Concrete

It's 9.96 miles into my 10-mile run. One second I'm vertical, and the next, WHAM, I'm not.

This is not as bad as the last time I encountered the Earth's surface with body parts that are supposed to stay away from it. Today, I manage to break the fall with the palm of my hand, so other than a jarring experience, I'm mostly okay. 

What caused the fall? Uneven concrete sidewalk sections to which I should have paid more attention. I hate concrete. Besides being uneven, its hardness also takes a long-term goal on us runners. Asphalt is better, and dirt, grass, crushed limestone, etc. are better still. Rubberized tracks are high among my favorite surfaces, and had I just remained on one for one more mile today, I would be having a different conversation with myself right now. 

After those first nine miles at Claggett Middle School track, why did I leave? Well, I was bored and decided my post-speedwork cooldown mile could be elsewhere. Secondly, a team of soccer girls had shown up, and I decided to stop showing off my half-naked body by running circles around them any longer.

The speedwork itself went better than expected. 5 x 800, the first in a long while. Now to improve on this. And remain vertical.

A word about pace

Volume and intensity are the two main ingredients required for improvement. Volume is generally the more critical, and should be attended to first. I usually think of pace as being more concerned with intensity (read: speed) than volume. That said, I can't help thinking a little about my pace, even as I concern myself mostly with weekly mileage and long-ish run length.

I am trying hard to get back up to 60 or more miles per week, and also to get my long-ish runs back up to truly long-run lengths of 18 miles and up. Today's goal was 14 miles - the distance from Peninsula to Brecksville and back via the Towpath. I wasn't concerned about the pace; I just needed the distance.

But it's hard to not think, just a little, about how fast I go. After getting started all alone in the dark, fireflies lighting the way, I start slow, but then I begin to run each mile a little faster. Would I be able to continue the trend for all 14 miles? Short answer: no. But 1 through 13 did indeed fit the trend.

It's my longest and best-paced run in a long while. It was also a beautiful morning. Great to be back on the towpath once again. Sorry for being so pleased with myself.

Oppressive

 

Heck yes, it's oppressive. And I don't use that term lightly. This is about as hot, hazy, and humid as it can get. I don't like it.

I've only been back for a few days, but I'm trying to make up for lost time. My peeps didn't make it yesterday due to the thunderstorms, but I managed to run ten miles as things were calming down. Those were ten humid miles, and the run was tougher than it would have otherwise been. Today is worse. Much worse. At least I have my peeps back.

Five of us meet at Lake Medina in the early morning gloom. It's in the mid/upper seventies and the humidity is thick enough to cut with a knife. But there are fireflies galore! the woods are lighting up all around us. It almost makes everything else worthwhile. I say almost, because there are other bugs as well. Tons of other bugs, and some are of the biting variety. The others just get in our eyes, noses, and mouths.

We get back to the parking area to pick up two latecomers. Now we're a real troupe. Later, we return once again to drop four of us off. 

Now it's just us three. We're doing around four more miles. It's getting lighter, and there aren't quite so many bugs. The only ones that I notice now are the deerflies that take bites out of my back, neck, and head. They seem to like my greasy/oily/sweat-covered skin. They seem to like to make me more miserable than I already am.

I'm pretty exhausted when I finally return for the final time (I ran the last mile all alone to get my total up to ten for the day). I doubt whether I could have done this without a little help from my friends.

Running in Scandinavia

Copenhagen, Denmark

It's bright daylight at 4:45 AM, so I don't need my headlamp or reflective gear. The sun is just about to rise, but there's no darkness to be found. The days are long up north here, and I think this will be the southernmost point on this trip. A half-mile on, I cross the Copenhagen Port River, to Christianshaven, which I believe is an island lying between Denmark and Sweden. But don't quote me; it's difficult to figure out what's a river, what's an island, what's a canal, etc. The place is almost like Venice, with its canals and waterways of all kinds, all over the place.

Right away, I'm running on trails through the woods, with watery canals nearby and all around. The sun is coming up, and everything is nice and pretty. I wind up on a bike trail through a very strange neighborhood. There are homes that appear to be shacks, but well-maintained shacks. They're close to the bike path, but there are no cars or even roads anywhere nearby. This seems to go on for miles. The only navigational marker I see is the tall church steeple with the swirling, curling wrap-around staircase.

Me, on the trail

The church steeple to navigate by

At some point, I become a little confused. I cross over some of the canals and swamps in an attempt to find my way back. There are more of the shacks, but some have cars now. Eventually, I find the church steeple again, and it's right smack-dab where I thought it would be.

Other than my slow pace and a few moments of uncertainty, it's been a pretty good run. It's always good to explore.

Randers, Denmark

There's a nice dirt trail along the river here. It took a while to find it, but now that I'm on it, it's quite enjoyable. Too bad I don't have more time. And that complaint includes time to clean and dry my running clothes and shoes before we move on later this morning.

Stavanger, Norway

Too bad I (once again) have so little time. At least it's not raining.  I do manage to get around the nearby small lake, and over to the port area. Best part of all? I stay vertical, despite the cobblestones, the bane of my (running) existence. 

Bergen, Norway

I know what you're thinking: he doesn't have enough time to get in a good run. You are incorrect. There is plenty of time here in the Gateway to the Fjords, Norway's second-largest city. But there are other constraints: traveling with wet clothes (after I wash them) and the cold rain. It's pouring, and the temps are in the low 40s. Not my fav conditions.

