, where I got back to the ultramarathon distance. I could also talk about my pretty-decent half-marathons and my pretty good overall mileage...

But I won't. I'll just leave it there, except to say that I ran most of those miles and races with friends, perhaps moreso than ever. And that was the biggest part of my success this year, such as it was. I'll take it.

We thought it would be easy

"Running: We do this not because it is easy. We do it because we thought it would be easy." Channeling my inner JFK here. I like this one. It ranks right up there with, "Any idiot can run a marathon. But it takes a special kind of idiot to run an ultramarathon."

I have been running a fair amount of miles lately, and I am still waiting for it to get easy. Luckily, I have friends with whom to share the misery. I honestly don't know where I'd be without them.

Today's friendly run began alone, at Medina's wonderful Square. I ran out towards Roscoe Ewing Park, and promptly got lost on the streets located at the far end of the trail. Once I found myself, I had to rush back to the Square in order to meet everyone. Now we ventured out through the park once again, this time with folks who knew their way. Then it was back to the Square again, to drop people off and pick up one more, before heading out through Roscoe Ewing one last time.

Those final few of my eighteen miles were not pretty. You might even say they were pretty ugly. But they're done, and so is this episode of... We do this because...

Not not running today

It's Christmas, and I cannot not go out for a run. By the way, did you know that in some languages, double negatives cancel one another and produce an affirmative; while in other languages, doubled negatives intensify the negation. Although English is generally in the former category, there are inconsistencies even within this here language itself (for example, "I don't owe nuthin' to nobody" is an example of a double-negative that's still a negative.) But in today's context, the "cannot not go out for a run" means that I do indeed have to go.

Out is the key word here. It's always possible to bang out a few miles on the 'ole dreadmill. But (once again) it's Christmas. I cannot remember a Christmas in which I did not go out for a run. Oh okay, maybe back in the seventies, before running was a thing. Thus, it's possibly been as many as fifty years since I've spent a Christmas day without a run. I like to think of the run as a gift I give to myself.

One possible reason to not not not run is that it's cold outside. So cold, that I haven't run outdoors since last Thursday, three days ago. This morning's weather is actually an improvement: the temperature is +9F and the windchill is up to -17F; positively toasty. In preparation, I unbox my new Adidas Terex trail running shoes, and I don my silver mid-1980s Adidas Gore-tex running jacket and pants. Along with my balaclava, hat, ski gloves, lighted vest, and several additional layers, I'm ready to go. 

The roads in my neighborhood are covered with packed-down snow. I get decent traction with the new shoes. At first, it doesn't seem cold at all. But then whoa: a gust of wind hits me from the side. Hooboy, that wakes me up. I quickly re-learn how much of a difference it makes whether I'm running with the wind, or into it. 

The gore-tex, the gloves, the shoes, etc. are all doing their jobs. It's me that can't get moving. I trudge through the subdivision, not seeing a moving car until the start of mile four, my last. It's quiet, dark, and peaceful. Just like Christmas is supposed to be. I find myself enjoying the whole experience at least as much as anticipated.

Having said all this, it's nice when it's over, and I can get back into the house to warm back up. It took over an hour to do those four cold, snowy (and at some points, icy) miles. But I'm happy I did it. And, as they say, the best part about the run is..... it's over!

Merry Christmas.

Wholly Unholy: a First Breakfast

Brown rice, cinnamon, canned pumpkin, plain greek yogurt, honey. These are a few of my favorite things. It may sound awful to you, and believe me, it actually looked even worse. But... (and it's a big butt) I did indeed like it. That was first breakfast today. You know, the one before the run. Second breakfast is what comes after. And no, I did not forget elevensies. 

If I eat anything at all before a run, it's often just an apple or some other fruit. But when the run will be a long one, it's good to have something more substantial. (Debbie would refer to this as needing some 'substinance.') Today's unholy mess of a breakkie would surely do the trick. Wouldn't it?

It was just two days ago that I got my long run for the week done: eighteen miles on Lester Rail Trail. First breakfast before that one consisted of a couple leckerli (Substantial Swiss cookie) bars. Fast forward to today. I was thinking of doing another lone ong, this time on the treadmill due to the 0F temperatures and ridiculous wind chills With the leckerli now gone, it was time for the rice-pumpkin-yogurt concoction. 

It wasn't pretty, and it was even slower than Thursday's Lester run. But (most importantly) it's done. Now, it's time for second breakfast.

Storm's a-comin'

 

Description

...WINTER STORM WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM 1 AM FRIDAY TO 10 AM EST SATURDAY... ...WIND CHILL WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM 4 AM FRIDAY TO 10 AM EST SATURDAY... WHAT...Multi-hazard winter storm with a combination of strong winds, very cold temperatures, snow, and blowing snow expected. Total snow accumulations of 2 to 4 inches. Winds gusting as high as 60 mph. Dangerously cold wind chills expected. Wind chills as low as 30 below zero. WHERE...Portions of north central and northeast Ohio and northwest Pennsylvania. WHEN...For the Winter Storm Warning, from 1 AM Friday to 10 AM EST Saturday. For the Wind Chill Warning, from 4 AM Friday to 10 AM EST Saturday. IMPACTS...Plan on slippery road conditions. Widespread blowing snow could significantly reduce visibility and potentially cause hazardous travel. The hazardous conditions could impact the morning and evening commute. Very strong winds could cause extensive damage to trees, power lines, and blowing snow. The cold wind chills could cause frostbite on exposed skin in as little as 30 minutes.

