The Internal Pigdog

Persistence

2010-04-20T22:51:00.003-05:00

Persistence is something I admire. It's a trait I admire and want to have. What's great about it is it's equal parts obstinance and hope. That's how I think of running. It's such a long-term thing. In 2003, I was still pretty new to running. I'd been at it for three years and kept improving. I qualified for Boston after doing a 3:02 in Chicago in the fall. I was running so much that I even did a 50k in February of 2003, coming in eight place with a time of about 4:05. I was running 60 miles a week. I felt so ready for Boston and going under three hours. It felt inevitable to me.

It didn't happen. Instead I had the worst day of running in my life. Boston chewed me up and spit me out. Before this year's race, I went back and pieced together my memories of that race. I remember sitting next to a guy from LA on the bus out to Hopkinton. I told him about running under three. I remember realizing I couldn't keep pace with my friend Barney in the early miles. I remember dreading the last 18 miles. I remember seeing people writhe on the ground in pain on Heartbreak Hill. I remember knowing friends were on the left side of the road at Cleveland Circle but going to the right side to avoid them. Finally I remember sitting on a curb after it was over and feeling for the first time really acutely upset by running. I said that day that I'd come back the next year and fix what went wrong.

It didn't happen. I got sidetracked and didn't run that great. Then I ran some mediocre marathons. The years went by. I registered to run one year but got hurt in training and didn't make it. Finally on Monday, seven years later, I went back to Boston, older and heavier but also smarter. My goal was not just to beat the 3:32 I did that day in Boston in 2003 but run the race on my terms. I felt like in 2003 the course ran me. The hills crushed me. This time I didn't flinch when the hills came. One thought kept coming back to me, "This is what I do and why I ran all those miles." I kept powering up them with consistency. I rarely thought about 2003 when I was on the course. The only time I did was at the top of Heartbreak Hill. There was a group of school kids at that op holding signs that said "The end of Heartbreak." I admit, for a moment, I got emotional. It was a moment I realized I'd run a good Boston. I thought back to all that shit from 2003, how physically and emotionally beat up I felt sitting on the curb after the race. The last six miles, while painful, were more of a celebration. I haven't felt that way in many marathons. And so I came away with a great thing: a memory of a certain time on a hill that I won't forget. That kind of thing means more to me than some medal or a number on my watch.

Making Right a Wrong

2010-04-14T21:24:00.006-05:00

It is crazy for me to think that on Monday morning, I'll get off the bus at Hopkinton, seven years after I first went to run Boston. At the time, I was coming off a lot of success as a runner. Six months earlier, I ran a 3:02 in Chicago, taking about 20 minutes off my PR. That winter, I got eighth place in a 50k held in Central Park. My thought was under three hours. It didn't happen. Instead, I suffered mightily. This week, I went back and found an email I sent to my friend about the race. Here's what I wrote:

I would have done well -- if I was in the visually impaired category. It was a very, very tough day. I'm not really all that sure what exactly went wrong, but something went wrong. First, it was hot as the dickens, 70 at the start. After running in the cold all winter, I felt like I was in the Sahara. I even grabbed a sponge from some kid on the roadside, only to find it was one of those pre-soaped sponges, so I had toxic materials running down my face and into my mouth. Then, I peeled off to pee in what I thought was a semi-secluded spot at mile 6. I didn't expect a man with a bullhorn to accost me, "PUT THAT THING AWAY!" Basically, the race went smashingly until mile 8, when I started getting leg cramps. I was cruising along at a 6:40 pace at that point. Over the next 18.2 miles, the world came crashing down. Women, the infirm, men in llama costumes all streamed by me. My first half was at 1:32; my second: 2:01. Ouch. It wasn't fun. My only solace is I didn't stop, like the man I saw puking on Heartbreak Hill or the other that was curled up in the fetal position screaming. The finish area did a brisk business in giving out wheelchair rides.

You get the picture. I don't have all the splits from the race. These two tell the story: first 5k: 20:54; last 5k: 30:28. I'm not going to let that happen again. I remember finishing the race and for the only time in running being truly upset. Sitting on a curb, sunburned, incredibly sore and filled with disappointment, I felt sorry for myself. I quickly vowed I'd get my revenge. That day in Boston has remained my greatest regret in running, even more than the trips to the hospital. It's crazy that I get my shot at making it right seven years later.

So I'm ready. I want to find that balance between running smart and not leaving anything in the tank. My main worry is going out too fast. As Bill Rogers said, "You lose your mind in Boston (on the early downhills)." Follow my progress on the Boston Marathon site. My bib is 5081.

Keeping Your Head

2010-04-06T18:08:00.003-05:00

Over at DailyMile, there was a comment on a runner's training that made sense. It talked about "keeping your head" at Boston. I've only run the race one time, but this seems to me the biggest challenge. The course is seemingly designed to make you go out way, way too fast, then punish you into submission. That's what happened to me in 2003. It was probably my worst day running, including the two hospitalizations. I knew at mile 10 I was done, steeling myself for 16 miles of getting passed and feeling worse and worse. With the taper fully on, I'm trying to think ahead to the race, how I'm going to run it. Going out easy is a big goal of mine. It's tough because I tend to go out pretty hard and challenge myself, then figure if I die, I die. That approach doesn't work so well with Boston's hills. Time to keep my head.

Boston Training: An Assessment

2010-04-02T15:22:00.003-05:00

Boston is just 17 days away. The main training is finished. It's time to assess. Overall I'm pleased with how it went. I didn't get any major Achilles flareups, and I was able to run a fair amount. Did I run enough? Who knows, probably less than I'd prefer. The last few weeks of training were hard with travel. There's not much you can do about that. Here's my assessment:

1. Endurance: B-. Winter is always harder to get in the miles. I started training in January with a great month, 152 miles. I think basically held steady until this past month, when I had a couple big weeks followed by ending with a whimper. I was happy to do most of miles in hilly Central Park. That should prepare me for Boston. If there's any area I'm concerned about, it's endurance. On the plus side, I ran five solid 20 milers. On the minus side, I didn't get in many midweek semi-long runs.

2. Speed: B+. I ran fast during training, probably too fast. If I had to do it over again, I'd be more disciplined about running my easy runs slower and hard runs faster. The way it is, I ran most runs sub 7:30. Three long runs came in at sub 7:15, way too fast. On the flip side, I didn't do nearly enough tempo workouts, and those I did tended to be at 6:40. That's OK.

3. Health: B. As I said, I'm not terribly injured. I have aches, of course. My Achilles is sore right now from doing 7 miles last night at 6:50 pace. I've learned to rest it, use ice and even KT tape. It will be alright. Otherwise, just some odd knee pain and a little hamstring and calf soreness -- nothing that should bother me in Boston.

I guess that leaves the overall grade at a B. That feels right. I'm not in the best of shape, but I'm in pretty good shape. I still think I can running under three hours if I'm able to string together enough quality training without injury. That wasn't my goal this time around. Boston is too hard for that. Originally, I thought sub 3:15 would be my goal. I'm making that sub 3:10, with a stretch goal of 3:05. I don't have a ton to go on since I last ran a race in January, a half marathon I finished in 1:31. That was before most of my training, so I don't put too much stock in it. From prior experience, I know a lot of it comes down to the day. Maybe I'll feel good, maybe I'll be patient the first 10 miles that are downhill, maybe the weather will be great. No matter what, I'm eager to run the course again. I screwed up the last time I went to Boston and got totally humbled. Not this time.

The Week in Running

2010-03-07T18:08:00.004-05:00

It's go time. This week marks six more until Boston. This is not just the hardest time in training but the most dangerous. It's hardest because I'm now nine weeks into training. That's a lot of accumulated miles -- 337 miles since Jan 1 to be exact. After easing up last week, I returned to "high" mileage. I use quotation marks because a 50-mile week running isn't really high mileage, but it's my limit right now. It's enough to be hard and get me in pretty good shape. That brings me to the dangerous part. With all those miles and hard workouts, my body is at danger of breaking down and succumbing to injury. Training is always like that. I remember back to when I first injured my Achilles. I was running great, really nailing workouts and just finished a 70-mile week. That's when things fell apart. I'm not going to let that happen again. So I'm stepping back a bit this week. My Achilles is achy, and I don't want to push it too much. If that means sacrificing two minutes in Boston, I'm OK with that. I have some travel coming up that will make training hard. This weekend I'll be in Austin for South by Southwest. Then, next weekend, I leave for Paris for five days. I'm looking forward to both trips, although I'm a little worried about getting in miles. I love running in other cities. It's such a wonderful way to see them.

Don't Give Up

2010-03-04T09:24:00.004-05:00

My favorite t-shirt reads in simple block letters, "Don't Give Up." It's an ad agency's motto, and I find wisdom in its simplicity. It acknowledges things won't always go the way you want, progress is hard and perseverance is a virtue. I'm drawn to running for those reasons. DailyMile has been a great eye-opener for me to the different struggles other runners face. It's inspiring to see the progress people make. Just check out this collection of before/after photos. I'm often jealous to some degree of the new runners. I remember just discovering running, the feeling like it was a new drug that is life-altering. Improvement comes quickly in those days. It's intoxicating. And then you plateau. This is inevitable. The days of dropping 15 minutes from a marathon PR end. You're left confronting personal limitations. That's when the hard part begins. You need to reorient your goals and outlook, maybe figure out the small things that can make improvements. That's where I've been the last 18 months. Running as a struggle has been something new. It's humbling. What I've noticed, though, is I've begun making improvements again. Going under 3:10 at the Harrisburg Marathon was a nice achievement. It puts me in spitting distance of the three-hour mark. That won't come in Boston, but it could provide a base to make the changes needed, such as joining a running team, that can get me there.

As an aside, I came across a great column in the New York Times recounting the story of Jan Baalsrud, a Norwegian resistance fighter during WWII. His story is truly an epic tale of endurance. It's actually beyond endurance, almost reminiscent of all the stuff Pangloss goes through in Candide.

The Month in Running

2010-03-01T14:47:00.002-05:00

Another month down. 2010 has been a good year so far. I've managed to run quite a bit, finishing this short month with 153 miles running and another four swimming. That's not half bad. More importantly, I feel good with the Boston Marathon seven weeks away. That leaves me with four weeks left of hard training, pretty much all of March. I've done two 20-mile runs so far. I'll do another this weekend, then one more two weeks after that, then finish up with one last 20. Speedwise, I feel like I'm doing OK. Yesterday's hard long run gave me some confidence. At this point, it's just a matter of not overdoing it and resting when I need it.

The Week in Running

2010-02-28T19:12:00.004-05:00

It was a step-back week for me. The weather was crap and I wasn't feeling great. Little things hurt me, like my hamstring, the ever-present Achilles and a new friend, a sore knee. These kind of dings are to be expected. Training for a marathon is hard work. The body is liable to rebel at some point. What's key, I think, is listening to these signals to ease up. It's easier said than done. I was lucky this week because the weather sucked, giving me an excuse to cut back on mileage. The week ended on a high note when I ran two loops of the park at sub 7 pace. It wasn't too difficult. That kind of hard, fast hilly run gives me confidence for Boston, but also hope that I can figure out a pathway to 3. I've bided my time for a while when it comes to the sub-3 marathon, and I think it's time I figure out how to do a new push. Fitness-wise, I feel great now. I'm only about 152 pounds, and I feel fast when I run. The frustrating part of my quest to run a sub-3 marathon is I know I have the ability and the toughness, but I'm held back by my body not digging the hard work. That's led me to figuring out a balancing act of how much is too much. I think I'm figuring it out. The Boston should be a warm up to giving a serious shot at it this fall, probably in Philly. Is it possible? All I know is if I felt the way I did today, when I did 6:50 miles in the park, I can do it.

