Somethin' heavy hit me like an atomic bomb - redux

Meanwhile back in the jungle

The boys in the jungle had me on the run
When something heavy hit me like an atomic bomb
When I woke up and my head started to clear
I had a strange feeling I was with cooking gear
I smelled something cookin' and I looked to see
That's when; I found out they was a cookin' me
Great Cuckoo let me outta here...

These are some of the lyrics from Stranded in the Jungle, the 1950s song by the Cadets. That line, something heavy hit me like an atomic bomb was front and center in my mind today, as it was in April when I posted something just like this one. That time, it was about a final mile I struggled with. This time, it's been every mile I've tried to run since I returned home a few days ago. The problem this time is a sinus infection that I picked up whilst I was away.

It's been nasty. I just feel lousy, even as most of my congestion is now going away. My strength, such as it was, has not returned. I've been telling myself that eight miles is the new ten (since I used to run about ten a day, and now eight just about kills me) and that ten is the new twenty (because the ten I did the day after I got home felt like a marathon or more). 

At least I don't have any upcoming races to be concerned with. I'm registered for the Veterans Marathon in November, but I already know that I can't make it to that one. Time to start thinking more about next year instead.

Ship happens

The 18-day cruise from Rome to Lisbon produced the expected results: much less running than usual (about half) and much more eating than usual (about double). This, in turn, resulted in the usual gain of a pound a day. Now let me see... a pound a day for 18 days... How many is that? Oh, never mind. I'll figure it out sometime, and/or I'll weigh myself.

Although there were a few days where I managed to run on dry land, those were few and far between, because we were busy with other stuff most of the time. In addition, those runs were short - only a few miles for those same reasons, as well as this one: I often had already gotten my early morning run in for the day. If you've concluded that my running for this time period was somewhat less than optimal, you would be correct.

Here's a rundown of a typical Dan run on the MS Sirena.

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 one again. Now it's only five 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. 

And that's it. I will say that running outside has the advantage of being in the fresh sea air, watching the sun rise, and observing our visitation to a port or two. My running will, I hope, not take too very long to get back to normal. Then it will be time to travel again.

A rare run on dry land. This one is on Tenerife in the Canary Islands.

Drake Well Marathon Race Report

First of all, Dan would like to point out that he developed three goals for today's race:

A) Sub 3:50 would be very nice. He ran a 3:49 three years ago, B.S. (Before Surgery). Such a feat would very much be a stretch, however.

B) 3:55. Dan would like to point out that he ran this time in Tallahassee, about eight months ago.

C) 3:59. Or, at least, just finishing in a vertical fashion (okay, maybe that's a D goal).

The alarm had gone off at 2:30, and after some coffee and beet juice, Dan was in the car by 3:30. He arrived a little after 6:00; plenty of time to check in, stretch out, and get ready to go. Dan would like to point out that after this and some similar experiences, he may decide to stop using the beet juice. It may work, a little, but it also seems to work in other ways. Ways that forced Dan to make a stop along the way, and another as he arrived. Hopefully, his tummy has now settled down as the race is about to start.

Dan would like to point out that Titusville, Pennsylvania, home of the Drake Well Museum and Park to celebrate the first successfully drilled oil well, is incredibly scenic. Dan couldn't see much during his dark ride in, but now the sun is coming up as the 7:00 race start approaches, and it's gorgeous. The museum and park are surrounded by huge hills, and the misty fog is rising between them as it begins to warm up.

Dan would like to point out that warming up is not necessarily a good thing. It's in the 50s right now - cool and comfy. It won't stay that way. Dan struggles to run nine-minute miles for his first few. It should be easier, he thinks. But somehow, by the time he completes the in-town loops (miles 1-7), he settles into a little bit of a rhythm. 

The Drake Well Marathon is a cupless race. Runners are provided with a collapsable cup that they are to carry in order to receive refills at the aid stations. Dan is extremely focused on environmental factors, including litter. Thousands of cups all over is not a good thing, so Dan gets it. However, he still does not like carrying this dumb cup thing. He tries to stuff it in his pocket, but then spends gobs of time getting it in and out, and even drops it once. He finally decides to just carry it and eventually gets the hang of using it. It STILL forces him to stop completely for the refills, however.

Miles 8-26 are on the Oil Creek Bike Trail. What a beauty! The trail is mostly above and alongside the creek, and it's about as scenic as you can get. Dan loves every minute of this. It's a small race, and everyone is friendly. Dan says hi, and good job to everyone coming and going. The half-marathon turnaround is at mile 10, and the full turnaround is at mile 16.5. But before we get there,,,

Dan would like to point out that the beet juice wasn't done with him. He begins debating the pros and cons of stopping in the woods, when a wonderful thing presents itself: a porta-john! After powdering his nose, Dan realizes that he's lost several minutes. That's not all that big a deal for a marathon, but it causes Dan to reach the 13-mile mark in right around two hours. It would have been at least a couple of minutes faster, otherwise.

At Tallahassee, Dan ran the first half in around two hours, and the second half in about 1:55. Could he repeat that today. It is getting warmer and warmer as he reaches the turnaround. But Dan would like to point out that his mile splits have improved, Now, they're mostly in the 8:40 range.

Dan begins to slow down a little with about five miles to go. Maybe it's the heat, or maybe just general fatigue from trying to pick up the pace. Even though it's warm now (mid-70s), the trail is very well-shaded, and that surely helps. Dan passes a handful of other runners, but it's mostly pretty lonely out here. One of the guys he passes is even north of Dan's own advanced age. Imagine that. Another is a high-school kid who winds up finishing the final couple miles together with Dan.

Dan would like to point out that this race is about as good as it gets for scenery, fun, and overall joy of running. Dan's time, 3:55:34, is within a second or two of his time at Tallahassee. He's first in his ancient age group. Now, all he has to do is drive two and a half hours back home.

Dan would like to point out that he actually had a cheering section for this race: his peeps back at Hinckley sent him some good vibes. It worked.

All dressed up, nowhere to go

Danny-boy shows up at the Lester trailhead at 5:00 A.M. as usual for a Friday. He runs the first six-mile loop with his friends as usual. At this point, he's finally fully awake and ready/able to run some more - more six-mile loops - ... as usual.

But he doesn't! Instead, he says goodbye to his friends, stretches for a minute, fixes up his anti-sweat car seat cover, gets in his car, and heads home. This, and it hasn't even gotten light yet. He arrives back home at 6:30, and the sun has still not yet risen. This isn't too usual. Not usual, at all. Danny-boy will need to figure out what to do with himself considering all this extra time he has on his hands.

It was just a week ago when Danny-boy ran his final long run to prepare for this upcoming marathon. On other occasions, he's written about the Hay being in the barn. That analogy certainly applies here as well. Now, the famous Drake Well Marathon is just two short days away. 

Yes, everything is ready to go. Except for the weather. The forecast is for hot (80s) weather in Titusville this Sunday. Danny-boy obsesses about that. He shouldn't.

He should chill.

Last Long One

Should you do your final long run two weeks, or three weeks prior to your marathon?

How about one week? Okay, one week and two days, to be exact. I'd originally planned to keep today's mileage somewhat south of the eighteen-mile long-run barrier. I failed. But hey, I had my reasons. The main one being that my friends, Michelle Kelly-Daum, Shannon Barnes, Chadwick Sunday, and Ella were doing all or most of it with me. Another reason is that I had just looked up my just-prior-to-marathon training in my running log for recent races. Turns out, I always do this. I just forgot.