We've been hearing about this oncoming storm for a week, but now it's just about to arrive. What's a runner to do? Get his/her miles in while we can. And that was the plan for today.

Actually, the planning began last night. Realizing that Friday through Sunday are not going to be good for running, I decided that Thursday would be my day to get a long one in. A couple of my friends would already be running on the Lester Rail Trail; all I needed to do was arrive earlier to get enough extra miles in to call it "long." (That's by my definition - 18 or more miles = a long run. It would be no more than that this time around, but hopefully, no less either.) So I contacted Andy Wolff to see if he'd like to be my early companion.

Andy and I ran one six-mile loop from 4:30 to 5:30. It went pretty well. At that point, Andy had to head off to work, but Chadwick Sunday and his dog, Ella showed up for my second six. That was nice as well; I hardly noticed the miles going by. But now that it was 6:30, Chadwick (and Ella) had to leave for work as well. Of course, that's when Michelle Wolff showed up to accompany yours truly for his final six.

Yours truly was beginning to get a little tuckered out, but Michelle was okay with that, having just completed a strenuous strength workout.

We finished up around 7:30, just as it was beginning to get light. We beat the approaching bad weather by twelve hours or so. And I got my long run in.

Me and Connie and our racing flats

I found myself telling this story to some friends during our Wednesday morning sojourn at Lake Medina. So now, I'll tell it again here. It's an oldie but goodie.

~

The year is 2010. I'm working at Second Sole Medina with Connie Gardner. She had ordered a pair of yellow (with sparkly laces) Mizuno Ronin 2 racing flats and is excitedly trying them on. "They're way too big," she exclaims. We determine that the shoes are sold in unisex sizes; women's are 1 1/2 sizes smaller than the corresponding men's, so they would need to order them accordingly. But since Connie didn't know this, she is now stuck with big shoes. She begins to consider whether and how to return them.

"Just for the heck of it, let me try them on," I say. And they fit like gloves. 

I don't usually wear racing flats. I consider myself too big and lumbering for them, and I figure I need the cushioning and support that normal training shoes provide. But I figure that in this case, I'll make an exception: "I'll buy them from you," I say. They definitely are comfortable, and who knows, maybe they'll help me run faster.

"You have a half-marathon coming up, right?" she asks. "Stomp the Grapes, this Saturday," I answer. "Wear them, and if you can run a minute faster than your last half, then I'll let you pay me," she says.

Wait a minute. This is just the opposite of the type of incentive that I would have thought up, had I been in her shoes (so to speak). I would have thought that if I run well, I should get them for free, and if I run poorly, that's when I should have to pay.  As it is, you might call it a negative incentive. 

Yet I'm not really surprised. I just consider it 'Connie logic.' If I run well, I will earn the right to pay her and keep the shoes.

What happened, you ask? You can read the old race report by clicking here, but I will summarize it by saying that I did indeed earn the right to pay Connie.

P.S. Funniest part of all: I STILL HAVE THE SHOES! I wore them for a few races back in the day, then placed them in the garage where they became buried by other old running shoes. They appear to be in very nice shape and still fit like gloves. The laces even still sparkle. But I most likely won't be wearing them again anytime soon. I'm even more big and lumbering than I was in 2010.

The laces still sparkle

UAE

I managed to do two runs on dry land during the past ten days. The rest of the time, I was stuck on the Good Ship Nautica, where it was deck loops or dreadmill, or both. Mostly both. One piece of good news about that: through careful consideration and analysis, I've determined that it's best to extend the deck loops to include two hallways, making the distance about seven laps per mile, versus the usual thirteen. 

But let's talk about the dry land runs. They weren't particularly fast or far, but they were done. One was in Abu Dhabi, and the other was in Sir Bani Yas. The latter is a United Arab Emirates island. Did I mention that they weren't great runs? 

Oh, and don't forget about my pound-a-day cruising rule (something I am proud of). I'll be close.

A run on Sir Bani Yas

Medina Turkey Chase 4-Mile Race Report

It's the first annual turkey trot race here in Medina and 'twas tons of fun. Everyone who's anyone was there on the Square.

Pumpkin pies went to the first 50 gobblers and the top 50 hens. I managed to not win one (I was 63rd). There was also a raffle for running shoes for anyone who outran the turkey today. I did beat it, but alas; no shoes either, The race did not include any age group awards, so I was out of luck here as well. I did, however, come away with some good memories of a nice race.

It was a picture-perfect late-November morning in Medina: cool, but warming up with the rising sun. After the first two downhill miles, I had hopes of keeping my overall time under 32 minutes. Alas, this wasn't to be, either. I slowed down a little for mile 3, and then a lot for majorly uphill mile 4. Still, 32:10 or so seems like a good finish time, so I will take it.

Now, it's time for some premeditated gluttony.