The Injury Paradox

2010-02-28T19:07:00.000-05:00

The hardest part of being a runner is knowing when to ease off running. The entire activity is geared in the exact opposite direction. It's about denying discomfort, pushing through pain. That can lead to problems. Runners are, as one would expect, rather single-minded when it comes to injuries, which makes them even worse. A Runner's World survey found 2/3 of runners suffered an injury in the past year. That's remarkable. What other voluntary activity can claim such an attrition rate? That means most runners look to avoid injuries like the plague. I'm no different. I've been beset by some problem or other for the past few years. It's frustrating. I've come to the conclusion that the Achilles problem I"ve had for the past 18 months isn't going anywhere. But I've adjusted my training enough to keep major difficulties at bay. At the end of the day, that's what it comes down to, I think, figuring out your weaknesses, working to eliminate them but also simply taking them into consideration. I feel like I've gotten to a place where I can deal with my injuries. I'm ready to start running fast again.

Week in Running

2010-02-21T21:29:00.003-05:00

This week marked two months until the Boston Marathon. I wanted to get in a solid week after getting derailed last week. I think I did that. For me, there are three key runs to complete, the rest is gravy. 1) speed: I got in a pretty solid six miles at tempo pace. 2) medium-long run: took care of that with a 10 miler mid-week. 3) long: my highlight of the week with 20 miles at a 7:30 pace, a great run if dangerously close to being too fast. The week's training was rounded out with a nice Vibrams recovery and a 5.75-mile Riverside run at aerobic pace. This leaves me pretty much right on schedule, with two 20-milers already down. My big focus remains recovery. The Achilles isn't too happy, so I need to ease up a bit this week before resuming hard training.

The Week in Running

2010-02-14T18:40:00.003-05:00

For the most part, it was a week to forget. I came down with some kind of illness on Tuesday that threw me for a loop. Then a friend came to town on Thursday. I'm happy with how the week ended, with a very solid weekend, including a nice long run that was done in tough conditions. At this point, I'm pretty hopeful for Boston.

Week in Running

2010-02-07T17:10:00.003-05:00

The training is ramping up. Boston is 10 weeks away. Spring marathons are always tough because the winter just isn't a great time for training. We've been lucky in New York to avoid much in the way of snow, which can easily screw up training. This week was a success, overall. I had an extra off day again, just because of other plans in the evening. The four running days I had were pretty solid, particularly yesterday's long run. It was the first 20-miler of training and done in Central Park. The 7:35 pace is pretty fast for that distance and terrain. Hopefully it means I'm in shape, not that I'm overdoing it. The Achilles is holding up alright, sore after hard workouts but better after I give it some rest. At this point, I'm pretty happy to run four or five times a week. It means the runs should all have a purpose, rather than just getting in the miles.

Month in Running: January

2010-01-31T16:46:00.003-05:00

I closed out January today with an 18-mile long run, the farthest I've gone since the Harrisburg Marathon. This month marked the start of training for Boston. It went pretty well. Overall, I ran 152 miles and 19 days. I supplemented that by swimming seven miles in seven sessions. Twenty-six workouts in 31 days is pretty good. The Manhattan Half Marathon was the highlight, giving me some confidence that I'll be in shape to run a decent Boston. The majority of my running took place in Central Park. My bet is this will get me ready for the hills.

Manhattan Half Marathon Report

2010-01-24T14:19:00.003-05:00

Today was the first test of the Boston Marathon training. I really only began Jan. 1, since December was probably my worst month for running in a decade. My training log shows just 31 miles run in the entire month, a mere mile a day. Lots of stuff prevented me from getting out there as much as I'd have liked. That's alright, since the body needs time to regenerate. Even mentally, I can't train hard all the time anymore.

Rather than regurgitate the details, I'll re-post my race breakdown from DailyMile. This qualifies as a success in my book. According to the MarathonGuide.com race predictor, my time puts me on track for a 3:08 marathon. Right where I'd like to be.

DM post:

A successful race overall. The Manhattan Half has special significance to me because in 2002, when it was still held in August, I suffered mightily, kept stupidly pushing a sub-7 pace in 90 degrees, and ended up collapsed at mile 12 with severed dehydration. Ending a race at Mt. Sinai Hospital is never a good thing. Thankfully, the race subsequently was moved to the winter, so that wasn't going to happen again.

Going in, I didn't have any defined goal, other than run under 1:35 and feel strong throughout. i borrowed a number from @jim k b/c he wasn't able to run the race. The downside of this was getting corralled farther back than I should. The upside was passing lots of people. I forgot to bring a gel. That's OK because the half distance is right between where I feel like I need that kind of boost. The splits all over the place. Central Park's topography is probably partly to blame -- there are rolling hills with two significant ones, cat and harlem hills. The course was two loops of the park with an extra 1.1 tacked on at the end.

Mile 1: 7:56, good practice of squeezing through tight spaces

Mile 2: 7:06, finally getting room to run normally

Mile 3: 6:47, a surprise split but the fastest part of the course going downhill before Harlem Hill

Mile 4: 7:01, this is the biggest hill of the course

Mile 5: 6:50

Mile 6: 6:42, completed the first loop

Mile 7: 6:44, a DM sighting of Running L pacing some runners to 1:35

Mile 8: 6:54, includes the second time up Cat Hill

Mile 9: 6:44, like mile 3 a fast one

Mile 10: 7:06, Harlem Hill for the second time

Mile 11: 6:47, always find it much easier running a course I know quite well

Mile 12: 6:42

Mile 13: 6:37, still had energy

final .1: :40

Not a bad day, particularly this early in training. Throwing out the crappy first mile, I averaged 6:50 miles on a tough course. The only mile that stands out as weak is the 7:06 at mile 10. Still, it's understandable all things considered. I'm most encouraged that the last mile was the fastest and I didn't end totally wiped out -- or with an IV in my arm. It ranks in my top five fastest half marathons.

13 Weeks to Boston

2010-01-18T20:07:00.002-05:00

Exactly 13 weeks from today, I'll line up in Hopkington to make my way to the city of Boston in the marathon. I first ran the race in 2003, coming off a great race at Chicago the previous fall. I made several mistakes in preparation, including running a 50k race in February as a "training run." I found out that fatigued me more than I thought. The race went terribly. I had thoughts of running under three hours, only to realize five miles in that I was in trouble. The final 16 miles weren't so fun. I finished in 3:30, sunburned, depleted and dejected.

This time will be different. After a break from much running due to an illness and some other stuff, I've strung together about a month of solid training. I'm only running four times a week. The idea is to make the runs productive, much like my Harrisburg preparation. This isn't the way I want to train, it's the way I have to train without aggravating my still-balky Achilles problem. I'm mixing in two nights of swimming to offset the missed miles. There's no real way to replace running miles, of course. When I start to get into the peak weeks of training, I'll probably add in another day of running.

So far, training is going well. Last week, I ran 30 miles and swam another two. My long run is up to 15 miles, without many problems other than regular Achilles soreness. Thanks to a stomach problem a month ago, I'm off ibuprofen entirely. I'm stuck with ice if stuff hurts.

That leaves the big question of a goal for Boston. I want to be completely realistic. I don't have the capacity or really interest this winter in killing myself in training. The course is very tough, too. With all that in mind, my goal is to qualify again for Boston with a 3:15. That works out to 7:30 miles. I would also like to run as close to a negative split as possible. Boston starts downhill and really makes you go out too fast. This time, I won't fall into that trap.

Year in Running/Cycling/Swimming

2010-01-04T17:54:00.003-05:00

I'm starting to really love DailyMile. One of the things it nails is community. People on DailyMile really do support one another. For me, it's nice but not incredibly important for my own motivation, but it's quite nice to see. What's more, I like seeing how other people train and, in particular, videos of where they run. The second thing DailyMile does nicely is analytics of your training. Today I was emailed a link to a page with my year in running/biking/swimming. The total mileage is screwy, since a mile running, biking and swimming is very different. The figure that most interested me is that I worked out 255 days. This is probably a little low. I'd prefer it to be closer to 300. The full report is here.

2010 Running Goals

2009-12-29T09:52:00.001-05:00

I’m not usually one for setting out New Year’s resolutions, but I like to set goals. With that in mind, I came up with my five running goals for 2010.

1. Revive the Pigdog: I’ve become a spotty blogger, both at @bmorrissey and here. It probably figures, since I spend my day writing for Adweek and Adfreak. My updates on DailyMile have also cut into writing here. That’s going to change in 2010. At least two posts to both the Pigdog and @bmorrissey each week, without fail.

2. Run a good Boston. One of my great running regrets is failing at Boston in 2003. In retrospect, it was the end of my greatest streak in running, starting with the 3:02 at Chicago that continued through the winter to my first 50k. I came to Boston hoping to break three hours. It didn’t happen. Looking back, I realize I was still screwed up from the 50k. This year, I’m finally going back to Boston. I want to run a solid race, hopefully under 3:15 so I qualify again for 2011.

3. Get healthy. I haven’t felt healthy running in some time. Harrisburg was encouraging because it made me realize I can run a pretty good marathon while dealing with my Achilles injury. The trick is to minimize the mileage through cross-training. That’s not going to fly in the long term. I need to figure out how to heal the Achilles through stretching, PT, something.

4. Go long. This might seem counter-intuitive to my getting healthy goal, but I’d like to do a 50-miler next year, probably the JFK 50. Ultras have always intrigued me. The closest I’ve come is a pair of 50ks. I loved them, mostly because they were low-key and more fun than big marathons. If I get through Boston in OK shape and figure out the Achilles, I’d love to arrange my fall around the JFK.

5. Have a running adventure. I haven’t had one of these in a while. Running is fun, at least it should be fun. I want to travel somewhere for a fun race, something like the Reach the Beach relay or a long trail run in a place of the country I’ve never been.

The Year in Running

2009-12-28T14:03:00.002-05:00

I started this year injured and pretty much end it not much better. That’s not to say it was a terrible year running. My big accomplishments were completing my first triathlon and running a decent marathon. In between, according to DailyMile, I traveled 1,008 miles and spent 134 hours running. (I was able to squeeze in another 75 miles swimming and 1,198 miles cycling.)

Overall, I’m pleased with how the year went. My Achilles still isn’t healed. That is an ongoing issue I want to put to rest in 2010. Running-wise, I feel like I did the best I could with the limitations I had. A 3:09 marathon is pretty good. My best running performance of the year was the 2:04 20-miler. My foray into the triathlon was interesting. I don’t think I raced particularly well, doing a 2:34, but I learned lots and was able to maintain fitness without running too much. What’s more, I got back into swimming, which is helping me get stronger and do real cross-training.

I might do a 2010 goals post. It could be fun to lay out actual goals for the New Year.

Race Report: Harrisburg Marathon

2009-11-09T10:21:00.002-05:00

I certainly never thought I'd run a marathon in Harrisburg. But things happen in life and you go with the flow. Leading up to the race, I felt mostly good, although I was bothered by lower leg muscle tightness. This is a long-term problem I've had. Naturally, I skipped massage or even the stick and kinda wished it away. Bad move. Saturday morning, I woke up with a severe leg cramp. My left leg was sore the rest of the day.