How did the run go, you ask? While I did not set the world on fire (it already is), I'd have to answer, not half bad. Lester Rail Trail was the venue, and I and my friends (except for Speedy-Shannon, who finished very strong) mostly stayed at a pretty steady pace. It felt good, so I'll take it. What other choice was there?

Hofbrauhaus Half Marathon Race Report

It isn't ideal conditions. Low 70s and humid at the start, and upper 70s and humid by later on in the run. At least the sun is not out. I suppose it's okay; this isn't an 'A' race anyway.

Walking for hours around the Cleveland Zoo to witness the Asian Lantern Festival and not getting to sleep until close to midnight was not optimal. But I suppose it's okay; this isn't an 'A' race anyway.

Running a challenging 18-miler with my friends two days ago (they were the ones who made it challenging, by the way) wasn't the best idea for today's race. I guess that's alright; this isn't an 'A' race anyway.

I didn't even don my Nike Alphafly magic shoes; just the Saucony Endorphin Pro 2 nearly magic ones. Shouldn't be too big a deal; this isn't an 'A' race anyway.

By now, you get the picture that this is more of a 'B'-ish type of race. I only want to run a steady pace. AN average of 9 minutes per mile would be nice. I was thinking about such goals, modest as they are, during my drive downtown this morning, when the radio plays, You Can't Always Get What You Want, by the Rolling Stones. I wondered whether I should be concerned. Maybe the morning's shot of beet juice will help.

I manage to find my friend, Larry Orwin before the race. We warm up a bit. but it's already pretty warm. We agree to try to find each other afterward. As the race starts, I fall into an 8:45 or so per mile pace. Suddenly, my goal of averaging 9 minutes per mile morphs into keep all the miles faster than 9 minutes. That is a little more challenging. Actually, much more.

The course takes us along Chester Avenue and eventually down through the Cleveland Cultural Gardens of Rockefeller Park. It's similar to the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame course. I love it. As I reach half-way at around 57 minutes, my main concern is whether I can hold it together, especially with miles 9 and 10 being slightly uphill.

Although those miles are indeed slower than the rest, they're still under nine minutes. Now back on Chester, I can push it for the final three miles.

Pedal to the metal, here I go. I do pick it up, but I can't say I'm setting the world on fire; just 8:30-ish pace. I manage to cross the finish line in 1:52:47. 

First in my ancient age group. Not bad for a B race.

The Beet Goes On

My friend Chadwick Sunday sent me a comprehensive article about beet juice, Using Beet Juice to Improve Performance in TrainingPeaks. Besides, of course, my recent blog post, I think it's the best information about beet juice yet. 

Here is an update about my own experimentation. I've taken the reconstituted beet juice powder a few times now. Although the stuff appeared to work well for a particular long run, I wondered what it would do over a week or so. I'm now taking a tablespoon a day, at least most mornings. Would the buildup over several days or a week be helpful? I noted that some of the studies had participants take the stuff for one to two weeks. I'm not sure that I'm making any improvements yet. But I have a long run tomorrow and a half-marathon on Sunday, so we'll see.

One other thing: the taste. After mixing a tablespoon of the powder in a glass of water and trying to gulp it down first thing in the morning, it's all I can do to keep the stuff down. Someone mentioned that although it definitely tastes like beets, it also tastes like there is plenty of dirt and grass included in the mix as well. I think that's a fair description. But, this morning, I tried mixing it with vegetable juice. Guess what? It ain't so bad this way. In fact, it tasted like vegetable juice.  I'll keep at it.

Mugrage Morning Moonset

Just like yesterday. Just like several times in recent weeks. Just like five billion other times in my life, it happens again this morning. My friends have completed their running, and they've gone and left me all alone. And here I am, trying mightily to get a few more miles in. Most of the time when this happens, said extra miles are pretty darn awful. They may possibly be doing me more harm than good. But I am a numbers guy, and I generally aspire to more mileage.

Regarding how unpretty these miles truly are, there can be rare exceptions, and sometimes I'll post about those. Today is not one of them, however. Even though the first few loops around Mugrage Park were not super fast, these last few are surely super slow. Eventually, I decide to stop at the car and get my phone to photograph the nearly full, setting moon. Being photography-minded is a worthy distraction from poor running.

It works, sort of. Here are a couple pics.

2 x 5K

Danny Boy has completed his initial 5K track workout with moderate success. Said workout is made up of ten 400-meter repeats, with 100-meter recoveries. Add that up, and it makes 5,000 meters, AKA 5K. The idea is that you run the repeats at about 5K pace, but of course, slower for the recoveries. Although you can track the 400 times, they're not all-out. You also consider the overall time for the 5K. This would probably be slower than a road 5K, where there are no recoveries, but perhaps not all that far off.

'Moderate Success,' in this case, means that Danny Boy averaged around 1:54 for his 400s, and that his overall time was 26:40. 

Danny Boy is keen on talking about how he used to do a version of this workout that entailed twenty 400s, rather than ten, That added up to 10,000 meters, a 10K workout. Not that his running partners care all that much, but Danny Boy no longer feels up to this much speedwork. 

Or does he? Now that his friends have wisely finished for the day, he starts back up again. A short ten minutes ago, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to run anymore at all, much less another intensive set of ten 400s. The mid-workout coffee may have helped him get (re)started.

The first 400 is well North of two minutes, and the next couple are only slightly better. But then something funny happens. Danny Boy picks up the pace to nearly that of those first ten. Perhaps the coffee kicked in even more. He winds up with an average 400 time of 1:58, and 27:41 for the 5K. That's a minute slower than the first set, but still not bad.

Although his running was by no means outstanding, Danny Boy is feeling pretty good about himself right now. He had better watch out for that reality hammer about to club him on the head.

A wee bit of redemption

 

Double loop finishers Julie Boggs and Dan Horvath

If it's Hinckley, this must be Sunday. Yes, the hills are alive here, especially when you do two (9-mile) loops. Theresa and Katherine joined Julie and I for the first nine, but for the second one, it was just the two of us. After a poor outcome on Friday, we both managed to complete the double today. The cooler weather sure helped. But so did the companionship.

A Y among double-X's

Why o why did it have to happen this way? On its surface, getting all hot and sweaty with a bunch of beautiful women would be the dream of many a young man, such as myself. For a while this morning, it did seem like a dream. Until it (suddenly) didn't. You might say that turned into a nightmare.

New guy Steve wisely calls it a day after the first loop, but now Julie, Shannon, Debbie, Kelly, Katherine, and I were joined by Sarah and Theresa. In case you're bad at math, that's seven lovely ladies... and me. I'm not thinking too very much about these gender issues (although the subject does arise in the conversation). I'm thinking of just getting through today's planned long run. It's getting quite warm as we begin our second six. Now, it gets serious.

As for excuses, I have a bunch. Would you like to hear them? Of course, you would. Yesterday's run at Mugrage was as soupy as it gets. Seven miles did me in for the day. So did the afternoon yard work and beer sampling. This morning had started with an attempt to guzzle beet juice and coffee. Neither went down well. I was still not entirely good when we started our 5:00 A.M. run on this warm and humid Friday.

A half-mile or so into this second loop, I begin to feel like myself again. Maybe the beet juice and caffeine are starting to kick in. I try to take the lead at times so that I can slow everyone down (we're on the Lester Rail Trail, which isn't exactly narrow, but you can't have more than two or three abreast).  Other times, the faster folk take over and it's all I can do to stay with them. That's all kind of normal with this bunch.