I may not be my usual speedy self today

Excuses don't age well. They're best when fresh. Thus, when I say, "I may not be my usual speedy self today" (followed by my myriad of reasons why) at the start of the run, it's much better than trying to express those excuses afterward.

Today, at the start of our long run on the Lester Rail Trail, I say, "I may not be my usual speedy self today," and I get the usual moans and eye rolls. (Not that I can see their eyes rolling in the early morning darkness, but I can feel it happening.) "But lookyahere," I say, "Besides the ridiculous cold and the stupid early hour, and the fact that my muscles are still sore from last week's Loop the Lake run, my feet are absolutely killing me." "Yadda, yadda, yadda," they say. Or at least think. (It doesn't matter which; I can hear it either way.)

About that my feet are killing me thing: it's mostly toelio (an impacted big toenail that's turning black). Of course, it began at Loop the Lake. But instead of improving over the last week, it's gotten worse. That big toe is now extremely sore. I'm trying to treat it by soaking it in hot water and applying antibiotic cream. We'll see where all this takes me.

Running wise, my toe did manage to take me through today's 18 miles. Now it's time to soak it some more.

Failure to Launch

There were two goals today. 1) Get ten miles in at the track, and 2) Do something of substance. Goal one happened, but it wasn't pretty. In fact, it became less pretty as time went on. But at least I can say mission accomplished for that one.

For goal 2, not so much. I had every intention of doing 400-meter repeats, or any other distance, for that matter. It just didn't happen. Me (and my compions, for that matter) never actually began our speedy stuff. Instead, we simply ran around in circles, talking as we went. It was cold, my feet are still killing me, and I'm still sore and tired. How's that for a list of excuses? Not so great? Too bad.

Loop the Lake 50K race report in backward order

On occasion, I like to write a race report in backward order. Why do this, you ask? What’s so special about forward order, I retort. Maybe it will be fun. Or not. 

Mile 30.8 – I can see the finish line, so I suppose I might make it. This, despite the painful feet, feeling unwell most of the past week, and the general fatigue I’m sustaining from running my first ultramarathon in two years. The worst thing is, I’m sure the pizza will now be cold.

Mile 30 – It’s awfully lonely out here. Many of the 25K and relay runners are done, so most of what’s left are the 50Kers like me. It’s funny, but I thought most of them would be finished by now, but maybe they took some breaks. I’ve slowed down a little (from about ten-minute pace to about ten-thirty pace), but that’s not so awful. It appears that everyone else has slowed as well. At least I won’t be dead last. Maybe not even in the final five.

Mile 29.5 – My feet are killing me, especially the right one. I’m not going to try to fix it; I’ll just zoom through and run the final (of 20) 1.55-mile loop of the lake. I think I can make it, despite the fact that my foot feels like it's being stabbed with little knives.

Mile 27 – It’s snowing. Not a lot, but the thing is, the flakes are coming down sideways. The wind, which hadn’t bothered me much until now, is picking up. The temperature has not made it out of the upper 30s today. I’m okay with all of that.

Mile 25 – My feet are killing me, especially the left one. The oncoming blisters will knock me right out of this race if I don’t do something. I grab some bandages. The trouble is, I don’t know whether I can get these compression socks off without scissors. Much less, get them back on. This wardrobe adjustment takes a good chunk of time, but eventually, I get back on course, a new man.

Mile 23.5 – This is the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life. But it doesn’t go down easily. That’s because I’m trying to consume it whilst running. Which makes it hard to chew and swallow. The reasons I’m enjoying such cuisine at this junction are 1) they’re out of energy gels, and what better substitute? 2) the pizza will likely be quite cold when I finish in an hour and a half when I finish, and I prefer it hot, and 3) I’m hungry. ((I later learn the it’s Jets Detroit-style pizza. No wonder it’s so good.))

Mile 19 – Rim to Rim to Rim? That’s amazing. Ultrarunners do some amazing things, but they never cease to astound me. I’m running a couple of the loops with Danielle, whom I’ve just met. Danielle only got back from her Grand Canyon adventure a few short days ago. And here she is, guiding me along. I never get tired of stories like this.

Mile 15.5 – I’d best zoom right through. I’m ten loops in, and I have the option to quit at this point. I’d get credit for completing 25K, and I’d even still get my medal. And I’ve been telling anyone who would listen that after being sick with a bad cold all week, 25K would be plenty for me this day. And on a loop course like this, it sure is easy to quit. On the other hand, I’m feeling pretty decent at this juncture. Maybe I can finish the whole enchilada after all. I zoom right through.

Mile 2.7 - It’s awfully lonely out here. Most of the 50K runners are ahead – way ahead – and I am only seeing three or four behind me. What’s that noise coming from further behind? Some of the fast kids are lapping me already! I try not to let that bother me; I’ve got to run my own race today. It’ll be a miracle if I make the entire 50K, but at least I made it to the start.

P.S. Munroe Falls Metro Park is nice and peaceful. Race Director Nicole Gareri and her crew did a wonderful job with the race. Although the 50K was small, the 25K and relay were well attended and the whole event was a lot of fun.