But I do manage to explore a little. I run around a small lake, and over to the port area. Sounds just like my Stavanger run, but there's more to see here. And I double my mileage from yesterday. But one of these days I need to get a real run in.

Later in the day, I get a real run in. Five miles at a blistering pace! This time, it's in the afternoon from a different hotel in the Bergen area. The run and the distance aren't really remarkable, but I'm happy to do it.

Sognefjord, Norway

I'm locked out! I had left the hotel carrying a piece of scrap paper with the combination to get back in. That's because there is no one on duty during the nighttime (and early morning) hours. The code doesn't seem to work for me, and I struggle with the door until I realize that I have to push, not pull on it.

The run had been nice; all along the Sognefjord Fjord. Very quiet, peaceful, and incredibly scenic. It was quite memorable.

Geiranger, Norway

This place is even more remote than Sognefjord. I leave the village of around 200, heading Northwest on the road along the fjord. Here, the walls are closer and steeper than those near Sognefjord. I reach the somewhat smaller hamlet of Mollsbygda. From here, the road goes up, way up, the mountain above the fjord - it looks like dozens of switchbacks. I turn back toward Geiranger. Once I return, it's time to try the other side of the fjord. Now, going mostly West, I reach the smallest hamlet of all, Homlong. The road ends there, and I turn back once again. This 10K plus run has been the most scenic and the best yet of all my runs here.

Just starting out from Geiranger

Just before Mollsbygda

Oslo, Norway

It's pretty simple to get down to the Harbor - just a hop, skip, and a jump. Not that I have a spring in my step; I don't. I missed my chance to run in Lillehammer yesterday, due to an upper-respiratory infection. I do manage to get out today because I'm feeling better, and because I have some time here in the afternoon, 

After exploring the harbor area, I make my way back up the hill, past the hotel area, and over to the King's Garden. It's a nicely manicured park that Debbie and I had walked through earlier. All-in-all, not a bad return to running after a couple days off.

Oslo Harbor

Stockholm, Sweden

I'm only a half-mile from the hotel, and I'm hopelessly lost in Stockholm's apartment hell. Good thing I don't have much of a time crunch. I always think that if I only run around in circles, I'll find some familiar landmark and remember my way back from there. Nope. I ought to disavow this religious belief. Eventually, I do manage to find an old wooden church that I'd seen before. Hallelujah. 

Anatomy of being  lost in Stockholm

I'm still here.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. I'm supposed to be home, you see. But there's this little rule that says that in order to fly into the U.S. you have to have a negative Covid test. Debbie and I tested positive the other day, so here we are for several more days. We're both feeling well; we just had minor cold symptoms. But now we are close to 100%. Want to know what hurt the most? Walking over to watch the Stockholm Marathon take place yesterday during the time when we were supposed to be flying home. Since I'm stuck here, I could've run the darn thing! But I'd decided not to try; running a marathon is probably not the smartest thing to do when you have Covid. This is also not to mention that I'm hopelessly out of shape.

Today's run through a nearby park and along the waterfront is quite nice though. I'm feeling fine and enjoying the scenery and the sunshine. That's except for the attacking seagull. I am not sure why it doesn't like me, but it takes several strafing runs at my head. Maybe it thinks it is a landing area. I finally determine that it's a Hitcockian Gull. But I survive this ordeal. And now I'm back up to a whole 5 miles again.

On a hill overlooking Stockholm

Whenever I run on an island, I have this strange urge to try to circumnavigate it. It's the same when there's a lake I can get around. As for islands, there are gobs of them that make up the city of Stockholm. The one I'm on is just a little too big - I have considered it, however. Today would be a four-island run day. Those include a tiny one or two, as well as the one I'm staying on and one that could possibly be part of the mainland (but I can't tell). When I get to the fourth and final one, there's nowhere else to go, and it's fairly small, so I do indeed manage to complete an almost-circumnavigation.

Four-Island run in Stockholm

I'm lost in Stockholm once again. This time, I'm well into my ten-mile run, and I hadn't planned to get off of the 3 1/2 mile trail at the southern shore of the island. I'd planned on just running back and forth as much as it took. But hey, a trail led to a park in the Western part of the island, and I took it. It went up, and then round and round, enough to get me completely turned around. By the time I find myself again, I don't need much more for my double digits today. This turns out to be my best run of the trip. So far.

It's my last run in this here town (we both have negative covid tests now, so we get to go home!), and I'm really moving. I actually pass two other runners, and that's something; they've been doing nothing but passing me the entire time I've been here. It's interesting that Swedish runners seem to be really and truly fit. But unlike my running friends back home, they run almost entirely alone. And they're about 75% male, whereas I think it's about 60% female in my part of the world. All in all, the running here has been pretty good. My runs have improved to the point where I feel that I am beginning to approach the level of fitness I was in when I left home three weeks ago. Today's nine were even faster than my last decent ten described above. See you in Ohio. I hope!

It's the friction, stupid

When I first ran after the accident, I thought it was the bouncing of the boobs that bothered me. It wasn't. Instead, it was the friction.

Once I figured this out, I've managed to run shirtless a couple of times (with the added bonus of being able to show my chest off to my running friends), and shirt-wearing, and even sporting multiple layers other times. This is Northern Ohio, after all, where we go from air-conditioning to running the furnace during any given 24-hour period. When choosing a shirt on the cooler days, I look for something slightly soft, so that I don't feel it on my left nipple each time my foot hits the ground.

Running with friends helps. After any and all initial conversation and silliness, my misfortune is often soon forgotten, and all I need to do is keep up with everyone else. And since our groups have been getting bigger recently, the runs are as much fun as ever. 