What isn't quite so normal is me hitting the wall at around mile eleven. I drastically slow down, and I watch everyone slowly get smaller and nearly disappear in front of me. My pace goes from around 9:30 minutes per mile to 11 and then to 12. It's all I can do to shuffle back to the trailhead. I am done done (I used to use this terminology to refer to a work project as really and truly finished). I say goodbye and good luck to the intrepid three-loopers. 

Like junkies trying to plan their next hit of drugs, just minutes after a bad trip, Julie and I immediately begin plotting our next attempt at a long run: two loops at Hinckley this Sunday.

Beets me

For the first time in several years, I tried drinking beet root juice as I awoke. This was in order to help with today's run. It was a good long run for me; I would have to say that (other than tasting nasty) the stuff certainly didn't hurt, and it may well have helped. My friends seemed interested, so here's what I've learned about beet juice. 

I gather that beet juice, beetroot juice, and beet root juice are all different ways to refer to the same thing: juice made from beets. To me, adding the word root does nothing to enhance understanding or description, since beets are roots anyway. I'll not engage further in the redundancy and refer to it as beet juice from here on. I should add that I do like the taste of beets. I eat them cooked, canned, or pickled. I can't say that I like the taste of beet juice, however. It does taste like liquid beets, but in this form, at four-ish in the morning, yuch.

Here are the results of the research I did regarding beet juice.

1) Although beet juice provides several important nutrients, nitrates are considered the most important. According to Healthline, beets are healthy no matter how you prepare them. But juicing beets is a superior way to consume them because cooking beets reduces their nutritional value.

2) According to a WebMD article, the nitrates are converted by your body into nitric oxide, which helps with blood flow and blood pressure. Some additional benefits of beet juice in general are improved exercise stamina, improved muscle power in people with heart failure, possible slowing of the progression of dementia, possible help with maintaining a healthy weight, and possible help with the prevention of cancer. Note that better exercise stamina and improved muscle power may be of interest to runners.

3) In a Runners World article, Andrew Jones, Associate Dean of Research in the College of Life and Environmental Sciences at the University of Exeter, states that “Nitric oxide acts on muscle cells and blood vessels, and being able to produce more nitric oxide might both improve muscle efficiency (and therefore running economy) and improve blood blow to muscle,”

4) Several studies provide insight. One found that supplementing with beetroot juice at least six days prior to intense exercise or athletic events for improved stamina and recovery. Other research found that active healthy adults supplementing with beet juice for 15 days showed an increase in power and oxygen during sustained exercise. Determination of the best way to use beet juice may require some individual experimentation.

This is the powder form that I acquired from Amazon 

Although it's available to buy as a liquid, this morning's dose was in powder form. I mixed a tablespoon in a glass of water. I'm not sure whether anything is lost by using powder, but it's certainly less expensive. I'll keep using it and see what happens.

Finally, here is a blog post from a few years ago about a relatively successful marathon where I chugged the beet juice on the way up to the race in Erie.

One final thought: from my perspective, it's not possible to say for sure that any particular factor weighs more than any other in influencing running performance. There's simply too much going on. I don't do controlled experimentation. All I can say for sure is that it tasted awful, but it certainly didn't hurt me for today's run.

Airnow.gov

Airnow.gov is the website I use to check the air quality. I checked Airnow.gov this morning before heading over to the Tuesday Track session. The air now was in the "unhealthy" range: not so good. I'd hoped for better, especially since the forecast was calling for better air. Incidentally, I was calling for better air myself.

Yesterday's air now was even worse. It was so bad that I skipped running outside and stayed on the mill. That was no fun, and neither was today's early mill running. What I'd decided to do was to run some of the miles on the mill, a few easy ones at the track with the gang (but without breathing too very much), and then the rest back on the mill.

Once again, it was no fun. Except for the middle part.

UP-Scale Running

I don't do much up-scale running, but I do do running in the U.P. and that's what this post will be all about.

It's our second attempt to get to Isle Royale and this time we're gonna make it or else. After stopping in Chicago, we spend the night in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, where I do my first run, It isn't particularly fast, and it's not even pretty. Google Maps had displayed what looked like a bombed-out area, and I learn that that's because it is a bombed-out area. Bombed by the Wisconsin Army National Guard, no less. I didn't attempt to get too close, so back around the long way I went.

Our staging area for the ferry to Isle Royale is Copper Harbor, Michigan. It's at the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula. I am up and out early this morning. It's like old times: out the door before four. The reason? The ferry leaves at 8, but check-in is 45 minutes prior to that. Brekkie is 20 minutes before that. And shower and other preparation is a good half-hour before that. But the real reason I'm out so early is that aurora borealis is forecasted.

On the one hand, we're so far North that we stand a good chance of seeing the northern lights. But on the other hand, the nights are short up here in mid-July. That's why I'm really out so early. I'd been worried that it might be cloudy, but I do see stars. Yet they're not super bright, even here in this dark-sky area. I figure there must be some high clouds.

Try as I might, I don't see any aurora. I decide to try to get out of this small town and into the woods where it will be darker still. This doesn't take long - soon it's so dark I can't see a thing. I still see only a smattering of stars. 

But then there's a sudden flash of brilliant light. It's so bright that the woods all around me are completely illuminated. It only lasts a split second, but it nearly knocks me down. Not that there's any shock or even any sound at all, but the unexpected suddenness of it all completely overwhelms me. Naturally, I stop running to take stock of what happened. Was it lightning? There were no clouds that I could see. Aurora? Too sudden, I think. At the moment, I'm at a loss. 

Scared and shaken now, I stumble back into town. I jog around some more, now even slower than before. Eventually, I spot some more of what I determine to be far-away lightning. I now even see the source clouds that happen to be low in the sky.

It's getting light as I am about to complete the run, and the flies and mosquitos are already out and about. I get a couple bites. Now I am (finally) running fast.

Later in the day, Lady Adventurer and I actually make it to Isle Royale, where we set off on our planned hike on the Stoll trail to Scoville Point. When Lady A. turns back early, I walk/shuffle/scoot/run the rest of the way out and then all the way back, so I suppose you can count this as a run as well. You can read more about this part of the adventure in my travel blog post.

Our final stop for this trip is Bay City, more than halfway home. There's a Menards, a Meijer, a Ponderosa, a Culver's, an Uno. There are gobs of banks, churches, and what they call party-stores. There are a couple of hotels, including ours. But what do they not have here? A place to run! It seems to happen a lot when I travel to Southeast Michigan - nothing but busy five-lane roads with no sidewalks. After dancing around parking lots and taking my life in my hands on the five-lane (it wasn't all that busy on a Sunday morning), I finally find some residential streets on which to run. So it's a not-so-memorable end to an otherwise nice trip.

Long on Lester

Danny Boy has done a whole lot of long runs on Lester. Today, running gods willing, will be yet another.

 A thought occurs to him. Maybe it would be better to do 19 miles, rather than the usual long run total of 18. Wouldn't that be crazy? 19 seems like a good number today because: 1) 18 doesn't seem like quite enough, and 2) 20 would be too much. Sound reasoning, right?

A good way to do 19 would be to do one mile before the rest of the gang arrives. That way, he'd only have to worry about the last 18, and much of that running would be with friends. But even though he arrives ten minutes early, he's unable to get that first mile in. It seems that one of today's companions, Katherine Kinsey, has also arrived early, and Danny Boy winds up spending the extra time kibbitzing with her. Oh well, he thinks; if he does only 18 today, it won't be a total failure.