I went to Harrisburg with a few goals in mind. At the very least, I wanted to run under 3:15. A "good" race would be under 3:10. The miracle would be under 3, which I knew as far-fetched. I'm not a very good race strategist. I don't like to hold back early in races. So when we started out in Harrisburg, I ran pretty hard. Through mile 7, I was on 2:58 pace. It was here that I knew it wouldn't happen. The pace felt fine but I began to slow just a bit. If that's happening early in the race, it's a bad sign. This was my 15th marathon. There are enough marathons under my belt not to get too concerned about going out to fast. My theory is you need to test your limits, assess them realistically, then adjust. So I adjusted. By the halfway point, I was at 1:30 with full knowledge I'd slow down in the second half, which of course I did. My main goal during the last half was to feel pretty good. I made some terrible mistakes. First, I forgot to use Vaseline on my nipples. I didn't want to be one of these guys. That meant a pit stop at mile 16 to take care of that. The biggest error was in eating. Harrisburg only had water stations every 2.5 miles. I took a gel at mile 10.5, then missed one at 17.5. That meant my second gel came at mile 20 after a series of pretty brutal hills from 18-20. I felt spent by then. Finally, I needed to stop to pee. That's the first time I've had to do that during a marathon in many years. It seemed more a decision of comfort than anything else . The last six I ran really cautiously out of fear of cramping. It was probably the right decision because I started to have problems at the end, and felt absolutely terrible at the end.

The final result: 3:09:17. 36th place out of 909. The splits tell the tale of two races:

Mile 1: 7:00
2: 6:50
3: 6:43
4: 6:45
5: 6:48
6: 6:46
7: 6:54
8: 6:51
9: 6:47
10: 6:48
11: 6:56
12: 6:57
13: 7:05
14: 7:04
15: 7:04
16: 7:13
17: 7:13
18: 7:30
19: 7:25
20: 7:53
21: 7:40
22: 7: 38
23: 7:43
24: 7:53
25: 7:50
26: 8:02

Race Time

2009-11-06T17:43:00.002-05:00

It's time. There's about 40 hours until I start my 15th marathon. I've gotten nervous before each one. This is no different. There's always the phantom injuries, the sluggishness, irritability, then the doubts. My guess is it's always the fear of failure, not so much of running slowly but not reacting well if/when things go bad.

There's no prediction for this one. I'm relatively healthy. My Achilles isn't perfect but it's probably as good as it's been in over a year. My fitness is pretty good. I'm a bit wary of my endurance because I haven't been able to run as much during this training cycle. But in the end, it's whatever the day brings. I'll see how I feel at the start, and go from there. It might be a 7:30 pace feels good, could be 7:15. We'll see. I'm tempted to play it conservatively because of the weather forecast: sunny and high of 65. It shouldn't be that warm during the morning, but warmer than I'd like. Considering I've been carted off to the hospital twice from dehydration, I'm going to be careful, even though the local hospital is the title sponsor. Time to face the pigdog again.

Plan B

2009-09-29T21:37:00.002-05:00

Something that you quickly learn in distance running is things go awry. There seems to always be something during a long run that will surprise. The trick is figuring how to deal with the unexpected. The most frustrating mishaps are those that are self-inflicted. I'm feeling that way now. I planned to run the Philadelphia Marathon. In the back of my mind, until recently, I worried I wouldn't be able to do it because of my Achilles. So I procrastinated on the very basic necessity of marathon running: signing up for the race. You can imagine where this is going. The marathon is now sold out. So I'm moving on. I'm bummed because a few good friends are running the race, and I had plans to try to keep up with my friend Tom, who is on his way to a sub-three hour race. I was an idiot. No use dwelling on it.

Plan B is the Harrisburg Marathon. I think I went there once during a field trip. Maybe. It means moving up the race two weeks and compressing training. I'm fine with that. After the race on Sunday, I just want to get to the start healthy. I have enough time to add some needed endurance with a couple more 20s. Harrisburg is only three hours from NYC, and the race seems alright. I kinda like smaller marathons, although there are drawbacks. The major one is running alone. I love running alone most times, but it slows me down during races. I noticed in Indy and New Jersey times when nobody was around me. I have a feeling it'll be that way in Harrisburg. Still, I'm excited to run a new marathon and see a city I'd probably never see otherwise. Onward to Harrisburg.

A Very Good Day

2009-09-27T11:27:00.004-05:00

I haven't posted here in a while. Since the triathlon, I've gone back to running mainly, only I'm trying to cross-train more. It's gone alright, although I still have pain in my Achilles. My plan has been to cut down on junk miles and concentrate on four or five quality runs a week. That's worked pretty well.

Today, I put my fitness to the test. It's a little less than two months before the Philadelphia Marathon. I wanted to see where I am. The NYRR 18-Mile Marathon Tune-up was perfect for that. The day went better than I could have hoped. Going in, considering my 1:38 in the Brooklyn Half, I figured a 2:15 would be a good result. In the back of my mind, of course, I wanted to do better, particularly since I had a couple nice runs in the past few weeks.

I awoke to find a steady rain. This doesn't bother me too much, other than water sloshing in my shoes and some slippery lines in the park. Waiting around in the rain pretty much sucks. Since I ran the race pretty fast last year, I got put in the first corral. This worried me a bit because I'm not in that kind of shape. The first mile includes the Great Hill and came in at a respectable 7:26. I figured this was a nice pace to do for the first loop, then see how I felt. But then I started to go faster. The next mile was 7:14, then I dropped to 6:56. The thing is, I felt fine, just a little worried I'd blow up halfway through the race. The rest of the first six-mile loop went that way, as I locked in on a pace a bit over 6:50, depending on how hilly the mile was. I expected to slow down the second loop. Didn't happen. Most of the miles were sub-6:50. I started getting confident here because I'm always best in the middle mile. For whatever reason, I feel strongest then. I did the second loop faster than the first. I began to slow a bit in the last loop but surprisingly didn't give up too much time. Miles 15 and 16, for instance, were 6:46 and 6:47. I eased to a 6:52 for 17 before, incredibly, doing the final mile in 6:35.

The final result: 2:04:05, 6:53 pace. 75th place out of 3534. 20th in my age group.

Why? That's the question I keep going over in my head. I'm not training a ton -- my typical week tops out at 50 miles. The Achilles still isn't healed. Here's what I've got so far in my investigation:
1. I've allowed my body to heal more in training with swimming and sometimes cycling.
2. I'm eating better and dropped about five pounds since the tri. Ana doesn't like it, but carrying around less weight helps lots.
3. The Achilles isn't healed, but it is better, at least to the point where I'm not worried about pushing myself.
4. I've had some good quality runs lately.
5. I had an accidental taper because of a trip to San Francisco.
6. Being in the first corral put me with some fast people.
7. I had a couple great night's sleep.
8. The rain was annoying but helped me keep cool and ward off dehydration
9. I ran in lightweight trainers
10. I just had a good day.

That's the thing, the last one. I've run for 10 years now, and some days are great and others suck. There have been marathons I've run during both good and bad days. When things are good, they can be incredible. Today I felt light. There are very few feelings better than feeling strong after running 14 or 15 hard miles. There were times today when I felt apart from my body, almost observing it running. That hasn't happened in some time. The mystery is how to time the good days for race days. I don't have the answer to that.

The open question is what does it mean. That time works out to a marathon, naturally, slightly above 3 hours. Can I go under it finally? I'm not ready to say. But it's not outside the realm of possibility if I can train well over the next six weeks and avoid aggravating the Achilles.

Wow, Ironman Isn't for the Poor

2009-08-06T17:15:00.004-05:00

On a lark, I checked out the Coeur d'Alene Ironman, held next June. I couldn't really imagine doing an Ironman, but then I used to say the same thing about a marathon. Pretty much anything is possible, I figure, so long as your choice is finishing or risking embarrassment. In any case, the race is nearly sold out. The entry fee: $550. Really? Marathons are like $80. I think the triathlon I just did was $120. I paid like $20 to do a 50k in Brooklyn -- and it came with a post-race pizza party. $550 is a whole lot of money, isn't it? Then again, the thing would probably take me 11 hours, so it's like $50 an hour. I'm sure there's a good reason for the pricing with the infrastructure needed to run such a long race. Still, it's pretty eye opening. It says something about triathlons overall. The demographics are so high end. Even the Ironman has an "executive challenge series." Alas. That's a reason why, if we're talking about endurance stuff, my heart is with the ultramarathons, which tend to attract more weirdos than corporate bigwigs.

What's Next: Philly Marathon

2009-08-06T09:26:00.002-05:00

Even before the triathlon, I got to thinking what's next. The tri training was great. It's refreshing to do several different sports, rather than just one. No matter what, it got me to believe in the power of cross-training, something that probably could've saved me from injuries. A few friends are running the Philly Marathon in November, so I decided to aim for that. The timing is perfect: it's in about 16 weeks. My fittness base is pretty good right now. The main concern is how much I can ramp up the running safely. That's why I decided to take an unusual approach to my training.

Unlike last summer, I'm not going to do a high-mileage training program. I'm still a believer in the idea that if you want to run well you need to run lots. I'm also a realist. I can't start doing 60-mile weeks. And I'm not sure I want to. Instead, I'm crafting a training program around Pfitzinger's 55-mile plan with some important caveats. One is I'll only run four times a week. Just a year ago, this would be blasphemy for me. A couple years ago, I'd probably sneer at runners who prepared for marathons with so few workouts. Times change. The big difference is I'm not going to work out less. Instead, I'll ride once a week and swim two times per week. What I hope is this will mean a comparable fittness level and more quality runs. I want to eliminate junk miles and workouts where I'm going through the motions. Another change that will be tougher: run half my miles on soft surfaces. I'm committed to avoiding injuries this time around, even if it means sacrificing performance.

All these changes mean my goals for the race are different. I doubt I'll come anywhere close to three hours in the marathon. Right now, my guess is 3:20 is a much more doable goal, although I'm going to see where this new training regimen will take me. So far, so good. I've had some great workout this week and felt remarkably fresh. We'll see how the 45-mile bike ride in the morning goes.

First Is Always the Hardest

2009-07-26T19:40:00.002-05:00

Trying something new is hard. I remember my first marathon, in Philadelphia in 2000. I had no idea what I was doing or what to expect. I ended up running the race in something like 3:47, including some unforeseen walk breaks the last few miles that made me feel like a total failure. I learned. Within two years, I finished a marathon in 3:02.

So I approached the New Jersey State Triathlon with realistic expectations. Cycling is entirely new to me, and I took two decades off swimming. My main goal was to feel strong at the end. By that admittedly tame measure, I succeeded. The breakdown.

Pre-race: I got to the start area early enough to warm up plenty in the lake. My big dilemma was whether to wear a wetsuit. The water temp in Lake Mercer registered an incredible 77.9, meaning it was .1 within the legal zone for wearing a wetsuit. I was told to wear one if allowed because it makes swimming much, much easier. The purist in me blanched, and I didn't want to try something new on race day. In the end, I decided to dance with the girl I brung, so to speak, and swim in a suit. I knew I made the right decision once I got into the water, which by that point was at least 80 degrees.

My other concern was about my bike, particularly my complete inability to care for it. By luck, I asked a guy near me with a floor pump what he thought of my tire pressure. He told me they were "basically flat," so we added quite a bit more pressure. It gave me a lot of confidence knowing that at least my tires were right heading into the 23-mile bike.

Swim: I got a nice surprise in that nobody kicked me in the head. Overall, it was very civilized. What I struggled with is the vagaries of open-water swimming. I never felt comfortable I knew where I was or where I should be. That meant I tended to look up quite often and sometimes just stop swimming to assess the situation. There were collissions, probably about a half dozen times. These also slowed me down. Still, I finished up feeling OK. 31:40, rank: 341/743

Transition1: No, I didn't practice, and it showed. I ran past my bike, got confused, ran back again, still missed it. The whole thing was a total fiasco. I'm shocked I got out of there in four minutes. I was also struck by how much harder it was to run out of the water than I thought.