Now, I believe that my setback has been overcome, and I have indeed "bounced back." 

Again.

Bouncing Back

It's with some amount of pride that I can say that whatever curveballs fate, karma, or plain stupidity throw at me, I am able to bounce back and return to running, that much older and wiser. Well, older, at least. This Big Comeback, like all comebacks, begins with the first step of the first run.

I am out the door. I don't know what will be in store for me today, but I don't plan to push the envelope too very much. Maybe one to three easy miles, tops. Wednesday's debacle caused me to miss my runs two days in a row, something I hadn't done for months. It's been a month, in fact, since I've missed even one day. I reach the street, and then I take that first (running) step.

Ouch. Second step. Ouch. And so on. My boobs are bouncing, and my left one, the one with the stitches, smarts. Bouncing boons is something a runner of my gender doesn't usually need to be concerned with. And this sort of 'bouncing back' isn't the type I thought would be much of a problem today.

Eventually, I slow down a little, and the pain seems to subside. I run only two very slow miles. That's enough bouncing for today. Maybe I'll be able to bounce back better tomorrow.

Lacerations and Contusions (warning: contains significant bodily injury porn)

 

Some questions probably come to mind right away: 1) Why begin with an image of Dan's mileage? and 2) Lacerations and Contusions? Huh??

The answer to the first question is easy. The first photo in a post usually shows up as an icon when a link to the post is displayed, and Dan didn't want his injury porn to show up like that, all over, willy-nilly. In fact, this is a good time to warn anyone who doesn't want to see bodily injury porn to bug out right now. Don't say you were not warned.

Still here? Good. Now, it's time to answer the second question.

It's 4:30, and Dan is pretty happy. He's gone through his morning routine, and it looks like he will be able to arrive early at Lake Medina, where he is to meet his running friends at 5:15. This may enable him to get an extra mile or so in, ala the Dan of Olde. He puts his stuff in the car but doesn't drive off right away. That's because of Nipper. 

Nipper, his robotic mower, is in the backyard, and even after taking some special measures, he spends too much time there and too little time doing the front. After sending him out on a special mission to do the front at this early hour, Dan realizes that Nipper is mowing the back despite these wishes. Dan decides to walk back there and physically take him to the front. He's done this before, but not in the dark.

Dan walks around the side of the house and spots Nipper, headlights and all, mowing a corner in the back. In a slight hurry (because he still wants to get those extra miles in), Dan begins to stride over to retrieve his wayward pet mower. That's when things begin to happen very quickly. Dan trips over the two-foot-high garden fence (the one that he should have been well aware of) and begins falling into the garden itself. But he's stopped by a three-foot-high metal fence post, the kind with three sides that are rather sharp at the top. The collision occurs on the left side of his chest.

His first thought is that he is completely impaled by the post. His second thought is that perhaps he's not impaled, but why does it hurt so much? And then: will he be able to even get up at all? He prefers not to be found here by his wife, Debbie when she wakes up in three hours or so.

After a couple of horizontal minutes, Dan somehow manages to get up and out of the garden. His next thought is that perhaps it's just a bruise (albeit a painful one), and he can probably still make it to the run on time. But instead of getting right into the car, he decides to perform a quick self-check in the bathroom mirror.

There's a quarter-sized hole in the running shirt, and some blood around it. Removal and disposal of the shirt (don't worry - he owns other running shirts) reveals a surprise. And not a good surprise. The laceration is deep, wide, thick, and long - about 9 inches long. It goes straight across his left pectoralis major, including the nipple. The pain isn't unbearable, and it's not bleeding a great deal, so Dan cleans it up and waits. He waits for the Cleveland Clinic Express Care Center to open, and for Debbie to wake up and take him.

Debbie takes good care of him and gets him to the hospital, where they transfer him to Emergency. They do a chest x-ray (to diagnose the contusions), give him an antibiotic IV, a tetanus shot, and about a billion stitches. The antiseptic and sewing of the sutures are pretty darn painful at times. But the Emergency Room Doc is friendly and talkative. He clearly enjoys his job.

Now sewn back together, Dan isn't so sure what to do with himself. Maybe go out for a run. But not today.

Read (or just scrolled) down this far? Okay, here's your porn.

In the hospital, just before the stitches

Looks like about 22 stitches

Registered

 Yes, I've gone and done it. I registered.

No, I don't mean to say that I registered for races (although I am indeed all-in for the Twin Sizzler and the Erie Marathon). The registration I'm referring to here is on the machine they erected in my neighborhood. It's a speed monitor that is intended to inform drivers of their current speed compared with the speed limit. When I see these things, I always try to run fast in order to have the machine report my own speed back to me.

The vast majority of the time, I fail to register at all. It's as if I'm invisible. I am not sure whether this is due to my lack of mass (compared with a motor vehicle), or my relatively slow speed (compared with a motor vehicle). I try to run fast(er) in case it's the latter reason.

Thus, I was quite surprised when the machine near me reported "5" as I approached. Whoa, I thought. I can run faster than that. I picked it up and brought my speed all the way up to "6".

My registration is complete.

Consistency

There is something to be said for consistency. I just don't know what. I'll let you know when I find out.

I ran nearly every day in February, March,, April, and now early May. I think the only days I have taken off were ones that required a great deal of traveling. I used to make it a point to take one or two days off per week. Then came my year-long running streak, which was followed by (but surely not related to) my Achilles surgery. Now, I'm back at it.