Within a few minutes, Shannon Barnes, Chadwick Sunday (and Ella), Julie Boggs, and Kelly Parker arrive. Yes, it's four tough and accomplished runners (plus Ella), and Old Danny Boy. We do one 6-mile loop in the early morning gloom, return back to York Township Municipality Park, and pick up yet two more friends: Harold Dravenstott and Debbie Hicks. Now we have seven (not including Ella). And it's getting real.

The humidity makes it tough but we get through another loop. People begin dropping off (Katherine has run her longest ever), but Julie, Chadwick, and Danny Boy soldier on. Somehow, the number 19 arrives on their watches, and they can stop.

Been a good one. Let's keep it going, thinks Danny Boy. He's thankful for his friends.

2023 Medina Twin SIzzler Race Report

The Sizzler sizzled today. It nearly never fails to live up to its name. It's also loads of fun each year, and once again, it didn't disappoint.

The 5K was fast like always. Of course, it could've been faster as far as I'm concerned. I ran it in 24:41; 7:57 pace. I suppose I'll take it.

The 10K was slow like always. Of course, it could've been slower. My time was 53:54, good for 8:40 pace. I suppose I'll take this one too.

Some fast old guy showed up and beat me in both races. I'll have to trip him up next time.

Julie and son Ben Boggs in the 10K, I am up ahead

The Twin Sizzler is one of those events where everyone knows your name. I love seeing the Square alive with activity and bumping into all of my friends, new and not quite so new. I'll be back again next year.

2023 Mid-year report

Don't worry. This will be brief.

It's been a pretty decent year, so far. I'm getting the miles in: 1,613 for these first six months. I'm also doing some racing, some of which isn't so bad (two marathons, a couple halfs. 

The best part is that I've managed to have some new and unique running experiences, which I'll relate and review in my end-of-year report. I like those and I aim to keep them coming. Stay tuned.

Who was that masked runner?

I need a long run. You know, like the one that didn't happen yesterday.The one that I was choosing to blame on the awful air quality. I had been wishfully thinking that today's AQI would be better and that I'd be able to get that eighteen-plus miler in.

My first action upon getting out of bed is to check the current AQI. Dang: it is still in the red ('Unhealthy') zone. My second action is to begin gulping my coffee. And just like that, a plan begins to form in my brain. I will get a few treadmill miles in, but then still show up to run with my friends on the Lester Rail Trail. That way, at least I'll have some non-outdoor miles, and yet I won't miss this run with my peeps. I post a comment that I'll still be there but with curtailed pace and distance plans/goals.

I step on the mill at 3:45 A.M. It should have been earlier. I'm only able to get five miles in before I have to get myself changed (I'm dripping with sweat) and into the car for my drive over to LRT.

As I arrive at five, everyone is ready to go. I, alone, wear a mask, an N95. Running with a mask is a first for me. I don't mind it a whole lot. Until I do. That comes at around four miles into the run. It's getting really tough to breathe, and that's partially because I'm getting pooped, but also partially because the pace has quickened up. You see, I was no longer able to get up in front in order to slow everyone else down. Six was enough for the masked and the unmasked runners today. Tomorrow will be another day.

As I drive back home, I begin to reconsider whether or not to call the day's run done. I decide that it's not. I get back on the mill and run another seven miles, to get up and over eighteen total for the day. It's a long run of the poor but done variety.

Dan Horvath, Harold Dravenstott, Shannon Barnes

Air? You want air? I'll give you air

I believe that quote, "Air? You want air? I'll give you air." came from the movie, Public Enemy, but I originally thought it was White Heat. Of course, I knew for sure that the words were spoken by James Cagney. This post will be about air, not James Cagney or his movies. Except for one thing: I'll let you know about the next thing that happens. The next thing that happens is, according to Alec Baldwin (who was imitating Cagney at the time), "Boom-boom-boom - he shoots him (the guy who had originally asked for air because he was locked in a trunk) right through the trunk of the car." It's such an iconic scene, yet I can't find it on Youtube.

Back to air. I am also having trouble finding air.

Northeast Ohio had some of the poorest quality air on the planet yesterday according to airnow. The smoke from Canadian wildfires seemed to roll in just after the usual morning run. The run itself seemed hazy though fine, but during the ride home, I noticed the anemic sun trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to rise amid the haze, fog, and smoke.  I believe that the Air Quality Index (AQI) in parts of our very own Medina County reached above 300, considered the Hazardous zone. That's nearly as bad as air can get, according to airnow. I stayed indoors for most of the rest of the day.

This morning the AQI was merely in the Unhealthy Zone. To me, it's still awful enough to cancel my role in today's planned group run at Mugrage County Park. I'm not sure whether anyone else managed to run outdoors. Me? I hit the mill.

The movie du jour was From Here to Eternity, yet another oldie but goodie. The mill run went okay. Until it didn't. After thirteen-plus miles, I got tired. So, in true Forest Gump fashion, I stopped running. It's too bad. I had been starting to have thoughts of making it a long run. 

To paraphrase another quote, "There will be days when you are able to do a long run. Today is not that day."

In a flurry of activity

 In a flurry of registration-related activity, I registered for two marathons and a half. A couple of factors played their part:

1) For several events, there will be a price increase soon. 

2) I prefer smaller races (not so much the big-city variety), yet races that aren't overly arduous. 

3) I had to work around our late summer and early fall travel plans.

The result?

Hofbrauhaus Half Marathon in Cleveland August 6

Drake Well Marathon in Titusville, PA August 20

InFirst Bank Veterans Marathon in Saylors Park, PA November 5

I suppose I should start training.

What bugs me

Yes, it's time for my annual bug post. This time it's mostly good news.

During the past week, our early morning group runs took us to Lake Medina, Mugrage County Park, and the Lester Rail Trail. Since we just had our Summer Solstice, the days have been long, and it's been quite light, even early in the runs. But, I've learned, if you start early enough - like before 5:00 A.M., you can still find some darkness.

Why look for darkness, you ask? To see the fireflies, of course. This week, they were the best at Lake Medina, where they lit the way for us, especially on the lower level, close to the woods. Seeing them makes the run what I would call enchanting.

And we can all use a little enchantment now and then.

GCI Half Marathon Race Report or, is it Running Loose Half Marathon Race Report, or maybe just *Run* Half Marathon Race Report

"Columbus wouldn't allow us to call the race, 'Running Loose,' so we had to change it to just, 'Run.'" That's what it says on the T-shirts: Run. The emails, website, and social media had originally called it Running Loose, but the latest email I received from them referred to the event as the GCI Half-Marathon. GCI stands for Grafton Correctional Institution, and this may give you a clue as to why the Ohio Department of Rehabilitation & Correction didn't want the word, loose, in the title.

Regardless of the name, running inside a prison (actually, just being inside it) was a unique, profound, inspiring, and deeply moving experience for me, and I don’t say that kind of thing often. I am extremely grateful to Keith Johnston of Running2BWell, Warden Keith Foley, and all of the incarcerated people who helped make the race such a wonderful experience. I'll do my best to recount the events of this morning's little jog.

This photo is from the race website, not from race day itself. But I ran with several of these folks

I will start with the pre-race instructions from Keith J., who has been working with the inmates to help them prepare for the race.