Bike: As much as I love the Tour de France, I'm not a good cyclist. Something about the bike makes me lazy. I tend to take it easy when I can. Maybe I just need to work at it more. Whatever the case, it was humbling. I got passed by dozens of people. The NJT marks your age on your calf, so I saw the numbers streaming by. When I saw 53, I finally picked it up a bit. The overall effect was dispiriting. It's no fun getting passed constantly, and I fell into a rhythm of ignoring it and concentrating on enjoying my ride, with a lot of focus on hydration and eating. In this area, I definitely succeeded, drinking a bottle of Gatorade and another of water and eating a gel. I felt ready to do well in the run. 1:14: 32. 428th.

Transition2: Much easier time, mostly because there wasn't much to do. I put on socks for the run, kept my sunglasses on, then took off.

Run: I'm a runner. I threw off my helmet and couldn't wait to get at the trail and find some of the people who passed me on the bike. I was hurting a bit at this point but I have a lot of faith in my ability to run through fatigue. Mostly, I did well. I started the first couple of miles at or below 7-minute pace. After mile 3, I eased up, mostly because I wanted to finish feeling alright and without blowing up. I picked off people the entire time, probably about 30 of the 40 who passed me on the bike. 45: 15. 68th.

All told, I finished in 2:37:42, smack dab in the middle of my age group. I'm OK with that, although I know I should do much better than 31/75 in my group. It's pretty clear what I need to work on to get better. For one, I have to get more comfortable in open water. My guess is I wasted a lot of energy taking short breaths and worrying about where I was. Cycling is a must. I just don't know what I'm doing out there. My bike times are an embarrassment. To put it into perspective, the finisher immediately before me rode seven minutes faster and the one following me rode nine minutes faster. That's crazy. The run is the run. I should do it at 7-minute pace or below, but it's not that big of a deal. I was within the top 10 percent in that category.

My big decision now is whether to find another race to work on those things, move up to the half Ironman or start training for a marathon in the fall.

Hiccups

2009-07-24T14:55:00.003-05:00

I've started reading an interesting book called Body, Mind and Sport. It's a little crunchy, preaching the need to connect the mind and body in exercise in a way that gets past the "no pain, no gain" mentality. I'm a little skeptical, because I've never thought the enjoyment of exercise being mutually exclusive from getting over pain. One part I do embrace is how it's the process that matters much more than the outcome. That made it quite easy for me to get over not breaking three hours in the marathon. I appreciated the training that got me to the point where I was in position to accomplish that.

Another important aspect I've found in distance running is to embrace the unexpected. In any long journey, things happen not quite as we expect. Every marathon has moments that go awry in some way. That can be what makes it interesting. My adventures in triathlon have already had curveballs, mostly because I haven't done enough planning. Today, I found out that if you don't make a rental car reservation quickly, there won't be cars anywhere in New York City. That was a bummer. But there's always a way. I'm now taking my bike on a NJ Transit train and hitching a ride with my uncle. If worse came to worst, I was willing to ride 15 or so miles to my aunt's and then to the race. Why not? I've had much worse before marathons, including a cancelled flight that made running the race impossible, severe stomach problems, etc.

I'm sure that won't be the first bump in the road, particularly since this is my first triathlon. My only hope is that the snafus are minor and don't involve something major during the swim or bike. I really don't want to try to change a flat in the midst of the race. That would suck. Other than that, I'm ready for whatever comes my way. I'm really going into this pretty blind. I have no idea how long it will take me, or how much it will hurt.

No instant gratification

2009-07-22T14:52:00.006-05:00

I've decided to try to update more regularly, even if just briefly. A friend of mine sent me a USA Today article about an organization to help the homeless get back on their feet through running programs. It would seem like people in such straits would have bigger fish to fry, but this makes total sense to me. Running can be very therapeutic, helps build self-esteem and gives a very helpful structure. The director of the program has a great quote summing it up: "It's a very egalitarian sport in the sense that running rewards effort. It gives people the strength to connect that with the recovery process. There's no instant gratification."

Tri Countdown

2009-07-20T14:00:00.003-05:00

I've been pretty terrible about updating the Pigdog. That's not right. In that time, I've continued to train for my first triathlon, which is now just six days away. Overall, it's gone fine, although my training hasn't been very focused. Instead of following a strict regimen, I've aimed to run twice a week, bike twice a week and swim twice a week. Within those, I try to do a long ride and run once a week. Here's how I feel going into the race in each discipline:

Swim: This is the great unknown. I put in enough time in the pool, I think, doing about 2000 yards each workout, usually with sets of 100s, then 200s, with some 400s. Lately, I've concentrated on doing longer sets without sacrificing form. I'm a mediocre swimmer.

Cycling: The bike hasn't been as easy as I thought. I probably thought my running fitness would totally carry over, but it hasn't. I've been hampered by being clueless on the bike, not knowing much of anything about how it works, what to do when something goes wrong, etc. This is an area I need to work on. Biking 24 miles on a flat course doesn't seem so bad to me, though.

Running: I feel great here. My Achilles is finally getting healed. The last few runs I've done have been great. The half marathon went alright, considering how little I run, and I've had several good runs since then.

So that brings me to my worries. They're all around the unknown. The marathon is familiar to me, I know the rhythms of it, what to expect and what will happen. The tri is different altogether, with lots more to consider. If I could do it over, I'd have done a sprint race first. Alas, no going back now. My concerns:

Surviving the swim: I haven't done any open water swimming. This was pretty dumb. I'm going to the try out swimming in the lake the day before and morning of the race. My main goal is to stay relaxed. To that end, like any new triathlete, I worry about getting kicked in the head and freaking out.

Gear: Do I wear a wetsuit? (It's unclear what the water temp will be.) Do I clip my shoes onto my pedals? Do I bring a tire pump in case of a flat? Is my bike working OK?

What I'm not worried about:

Fitness: I could be humbled by the tri, but I feel like I have plenty of fitness to complete it without much drama. The one thing I noticed on a brick workout is my heart rate elevates when running after cycling. I'll have to watch that. Still, I'm in great cardio shape and getting stronger in both cycling and swimming. The other week, I went for a 42-mile bike ride, then ran 5.75 miles at 7:15 pace. It wasn't that bad, either. So long as I stay relaxed and feel my way through the swim, I know I'll be fine.

A Very Belated Race Report

2009-06-08T22:06:00.002-05:00

My return to racing was, thankfully, uneventful. The most stressful part of the Brooklyn Half Marathon was getting to the start. Thanks to NYRR disorganization, I walked 45 minutes until arriving at registration. Then they didn't have my number. Then it was back another half mile to the start, barely in time. The day was pretty warm, even at 8am, mostly because the sun was strong. That made me even more cautious, since I don't have a good track record with the heat and I drank a couple glasses of wine the night before.

I'd forgotten my HRM, so I decided to go purely on feel. My guess was around the 7:30 mark would be pretty good. That's quite a bit slower than I've run before, but I'm only running twice a week now and frankly still getting over the Achilles injury. Thanks to the number snafu, I farther back that I should have been. This was a mixed blessing. It kept me from going out too fast, but I gave up time the first couple miles.

Mile 1: 8:07
Mile 2: 7:44
Mile 3: 7:32

The Brooklyn Half began in Prospect Park, which we'd circle twice for about seven miles. The first three miles brought us around to the top of the park. I was weaving through people the first couple miles but soon settled into a nice pace. It didn't feel too stressful.

Mile 4: 7:22
Mile 5: 7:42
Mile 6: 7:30

One of those miles is not like the other. Again, the NYRR came up small. At mile 5, I was on my second loop. I came around to the second water station to find no water. Now I'm not in the back of the pack or anything. The volunteers were doing what they could, but the race had 12,000 runners. I ended up grabbing a cup and scooping out my own water.

Mile 7: 7:33
Mile 8: 7:15
Mile 9: 7:24

These are the miles of a half I consider the middle miles. They're typically where I try to be strongest. This was doubly so because the course exited the hills of Prospect Park for a straight shot down Ocean Parkway to Coney Island. I felt pretty good and tempted to pick up the pace. But I held back because I could tell I wasn't as well-trained as I'd like. It wasn't a fitness thing, just a running thing. My body wasn't used to exerting that much running effort. Cardio-wise, I was fine.

Mile 10: 7:28
Mile 11: 7:31
Mile 12: 7:25
Mile 13.1: 8:14

Overall, I'm pretty pleased with how I finished the race. I started feeling tired at the end but never had any real problems. My effort was moderate enough to have a brief conversation with another runner on the boardwalk as we looked for the finish line.

Final result: 1:38:53, 7:32 pace. Leaving out the first two miles and the cup fiasco, my miles were all at 7:33 or below. That strikes me as about right. One thing I noticed that pleased me is I was a little stronger on the hills in Prospect Park thanks to a little extra upper body strength from swimming. Still, I doubt I can run fast again while training equally, if not more, in cycling and swimming. I'm just happy I can still run a decent half marathon.

Back in the Arena

2009-05-26T08:15:00.003-05:00

I wrote on my other blog about the need for people to get "in the arena," to take chances and risk failure. I've decided it's time I do that with running, even though I've been concentrating on other sports lately with the triathlon training. It's time to race again. I'm doing the Brooklyn Half Marathon on Saturday. I have no idea how it will go. I've been running just twice a week for months. That's not all that much, clearly, although my fitness level is alright thanks to all the biking and swimming I've done. We'll see how that nets out along the route from Prospect Park to Coney Island. The last time I ran a race, I did a 1:24 in the Seaside Half Marathon. That's definitely not happening on Saturday. I'll run by feel, conservatively, hoping instead for a 1:40 or so. It'll be nice to feel the pre-race nerves again and the relief of finishing.

Bicycle Dreams

2009-05-22T20:38:00.003-05:00

Now that I'm cycling I can appreciate more how hard it is. Going 40 miles is more than enough for me. What about 3,000 miles in 10 days? There's a new film out, Bicycle Dreams, following cyclists trying to do just that during the Race Across America. From the trailer, it looks like there are plenty of encounters with the Pigdog along the way. The movie site has some great descriptions of the participants, who it must be said all seem a little nuts.

Why to run

2009-05-21T11:41:00.002-05:00

I loved, loved, loved this op-ed in The Wall Street Journal about running. It perfectly captured what runners know and non-runners often don't get. I'm particularly partial to the part that details the odd pride runners take in the semi-masochistic side of the activity. My own armchair analysis of why this excites us is because it confirms we're truly alive and can face anything.

At the Olympic trials in Charlotte, N.C., in 1996, marathoner Bob Kempainen vomited a bright green stream of Gatorade on national television, then calmly accelerated (running a 4:44 mile) and sprinted to victory. World record-holder Grete Waitz did her business on the side of the road, then pulled up her shorts and went on to win the 1984 New York City Marathon. Every runner has a tale about a port-a-potty just missed, a coffee that wouldn't stay down, a blister that burst and filled a sock with blood. We tell the stories with pride, metaphors for our own indomitability.

Confession: I searched Google to find a clip of Kempainen. It made it into a Nike commercial.

Trail Running

2009-05-17T16:42:00.003-05:00

I love living in a big city. There's so much energy, so much to do, so many kinds of people. I even love the running here, although it's a specific type of urban running. My (running) dream is to run trails. Why? Watch.

UltraRunning from Matt Hart on Vimeo.