This is not to say that I don't have some easy days. I do. Lots of them, and they are very easy. After finishing last week with a flurry of miles, I can guess that tomorrow will be such a day.

A flurry of mileage to complete the week? Yes, and I made it to 60 weekly miles for the first time in a year. It's hard to believe that I used to be consistent about doing 60, 70, and more miles each and every week. It was really hard to get back to this level, and the reason also has to do with consistency.

You see, I am still not doing long runs. I define a long run as 18 miles, and nowadays I can only make it up to 12. Twelve is itself an improvement since it wasn't long ago that the most I could do is ten. But without 18-20 milers, I used to consistently do a long run a week. But no longer. Now, I have to be all the more consistent with my medium-length runs and with not missing any days.

I am going to try to keep my weekly mileage up here consistently for at least a while. And I'm also going to try to get back to doing long runs. Consistently.

You read it here first.

Run 4 Fun Race Report

"Nope."

Our Protagonist (let's call him 'Dan') had taken just one step out the door. The cold rain, which he thought he might be able to beat, had made itself known immediately, and Dan just as immediately went back inside his warm, dry hovel.

Down into the basement he goes. and onto the treadmill. He's been trying to avoid the mill this week, but he deems avoiding cold rain more important. He runs ten miles, probably more than he should have.

He runs so much this morning because he figures that the evening's Run 4 Fun may not be optimal due to further chances of cold rain. That's if it happens at all.

"Nope."

Dan steps outside before it's time to drive to Medina for the race. It's still raining and it's still cold. Dan almost, almost, decides not to make the trip at all. In spite of himself, he nevertheless gets into the car and begins driving south. 'I am gonna regret this,' he thinks. At least he can add, ran too hard in the morning to his other excuses for the day, such as it's cold and rainy, I cannot run so late at night, and I am sure to make a fool of myself, etc.

Run 4 Fun is a great little Friday evening 5K to benefit Medina City Schools. Dan hasn't run this particular race for ten years or more. He immediately bumps into old friends galore. It seems that his injury, combined with the Covid Pandemic have caused many of his old friends to become near strangers. It feels great for Dan to re-connect with so many of these great folks.

As he lines up with Harold Dravenstott, who has generously offered to stay with him during the race, Dan begins to feel like old times at the beginning of a race. Oh, the anticipation!

But then the run begins, and everything gets real. He and HD begin at an easy pace, yet he is almost immediately out of breath nonetheless. HD and Dan eventually settle into a 9 to 9:30 per mile pace, only slightly faster than planned.

Somehow, despite a slight slowdown, Dan maintains a nearly even pace and finishes in just under 29 minutes. About three months ago, Dan had run a nearly identical time at the Mardi Gras 5K in Panama City Beach. One may have hoped that Dan would have improved since then, but consider those excuses of his.

Some day, Dan will need to get into shape. Today is not that day.

Dan and HD near the finish, with Dan about to make his Big Move   photo credit: Beth Bugner

Double-Digits

Keen observers of this blog will note that there have been several posts of late in which I lament the fact that I can manage to run up to ten miles, but not much more than that. Things went a little better Saturday when I managed 12 decent miles with my friends. Today, just two days later, I ran another 12 miles, and they were pretty good as well. So maybe I'm pushing that boundary out a little. Just a little. For the rest of this week, I hope to run one or two more double-digit runs, although I won't expect them to be more than 12; maybe next week for that.

Double-digits come into play another way for me, however. Here's we're talking ten-minute pace. The vast majority of my running these days is well north of that. I have to really buckle down and concentrate to run faster, especially for any length of time. Nowadays, I call it a tempo run if I can manage to run three or more consecutive miles under ten. It doesn't happen real often. And I probably shouldn't push the pace so much on my longish runs of ten or more miles.

But I did today. I didn't even intend for it to happen; I only wanted 12 decent miles. But since I started so slow, I began trying to run each mile faster than the previous one, and I somehow succeeded. But this meant that by the time I got to mile 9, there was no place to go but sub-10 (in order to keep each mile faster than the one before). I got back to the car just as my watch said 12 miles, and just as it said that the final mile, at 9:15, was indeed my best.

The average pace for today's run wasn't outstanding, but all's swell that ends swell.

Running How I Feel

It's a nice concept, isn't it? Just run how you feel. Feeling just fine today? Go for it; run long and hard. Not doing quite so fine? Then don't push it; your body needed a break anyway. That's all well and good, and it's the best strategy when recovering from an injury. It's a good plan for preventing injuries as well. But it won't get you (or me, in this case), to the next level. For that, you have to push it past your comfort zone.

My own comfort zone has been up to, but not much more than, about ten miles. Yesterday, with the help of some much-appreciated friends, I did twelve decent miles on the Lester Rail Trail. All that was required of me (besides actually running) was the telling of a few semi-worn-out stories. It felt good (the run, not the stories), but I still have a long way to go.

On a related note, it's the same with my weekly mileage. It's been in the 50-55 range for quite some time now. Time to take it up to 60 and beyond. I'm not quite sure when that will occur, but it'll be in my sights starting tomorrow.

In order to provide some additional incentive to kick things up a notch, I just registered for the Erie Marathon, scheduled for September 11. I'd better start training.

Fatigue: it didn't get to me today

As noted in recent posts, I often seem to hit a wall at around 9 to 11 miles. Today I would try to break through that wall and go for 12 or so. More importantly, I wanted to get my pace down below ten minutes per mile for at least three consecutive miles so I can also call it a tempo run. As recently as two months ago, I was doing this fairly regularly on my 9.5-mile route around Conservation Park in Panama City Beach. Since then, my running performance hasn't been quite so great. But of course, we know that progress isn't always in a straight line. 