"I've enjoyed spending time with them and I'm sure you will as well. They are working hard to improve their physical and mental health and we all have a great opportunity to support them so that when they come home, they'll be healthier on all levels. That being said, they are incarcerated for good reasons so be wise about your interactions.

Bring a photo ID

You cannot bring in any electronics or phones; watches are ok.

Don't wear tank tops or singlets.

Don't bring in water, drinks, energy gels, etc. You can bring a hand-carry empty bottle (like TSA) and then fill it with water once you get there. There will be snacks available after your race.

Hats are OK. They'll likely be searched.

You'll be going through a metal detector.

Don't bring in your car keys, they can be secured in lockers at the front gate

We'll do our best to accommodate your shirt size but please be understanding if we can't. The prison has to order apparel from only state-approved vendors and we may not be able to match everyone. We'll do our best.

The course is a roughly 0.8-mile loop within the yard. So you'll pass the water stop every lap. It's a mixture of sidewalk and paved path with a small hill and a few sharp turns. The 5k will consist of 4 loops and the Half will be 16 loops (12.8 miles). We may be able to add a little to get closer to 13.1 but no promises."

Thank goodness I had talked my running partner, Chadwick Sunday, into joining me. It was good to have a friend with whom to share this unique experience. Another old friend, Roy Heger, participated as well. Altogether, there were about 15 runners from the "outside," and we all cleared security and entered GCI together as a group.

As we made our way to the starting area, we passed the huge vegetable garden, the service dog training area, and the extensive gym. Keith J. gave some further information about the institution and the event, and we were introduced to Warden Keith Foley. Keith F. seemed very nice, and we were interested to learn that he would be participating as a runner along with the rest of us. We also learned that there would be about 90 participants in all, so I guess that about 75 of them were incarcerated. I don't know how many would be doing the 5K versus the Half. Chadwick and I began to meet and chat with some of the other runners. Many were running their first race of any kind, but several said they had trained for this event.

Just before the start, one of the inmates sang the National Anthem. It was as beautiful a rendition as I've ever heard. As the race began, we continued to chat with the other runners between huffs and puffs. The 3/4-mile course was slightly confusing at first, but it quickly became familiar. I found it interesting that we seemed to go through gates that took us through different areas of the prison. The razor wire of the surrounding outside fence was never far away though. We ran by several different buildings as well as the garden and dog training areas. 

The best part, by far, was the enthusiastic support of the incarcerated spectators. A lot of them were outside doing various activities or just cheering on this day. They enthusiastically cheered us on for each and every lap. The guys at the three water stations took their jobs seriously as they also cheered as they made sure we were hydrated. There was music as well. I think several different bands took turns, and everything sounded great.

Chadwick and I continued chatting with each other, as well as with our fellow runners. Hearing that some of the incarcerated runners were doing their first Half-Marathon was inspiring. We gave as much encouragement as we could. They were welcoming to us in a big way as well. Eventually, the two of us became separated, but we continued to see each other as well as everyone else on the course, especially as the 5K runners finished up. Keith F. appeared to love and be loved by everyone at GCI. He gave high-fives to all of the other runners and got them from the spectators. What a great guy!

I managed to pick up my pace a little in the second half. It was beginning to get warm, but I was able to finish my 16 laps fairly well; my finish time was 1:46:25. That would be a very good time for me - my best in years - except for one little unfortunate detail: this Half-Marathon was, according to my Garmin, 11.92 miles long. Darn. I still averaged 8:56 per mile and this is nearly exactly the same as my pace at the recent Medina Half Marathon. So I'll take it. I jogged a couple of miles after the race, including some with Chadwick and Roy. As far as I knew, only one guy passed me and stayed ahead. I thought it possible that I may have been second overall. But I never quite figured out my place because the folks with the results sometimes included the 5K runners who finished earlier, and also sometimes placed the inmates ahead of the visitors regardless of the true times. It would have been nice to know for sure but I'm okay with all that.

16 laps. What do you get? Another day older and deeper in ... (that's from a song called 16 tons)

After the race and the cooldown, Keith F. treated Chadwick and me to a tour of more of the facility. We got to see an actual cell block and met the inmate who inhabits it. He was only too happy to show us around, along with Warden Keith. Keith told us that he feels blessed and that he loves his job. What a great guy! We also met and talked with several other inmates, and all were gracious hosts. We wished them all the best.

Did you know that when you finish a race inside a prison, you can't just get in your car and go home? It was a little bit confusing (and very slightly nerve-racking to me), when Chadwick and I had to search for someone to escort us to the exit. It wasn't any more straightforward than getting in.

And that's about it. I won't forget this one for a very long time.

What you're bad at --- and Hornet Dash Race Report

Find what you're you're really bad at; the thing you hate to do because you're so bad at it. That is what you need to do more of.

For me, there are plenty of things that qualify. But one of them, arguably near the top of the list, is the 5K race distance. I have never, ever, even once, run a 5K where I felt that I ran to my potential, or even what I'd call halfway decent. So naturally, I am fully aware that I need to more of them, Lots more.

The Hornet Dash is a good place to get started. It's a fun local race put on by my friend, Theresa Wright with help from my other friend, Julie Boggs. Both ladies had their families join the fun, and that made it all that much better. I also talked with Renee Harden and other friends before and after the race.

The race is a little cross-country, some parking lots, woods, loops around soccer fields, and a track stadium start and finish. I thought it was all fairly fine, interesting, and unique. But I can't say I ran well. Not so well at all.

25:27. First in my ancient age group, and no, I wasn't the only competitor.

Now, of course, I need to do more 5Ks.

Tempo Time

The fast folk surprised us. We knew they took a longer route around Lake Medina, whereas we mortals went straight up Foote Road and then turned onto 18 to head back to the Square. We were all stumbling around and through the extensive construction zone when the Express came through from behind.

The funny thing that happened is that one of us (yours truly) stayed with them and then ran a few more with them for good measure. This made for a tempo run of a couple of miles at a fairly fast pace. This was especially good considering yesterday's eighteen miler that was also at a good pace. It's good to run with friends. Especially fast ones.

Exploring around Niagara Falls

We're visiting the Falls with the Grandsons for a couple of days. The running here is pretty good, and it's a bonus that it's nearly impossible to get lost with the River and the Falls always finable. 

This is not to say that I ran well. On that first morning, I did about seven in the time I'd given myself to run ten. There was just too much to see and explore. After running by the Falls, I found a nice park with some ponds not far from the River.

During my second run, I ran North, well past the Whirlpool area. That is a very nice place to run.

Me and my morning run

Fast Friends

The phrase, Fast friends is usually taken to mean good, close friends. But it can also mean - and this probably will not surprise you - friends, who happen to be fast. My running friends are good friends, but - and this probably won't shock you either - they're also faster-than-me runners. Do they all have to be this way? Yeah, I guess so. Maybe it's just me who's the slower friend these days. My companions don't appear too concerned, however.

It's long-run time for Dan, and he has some companions for most of the way. That's a good thing. The fact that Dan is struggling to keep up with these fast folk (in spite of the good conversation) is probably a good thing as well; it's good to stretch one's capabilities. But when the rest of them are done and Dan has six to go, he figures that this is where it really gets to be a struggle.

From the start / finish area also known as the Medina Square, Dan runs over to the Claggett Middle School track. Once there, he can concentrate on his pace so as not to slow down too very much. And guess what? He does indeed manage to not slow down too very much.

It turns out to be a pretty darn good eighteen-miler. Maybe Dan is still on the upswing.