Working Out the Kinks

2009-05-10T11:22:00.003-05:00

Recovering from injuries is essential for running. The fact is it is a traumatic activity. Injuries are inevitable, it seems more so as I get older. I'm now determined to get healthier, no matter what I need to do. That led me to Chinatown on Friday for my second ever foot massage. Those guys really get into on the feet and below the knee. And guess what? It helped. The foot massage and a few outings with The Stick have improved things. Next up: a sports massage on Thursday. I found the woman through the NYRR Web site. In a series of email messages, she assured me massage and active-isolated stretching can help with my lower leg muscle tightness. I'm eager to see what she does Thursday -- and how much it hurts.

The upside of this recent injury is my swimming has improved. I'm at the point where 2,500 yards isn't so bad. More important, I feel like I'm swimming pretty efficiently. I'd like to get back on the bike and running in the park. That will happen. For now, I'm taking consolation knowing I'm improving in at least on discipline and becoming stronger.

Injuries

2009-05-05T21:48:00.003-05:00

I realized over the weekend that it's been a year since I ran a marathon. This will turn out to be my longest time between marathons since I started running them in 2000. In that time, I've run thousands of miles and been asked, countless times, "How do you not get hurt?" Maybe it was just luck. Maybe that's run out. Ever since the summer, when I made my semi-psychotic push to run under three hours, I haven't been right. It started with the Achilles, which is something that I haven't healed altogether. Then some plantar fasciitis appeared on my right foot, followed finally by a strained calf or tendinitis on the same side. As an Italian friend once said to me at a terrible party, "This is very much the suck."

It's left me wondering how to get better. I've always been a firm believer that all injuries can be diagnosed back to a root cause that can be corrected. Many running injuries arise from the nature of the sport: it's a repetitive, high-impact activity. But lately, I've been training for a triathlon, only running twice a week and doing two other workouts in both swimming and biking. That's what makes this latest injury so frustrating. What all my latest injuries have in common is muscle tightness in my lower legs. This is, I believe, the curse of genes. I'm incredibly inflexible, always have been. For a few years now, I've relied on active-isolated stretching to make me slightly more flexible. That's been alright, although I can sometimes be indifferent to it. That's probably catching up with me now. The good thing is my injuries seem treatable. I don't have knee problems that can spell doom. For the next few days at least, I'm sticking to swimming, hoping to stay in some semblance of shape and heal.

swam 2,000 yards in 50 minutes

Getting Passed

2009-04-12T13:46:00.003-05:00

There's nothing more humbling than getting passed. All of us have to deal with it, some more than others. As I got faster at running, it happened less frequently. Ninety-five percent of the time I do the passing. This has been nice for my ego. But it's a mirage, of course. There's always someone much faster than me in the park, only he didn't start at the right place to pass me. It's dumb luck.

Races are useful reminders of this. My worst running experience was at the Boston Marathon in 2003. That seems strange to say considering I had one marathon where I collapsed 100 yards from the finish and was hospitalized. The reason Boston sucked was I went in cocky. I'd just shaved 25 minutes off my marathon time to run a 3:02 in Chicago. Heading to Boston, I figured I'd run a 2:55. That didn't happen. I went out way too fast on a warm day and realized at mile 10 that the next 16 miles would suck. The thing that made it so bad was getting passed. Not a few people, but dozens, maybe hundreds of people went by me while I proceeded to run the second have of the race a half hour slower than the first. There wasn't much I could do about it. Still, I never felt worse after a race. I think I felt sorry for myself because of the passing.

I've been thinking more about getting passed now that I'm swimming and biking. On Friday night, I went to the YMCA to do laps. I swam for years as a kid. I honestly think the only thing that got me through practices at Whitemarsh was the awful feeling of the person behind me touching my toes. In the grown-up world, few people are that aggressive, although it does happen in NYC. At this point, I'm a mediocre swimmer. On a typical day, there are more people slower than me than faster. That leaves quite a few people faster than me. Swimming is so technical that the faster swimmers can surprise me. On a completely surface level, I feel like I'm more fit. But they have much, much more skill and experience, so I'm passed by men and women, the skinny and lithe and the not so much. It reminds me how I must improve my technique, not so much to keep from getting passed but to spend less energy. The hardest part of going from distance running to swimming is the urge to gut it out. That will kill a triathlon because you'll leave it all in the water and gain very little.

The same is true on the bike. I'm just now riding outside, keeping myself to loops in Central Park. My goal right now is just getting comfortable riding and putting in time in the saddle. Like the pool, I'm a middle of the pack cyclist. I'm not riding a Cervelo or anything, and I'm not used to going fast. It frankly scares me to go too fast down hills. I pass many more people than pass me, but still cyclists of all shapes, sizes and ages motor by me. My attitude is c'est la vie, excpet for one circumstance: on a big hill. Here, I've tried to replicate my running attitude, which is attack the hill. I love passing people on hills. It might be a toughness thing. This tact in cycling has met with mixed success. I get too excited early on in the hill, I think, rather than finding a gear that will let me consistently power up the incline. A few times today, I found myself in the humbling position of looking for a lower gear when there wasn't one on the Great Hill in Central Park. Once a guy in jeans on a mountain bike went by me. Ouch.

I accept these things in stride to a degree. Modest success in running doesn't automatically translation to new activities. I'm improving, which is really the only important thing. Getting passed is a useful reminder of how much more work needs to be done. It still bugs me, though.

Toughness

2009-04-10T21:35:00.002-05:00

"I don't run to see who's faster, I run to see who's tougher." -- Steve Prefontaine

Like many runners, I went through a period where I was mildly obsessed with Steve Prefontaine. He was fierce, brave and, above all, tough. Looking at videos of his races, you see he just had more guts and at some point was prepared to suffer more. Most of us aren't out there doing that. We're just trying to keep in shape after sitting in an Aeron all day. Yet when I run, or nowadays swim and bike, I always think endurance stuff come back to toughness. It's not quite the same as persistence. Persistence is keeping at it, through thick and thin. But it's toughness that makes you feel OK with going beyond what's comfortable. At some point of a race, more is asked. My advice to marathoners like Lam before a race is always the same: Be tough.

Not Boring

2009-03-28T17:29:00.004-05:00

The non-runner people often say running is boring. I don't understand this. Part of me thinks they're not interesting people because being alone with your thoughts for a long period of time is pretty fascinating. But it's also a great way to get out and about and see cool stuff. This is particularly true in urban settings. I went on a long run today that took me from 100th Street on the Upper West Side down to Battery Park. There were so many people out and so many things to see and hear. (Another reason not to wear an iPod.) The best was down in Battery Park, where I ran by a couple out for walk. This is the only snippet I picked up from their conversation.

Guy to well-endowed girlfriend: "They're big if they jiggle. They jiggle."

15 miles, 2:01:09

Persistence

2009-03-26T22:18:00.003-05:00

These are tough times. People are losing their jobs and dealing with serious personal financial problems. It's not fun. It's also not going away overnight. I don't mean that in a pessimistic way. An important lesson running teaches is realism. You can't wish away the hard stuff. The way to deal with the inevitable pain of training hard and running long distances is to accept it as real, yet at the same time recognize it won't kill you and can be overcome. It is, in short, about persistence. This is a theme Obama keeps returning too, smartly I think. He had this to say today:

I'm under no illusions that a better day will come about quickly or easily. It's going to be hard. But as I said the other night at my press conference, I'm a big believer in the idea of persistence -- the idea that when the American people put their mind to something and keep at it, without giving up, without turning back, no obstacle can stand in our way, and no dream is beyond our reach.

That's it. Lots of people want to know the secret to running well, or accomplishing a certain goal, whether it's a 10k race, a marathon or even a triathlon. I think it's quite simple: persistence. Keep at it, day in and day out, be consistent and realistic but always hopeful.

Running + Simplicity

2009-03-23T21:11:00.002-05:00

I got home from work tonight a little before 8pm. It was cold for late March, I'd worked a pretty long day and I'd already worked out the past six days. Still, I went out for a run. Thanks to my injury and the tri training, I haven't run much. In some ways it's been a nice break. Learning new activities is interesting, as is seeing if my fitness translates. My running has suffered. That's OK. I'm still not healed. I expected little from tonight's run. It started bad. The wind was really strong and stung my legs and face. I felt a little tired. But then, when I hit the dirt trails in Riverside for the first time in months, I fell back into it. For whatever reason, I got one of those runs that feels wonderful, clicking off the miles while the mind wanders. It had been a long time since I'd lost myself in a run, but it reminded me what's great about running.

I miss that core simplicity to running. I got home, put on shorts, a shirt and shoes, got my keys and watch and went. I like that. Yes, it's possible to get caught up in the different training regimens, VO2 max levels, lactate threshhold intervals and the rest of it, but at it's core, running is simple. You get out of it, whether that's a PR, losing weight or decreasing stress, what you put in. I firmly believe that.

With the triathlon, I'm facing something a little different. Just getting a bike is a chore. I've learned about carbon forks, shimano, tiagra, brick workouts, etc. The training book I bought looks a lot like a physics textbook. Scheduling workouts to an ironclad schedule seems pretty necessary. I need to plan ahead workouts with what I pack for work. That part of it can be a drag. The tri is many things, simple is not one of them.

Then there's the tri type and the running type. When I see the tri guys work out in Central Park, I see Type A people. Cyclists during a hard workout just look aggressive. They travel in packs and can even yell at people. You don't get that with distance running. It attracts the introspective types that relish the crucible of the lonely long run. I'm looking forward to the rest of training, but I'm pretty certain I don't want to trade being a runner for being a triathlete.

Tri Update

2009-03-15T16:29:00.004-05:00

Wow. It's been nearly a month since I've updated. No excuses, just lazy. I'm getting used to a different kind of training. So far, I'm finding it mentally and physically easier. On the mental side, there's so much variety that there isn't burn out. I'd get up sometimes this summer, ready for a 14 mile run and just dread it. Getting out of the apartment was hard. Running hard six times a week, week in and week out, that's tough. Now, I'm bouncing from different things. It makes each workout seem somewhat new. It helps I'm learning new sports -- and seeing improvement. On the physical side, there's less wear and tear. This is the main reason I'm giving the triathlon a go. My body needs some time off the pounding of the road. Swimming and cycling are exhausting, but there's no lingering aftereffects.

I'm happy with how training has gone so far. I'm doing six workouts a week on average. I do each discipline twice. Maybe I'll increase that as I get really into the training. For now, it works. I can live a semi-normal life and still get in a bunch of workouts. Today I registered for the tri: The New Jersey State Triathlon on July 26. I'm doing the Olympic Distance. That leaves me about 17 weeks or so. Plenty of time. My progress report:

Running: Only going out twice a week is strange. I've definitely lost some running fitness. My body just isn't in a groove. What I noticed about hard training in running is how I'd get my body almost used to the pounding. I'd have some of my best workouts after five straight days running. With only a couple times out there a week, it's more like starting over each time. This week I did 17 miles, a 6 miler and an 11. Last week, I ran 22 miles. As I cycle more, I'm sure I'll start to curtail the long runs. Running won't be my problem in the race. It's the other stuff I need to figure out.

Swimming: Getting back in the pool has been great. I can feel myself getting stronger. The first couple times, I wondered what the hell was going on. Things ached that only got sore when I'd move apartments. As time has gone by, the workouts are more manageable. My latest thing is to swim ladders, starting with a 25, then 50, 75 and so on up to 200, then going back down again. With a 100 warmup and cool down, that's a 2000-yard workout, about right for me at this point. This week I swam 4,000 yards. Last week, I went 4,900. Even my flip turns have improved, thanks in part to some YouTube research.