After five miles on Lester Rail Trail, I picked up the pace. I managed to get those three consecutive tempo-paced miles in (9:27, 9:17, 9:13)... and then I crashed. Up to that point, each mile had gotten faster. But now I was done. I got back to the car a little past mile ten. I still wanted to do 2 more, even though I was dead tired. So I went back out. That's when the deer flies attacked.

It was all I needed: an excuse that didn't have to use the words, tired, fatigued, bonked, etc. Nope, this time it was the deer flies that did me in.

(Of course, if I wasn't so tired, maybe I could've outrun them.)

As long as it gets. Today's run, turn by turn

303

Why can't I run 18 or more miles at a shot anymore? Because I can't even run 14. Recognizing once again that progress isn't on a straight line, and that my overall mileage has in fact improved over time, I nonetheless desperately want to be able to do these long runs once again. Thus today's goal is 12-14. Maybe next week I'll be able to extend that further, but one run at a time. I turn from my subdivision onto 303. To avoid traffic, I run as little as possible on this busy state route, but in this early Saturday morning gloom, it's not too bad. I'm as awake as I can be at this hour. I guess.

Substation

Now I'm headed South, into the light wind. The route will take me down several semi-rural roads like this one. It's been a while since I've tackled this 11-mile course. (I am aware that 11 is not 12 to 14, but I can add some on after I return home.) I like these byways a lot, so long as the traffic is light. Substation's speed limit is 45, and there is little room to get off to the side when a car does go by. I pick up the pace a little, but these few miles are mostly downhill. I reflect that I'm running alone on a Saturday, and how unusual that is. But all my peeps are off doing races this weekend. Oh, how I wish I could do that as well.

Hamilton

After the turn from Substation, I run downhill some more as I pass miles 4 and 5, and a few cars go by, mostly around the Marks intersection. I'm still doing okay, although I become a little concerned when I struggle a little much going up the hill to Abbeyville.

Abbeyville

Okay, this is getting real. I'm only a little past half-way, and I'm slowing to a crawl. I guess the trifecta of Thursday's oral surgery, the resulting penicillin, and yesterday's second Covid booster has gotten to me.

Muntz

This is just a short uphill stretch, but I'm practically walking. Nothing hurts, especially, but I am Soooo tired.

Sleepy Hollow

Now I'm heading East again, and it feels like I'm finally on my way home. Never mind that I've still got 4 miles to go, and that I'm barely moving. I just want to lay down on the side of the road and go to sleep. But that won't get me there, now will it? I should say that even though today's run is most assuradly not going as well as I wanted it to, I'm still enjoying it. A wild turkey runs across the road up ahead, and I'm enjoying all the other birds and mammals that I'm encountering as well.

Substation

At this point, I am not physically able to go any slower, so I speed up. But only a bit. With only two miles to go, I can smell home.

303 and back in the subdivision

Lots of traffic on 303, but that's to be expected; it's taken me 30-60 minutes longer than it should have to get back here, so it's practically mid-day (not really). I squash any thoughts of adding anything on to the 11 miles to get up to 12 or beyond; I am done. No, let me correct that. I am done done.

Progress not in a straight line

Progress: it's not in a straight line anymore. Okay, it never was.

Since I began running again late last year, my weekly mileage has increased and my pace has decreased. I'm not where I was 18 months ago, but the overall trend is hopeful and slightly encouraging. But there have also been a few minor setbacks along the way. Although setbacks should be expected (and possibly even planned for) each one takes a while from which to recover.

The most recent setback involves the 26-day cruise from Miami to Italy. I did run on the ship, but the quality just wasn't there. And then the trip itself along with Easter weekend slowed me down some more.

Now, it's time to build back better. Don't judge me; I'm workin' on it.

Cruisin'

Running fast has occasionally been referred to as cruising. Running fast is most assuredly not what this post is about. It's about a different type of cruising; the type you do when you get fat and don't exercise. And on the Oceania Marina sailing from Miami to Trieste, Italy, that's pretty much what I did. But I did run a little.

Okay, maybe you could say I ran a bit more than a little. Not that I didn't get fat and hardly exercise, mind you, but even so, run mile after mile, I did. It was all-around deck 15 at 10 laps per mile, once again. But that was only when they had it opened up. Most days, especially sea days, it was closed due to high winds. And believe me, you do not want to be caught up there when the winds are blowing. So the majority of my miles were on the mill. I made the best of the situation, such as it was.

Don't get me wrong. When you do run on deck, it can be awesome to watch the night sky give way to the rising sun. It's especially fantastical when we're also coming into port. I only wish I'd been allowed up there more.

I did finally get land-based runs in during our stops at Katakolon, Greece, and Corfu, Greece. These were just short runs when I had a little time. Katakolon was short and hilly, but it sure felt good.

And why didn't I run on dry land (any more than that) when we were in port? The short answer is that I didn't have the time. We were busy at every port, seeing and experiencing things. I may have had some time in a couple of the afternoons, but by then I was totally worn out.

For more on the cruise without the running content, click here.

Gas Prices

Gas prices can jump higher by $0.30 in an hour. Then, over days and weeks, slowly come down, penny by penny. Until they don't. That is, until the next thirty-cent increase. And that's the way it goes with my weight these days as well. The huge increases are often due to a slovenly vacation or something else like my surgery. The excruciatingly slow decreases are due to hard work in the running department, along with a careful watch over intake.