Loggerheads

Lager Heads is the appropriate name of a brewery / barbecue restaurant that is halfway through my eleven-mile country roads course. 

Loggerheads means to strongly disagree with someone or some group, as in, they are at loggerheads.

Loggerhead means being a blockhead or a type of sea turtle.

It's a little after six, the sun is just beginning to rise, and I'm running by Lager Heads. You could say that I'm also at loggerheads with myself, between the self that tells me that I ought to be able to run faster and better and my other self. My other self is more practical, however. That self understands that I just ran a half-marathon two days ago, and followed that up with the hilly nine-mile run at Hinckley yesterday. That self cuts me some slack.

Finally, I'm running about as fast as a turtle. As true as this statement may be, it's a little bit of a stretch to try to bring in the final meaning of the word, loggerhead. Unless you wanted to also call me a blockhead. That's not a stretch at all.

Today's run does go painfully slow, but I do manage to get through it on this beautiful and thankfully quiet Memorial Day.

2023 Medina Half Marathon Race Report

My tribe puts this race on, so I may be a tiny bit biased, but I think it's great. The 2023 Medina Half Marathon Race went off without a hitch, and it appeared that all my friends, everyone in fact, even including yours truly, had a wonderful time. Just how wonderful was my time, you ask?

Okay, I'll cut right to the chase: 1:57. That's pretty decent, especially considering last week's Cleveland Marathon. It wasn't until yesterday that I finally began feeling less sore and tired from that effort. Today's fine weather definitely helped, as did the fine volunteers and organizers (oops, there I go being biased once again). ((Also - I received a Major Award for winning my age group. It's a pretty cool piece of slate.))

This seems to be about where I was at late last summer, before the fall marathons. I think I'm on the upswing (again). Let's hope so.

Just the Half

Notice my use of the 'J' word. It's a required qualifier for any reference to such a distance. Don't ask me why. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that if you wear the shirt that you just acquired for a race during that race, this makes you the nerdiest, most unsophisticated newbie runner ever. Or maybe it's the problem that if you're a man who gets beaten (in a race, that is) by a woman, it's fine, unless you're the first man, and you're beaten by a woman because in this case, you've been chicked. 

The just Half that I'm doing is tomorrow's Medina Half Marathon. Since the Cleveland Marathon (no qualifier here) is only five brief days in my past, this Half may be slightly more of a challenge than it would've otherwise been. Because of this, I'm not looking to set the world on fire. But a nice, solid effort would be nice.

Wouldn't it?

2023 Cleveland Marathon Race Report

"Did you hear about the controversy regarding the Cleveland Marathon," asks Debbie? She is watching the local news, and they've been talking about the 60+ turns at this year's Cleveland Marathon. I hadn't heard, but I had indeed noticed from the course map that there was a bunch.

The start at the south end of Public Square was pretty nice, and despite all the turns in the first half, I manage to go past 13.1 miles in 2:02. That's better than expected, I think. I've done times like this for half a thon, then gone on to break four hours I think. Was that possible today? Nah. 

The second half is entirely on the West Side. We're running by a bunch of Cleveland landmarks, and that's pretty cool. The weather's nice too. There are plenty more turns. I keep thinking about the opportunities to cheat. Not that I, personally, would consider such a thing. But others would. In fact, I saw a couple guys cutting the course early on. There were timing mats to prevent such shenanigans, but not nearly enough of them. 

My own lack of fitness catches up with me in the second half. At some point, I mostly just try to keep the mile spits under ten minutes. In this endeavor, I'm successful some of the time.

My finish time is 4:12. I learn that I'm second in my ever more ancient age group. I'd hoped for better (in both time and place) but I suppose this is the best I could hope for on this day of turns and decent temperatures.

I just looked at the course map in detail and counted 76 turns. That's three per mile. But who's complaining?

Unprepared, I am

I can't remember the last time I went into a marathon as unprepared as I am today. Cleveland is only two days away, and I feel that my training has been woefully inadequate.  It may help if I look back on how I got here.

In the second half of 2022, my training and racing began to improve. By the end of the year, I was back to about where I'd started before the pandemic and my Achilles surgery. All's well that ended well. 2023 began about where 2022 left off, with a solid marathon coming in February. March didn't go so well, but I had begun to come back once again in April. But then came two weeks of almost no running, just when I should have been running the most.

Now that I've been back for ten days or so, I have yet to find my fitness groove. Maybe if I had another couple of weeks, I'd be okay.

But I don't.

Tale of two tremulous trots

I wanted to call them two tremendous trots. But unfortunately, they weren't.

After jogging nearly not at all for two weeks, I wanted to hit the ground running, and so I did Monday morning. It helped that Michelle Wolff had messaged me just as I landed a few hours earlier on Sunday evening. Good going, think I. How about a nice long run to make up for that lack of training during the trip, think I. How hard can eighteen miles be, think I.

That run didn't go quite as planned. Sore and tired, I struggled through the final miles. Good thing Michelle was there with me; she helped me at least get to my long run threshold of eighteen miles. It's just that they weren't very pretty.

Fast forward a few days of slogging, and it's time to try it again. Once again, it's on the Lester Rail Trail, but this time Michelle and Andy Wolff are with me for the early start. That goes okay. I then run the second five-plus by myself as it's getting light, and that goes okay. Shannon Barnes shows up for my final six, and (as I might have predicted), the pace gets faster.

Until it doesn't. I struggle mightily during my last mile, and I can't even call it a long run, as the total on my Garmin shows only 17 and a quarter. Overall, though, this run was better than Monday's.

Things can only continue to get better right? I still have time to get in shape for next weekend's Cleveland Marathon. Right? RIGHT??

Running with the monkeys

Here in Kenya's Amboseli National Park, you have to shoo monkeys out of your way whenever you walk or run anywhere. That's new for me. So is spotting a hippo just beyond the camp's swimming pool. So is having Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance, but large enough to take up a good portion of the sky.

I didn't run outside of the camp/resort area. Therefore, I only get in a mile or two. It was the same story in Ngorongoro and Serengeti, the last two places we stayed. No more than two-ish miles, due to a) lack of time, b) fear of getting eaten, and c) no place to go. Besides, I don't have the energy to get any kind of pace going. Even if I did, I'd trip over the big, flat stones that make up the roadways.

I decide to leave my old, worn running shoes as we depart our final location. The housekeeping staff runs inside to make sure we didn't forget anything when they spot the shoes. I am told that I have to sign a statement to the effect that I left them on purpose.

The Africa adventure was just that, but not so much with regard to the running.

Running in Amboseli National Park

Running m Y A S S O ff

It's track Tuesday, so I'm here at Claggett, just ahead of everyone else. We'll be making an attempt at some kind of abbreviated Yasso workout, notwithstanding the freezing, frosty cold. In fact, it's so cold that..... WHOA. THAT was a Big, Bright meteor. It goes down, possibly all the way to the ground, changing colors as it descends. A little later, when Andy and Michelle Wolff show up, I suggest that they check their roof for big holes when they get home since the possible landing looked to be in the vicinity. I even spot another meteor a while later. It's an electrifying start to the run.

Despite all my excitement about the sky, no one seems particularly motivated about doing 800-meter repeats in this frigid weather. Me, least of all; I'm not feeling all that well today. But after the much-needed warmup and drills, some of the folks take off to begin their speedwork regimen. I reluctantly follow.