Cycling: This is the mystery. Cycling is so key to the tri. It's over half the race when you break it down. At this point, I have no idea how I'll be on the bike. I'm riding an exercise bike at the gym while I prepare myself for dropping money on a road bike. After going to the bike shop today, I'm hopeful I can get a decent bike that won't make me poor. My goal is to start riding outdoors next weekend. This week, I put in 41.3 miles on the bike. Last week I covered 37 miles. I've been told time in the saddle and heart rate are most important. After fits and starts, I'm getting my heart rate to a decent level, mostly around the high 120s and spiking to 140 or so when the bike encounters a "hill" in the random setting. Today's ride was 1:18, a decent amoung of time to sit in a YMCA staring a mirror.

The Week in Training

2009-02-16T16:52:00.002-05:00

I'm starting to get the hang of triathlon training. It's fun. The best part is the variety, the worst part is the planning. In New York City, something as simple as going for a swim isn't exactly simple. Last Monday, it meant five people to a lane and an ornery French dude in a bikini who nearly got into a fight with another swimmer. Just out of circumstance, I ended up working out every day. This isn't ideal, but I'm not at the point where I'm doing two workouts a day -- or even brick workouts. Here are the tallies:

Running: 2x, 19 miles. I should probably ease off the running somewhat. I went for a 12.5 mile run on Saturday at about 8:00 per mile, too quick. I'd rather use that energy on the bike and in the pool.

Swimming: 3x, 3.7 miles. By the end of the week, I got more comfortable with flip turns. Man, it's a long way from Whitemarsh Country Club showdowns with Manufacturers to chasing the line in a YMCA pool in Greenwich Village.

Cycling: 2x, 31.3 miles. Both rides were on stationary bikes. Not ideal. I'm wondering whether to try spin classes and go at my own pace. I'm a little wary b/c I picture a spin class with loud music and a maniac instructor. That would be way too much to handle from silent runs in the dark by myself.

Total distance covered: 54 miles

Another Reason Why I Love Running

2009-02-11T21:38:00.005-05:00

I admire toughness. It comes in many different forms. One of the most satisfying parts of life is being tested and coming through. Most of us will never be tested as much as this NYC firefighter. Check out his full story at Runner's World. Here's the first video of the series. (Thanks to Tim Wilson for pointing this out.)

The Week in Training

2009-02-08T21:27:00.004-05:00

This was sorta the first week of triathlon training. Right now, I'm just getting used to doing a variety of things, rather than just run. It's different. For one, tri training will require a lot more planning. Running requires some planning, but not nearly as much if I'm going to squeeze in nine workouts a week. I'm not there yet. The variety seems to make recovery easier. Running all the time gets super tiring for me. Learning to swim again is hard without long recovery. All in all, I'm OK with how the week went. I worked out six of seven days, although one swim was short because I had to do an interview.

Run: 2x; 16.75 miles: I stuck with a long run (11 miles) because the weather was really nice. Running is going to take a back seat for a bit while I get comfortable with swimming and cycling.

Swim: 2.5x; 4600 yards. There was an abbreviated session of just 600 yards. The other two were 2,000 yard swims, done in sets of 100s. I'll need to come up with real swim workouts. First, build a base -- and get comfortable again with flipturns. The low point: I got a terrible cramp in my calf getting out of the pool on Thursday. Writhed around in pain on the deck for a little. It's still a little sore.

Cycle: 1x; 50 minutes. Today was my first time on a spin bike. I was a little perplexed. Kevin, my tri advisor, said to keep the cadence high and focus on pulling through the spin. I tried to do this. The spin bike, though, seems to kinda take off on its own. My heart rate only broke 100 toward the last 10 minutes. The average for the session was a mere 97. That's clearly not enough. Still, it was the first cycle. I'll improve.

Foot massage: 1x, 30 minutes. This was a day of firsts. The Chinatown foot massage places always scared me. But I was convinced to give it a try. Not bad. There were a few delicate moments when he got to my Achilles on my left leg and calf on the right leg.

Overall: This was a slow start to training. I wouldn't even say I'm training yet. The key now is to get used to dong a variety of workouts, particularly in the disciplines I don't know, and getting a schedule where I can do enough. Stamina-wise, it was an easy week. The only hard workout was my last swim, which for some reason was drudgery. I kept getting lapped, which didn't help.

Marathon Hiatus

2009-02-03T13:20:00.004-05:00

The last several months have been frustrating, at least from a running perspective. I went through too much denial about my injury, then basically hoped it would heal itself. I'm back to where I can run 25 miles a week. On Sunday, I even went on a 9-mile run. Not bad. Something is not quite right. I still love to run, but I'm tired of it a bit. I trained so hard for the sub-3 marathon. It exhausted me, stripped away 10 pounds, and, worst of all, left me with a nagging injury.

I need a change of pace for a bit. About 10 days ago, I finally joined a gym. I went totally old school by choosing the YMCA. Getting back into the pool was a big factor. As you can see from the photo, I used to swim as a child. (I'm the one in the front. As one unnamed party said, "You are a different scale than your family.") A couple times last week and the last two days, I've swum, nothing serious, just a bunch of laps. Today I did 2,000 yards. That's about an 8k. It's strange to swim again. My arms get sore, there's lactic acid buildup, and flip turns confuse me. Yet I like it. I zone out in the water; it exhausts me. The upside: no soreness. Muscles can get a little sore but there's none of the trauma of running that's sometimes left me feeling like someone ran over me in a van.

I want to do a triathlon. I'm not running a marathon during the spring. For the past few months, I haven't trained and just run aimlessly. A tri is a new challenge and something to focus on. There's a lot of work to be done. I don't even own a bike, and riding about 20 miles with JPSCalifornia made my legs shake a bit. Still, my cardio levels are presumably high and the endurance part shouldn't be a problem. It should be interesting to see how much the years of running translate to new activities. I'm clueless about training and getting help with it. I'll swim and bike at the Y the rest of the winter, as well as run, then get a road bike. Not at all sure if I should settle for a sprint or do an Olympic distance. Maybe both. It should be humbling.

No matter what, though, I'm still a runner. Murakami talks about this in "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running." He's done many triathlons but still considers himself a runner. "For a runner like me, what's really important is reaching the goal I set for myself, under my own power. I give it everything I have, endure what needs enduring, and am able, in my own way, to be satisfied."

Swim: 2,000 yards, 44 minutes

The Week In Running

2009-01-25T21:15:00.004-05:00

It's been a while since I've had enough running worthy of a wrap-up post. This was my first semi-normal week running since screwing up my Achilles. The long time off has been frustrating, to say the least. It hasn't all been off, but I haven't felt like a runner since late October. I'm heavier and slower, but that's OK. The Achilles still aches sometimes, but it's slowly improving. I'm not overdoing it. More than all that, I feel like a runner again. On Monday I ran in the snow, just five miles. What this meant, though, was working harder than I have in some time, enough to feel sore the next couple of days. I missed that. When I finished my "long" run of 7 miles on Saturday, I stopped in my local deli for a chocolate milk. That's the same routine I'd do when I'd run 14 miles before work this summer and fall. I'm not back yet by any stretch. I'll feel that way after stringing together a bunch of 25-mile weeks.

Weekly mileage: 27

Recovery Update

2009-01-24T16:46:00.002-05:00

There is so much denial tied up in injuries. It took me too long to accept my Achilles problem. Even after realizing I'd miss Philly, I held out hope of running a winter marathon and then Boston. I came around to the seriousness of the Achilles problem only gradually. Right now, I'm at the point where I just want to get better, while getting back into a regular running pattern. Bit by bit, I'm getting there. This week, I'm on pace to run 26 miles, including my first hourlong run in three months. The downside: I run very slowly. How slow? Today's pace was 8:39. Still, I'm happy to run five times a week and start to again have a "long" run. Today's seven miles will become eight next week, and I'll go from there. I won't run a winter or spring marathon with an eye toward getting healthy to train hard again for the fall.

7 miles, 1:00:35

Missing

2009-01-18T11:10:00.003-05:00

It hit me the other day. I last went for a long run 2.5 months ago. I miss them. Don't get me wrong, I should be thankful I can run at all. I'm up to doing 25 miles a week, five miles at a shot. The pace is slow, the Achilles still gets a bit sore afterward, and I still gobble Advil to take care of any inflammation. Overall, I should be happy with what I can do. Still, I don't want to run like that. It's something I can't shake. Maybe that's selfish or delusional. I miss setting out for a couple hours, passing through neighborhood after neighborhood on the West Side or grinding out loops in Central Park. I miss passing through into that zone where my body goes on autopilot and I lose myself into my thoughts. I do miss feeling spent and achy after 20 miles. Right now, though, as much as I want to continue the long runs, I can't. That's pretty frustrating. Deep down, I'm convinced it'll work out.

Running and Reading

2009-01-13T22:20:00.005-05:00

Brad Feld, a VC whose blog I read, had a great post today. Brad funds tech companies and runs marathons on the side. I envy him for living in Boulder and doing the trails out there in altitude. I only spent four days in Boulder but fell in love with the running options it has. Brad also thinks about what running means for his life, how he thinks and where it fits with who he is. I love that stuff. Today he posted an oddly affecting video from Will Smith back in his Fresh Prince and Jazzy Jeff days. He's speaking at a Nickelodeon awards show about the keys to life. "Running and reading," he tells the crowd. He pretty much puts his finger on the Pigdog, talking about how in running you get so tired a little person inside (the Pigdog) tells you to quite. "If you learn to defeat that person when you're running, you'll learn to not quit when things get tough in your life," he says. Reading gives you perspective because others have dealt with the same stuff you're confronting. Wise.

The HRM Chronicles

2009-01-13T22:07:00.003-05:00

I've been about as good at updating the Pigdog as I have running. This is a strange period for me. I'm not completely healed from the Achilles injury, yet I can comfortably run up to 20 miles a week or so. After the tongue-lashing from Anonymous, I've tried to enter "21st century training." That's meant wearing a heart monitor three of the last four runs. (One was an Eagles victory celebration run that didn't need my heart rate recorded. I'm sure it was off the charts.) So far, so OK. I don't really like wearing the thing or the overly complicated system. My runs have been in the 8:00 per mile range with my heart rate around 128-130. Is this right? I have no idea. The usual formula for finding training pace is to find the maximum heart rate. I'm 36. That gives me a max heart rate of 184. That would put my effort during these runs at about 70 percent. As far as I can tell, that's about right for an easy, normal run. Right now, I'm not sure what I do with the heart rate info. It's nice to know, but I haven't figured out what zones to keep my runs in just yet. Besides, I'm not really doing radically different workouts. I go for easy 4.5-5 mile runs.

The more interesting thing for me is healing the Achilles. That's when I can get back to training for real. The data stuff is interesting, yet I don't quite see how it would be anything more than a guide. I don't want to just follow numbers on a watch all the time. My guess is I'd use it to set a baseline for training, with particular emphasis on using the HRM to keep recovery runs as true recovery.

Changes

2009-01-03T11:29:00.004-05:00

Pigdog commenter Anonymous had some serious advice for me after my wrapup post. For a while, Anonymous has pointed out the flaws in my training. Of course, he's probably onto something. I've tended to do runs too hard too often. My injury recovery plan, if you can call it that, was to mostly hope it went away. So maybe it is time to make changes. The first one: a heart-rate monitor. I used to think these were for old people so they don't drop dead jogging around the park. I realize I need help figuring out my training pace. For the most part, I don't think I trained too fast in the leadup to Philly. But I let myself slip in October, and I paid the price. A HRM should help keep me in check. Right now, I need to get my Achilles healthy. I stopped myself from running yesterday because it was sore. I'll go out today for a couple easy miles. I'm running at about 8-8:15 pace, nothing too strenuous. It will be interesting to see what the HRM has to say about what's an easy pace for me. I have a feeling it will be very slow. We'll see.