My overall time was 5:25, for an average pace of 10:30. It’s a decent time for me, even though it’s still fairly far down the list of finishers. But had you asked a week or two ago, I’d have told you that just finishing a 50K, not to mention with a time of under 5:30, would be an accomplishment. 

Yes, the remaining pizza was cold.

November Sky

There were plenty of objects in the sky to observe this morning, during our Tuesday Track workout. First, there was the usual Orion show; always a crowd-pleaser. Then, there were all the other stars and constellations; they're great this time of year. Today, we had a shooting star, aimed (apparently) at the star, Arcturus; that was a sight. But of course, the main attraction today was the lunar eclipse. It reached totality at about 6:00 AM, just as it was beginning to get light, and as we were completing our run. Lastly, I was treated to a wonderful sunrise. Neat stuff.

Eclipsed moon setting

Nice sunrise a little later

The Longest Mile(s)

The longest miles of any run are nearly always the final ones. And such is the case today.

People (runners, that is) come and join the fun - 

At first it's just Dan, Chadwick, and Ella. Ella happens to be a four-legged runner, not that there's anything wrong with that. They run South from the Medina Square, out and back on the Champion Creek / Roscoe Ewing trail. Now there's a bunch more that join: Michelle, Andy, Harold, Debbie, Kelly, and Beth. (Note that last names are not being used here to protect the innocent. Not that there are any of those.)

People begin dropping like flies - 

After a four-mile sojourn on the new Medina Turkey Chase course, they return to the Square once again. "Sojourn" is probably the wrong word. This portion of the run is actually quite fast, at least for Dan. Beth has to go, but the everyone else does the Champion Creek / Roscoe Ewing trail out-and-back once again. Now, it's time for Harold, Debbie, and Kelly to take off, leaving Andy, Michelle, Chadwick, Ella, and Dan. A couple additional, final miles, and it's time for everyone to leave.

Alone again, naturally - 

Everyone, that is, except Dan. Dan has to do at least three more in order for this to be considered a long run. Why is that important, you ask? Dan wouldn't be able to articulate an answer. Maybe because he needs one to train for next week's 50K. How hard can just three additional miles be?

Quite hard - 

Yes, Dan struggles trying to run alone after everybody else is gone. On extremely rare occasions, he can turn these final (longest) miles into good ones. Today is not such a day. Today, they are long. He gets over to the Claggett Track, where they will at least be on a soft surface.

Get back - 

It's not all quite as bad as it seems here, but getting back up to the Square is still a struggle. Dan manages to get there, somehow.

Rock Hall Half Marathon Race Report

It's wonderful when you are able to finish strong. Today was not one of those days. 

But it wasn't completely awful, either.

I've been doing a lot of my training with John Hnat, so it made sense that we ran more or less together through mile eight or nine. This is the most scenic part of the course, through Rockefeller Park. Most of the mile splits had been in the 8:30 range, give or take, but by about halfway, we'd picked it up a little from there.

John kept it going, and he finished strong. I did not. The slightly faster pace was just a bit too much for me, and I had to slow things back down. But I didn't die completely; I managed to keep the last few mile splits in the 8:40's. My time was 1:51:55, good for first in my ancient age group.

It was a perfect Autumn day for running in downtown Cleveland. After Rockefeller Park, the course took us along Lake Erie, and this part was nice as well. It's also fun to start and finish in front of the Rock Hall. It was also nice to see so many friends before, during, and after the race. It's definitely a keeper.

Road Trip Running

We're on a road trip to visit the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Hot Springs Arkansas, and Vicksburg National Battlefield in Mississippi. 

The first run is in Vandalia, IL. It's an hour outside of St. Louis, and there ain't much happening. Not in the small town, or in regards to my brief run. But at least I get a couple of miles in.

Here in Hot Springs, AR, I had planned to get more than a couple of miles in. As usual, I'd examined the charts using Google Maps. As usual, I'd looked for nice and safe, yet adventuresome places to explore. And guess what? The roads around the lakes and rivers actually worked out today. It winds up being a pretty decent, albeit slow, run today. I only hope I can get up to double digits tomorrow.

I'm running in circles. It stinks of 1) a dead animal, 2) diesel fumes from trucks far and near, and 3) some kind of pervasive bad smell from paper mills. The thing I'm running around is dead, itself: the Pines Mall in Pine Bluff, AR. It's spooky and scary in the darker areas, which are many. And yet, it's going fairly well. I've managed to finally get down to something like tempo pace for four of the last five miles, and I'm going to get ten, total today. The pollution probably made the run more health - harmful than - helpful, but I'll just choose to ignore that concern. It's the best run of the bunch.

Vicksburg would probably be a nice place to run. If only I could get down to the river, but I just don't have the time today. Only enough for a short run toward some ball parks. Okay, it'll do.

One final run: Elizabethtown, just a stop on the way home. After I get away from the large assortment of chain hotels, fast food joints, and gas stations, I discover an actual park. Of all things. It's almost as if there's a real town here. I'm only running a couple miles, so I don't do all that much exploring. Maybe next time I come through.

Tooting my own horn again

This marks two consecutive Sunday Hinckley runs, although today it was only one 9-mile loop, compared with last week's two. But today's run follows the long one I did yesterday, so I was happy to be able to run at all. Not only that, but I was able to finish strong. Even though the final two and a half miles are downhill, it still feels great to be able to do it.