I had suggested doing seven of the repeats today, getting us 70% of the way toward a full Yasso workout. I quickly realize that even that is not going to happen for me today. The reasons? 1) I'm running much slower than I ought to be, and 2) I'm much too tired to get anywhere near 10, 7, or any other decent number of them.

Five relatively slow 800s will do it for today. I'll call it a slow, half-Yasso. It could have been much worse. Anything more than zero is better than nothing. 

But I don't like Spam

By Eduardo Unda-Sanzana from Antofagasta, Chile

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: (starting to chant) Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: (singing) Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster thermidor aux crevettes with a mornay sauce garnished with truffle pâté, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam

Wife: (G.C.) Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: (singing) Spam spam spam spam...

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

~

You are probably wondering what the Monty Python Spam Skit dialog is doing in my running blog post. Absolutely nothing; I just like it.

Well, okay, maybe a little something.

I'm somewhere around mile 16 during today's long run on Lester Rail Trail. Some of my friends have joined me for parts of today's run, but I'm usually jogging alone at this late point in my sojourn. Not today, though. Today, Chadwick Sunday has continued to stay with me even after everyone else has come and gone. I truly appreciate this fine companionship.

Chadwick and I are discussing the differences between road runners and trail runners. He appears to enjoy both venues, but we agreed that the two groups seem to have entirely different cultures. At some point, as often happens, I begin doing more of the talking, probably much more. Chadwick seems okay with this.

I relate how my conversations with trail runners often involve them telling me all the advantages of their sport (softer surface, better for one's core and other muscles, enjoyment of the wilderness, etc.). I come back with something to the effect that, I don't disagree about said advantages, but the few disadvantages - that I have to slow way way down to engage in the sport, and that I often wind up falling, usually badly - far outweigh the positives. The conversations often end up sort of like the Monty Python skit, kind of like this:

~

Trail runner: Well, there's hills and trails; level areas and trails; woods and trails; trails, woods,trails and trails;

Vikings: (singing) Trails, trails, trails, trails...

Dan: But I don't like trails.

Trail runner: Try the level areas and trails. It doesn't have much trails.

Dan: THAT'S got trails in it!

A stone in my shoe

The phrase, "Stone in my shoe" was used in the Godfather, Part III, by the Joey Zasa character. I have a stone in my shoe, Mr. Corleone. A two-bit punk who works for me. Who thinks he's related to you. A bastard. According to the Urban Dictionary, it's supposed to mean, 'something or someone who is causing severe irritation and creating problems for you.' 

You may have already guessed, but today for me it's literal. I'm alone, running on the Lester Rail Trail, and yes, I have a stone in my shoe. What's more, I have one in my sock as well. How that happened, I have no idea. Up till now, I've been sort of enjoying this long run. I'd started in the dark, and I've kept the pace fairly steady. Michelle Wolff will be joining me for my final 6 to 7 miles.

The one in my sock is killing me. I'd hoped that I could just shift it around a little to keep going. Nope. Ain't gonna happen. I stop to remove the couple of stones that I can find. Then it's time to put my shoe back on. That, dear friends, is a real problem. It may or may not surprise you to learn that I don't bend so well these days.

I manage to clumsily don my shoe once more and now I'm running once again. With Michelle's help, I manage to run 19 miles today. Yay. I'd been a little anxious about when I'd be able to get my long run in this weekend, despite all the plans and options. You might say that that decision was like a stone in my shoe.

Father Time is a Mother...

The runner ran through the forest, his feet pounding on the soft earth. He could hear the sound of Father Time's footsteps getting closer and closer. He knew that he couldn't outrun Father Time forever, but he had to try.

The runner had been running for days, ever since he had escaped from Father Time's castle. He had been imprisoned there for centuries, forced to watch as Father Time took the lives of everyone he loved. He had finally escaped, but he knew that Father Time would not give up easily.

The runner ran faster, his lungs burning with the effort. He could feel the sweat dripping down his face and back. He knew that he was getting tired, but he had to keep going. He had to find a way to stop Father Time.

The runner came to a clearing and stopped to catch his breath. He looked around and saw a mountain in the distance. He knew that if he could reach the mountain, he would be safe from Father Time.

The runner started running again, this time towards the mountain. He ran as fast as he could, his legs pumping furiously. He could feel the wind in his hair and the sun on his face. He was almost there.

The runner reached the mountain and started to climb. The rocks were slippery and the climb was steep, but he didn't stop. He knew that Father Time was getting closer.

The runner finally reached the top of the mountain and collapsed on the ground, exhausted. He had made it. He was safe from Father Time.

The runner lay on the mountaintop for a long time, looking out at the world below. He was filled with a sense of peace and tranquility. He had finally escaped from Father Time, and he was free.

The runner knew that he would never forget his time in Father Time's castle. He had seen the horrors of death and decay, but he had also seen the beauty of life. He had learned that life is precious and that it should be cherished.

The runner stood up and started to walk down the mountain. He knew that he had a long way to go, but he was determined to make the most of his life. He was going to live every day to the fullest and never take anything for granted.

My friend Larry Orwin has been talking things over with his AI buddy, Bard, and the story above is the result. I like it, but I would have preferred a darker outcome. Perhaps a good alternate ending would go something like this:

After catching up with the runner, Father Time raised his scythe and brought it down. The runner closed his eyes and waited for the end. But the end never came. Instead, the runner felt a sharp pain in his chest. He opened his eyes and saw that Father Time had stabbed him with his scythe. The runner fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. He closed his eyes and died. Father Time watched him die, and then he turned and walked away. 

There now; that's better, isn't it?

The moral is (and I'm aware that this is quite deep) that you can't outrun Father Time. This has been a subject of conversation between Larry and me for some time now, and during a recent discussion, Larry's wife, Christine, also joined in. Larry and Chris are good friends, and Debbie and I had joined them for some gourmet pizza. 

I mentioned that it has taken me a long time - longer than most people - to come to terms with the declining running performance associated with getting old. I think most normal runners do simply accept the inevitable: that running times, distances, speed, endurance, you-name-it, all get worse as you get older. 

Knowing this and accepting it does not influence a runner's performance in the short term, or even the long term. That decline will happen no matter what. But acceptance does help you live with yourself. Why beat yourself up over something you have so little control over? Believe me, I've been there, done that, and it is not helpful.

Here's the best example I can come up with. I used to be a three-hour marathon guy. Sub-3 was my goal for a good many years, and I managed to be successful at least on some occasions. Over the last few decades, my best times slipped to the 3:20s, then the 3:30s, and then the 3:40s. Nowadays, twenty-seven years after my last sub-three marathon, I have begun to consider myself a four-hour guy. If I can break four hours, it's a very good day. Forget that had I run this slowly all those years ago, I'd have considered it a complete disaster. Everything is relative, and running times are exhibit one.

Here's the funny thing. A four-hour marathon these days feels exactly the same as a three-hour one did back in the 1990s. Exactly. 

The only difference is in your mind.

Rubbing me the wrong way

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Dan, shouldn't a runner of your age and experience know better?" Ah, yes. Age and experience. I'm partial to the word, 'seasoned.' But I guess I don't. (Know better, that is.) 

The segment was done. A few relatively fast folks had appeared at Brunswick Lake for the Saturday group run, and I had been trying my darndest to stay with them on the trip to Plum Creek and then around the lake. I had also done some local miles around home and had jogged over for the relatively late 6:30 A.M. start. Now, as we talked and as my friends began preparing to drive away, I realized a few things.