And now, let's discuss how said running is going lately. Been home for a couple weeks now. After the gradual but real improvement in Florida (which followed the fitness setback from an earlier cruise), I suffered a slight setback again during the trip home and then over the following few days. But then, the upswing got going once again, and things have been looking better. I'm running fairly well, and the weight is coming back down. Slowly. The best part is that my volume has increased such that I'm up close to 50 miles per week.

All that said. yesterday's run was a stinker. I have always figured that stinkers can come along anytime. I try not to become distressed over them. I just try to figure them into the mix. When you're due for one, it's gonna happen, no matter what. But of course, it's best to manage such things by building easy and off days into the schedule.

Yesterday should have been easy or off since I'd been putting in the miles and hard runs earlier in the week. But no, there I was, trying to run my 11-mile new subs course on very little rest or caloric energy. And guess what? I bonked. It's not nice to (try to) fool Mother Nature. Unfortunately, the bonk occurred at mile four, so I still had seven miles to struggle through. And struggle I did. I was happy to make it home; at least I didn't quit altogether.

Today's run on Lester Rail Trail with Michelle Wolff went better. Much better. It's always better to run with friends. Hey, I'll have to remember that.

If I were a fast man

 Oh, Lord, you made many, many slow people

I realize, of course, it's no shame to be slow
But it's no great honor either!
So, what would have been so terrible if I could run super fast?

If I were a fast man
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum
All day long, I'd biddy biddy bum
If I were a speedy man
I wouldn't have to train hard
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum
If I were a biddy biddy fast yidle-diddle-didle-didle man

I'd scale a big, tall hill with rocks by the dozen
Right in the middle of the route
A fine wide trail with real flat areas below
There would be one long trail just going up
And one even longer coming down
And one more leading nowhere, just for show

I'd fill my office with plaques and medals and awards
For all the running friends to see and hear
Gushing just as noisily as they can
And each loud of the"gee", be it "gow", be it "geh", be it "guh"
Would land like a trumpet on the ear
As if to say, "Here lives a speedy man"

If I were a fast man
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum
All day long, I'd biddy biddy bum
If I were a speedy man
I wouldn't have to train hard
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum
If I were a biddy biddy fast yidle-diddle-didle-didle man

I hear my wife, my Debbie, talking like a fast man's wife
With a proper bunch of praise
Observing races to her heart's delight
I see her putting on airs and strutting like a peacock
Oy, that would really be me
Screaming at other racers, day and night

The most important runners in town would come to fawn on me!
They would ask me to advise them like Kipchoge the Fast
"If you please, Runner Dan..."
"Pardon me, Runner Dan..."
Suggesting races that would cross a Kenyan’s eyes!
And it won't make one bit of difference if I answer right or wrong
When you're fast, they think you really know!

If I were fast, I'd have the time that I lack to sit in the track stadium to watch
And maybe have a seat in the upper deck
And I'd discuss the workouts with the fastest men, several hours every day
And that would be the sweetest thing of all

If I were a fast man
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum
All day long, I'd biddy biddy bum
If I were a speedy man
I wouldn't have to train hard
Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum

Lord, who made the Kenyan and the Turtle
You decreed I should be what I am
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan
If I were a speedy man?

Measuring and Managing

 

"If you can't measure it, you can't manage it." That's been my mantra for several decades now, and it applies to life and my working career as well as to running. But since this is a running blog, we will mercifully constrain the discussion to that activity.

A great many excellent runners choose not to measure anything at all, or at least very little. A couple million East African runners come to mind, but there have also been some Westerners who eschew measurement. With the advent of GPS wearable devices, it's become easier and more prevalent to track distance and time, however, and this has changed things in our part of the planet. Nowadays I am able to tell you with great accuracy exactly how slow, fat, ugly, and bald I am. But I do use measurement to manage and (to try to) improve my running. I do believe it (measurement) works.

Allow me to now focus in on some things I'm measuring these days. I'm not especially proud of any of these numbers, but they do provide some insight into where I am right now.

* 48.8 - My mileage for this past week. It's the most in about a year. But I still have a long way to go. 

Mileage

* 172 -  My current weight on a good day. That's the lowest it's been since the surgery, but still a good 12 pounds over what I'd consider a decent weight.

Weight

* 11 - That's what I crank the music up to, when the other dials only go to 10. It's also my average mile pace during a good run these days. I can only rarely get under ten minutes per mile. This is all pretty darn slow, but at least it's improving.

Detailed running info to show pace

* 23 of 72 - The approximate number of days I've been at home out of the total number of days so far this year. Traveling is great and wonderful, but it takes a toll with regards to running. 

And that's it for numbers for now. I'll just keep measuring and managing. Even when I don't like the numbers, I think it helps.

Running in Florida and Beyond

I am only shuffling these days. But even so, here is an account of the running I did during a trip to Florida and to the Caribbean in early 2022.

Palm Bay, Florida - just a couple miles in this little town halfway down the Eastern Coast of Florida. I begin by thinking I might find the ocean, but no such luck. Even so, it is a fairly enjoyable couple miles through a nice neighborhood.

Florida City, Florida - A bike trail, of all things! It's the very last thing I expected to find whilst running along the four and six-lane busy streets around here. It doesn't go very far, and part of it is near some idling school buses spewing diesel fumes. Yet there is a bit of needed solitude as well. In addition, I manage to get myself into a fenced-in truck depot of some kind. I'm lucky to get back out close to the hotel where I'd hoped.