The Hinckley nine is run clockwise. Blue is slow; red is fast. The hills help (and hurt).

While I'm tooting this horn of mine, permit me to go on a little further. Someone mentioned in passing that I must have good age-graded running results. I had seen my age-graded percentage in the past, but haven't considered it recently. Until today, that is. It appears that the Akron Marathon calculates this data and includes it in its results.

I'm only near the bottom of their top 50, with an age-graded percentage of 68.5%. Using this factor, my 3:59 marathon equates to 2:59. That's just one minute off my 2:58 marathon personal best. Also, I think my age-graded percentage has been in this same range even in the distant past. So, all in all, not too shabby.

Akron Marathon age-graded results

Okay, enough tooting. I'll go back to my usual humble self now.

The What's the Point Award

It's the early 1990s, and home computing is still somewhat new. Newer still are "windows" with a small 'w', part of a 'Graphical User Interface.' At an Apple user conference, one guy proudly displays his ability to get a screen saver to run within a window. Previously, screen savers would only exist on entire screens. The other conferees subsequently give this person a "What's the Point Award." This takes the form of a six-pack of Caffeine-free Diet Mountain Dew.

During a break between today's six-mile loops on the Lester Rail Trail, my friends see me drinking a Mountain Dew, one that is caffeinated and sugared. They are surprised that I would consume such a disgusting thing. I explain that I don't usually partake; the last time I had one was at the 1996 Towpath Marathon. I don't think they believe me.

I also explain that the only reason I have this one was that it came free with last night's Little Caesars dinner that we shared with the grandkids.

The 1996 Towpath Marathon occurred after that Apple user conference. It is one that I remember well. I drank two 16-ounce high-test Mountain Dews before the race. It was a beautiful fall day, and I ran well. It was the last of seven times that I broke three hours. I'm not sure how much credit I should give to the soda, but it sure didn't hurt. Regardless of its value as a running hack, I hate the stuff; it truly is disgusting. I really believe that I haven't had one during these past 26 years.

Once again, however, I can say that it does not hurt my shot at getting in a decent long run today. With the help of my friends, I get three plus loops done, for twenty miles. It's not super fast, but it's at least decent, and I will take it.

Now, I'll have to recover in time for tomorrow's hilly Hinckley run. I'll do it without Dew.

Those slings and arrows

Slings and arrows of outrageous fortune are the very worst kinds. Today's outrageous fortune includes being still tuckered out after Sunday's Hinckley ordeal, yesterday's two runs, and today's weather. Yup, it's cold rain again. And wind as well.

4:02 - It's my first of 10 800s, and it's not too awful. I thought I'd be alone in this pitiful weather, but Frank Dwyer has made a surprise appearance. Not that he's doing the same workout as me, but it's nice to have company on the track. Except that now I'll have to remain honest.

4:05 - Whoa. That's going in the wrong direction. For Yasso workouts of yore, the first one was allowed to be slightly slower than the rest. Just a few weeks ago, my conditioning was such that, like today, the first might be just a little bit slower than four minutes, but then the next nine would all be in the 3:50s. Looks like that won't happen today. But maybe I can still turn this into a halfway decent workout.

4:07 - Whoa. Slower still! I didn't even think that would be possible.

4:10 - Okay, this is getting ridiculous. I'm dying here, and the cold rain just started back up. Enough suffering these slings and arrows. Better to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them. (That means I should probably quit.) Let me try to at least do five. That would be fairly respectable, right?

4:11 - I think I really got in under 4:10, but my cold fingers malfunctioned when I tried to engage my watch's lap button. I'm still suffering, but now I'm thinking that I ought to at least try to do six today. 

4:14 - Well, I'm slowing down even more, yet I think I may be able to continue this nonsense even a little bit longer.

4:12 - Hey - real improvement. Woohoo. Now that the rain has subsided a little, I'm going to try to finish all 10, and I'm even going to try to decrease the recovery, taking that all the way down from 400 meters to 300. Why do that, you ask? Because it will enable me to finish faster and get the heck out of here earlier. Feels like I haven't left since last week's run here.

4:18 - I guess a 300-meter recovery wasn't such a good idea after all. But let me try another.

4:32 - Now, I'm absolutely sure that shorter recoveries are not a good thing. Not when all the other slings and arrows of outrageous fortune are also against you. But lookyahere: there's only one more 800 to go! I run a full lap along with Frank, and we talk a bit.

4:23 - Somehow, I've done it. 10 800s, in spite of everything. 

Hey, maybe I should keep these things going?

The Second Loop

About a month ago, Dan ran the Hinckley 9-mile loop (the one with the hills from hell) for the first time in over a year.  John Hnat, had joined him then, and later suggested a two-loop attempt. That's crazy-talk, thought Dan, but he nevertheless went along with the suggestion for today's run. That's one thing you can indeed say about Dan: he abides.

The first loop had been run mostly with Theresa Wright. They'd fought the wind and rain/sleet/show mixture to crawl back to the Spillway. Now, along with fellow two-loopers John and Julie Boggs, as well as fresh, new folks Harold Dravenstott and Bob Pokorny, it's time to do it again. Dan had barely completed that first hilly loop; how the hell can he do it again? 

