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.

All Stories Great and Small --> Running in Florida

Of All Things

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

Overdue Bonk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Continuous, Maybe, Contiguous, Not

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

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

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

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

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

Does the Body Good

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think the 'ole bod came through okay.

At the trailhead between loops at Conservation Park

The Bad and the Ugly

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

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

Today's Tremendous Tempo Training Trot

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

Splits for the second 6-mile loop

Okay, enough pride. Back to reality.

Third Time is a Charm

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

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

PCB Conservation Park Pre-dawn

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

Dress Rehearsal, by the numbers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yasso, Here we go Again

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

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

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

All Dressed up, Noplace to go

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

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

Last Long Run, and I really mean it this time

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

Depletion run

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

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

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

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

Not the Tallahassee Marathon Race Report

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

Recovery Slog

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

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

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

Slogans of the Week

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

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

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

Cooldown from Hell

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

Chasing my Shadow

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

Long shadows in the park

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

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

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

Overdue Bonk, Part II

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

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

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

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

One more

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

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

For more about PCB, check out our travel blog.

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

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

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

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

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

2023 Tallahassee Marathon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Long Likely Lester Longing

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

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

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

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

2022: Not so bad

 

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

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

We thought it would be easy

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

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

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

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

Not not running today

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

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

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

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

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

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

Merry Christmas.

Wholly Unholy: a First Breakfast

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

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

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

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

Storm's a-comin'

 

Description

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

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

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

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

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

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

Me and Connie and our racing flats

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The laces still sparkle

UAE

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

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

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

A run on Sir Bani Yas

Medina Turkey Chase 4-Mile Race Report

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

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

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

Now, it's time for some premeditated gluttony.

I may not be my usual speedy self today

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

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

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

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

Failure to Launch

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

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