1) I realized that I had over 15 miles, so far. Just jogging back home would get me up to 18-ish, and this would be fine, except 19 or 20 would be better. The miles had been good ones, so far. Running fast with friends helps.

2) I realized that I was still feeling fairly fine. This was also a good thing, considering yesterday's debacle of being hit by an atomic bomb.

3) I realized that I had just stepped in fresh dog poop. I furiously began trying to rub my shoes in the grass and water puddles.

4) I realized that I was chafing. I'm always aware that once you feel something like this, it's too late to do anything to remedy it. The best thing to do is to stop running. Except I couldn't - I had to get home. And darn it, I really, really needed to get back to doing long runs, with today being the day.

Yes, I had taken some measures to prevent the chafing, but I'd obviously applied the anti-chafing stuff in not quite all of the correct places. Got to be more thorough. I made it home, though. I looked funny running with that condition, but I made it.

Somethin heavy hit me like an atomic bomb

Meanwhile back in the jungle
The boys in the jungle had me on the run
When something heavy hit me like an atomic bomb
When I woke up and my head started to clear
I had a strange feeling I was with cooking gear
I smelled something cookin' and I looked to see
That's when; I found out they was a cookin' me
Great Cuckoo let me outta here

These are some of the lyrics from Stranded in the Jungle, the 1950s song by the Cadets. That line, something heavy hit me like an atomic bomb was front and center in my mind as I started mile ten today. My companions had just finished, and I only had one more to go. 

Except that this one more mile would be one of the longest ever. I had had my Covid-19 booster yesterday (I think my 6th overall Covid shot), and I suppose the unexpected dizziness and soreness at this point in my run is the result. It was funny that it hit me so suddenly.

After practically walking that final mile, I drove home and took an ibuprofen. It's been a while since I've taken any Vitamin I at all, but now was the time. It helped.

Don't wanna do it

Think of Dana Carvey conjuring George H. W. Bush, saying, "not gonna do it." In this case, it's "don't wanna do it." Of course, I'm now referring to my own thoughts about today's track workout. How could it be anything else?

Last night, after I posted the run on Facebook, there were initially no positive responses such that I was about to cancel the whole thing. Why drive down there to suffer (all alone) trying to run hard on a cold morning? I kept thinking, don't wanna do it. But then, at the last moment before I was about to cancel, someone piped up to say they would be there. Now I would have to show up as well.

Five of us showed up; even more than expected. After a warmup and some drills, it was time to start our 800-meter repeats. Now that it was time to get out of my comfort zone, I thought once again, don't wanna do it.

Somehow,  we get through the planned four repeats. After the cooldown, everyone talked for a while, and then they all (except for me) got in their cars to leave. Me? I was only at mile seven miles, and I'd planned to get to ten. But guess what? Don't wanna do it.

I do it anyway. After a while, I decided that I ought to do just one more repeat. Five would be nice. After all, five is half of ten, isn't it? But... don't wanna do it.

I do it. It gets done, just like everything else.

Parkway Peepers

It's dark but starry, it's cool, it's lonely but that's okay, it's loud from the peepers but otherwise peaceful, but most of all, it's 5:00 AM. I'm starting my run from the Bonnie Park area of Mill Stream Run Reservation, and my first thought (besides those above) is that it's been a few years. Although I've run here on the Parkway many times, it's nevertheless been a while. I just don't hardly get up here anymore.

It soon becomes clear to me how much I've missed it. As I begin, the Spring Peepers are peeping their little hearts out. It's almost deafening in some areas, but in a good way. The stars are out as well, and they add to the peacefulness. For these first few miles, I am running extremely slowly, and somewhat gingerly. That's because I keep stepping on sticks.

Sticks and branches, victims of last night's windstorm, are all over the all-purpose trail. My headlamp, though bright, doesn't seem to illuminate all of them. I'm worried about tripping, but I manage to not fall completely over, at least at first.

Eleven miles today would be nice. Ten would be pretty good. Easy does it. That's not to say that I shouldn't be running farther and faster these days. Now that I've decided to concentrate on the Cleveland Marathon, you'd think that I'd finally become more focused. Too bad said focusing (even after a couple of days off this week) has yet to occur. Blurriness lives on, today's run included. No matter. I'm not overly concerned with either the distance or the pace this day. I most want to enjoy the sensations, and I am.

After turning around at Bagley Road, I take a few minor detours but mostly head back. It's beginning to get light, and the Spring Peeper songs are gradually replaced by birdsong. My pace improves. It's still not what you'd call fast, but it's better than it was. I finish the run with eleven miles. 

And yes, I did enjoy the sensations. All of them. Now. Next week starts the big push.

Better than DNF

What's better than a DNF? Why, at this point in my long and varied running career, I can say with confidence that I know of at least one thing that's better: a DNS. I mentioned this possibility (for the 56th ORRRC Marathon in faraway Xenia, OH, scheduled for April 2) in a recent post. Then, I wasn't so sure. Now, I am.

It's not that I'm injured or anything. I can't even blame my lack of fitness entirely on the crappy weather, even though I would like to. No, it's still that motivation thing that's been holding me back. As it is, I'm just trying to maintain my fitness rather than increase it at all. And I'm not even doing so great at that.

But Spring has just arrived. And with it, eternal hope. 

Maybe I'll really get going now. Or maybe not.

To DNS or ?

A while back, I registered for the 56th ORRRC Marathon in faraway Xenia, OH, scheduled for April 2. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Having completed Tallahassee a month and a half ago, I could only get better, no?

No. After Tallahassee, I kept on running, but I did take it very easy for a while. Easier than usual, even for a major effort. Just as I did eventually get my mileage and intensity back to nearly where they had been, it was time to travel back home from Florida. That's okay, I thought. I can just continue my fitness ramp-up. That's where I've had some trouble.

The trip itself caused me to curtail my running just a bit, but I thought I'd pick things back up right away afterward. And I did, at first. It's only lately that things have really gone downhill. I'd like to blame the awful weather (and running on the treadmill, which is of course, related) but I think I just have to admit that it's mostly motivation. Yes, the M word.

So Xenia is looking more and more like it will be a DNS. 

Stay tuned for further updates.

Hoping that bullet isn't a heat seeker

Maybe, just maybe, I dodged a bullet. Keen readers may recall that a couple of days ago, I was concerned that perhaps my Achilles Tendonitis may have made a return appearance. Although I took it easier than I otherwise might have, I did continue running - just not as hard. And so far, things seem to be back to the way they'd been.

But wait, there's more. Not that it's been pretty, but I even achieved my goal of seventy miles for the week.

But the road is still long. Yet I have promises to keep, and miles to go...

Yes, THAT Achilles

I'd been in denial. But I had to admit it last night: my Achilles tendon is aching. Yes, it's that one. The one that I had repaired two years ago. The one that had been otherwise pain-free since then. The one that I thought would never act up again.

The pain has been going on for a week or so. Coincidentally (or maybe not), that's when we got back into Ohio. And of course, that's when I resumed running in cold, Ohio weather.

So what to do? Something I've never been very good at: backing off when it's called for. And of course this is one of those times. The thing is, in the week we've been back from Florida, I've intended to run long nearly each of those days. It just hasn't been able to happen, and it certainly wasn't going to today. 

But I did manage to run a little on the mill (it's snowing and cold outside). And it (the pain) wasn't awful. That makes fifty miles for the week so far. Will I make it back up to seventy?

Dunno. Ask me tomorrow. First I've got to get to fifty-one.