<<<Begin Cruise>>>

Oceania Riviera - It's ten laps per mile, and on previous cruises with similar tracks, I've gone as far as ten miles. But even though the Achilles pain is still gone, my left hip is bothering me after three and a half. I'll have to watch it. As I proceed to alternate between the sports deck (the 10 laps per mile) and the treadmill, I realize that running would be much more fun if I did it onshore. Unfortunately, we have excursions planned for most places, so there isn't a lot of time.

After several days in a row of running around in circles, I finally make it up to six miles worth. But they're slow. Very slow. Excruciatingly slow. But wait. It gets better. In the afternoon, I jog even slower into the town of Phillipsburg, St. Maarten. I hesitate to call it running at all, and I don't make it more than a couple miles. But there it is.

More running in circles. More running on the ship's dreadmill. Today, however, is a big day. We unexpectedly spent the night in Barbados, so now I can do an early morning run out away from the ship. Hey, maybe I can get as many as five or six miles in! I carefully pack a backpack, something I have nearly never done before. But you know, I may possibly need my proof of vaccination, negative Covid test result, wallet, key card, headlamp, and a bottle of water. I go down to the gangway area that is supposed to open at 6:00 AM. It's 6:02, and they're still setting things up. No problem, I think, I can be patient. Eventually, they do the facial recognition scan and I proceed down the gangway. Then they call me back; they need to clear the ship for visitation. I wait while they speak on the phone. Then they explain in detail that I am not allowed to walk to town from the ship. Why, I ask - we'd done so yesterday. Now we're back farther into the shipping area, they say, and no one is allowed to walk here. Shuttle busses will begin taking people to the cruise terminal at 8:00 AM. I'm livid, but what can I do?

It turns out that I do get some running in, although not so much. I do one mile on deck, and then a couple more after Debbie and I walk along the shore to town and a beach. Sometimes things just don't work out as you think (or hope) they will.

It's the last full day onboard and I want to get around six miles in. As with most mornings, I split the mileage between the mill and the deck. Although running in circles can be boring, I nonetheless love it. I get to see the sunrise along with the ever-changing sea and sky, and most days I get to watch us come into port. 

I've run every full cruise day. It's been mostly pretty good running. Now, about those extra pounds I've put on despite the mileage.

<<<End Cruise>>>

Florida City, Florida - After taking disembarkation day off, I'm back at it. In fact, I'm back in Florida City, running on some of the same streets I did two weeks ago. For some reason, I'm running even slower than I did then. It's windy and cold - very cold for South Florida. I watch out for iguanas falling from trees, but I manage to stay safe.

Key West, Florida - Now I am in Key West, running the normally busy close-in streets. But it's early Sunday morning, and everything is dark and quiet. I run over to Mallory Square, partially on the famous Duval Street. Some guys are emerging from a bar that must be closing up now that it's 5:30 AM. They heckle me a little, but that's okay. I get back in one piece after a pretty decent short run.

<<<Begin Panama City Beach>>>

Here I am, running on the beach in PCB, something I did very little of

Panama City Beach, Florida - Beachside Six. That's the name of my 6-mile course here in Panama City Beach. I'm running it now, and it's fairly grand; the sun is rising and it's a beautiful morning. And I'm running relatively well, despite last night's ill-advised bbq beef brisket. That's relative to recent months, not years (as in the last time I ran this course two years ago).

Beachside Six Course

We're settled in for the month here at PCB. Most of the rest of this long post will take place here. Back to the course. It's up and down quiet and quiet residential streets in order to mostly avoid the busier Front Beach Road. I will probably be doing it a lot.

It's my second day and my second run here in PCB, and I'm wasting away again, looking for my lost shaker of salt. There's a Margaritaville Bar/Restaurant in PCB, but they're also building a Latitude Margaritaville living community nearby but at a different location.  It's that latter place that I'm searching for today. I run West, past Rosemary Beach, and into the town of Seacrest. That's where I encounter the new construction of beach homes and condos galore. The scale is nearly unbelievable. This must certainly be the place. Before I can confirm that by seeing a sign or something like a margarita, I figure it's time to turn back; I've gone nearly 5 1/2 miles and it will be a challenge to remain vertical in this wasted-away condition. A while later, I return to the Beachside Resort in one piece. It's been a good run, my longest in a while. After some googling, I learn that I was nowhere close to Latitude Margaritaville. It was just Seacrest.

The wind grabs my car door as I open it to attempt to get out. It's not only extremely windy. It's also 38 degrees. But I'm determined. And prepared; I have my jacket, my extra layer of undies, my hat, my gloves, etc. All that, and I still have to run. Not only run but run fast. At least a little. I'm at the Arnold HS (home of the Marlins) track, you see. I'm about to do my first speedwork in ten or eleven months. My expectations are, I think, realistic: 5ish 400M repeats at whatever pace I can do, although 2 minutes would be nice. My first 400 starts nicely enough, and it feels great to run fast for this first time in nearly a year. Until that is, I traverse the curve and turn into the wind. It stands me right up, but I try hard to bend over and make myself less of a target. I somehow manage to finish that one, and four more, all between 2:05 and 2:06. I'm nothing if not consistent. This was tough. But fun. I love the track.