The intrepid group ponders their way up Bellus once more. They're all breathing hard and heavy. This shit is getting real. Despite the pain and fatigue, Dan doesn't fail to notice the splendid fall foliage that's apparent in the morning light now that the sun has risen.

After Bellus comes the downs and up (big up) of Parker Road, followed by the rollers of Ledge Road, and then, after five miles of torture... ((drum-roll))... Effie. Dan can only manage to run up as far as the MIA flag, and then he has to walk. But he continues to notice the beautiful autumn leaves as he slowly makes his way up.

At the top, he feels surprisingly good. He begins to run again, and he even enjoys it a little. Just a little. Soon though, he's running as fast as he has for the entire day. There are three and a half miles to go, but it's mostly downhill from here on. He catches up with John, and they talk and talk enough to complete the journey without further pain or mishap.

That second loop wound up being much faster than the first. Daylight helps. So does abiding.

Mindlessness

Mindfulness is the self-help topic du-jour nowadays, and it is the subject of many a book and article. But today, the subject of this post is the opposite thing: Mindlessness.

I'm running around on the track, circle after circle. After circle! It's arguably the most mindless of all of my running, and that includes all those mindless mill miles. This beats those because there isn't even a TV to distract me.

Dan Stock had met me for the day's Tuesday Track session. Although we've had several additional folks for some of these runs, today it's Dan and Dan, and that's it. After a warmup, we ran 10 x 400 meters, with 100-meter recoveries. I like this workout because you get to run exactly 5K, and besides the 400s,  you can check this overall time when you're done. We do manage to get through the ordeal, so now, we're truly done.

But done ain't the half of it. Dan left after a mile cooldown, so now it's just me and the track. Oh, did I say I was done after that interval running? Well, I surely was. But... The bad part is that I desired my total mileage to be ten miles or more today, and that means I still have three to go. Three more mindless miles around the oval. Three more miles after I was done.

Somehow, I do it. Now I'm well done. And as mindless as ever.

Moonset - photos on the run

The sun was rising whilst the full moon was setting. I had returned home to get the camera, and was now back out, running around nearby Heritage Farm. To sum the morning up: lousy running, but pretty vistas.

Almost

It was almost a runner's high run today. After everyone else left (we did a couple back-and-forth loops along Lake Medina), I was on my own to get my total up to ten miles. Steam was rising off the warmer-than-air lake and it was beginning to get light. Even though I was running painfully slow, it did occur to me that it doesn't get much better than this. At least almost never. It just don't.

Enough

When is enough enough?

Of course, the answer is, when it's enough.

It was today after about five and a half miles, but I went on to do a couple more. It probably was, after yesterday's morning run, but I went on to meet some folks for a short evening run as well. And it probably was, after yesterday's evening run, such that I hardly needed to show up at all today.

But, it turned out that I did get Something of Substance done on the track. 10 x 400 with 100 recoveries, for a total of 5K of fun. 

SOS. It's better than nothing. And it's enough.

Danielle's run on the Towpath

Hello. Gender-fluid Danielle here. You can call me Dan, Danny, Daniel, Danielle, Daniella, or anything else you wish. My preferred pronoun is Shithead.

A little more seriously, I suppose I’m really binary (male, I think), and not gender-fluid. I do enjoy the company of other binary and non-binary people, although I don’t know very many of the latter. I like to have a little fun with pronouns and such (my spouse provided mine) but I mean no disrespect to anyone having usual or unusual pronouns or genders.

What does all this have to do with today’s run? Absolutely nothing. Here’s that story.

Shithead and Larry Orwin show up at the Station Road parking area at the same time and fight it out for first dibs on the restroom. They then take off toward Peninsula in the early morning darkness. It’s been a long time since they’ve run together, and there is a lot to catch up on. Larry talks about recent travels and an upcoming race. Shithead relates travel and some running stories as well.

After a little more than an hour, they arrive at Lock 29 in central Peninsula. There, as they’re about to turn back, they bump into and talk with Jim O’Connor. Other runners also come and go along the way. It’s now getting light, and Shithead realizes that Shithead is doing most of the storytelling. Too bad for Larry, although he doesn’t seem to mind. Shithead supposes that Larry abides, just like Shithead’s other running friends.

With another race coming up soon, Larry decides that 14 miles is enough for him this day. Shithead bids him goodbye and then continues running. Shithead planned on twenty miles today, so six more will do it. But Shithead’s legs are still sore and tired from last week’s effort. Can Shithead do it?

Shithead does! It wasn’t completely pretty, but twenty miles is twenty miles.

Now, next week starts the big push.

Reflections

When it takes you an hour and a half to run your six-mile route, you have a lot of time to reflect on things.

Why so slow? It’s what happens a couple days after an all-out effort, like Akron. So let’s start with that.

Effort: Boy, was that hard. I would like to be able to say that at least the first half (which I ran faster than my recent half-marathon only efforts) was easy, but even that wasn’t. It was hilly, and I would have to say that it took much more effort than it should have. The next 3-4 miles on the Towpath were okay, but then the hills got ridiculous. I still don’t know how in the world I managed to do it.