The Year in Running and Looking Ahead

2008-12-31T11:38:00.002-05:00

It's time for the end of year blog post. The running year was mostly successful. I began it with a very simple goal: run a solid marathon after two regrettable ones in Delaware and Indy. Training in the winter months went well enough, and I ran what I think was a great Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati. Over a tough course, I did a 3:11 and stayed solid through most of the race. That gave me confidence to turn my thoughts back to 2:59. I don't know why running under three hours is so important to me. It's an arbitrary number. I've run 3:01 -- what the difference. But then goals are like that. We set out to do something because we can. The many weeks of the Pfitizinger program were the hardest running I've ever done. I never thought I'd do 70-mile weeks. Running truly became second nature to me. As much as I'd grumble sometimes getting up early to run 14 or 15 miles before work, I'd love it. The solitude, the weariness, everything. It left me in great shape, even allowing me to run my best half marathon in 1:24. Of course, I didn't run my sub 3 marathon because of the Achilles injury. This was the disappointment of the year. It's not something I've dwelt on too much. I don't regret anything. The months of hard training were their own reward. Races are just races. The last month or so has been all about recovery.

So what about 2009? Right now, I just want to get my Achilles healthy. My original thought was to run a marathon in Florida this winter. That's not going to happen. I might also skip Boston this spring. I want to diversify my exercise a bit. Still, I'm a runner. I have many running goals that remain unaccomplished. In 2009, I will run a sub 3 marathon. I was in shape to run a 2:55 easily this fall. I learned a lot from my injury. It will be easier to know when to back off in the training. So that's it. I toyed with the idea of running every day before realizing that's a bad move. Ultras still intrigue me, but they can wait.

Recovery

2008-12-30T16:16:00.003-05:00

Recovery is hard. Don't get me wrong, it's much better than not running at all. The hardest part is knowing how much to do and how hard to go. My instinct has always been to run harder uphill. That doesn't work sometimes. I decided against seeking a medical opinion of my Achilles. It seems clear to me I have a classic overuse injury that needs time to heal. Total rest wasn't doing it for me, though. I spent most of six weeks not running much at all. Last week, I took a page from Dr. Pribut and started running regularly again. At this point, I'm up to 4.5 miles at a pace around 8 minutes per mile. I ran the last five days, although once was only a mile after I had too many beers and got excited by the Eagles game. Am I going to long or too hard? I don't know. I go by feel, yet hold myself back from going as hard as I'd like. It feels strange to finish runs not very tired. Whereas I missed running before, I now miss feeling spent. As a diversion -- and under, ahem, encouragement -- I'm diversifying into strength training. First up is the very popular 100 pushup challenge. I haven't technically begun the program just yet. I can do 30 pushups in a row, sometimes 35. Yeah, that sucks, but I'm a runner not a lifter. It seems like I can get to 100 pushups in 3-4 weeks. This is a prelude to my big step: joining a gym. I've never belonged to one of those god-forsaken chambers. The frontrunners are Crunch and New York Health and Racquet, both of which offer a corporate discount. Let me know any input. I like NYHRC because it has a pool at the Upper West Side location.

Starting Over

2008-12-21T14:37:00.003-05:00

All runners go through the same stuff, from the very fastest to the most plodding. There's a certain kinship because of that. I'm getting in touch with the casual runner set. For the past few weeks, I've started over, running about 3.5 miles a couple times a week. I run slowly, about 8:15-8:30 per mile, often around the Reservoir. My Achilles is better, but it's not fully healed. My fitness has mostly evaporated too. It's hard to believe that a couple months ago I'd run 15 miles before work and did a 1:24 half marathon. That's how it goes, though, and I've grown to appreciate every run. There are times you grow complacent and don't appreciate how incredible it is to have something. I miss running the way I want to run.

Nike Blows Recall

2008-12-07T21:30:00.005-05:00

As some might recall, I had major problems with the Nike+ Sportband. It wasn't accurate, then simply stopped working when I wore it in the rain. Turns out I wasn't the only one having problems. Nike last month recalled the Sportband, or as Businessweek's headline calls a "faulty running tool." The problem: moisture gets into the display and busts it. Looks like I can get my $59 back, unlike those who suffered through The Human Race. Here's my problem: let's say I hear about this recall. What would I do? I plugged Nike+ Sportband into Google. I got a link to the Nike site. I expected to find the recall notice and explanation there. Nope. Instead, I'm just directed to a page for another (apparenlty functioning) Nike product, the Inspector Gadget-sounding Nike+iPod WatchRemote. That's kinda crap. I'm searching for one product that's been recalled, and Nike swaps in another product it wants to sell. Nike made a big point of telling BusinessWeek this is a "voluntary recall," yet it's not making it very easy for poeple that got this shitty product to find out Nike knows it's shitty. (It's paying for a Google ad, but it directs to its main e-comerce page, not recall details.) Yet again, we have the image versus reality problem rearing its head.

Recovery

2008-12-07T20:44:00.002-05:00

I went two weeks without running. It sucked. I've written before how running has to become like brushing your teeth. The trouble is, can you imagine not brushing your teeth? Hopefully not. Going from 70 miles a week to 0 is not something I'd suggest. The last few weeks were hard. On Friday, I'd had enough. I laced up my shoes, pulled on my cold-weather clothes and set out for Central Park. My first steps were tentative. It was all so familiar, yet at the same time I was tentative. My idea run for a half hour at an easy pace, probably about 8:15 per mile. My route was to Central Park and around the Reservoir. The soft, flat surface of the Reservoir seemed like just what I needed. About 30 minutes later, I was finished. My initial feeling: relief. I missed running. Even going just a few miles at a pace I'd consider excruciating just a month ago was great. The next day, I didn't have much soreness. I went back out for another 3.5 miles today. Now the Achilles is a bit sore. This is probably going to be a bit by bit thing. The key will be running enough to get some blood flowing, but not too much that I just perpetuate the problem. It's crazy when I think back to how hard I was training not that long ago. That's how things go sometimes. Setbacks are inevitable but temporary.

3.5 miles, 30:28

Moving Forward

2008-11-30T17:17:00.003-05:00

I've gotten over the disappointment of not running Philly. My main concern now is getting back to running. I miss it. My problem: I don't know what to do. For the past three-plus weeks, I've basically stopped running. This is starting to drive me batty. But I'm trying to listen to my body, something I clearly failed to do initially. My Achilles still hurts. It's not a pain that causes me to limp, but it's a dull ache that's greater in the morning or when I've been sitting for a period of time. Dr. Pribut has always been my main source for injury advice. His take is interesting: he doesn't counsel completely ceasing running and recommends against stretching. At this point, I don't know what to do. Part of me is scared to run. I went out for a run 10 days ago that was OK, nothing terrible. But I don't want to end up running 20 miles a week and never getting better. My impulse is to find some cross-training activity and take a break from running for December. This means getting over my gym-phobia and accepting I'll lose quite a bit of running fitness. The other alternative is to bite the bullet and visit a doctor, another course of action I'm not crazy about.

Limitations

2008-11-20T16:53:00.004-05:00

There's a great quote in The Lore of Running about what running taught the author, Timothy Noakes, about life: "It has taught me who I am and, equally important, who I am not." Lots of people focus on the everyone's-a-winner mantra. This is the marketing fiction, where it's nothing but success, awesomeness and glossy photos. Running is both more complicated and more fickle, an endless repetition of a couple steps forward and one back. It's undeniably about achieving goals, but inevitably involves coming up short sometimes. That's what Noakes is getting at: we have our own limitations that running makes abundantly clear. Ultimately there's no hiding. This has happened to me too many times to count, probably most notably my comic collapse 200 yards from the finish of the Delaware Marathon. There's nothing glamorous about getting dragged across the finish line after falling three times, then getting IVs stuck in your arm. And of course, it was my fault. I didn't train enough or respect the heat. I laid in a terrible hospital corridor on a gurney after an ambulance ride that ended up costing me $500 just beside myself. I hate screwing up. The hardest part is not only admitting it but then trying to learn from it and do better. As athletes, we rely on our bodies so much yet sometimes take them for granted. This isn't fair. It's self-absorbed and even arrogant. And the end result is a carelessness that ends up in disappointment. I'm not running the marathon on Sunday. That's OK. There are other races. I will run under three hours soon, I know it. What I need to focus on now is making amends for some mistakes, realizing my limitations, why I ignored them and how I can make 100 percent sure they don't happen again. That's not an overnight thing, it takes work. I'm ready to start. Nothing worthwhile comes easy, right?

Self-Help Edition

2008-11-18T15:25:00.003-05:00

This is ostensibly a running blog, not some kind of group therapy. But times are tough. I appreciate the messages of advice and encouragement. I want to do the right thing. Barring any disaster during a run tomorrow, I'm doing the marathon. My guess is I'll be fine, although probably unable to run the way I'd like. I don't feel I'll risk long-term damage. I'm hopeful it will work out. We all hate disappointment, especially when it happens suddenly after a period when training was going great. Life can be that way. Something can go from awesome to oh-shit very quickly. It's probably normal to find it unfair and waste a lot of energy trying to figure out how I screwed up. That's only useful to a degree. I'm a big believer in dealing with things as they are, not as I wish they'd be. The best I can do is accept this as, in many ways, out of my hands, while doing my best to make it turn out as I hope. I'd love to believe I'll wake up tomorrow or the next day with it all better. Part of me thinks that's possible; another part of me knows it doesn't work that way.

The Way Ahead

2008-11-16T23:27:00.003-05:00

I haven't updated the blog much lately, mostly because it's about running and I haven't been running. To be precise, my last run was on the morning of Election Day. That night, I came around to the realization my Achilles is injured. Ever since then, I've missed running. I hate it when I can't run. But I know I need to heal. Everything I read about Achilles injuries is scary. After 12 days of not running, I needed to know what was up. I can't say that I don't have pain after all that time off. I do. So today, along the Bay Trail in San Mateo, I set out on a 5.5 mile run. The first half mile was not good. I felt like my gait was different. Every step hurt. I felt like I was trying to find a way to land my foot that was comfortable. Eventually, I warmed up and completed the run without much drama. It wasn't the best run I've done by far, and I do feel some lost fitness from all the time off, but it wasn't excruciating. My verdict is mixed. I know my Achilles won't be right by Sunday. That's impossible. The question is whether I risk damaging it more by running a marathon or just skip the race. My head says the the latter choice is best, maybe split the difference and find a marathon somewhere in early January. But I don't want to do that. I have a good sense of what's wrong for my body. I think I can run the marathon without doing any long-term damage. Will I break three hours? I honestly don't think so. I'm simply not running confidently. My goal is to accept the race as it is on that day and try to do the best possible under the circumstances.

5.5 miles, 44:37

Seeing The Big Picture

2008-11-08T12:10:00.004-05:00

This is the post I've put off writing. After 10 days of denial, I finally admitted that I'm injured. That hard long run at the end of the 70-mile week? It was a mistake. My Achilles hurt for the next week, but I just cut back my mileage a bit and gobbled Advil. The thinking is similar to Kubler-Ross's stages of grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Finally on Tuesday, I reached acceptance: I'm hurt. I feel discomfort when I walk. I run compensating for it, and slowly at that. This is difficult. I've worked pretty hard the last several months to run a great marathon. Now, two weeks out, I'm faced with the prospect of losing that chance. Still, I'm hopeful. I'm using rest, anti-inflamatories, ice and stretching. I'm using The Stick. I haven't run for three straight days, the longest layoff since I ran the Flying Pig Marathon in the spring. I'll try my best to get the Achilles in as good of shape as possible and see what happens. Oddly enough, while this is trying, I don't feel overwhelmingly disappointed. As much as possible, I try to keep things in perspective. Life, just like running, is full of ups and downs. In the big picture, the marathon is just a day, a race that in effect celebrates and validates a whole lot of effort over many months, even years. Yes, I'd like to run 2:58 or 2:55 on Nov. 23, but if I don't, that's OK. It wouldn't take away what I learned through months of training. I'll try my best and see what happens. If this is meant to be, it will happen.