It's got to be either some large earth-moving equipment or else a T-Rex. I'd only just started my run in PCB Conservation Park when I began to hear this din. But I had to run a couple of miles before I could confirm that it was indeed the former option and not the latter. They're actually logging; clear-cutting parts of the park. I don't like it, but these loggers probably don't like me, either. The equipment, while not in my way, has caused the trail to be torn up and muddy in spots. I don't like that either. But otherwise, this is shaping up to be a pretty nice run. It's nine and a half miles around the perimeter of the park. This part is called the Bear Trac trail. I stop to look for alligators. No gators. No bears either, for that matter. This is all just as well. After passing the loggers, I'm very much alone; there isn't another human being for miles. I'm good with that, so long as the large carnivorous animals stay away. The best news is that my run goes well. The pace generally gets better as I go on, and I even break 10 minutes for my last mile. That's smokin'! ((Update: I later determine that the logging was not within the park, but just outside the boundary.))

When I say, "I didn't have it today," the implication is that I actually did have it at some point. Quite an assumption. I speed down Dolphin. I power up Pompano. And I'm movin' on Marlin. All at a land speed record of around 14 minutes per mile. But that slowness really is okay. Really. You see, I ran fairly intensely for the past two consecutive days and I was due for a stinker. It's nice to have it out of the way.

Mardi Gras 5K

My race, the PCB Mardi Gras 5K, is done and I'm cooling down. It's slow, even slower than my race pace had been. But then, everything's relative. There are about a thousand kids playing and practicing softball and baseball as I slog by. A bright yellow softball rolls in front of me, so I slow down even more, bend down, pick it up, and throw it over to the nearest girl. The bending is tough and painful, but the throw turns out to be excruciating. It's my right shoulder, not the side that caused me problems a few months ago. This one, I think, is more serious. Best to try not to think about it. And it's the same with today's race; if I don't think about it, it wasn't quite so bad. If you must know, it was just a bit over 29 minutes for a 9:18 pace. I'd thought I could do better. But at least I completed it. And the best part is, it's over! By the way, I was the second codger in my ancient age group.

You say you want a long, peaceful, quiet, serene trail run? Well, if you're in Panama City Beach, head over to PCB Conservation Park. I'm doing my second run here this month, and it's really great. Just like last time, I'm completely alone. Not another soul within miles. This time, it's even quieter because there is no logging going on. My run goes pretty well. I am smooth and strong as I finish even faster than last time. 

Conservation Park

People are waking up and starting to drive on Front Beach Road where I'm trying to run. I don't like it.
I have to keep switching sides on Front Beach Road because it's crowned so much. I don't like it. After a couple miles, a sidewalk begins, but it's concrete. I don't like it.
After planning to run between five and six miles east before turning back, I reach a whole bunch of construction, enough to make it difficult to get around. I'm getting tired and it's mile five, so I turn back at this point. Regarding the construction, I don't like it. Regarding getting tired, I don't like it.
I slow down even more with each passing mile. I don't like it.
I finally get back. Got my ten in. Best of all, I'm still vertical. I like it.

I've talked enough about Front Beach Road. Now, on to Back Beach Road. Also known as US 98, it's a four-lane divided highway where gobs of traffic zoom by at speeds in excess of 70 MPH. It's an impenetrable barrier to me, except on weekends when the traffic is lighter. Since today is Saturday, I'm going exploring on ((drum roll)) the other side. Yes, I decide to see what's here. There is a nice road called Wild Heron Drive, but after a couple miles I come to another barrier: it suddenly becomes a gated community. Oh well. Enough exploring here. After crossing back over, I do go a little further into unknown territory: some roads were partially constructed without any further development. It's okay for running, and especially exploring. Now, back to your normal channel.

The Big Capital Letters, 'T-R-U-M-P' are painted on parking spots in the parking lot. Since it upsets me that a school should allow such a blatant political statement, I suppose it's had its desired effect. I'm at South Walton High School, home of the Seahawks. I'd been thinking that it may be faster and easier than Arnold HS (where I've run previously), and that it would possibly have a rubberized, not asphalt track. Neither hoped-for item occurred. The good news is that I complete my 5 x 400 routine with slightly better results than last time. I think, once again, that perhaps I'm on the upswing. Don't tell anyone.

Once again, I'm running at Conservation Park, and once again, I'm running well. At least as good as any time since the operation. Each mile of the 9.5-mile course gets faster, and I finish strong. Exactly the opposite of what I wanted to do today. You see, I wanted to run 13 to 14 miles by hitting the trails again after the big loop, maybe doing one of the smaller, interior loops. But now, prospects for an extra few aren't so great. That's because I'm pretty well shot after finishing my first 9.5 so strong. After a short break, I do manage to shuffle out again. I do somehow manage to get up to 13, but it ain't pretty. Not pretty at all.

One wonders how long this can go on. I'm at Conservation Park once again, and I'm running well once again. Fastest yet, in fact. And this time, I don't ruin the experience by trying to do a lot afterward. 9.5 and the cooldown are plenty today.

Wonder no more. It can go on even further. Or, at least, faster. I am doing my final run of the month, the PCB visit, and the entire vacation at Conservation Park. It seemed appropriate. Just like my four previous runs here, each mile is getting a little faster. This time, I made a bargain with myself: if I can run faster than last time (around 1:42 for the 9.5-mile loop), I wouldn't have to run much more - just a cool-down. If I go slower, I'd have to make it a 13-14-miler. How did that work out for me, you ask? Pretty darn good. I manage to go sub-10-minutes for miles five, six, seven, and eight. I finish in 1:38. That's really moving for me these days. It's my best run in a very long time.

And this will end the story of my Florida and Beyond running adventures. Hope you liked them. If you want to hear more about this trip, check out my travel blog.