Speaking of the World: I’ve been walking this planet for many decades now. In that time, I’ve traveled to downtown Akron perhaps a few dozen times. I swear that none of those times – not one – has seen the city without any major construction projects. When I say major, I mean BIG. And it’s not just the freeways (although they’re still part of this mix), it’s also the important downtown city streets.

The Akron Marathon: Having said all this, the folks at the Akron Marathon do have their stuff together. The race is well loved by runners, and that’s for good reason: they do a great job.

Friends: If you’re away from the racing scene like I’ve been, for any period of time, you may forget how much you’ve missed your friends. Until you make a comeback and see them all once again. I do see some friends during my weekday and weekend training runs, and that’s all great. But I see all of them and many more during a big race like Akron. And it’s wonderful.

Sub-Four: I’m not sure how sub-four-hour marathon times became a goal, but I suppose it’s for the same reason that sub-three times were two and a half decades ago. In fact, it was Fall, 1996 when I did my last sub-three at the Towpath Marathon. Now, I’m quite happy and proud with being an hour slower. Oh, how the times can change.

Where from here (1): My left hip hurts. The pain is hard to describe because it seems to be deep inside. Sometimes I feel it when I run (I did in Akron), but moreso other times. Like when I put my pants, shorts, or underwear on. To do this, you have to bend over and lift each leg up and forward a little in order to get that foot through the hole. This started to be a problem for me little by little over the past couple years. A big running effort like a marathon seems to exacerbate the pain. I’m trying to fix it the best I can with core exercises. But I’m aware that it probably won’t go away completely. And of course it will slow me down some, at least for a while. Wish I knew what it was.

Where from here (2): I’m registered for Loop the Lake 50K in November. And now I just signed up for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Half-Marathon at the end of October. Should I try to do some others as well? I do know that I need a rest. Maybe right now is the best time for that.

Akron Marathon 2022 Race Report

Mile 24: I began my Erie Marathon Race Report at mile 24, so why not do it again? Lots of things seem to happen at that point.

It's about this point where we make the turn onto West Market Street in order to move on to the finish. I suddenly notice that something about my shoe is scraping the ground, no matter how much I lift my feet. Those $250 Nikes must be falling apart. I don't think it's a problem, but I'll have to lift my feet higher still. Not my usual style, but I will have to deal with it.

What does seem to be a problem is that I don't think I'm going to make it. According to my watch, I hit mile 24 at 3:38:20. That should be plenty fine for my goal to get under four hours today. But maybe not. There's always the rest of the story.

Julie Boggs, Maureen Oblander, me, Michelle Wolff, Theresa Wright (photo: Julie)

The weather has been nearly perfect: 50s and 60s with a lot of clouds and no wind. I'd been a little concerned that that 13-day-ago Erie Marathon would slow me down, but I don't know whether that can be a legitimate excuse. 

What definitely can be a legitimate excuse are these here Akron mountains. Around halfway, the course turned onto the Towpath, and I remarked to Theresa Wright that it seemed like the old course. Theresa, who ought to know, indicated that it was. Oh oh. Although the first half was hilly, we'd come through in a stellar 1:57, but I now knew that the best was yet to come.

Just like in old times, we emerge from the Towpath somewhere after mile 16, and then make our way up through Sand Run Metropark. Up is the key word here. There definitely be mountains here. Big mountains. They ease up a little, and then they start again. And again and again. They don't quit until we run through Stan Hywet at about mile 23.

Said hills had slowed me down a whole heck of a lot. But now I know that the final two-plus miles are mostly downhill. Yay. 

My Nikes

The thing is, I don't know whether I can pick up the pace again. And I know that I have to pick it up a whole lot, because, much to my dismay, my mile 24 is a good 0.2 miles from the Akron Marathon mile 24. I always try to run the tangents, but things like this happen, and the extra distance can mean a couple of minutes added to my overall time. A couple of minutes that I do not have.

All I can do is try. Maybe picking up my feet due to the dragging shoes is a good thing. I run a 9:01 mile, then an 8:29 mile, and then, turning onto South Main Street for the final 0.41 mile, I manage to keep the pace up enough to just barely run sub-four hours.

What a relief.

Nice to see all my friends though!

Julie, me, and Theresa (photo: Theresa)

Weather or not

 It's Friday night, the eve of the Akron Marathon. As I've stated here about my previous race, the Hay is in the Barn. It applies here as well; preparation is over and there's nothing more to do. There is the concern about the weather, however. The problem? It may be too good. WHAT am I going to do for excuses?

Running in the U.P.

Munising

We're up north once again. This time, our mission is to visit Isle Royale National Park and to take the scenic boat ride to see the Pictured Rocks. Today, it's Munising and the Rocks. 

I am on the watch for aurora borealis. It's cold, and unfortunately, mostly cloudy. From the Holiday Inn Express, I run southwest towards downtown Munising. I reach it in 3 miles, then continue through town towards Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. I make it to the visitor center and entrance just when I need to turn back at 5 miles.

It's beginning to get lighter now. I pick up the pace a little on the way back. Coming back through town, I stop for another photo with a nice fellow I find on the corner.

As I get back to the HI, I'm treated to a nice sunrise over Lake Superior.

The other part of the journey doesn't happen. Our trip to Isle Royale is canceled due to bad weather. So this run is it for this trip. 

Maybe next year.

Erie Marathon Race Report, Beginning at Mile 24

Mile 24: 

Less than optimal. That's what a coworker used to say in reference to a situation (or project, in some cases) that didn't go quite as well as hoped or planned. I can say that today's weather is less than optimal for a marathon. The rain has been constant, sometimes lighter and sometimes heavier, but always one or the other. And now there are puddles galore. But I suppose it could have been worse. Although the rain includes humidity, I'm happy to say that it never got much warmer than around 70 degrees.

That said, I'm doing fairly well. Sub-four hours had somehow become a goal, and at 3:37:00 for Mile 24, I'm right on pace. All I have to do is maintain the current 9:00 to 9:20 pace for the final two-plus miles. And although it seems to be getting a little difficult, I firmly believe that I can do it. Unless, that is, something goes horribly wrong.

Mile 24.1:

Ouch. Well, that's interesting. I feel a minor tingle of pain in my right hamstring. It's the slightest sign of a cramp. But I'm not worried. I just have to keep on moving.

Mile 24.2:

Ouch. Another tingle of pain. It occurs to me that a smart runner would read these signs and slow down a little in order to avoid any major cramping. But no one has accused me of being smart. I've got to keep this pace going.

I should say that I was smart enough to take electrolyte pills throughout the race. I'm not sure why they aren't working, but I'll just figure that out at the finish. I should also mention that I've enjoyed seeing many new and old friends here, but many of them have been reduced to less-than-optimal performances, mainly due to the weather. What is working for me are my new Nike ZoomX Vaporfly NEXT% 2 shoes. They feel great, and I believe they've helped me get this far at this pretty-good pace.

Mile 24.4:

Okay, I've gone more than a tenth of a mile without any leg cramp issues. Maybe it's a non-issue. 

I reflect some more on how well things have been going for me. The Erie Runners Club puts it on, and they do a marvelous job. It's become a big race, but they attend to every conceivable detail. And the course itself is also a star. Presque Isle juts out into Lake Erie, and the route takes runners around two times. I wrote about it when I ran the 2017 edition, so check that out here.

The classic course: two 13-mile loops

 

Mile 24.5:

EEEEEOOOOW! My right hamstring ties itself up into a very painful knot. I have to completely stop all forward motion. People run by and provide encouragement. They include the 4:00 pace group. "Stretch it out, they say as they go by." Stretch? I am going to die; what's the point in stretching? And it's not just my right hamstring, it's now the left one, too. Within a couple seconds, I've gone from "I think I can run under four hours," to, "I don't know if I can finish at all."

Mile 24.6:

Okay, I am managing to walk a little. Just a little. I find it interesting that some other runners are experiencing the same thing at the same point in the race. I think others have hit this point earlier, so I should consider myself lucky. 

But I don't.

Mile 24.7:

After what seems like forever, I begin to jog once again. I can still see the 4:00 pace group way up ahead. But they're pulling away even more now.

Mile 26.0:

I believe I ran all of the previous mile. But it was pretty darn slow. 

Even though I fully recognize that a marathon is 26.2 miles, and not 26.0 miles, I still try to get under four hours for this milestone. I miss by around 30 seconds.

Mile 26.4:

Yes, that's a little long, but that's typical for an accurately measured course. I cross the line with a chip time of 4:04. I did not place in my ancient age group.

Just for fun, here is my pace info. Notice the point where I stopped completely.

Hay in the barn

You've done all the training, and now the Big Race is only days (or perhaps a week or two) away. More hard training would likely not provide any further benefit, and may well hurt your chances of optimal performance during your Main Event. Runners refer to this situation as the hay is in the barn. 

It's in the barn for me, and that's why I'm not concerned that yesterday's long, hot, group run was somewhat of a stinker. Today's run was similarly less than optimal. Everything is fine. More hay couldn't be stuffed in my barn anyway; it's full.

Erie is a week away. The long-range forecast is for a high of 73 with a chance of rain. I'll mostly be concerned about the humidity. Not to mention the humility.

Tuesday Track

Everyone knows that Tuesdays are for track workouts. And everyone knows that they begin at 5:00 AM at Claggett Middle School. But does everyone know how much fun these runs are? 

Some do. There are seven of us today, so count us among those in the know. Seven is around average, but it's surprising today since there's rain in the forecast. Assuming said rain occurs later rather than earlier, Dan the Overachiever shows, but arrives a half-hour early. He doesn't want to miss this one.

Although the rain has indeed held off, you can cut the humidity with a knife. The Wolffs (who have also been known to overachieve) arrive as Dan is completing his warmup. Today's agenda calls for a Yasso workout: ten 800s. Dan's been doing these every other week. It's always a challenge.

The first one is always a shock. Today, the second, third, and all the rest are as well. The humidity makes it very tough. Dan the Overachiever takes his time in between the 800s; he needs the rest. But somehow, he manages to complete all ten. His times are consistent; all just under four minutes. It's what he was aiming for.