Finding Inspiration

2008-11-02T19:39:00.004-05:00

Marathons are inspiring. Many people go to them, see the people of all ages and shapes out there doing it, and determine to run one. I can understand that. I remember watching my first marathon as a new runner in 1999, wondering whether I could do that. The process of discovery began soon thereafter. Today, nine years and 13 marathons later, I went up to Harlem to watch the New York City Marathon. It is great spot because the crowds are thinner and mile 22 is where I think the real stuff starts. George Sheehan once wrote about this point of the race as where "the miles beyond will challenge everything he holds dear, his value system, his lifestyle. They will ask nothing less than his view of the universe." This is where I go, after the elites have long since passed, to appreciate how awesome it is to see people doing something individually extraordinary. I clap and look at the faces, twisted in determination (and sometimes resignationan), knowing they have their own stories. And it is inspiring. It makes me ready to set out on my own in three weeks to see what I have, where I can go and what will come of it.

5.75 miles, 43:53

Nike Chooses Image Over Reality

2008-10-28T20:07:00.007-05:00

One of my favorite running quotes comes from "Once a Runner," the John Parker novel about Quenton Cassidy. It's admittedly a bit corny.

Running to him was real, the way he did it the realest thing he knew. It was all joy and woe, hard as diamond; it made him weary beyond comprehension. But it also made him free.

It's true because running is pretty stark. At the end of the day, you can't fake it. Natural ability will only help so much. The more you pour into it, the more you get out. There are no style points. That's refreshing because in our modern world, the reverse is too frequently true. Often image is more important than reality. I was reminded of this when I got a Google link to The Nike Human Race book to commemorate the 10k the company held in August. What's clear from my original post about The Human Race is Nike screwed up and put its marketing goals ahead of runners. Now it's looking to upsell those same runners with a 256-page glossy book, "The Day the World Stopped to Run." (That'll run over $50 when you're done with customized cover and shipping.) Ana and I IMd about this today. She has written about this already when it comes to brands. Her idea is that often brands try to communicate an abstract image while people's perceptions are increasingly formed by their real-world interactions. All too often images have the upper hand. The reality of the Nike Human Race was a poorly planned race -- really more marketing event -- that frustrated many participants. What Nike wants people to see is a glossy image of "inspiring" photos and little stories about runners overcoming adversity. This is all surface, the typical reliance on images. People run for so many real reasons -- to lose weight, to do something extraordinary, to find out more about themselves -- and that should be celebrated. The way to celebrate that is by doing right by runners in reality, through great products and services, not treating them as props for the marketing machine.

The Week's Miles

2008-10-26T20:46:00.003-05:00

Today is four weeks until the marathon. It was one of my toughest weeks of training, a full 70 miles. Because of the half marathon last Sunday, I flipped around some of my training. My schedule called for 11 miles with VO2 max work on Monday. This wasn't going to happen, so I substituted two five-mile recovery runs. I concentrated on the mileage this week, but ended up doing a fast 12-miler, mostly at sub-7 pace. I woke up not feeling great that day, but I had a bit of adrenaline and then met up with a very fast runner to keep my pace. So it was a strange week. I felt very strong running, yet I didn't do tempo or VO2 max. It was topped off with a 20-miler yesterday that was either a bad decision or a sign I'm ready. I ran Central Park in a gusty wind and occasional showers. I appreciate the advice about keeping my training paces down, but at this point I'm running on feel. I know what a fair long run pace feels like. I ended up running a hilly 20 at about 7:15 pace. Afterward, I felt fine, although all the miles made me a zombie last night. My recovery run today sucked for the first few miles, then felt like a breeze. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty confident right now. The injuries are gone, for the most part, and I've never been in better shape in my life. Even when I wake up tired, once I start running my body takes over. This week, I'm back to true speed work. My miles will begin to decrease slightly to 63, a semi-recovery week. There are only two more weeks of tough training before the taper.

5.75 miles, 43:43

Did Nike Blow It Again?

2008-10-23T20:03:00.004-05:00

The other day, Darryl sent me a link to a column about the unfortunate case of Arien O'Connell. She ran the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco over the weekend in a PR of 2:55. It turns out it was the fastest time the day. The problem: Nike had 20 "elite" runners go off 20 minutes before the field. The race's official results had another woman as first with a time of 3:06. My first thought was injustice and another case of Nike totally blowing it. But then I thought about it some more. This was a tough one. Marathons aren't time trials. Yes, it seems clear that Arien was the fastest runner that day, but there is a strategy to racing that can't be dismissed. It's not just USATF rules. It's simple logic: you adjust your pace based on your competitors. Yesterday, Nike awarded Arien fastest chip time for her run. This was the right thing to do. What mystifies me is that the race had so many slow "elite" runners. I'm sorry, but a 3:06 and above is hardly elite. Nike said it wouldn't have an elite start next year, which it clearly doesn't need for a race without any prize money or true elite runners.

12 miles, 1:23:38

The Week's Miles

2008-10-20T20:21:00.004-05:00

I'm now a month from the marathon. It was important for me to figure out where I am with training. That meant trimming back the mileage somewhat to run a solid half marathon. The race went well, well enough that I feel fairly confident. Otherwise, it was an uneventful running week. The training at this point is what it is. I get up, run, work, eat, sleep. When I'm done with one workout, I think about recovering for the next. It's not obsessive -- I won't make running the only thing I do outside work -- but it is second nature.

Miles: 62

Ready

2008-10-19T20:43:00.005-05:00

I woke up with the regular pre-race nerves today. Any number of things can go wrong during a race. Feeling nervous is normal. In fact, if you don't feel nervous, it could be a sign you're not preparing seriously. But I knew this wasn't my goal race, just another step along the way to what I want to achieve in a little more than a month's time.

One of the things about races is they don't go as expected. I always compare the trials, tribulations and pure joy of running to life. In this way, racing is no different. Things happen. Today, lots of things happened. we picked up a hot Mustang from the Hertz dealership, then began the drive south. We got lost. I'm not sure how it happened, but before we knew it, we were in Mount Holly, which is not Seaside Heights. After rejiggering our route, we arrived in Seaside Heights a little after the start time. "Maybe they'll go off late." Just then, a stream of runners went by on the boardwalk ahead. Ugh. After parking the car and scrambling to the registration, I was set to run nearly 15 minutes after the race started and 10 minutes after a 5k went off.

Thing is, it would be easy to say forget it at this point. No stretching, a slapped on number, a brutal wind and a field miles ahead. Running of course isn't like that. Off I went. The odd part was running at a hard pace by the 5k runners and the back of the half-marathon pack. Many were startled and understandably wierded out. Once I began running, I felt normal. The hard part was setting a pace on my own. It's easy to relax when you're streaming by dozens of people. But the first few miles were at a really brisk pace. At mile 6, I did a 6:01. At that point, I had visions of possible Olympic greatness. Then I met the reckoning when we turned for the back half of the race. It turns out the "brisk wind" was between 30mph and 40mph. Seriously, I can't remember running in anything like it. My pace ballooned. I felt fine, but I was having a hard time even running straight because I'd get bounced around. It was particularly severe because the course went along the shore. By the time I got back to boardwalk for the last three miles, sand was stinging my arms and legs. I finished with plenty of it in my sneakers. I held on. I started to run out of energy the last two miles. I didn't take a gel, and the Seaside Half Marathon not only didn't offer Gatorade but gave out water in bottles. For real. My goal going in was 1:25. I ran a 1:24, the most unusual race I've ever run by the splits. They're crazy, everywhere from 6:01 to 7:19. If I'd started with everyone, I'd have gotten 8th place.

In the end, I'm happy with how the race went. I know I'm there, I really do. Any number of things can happen in Philly on Nov. 23, and they might. I accept that. Still, I know the work has paid off and I have the ability to run really well.

Mile 1: 6:06
Mile 2: 6:12
Mile 3: 6:03
Mile 4: 6:11
Mile 5: 6:02
Mile 6: 6:01
Mile 7: 6:15
Mile 8: 6:44
Mile 9: 7:19
Mile 10: 6:34
Mile 11: 6:45
Mile 12: 6:46
Mile 13.1: 7:24

17 miles

Time for Testing

2008-10-18T16:58:00.002-05:00

Today is 36 days until the Philadelphia Marathon. My inevitable question to myself is: Am I ready? I don't know the answer. Qualitatively, I feel like I'm nearly ready. My endurance is off the charts for me. Last week's 22-miler didn't kill me. My tempo runs are coming along. I don't feel terribly injured. Still, I don't know for sure where I am. Only a race will really tell me that. So tomorrow morning I'm picking up a car to drive two hours to Seaside Heights, NJ, where I'll run a half marathon. My goal: 1:25, which would put me exactly where I need to be for a sub-3 marathon. This would be a PR for me of more than two minutes. I've run dozens of races, yet I still get nervous for them. Part of it is a common motivation: fear. For me, the fear is always I'll take the easy way out, ease up when it's tough. It's somewhat irrational. If anything, I probably tend to overdo it -- see my two trips to the hospital. Still, it's always there. A little fear of failure is probably a good thing overall.

5.75 miles, 41:51

Losing Yourself

2008-10-14T21:11:00.004-05:00

The other day I came across a post by Scott at A Trail Runner's Blog about the performance effect of listening to music while running. It turns out a new study by a sports psychologist finds listening to tunes while running can improve endurance levels 15 percent. His take is music acts as "a legal drug. It reduces the perception of effort by blocking fatigue-related messages to the brain." I'm no sports psychologist; I'm not buying what he's selling. Maybe I'm too much of a purist. For me, music while running is missing the point. It's not about blocking messages to the brain, but listening to your body and spending time alone with your thoughts. It's about getting in touch with the primal act of running, even if you're running through a busy city. That's what got me up at 6am today run. Tuesdays are tough days: 14 miles. That's a good 1:45 out there before a day at the office. I'm sure the distraction of music might have helped make it seem easier, but I would have missed so much. For instance, today confirmed that I'm in good shape. I was running light. I felt light -- I'm starting to get people comment, somewhat worriedly, that I look skinny-- and my steps were soft. I would have missed that my strides were landing soft if I had music blaring. I would have missed the temporary quiet of Riverside Park before dawn, then the sounds of Manhattan waking up as I went down the Hudson. More important, I would have missed how awesome it is to lose yourself, totally zone out and let the miles come to you. I wouldn't trade that for the world, much less tricking my mind that I'm not really tired.

14 miles, 1:46:05

The Week's Miles

2008-10-12T14:12:00.002-05:00

For a 70-mile week, it didn't go that bad. In fact, I even managed to go out a three nights. The key run of the week was a great 12-mile tempo run. If the distances Nike posted are to be believed, I ran well below 6:30 for the seven miles. Yesterday's 22-mile run came off surprisingly easily, although I got scared by some acute shin pain. That was mostly gone this morning. The good training left me with a dilemma: how to get in at least one half marathon before Philly? I'm pretty much decided on trying the Seaside Half Marathon in presumably lovely Seaside Heights, NJ. Now my debate is how much to taper for the race. My schedule calls for 68 miles, including an 8-15k tune-up race. Since I'm going a little farther, I'll trim back some of the workouts. In particular, Pfitzinger has an 18-mile long run in addition to the race. Um, no thanks. I'll probably max out at 60 miles for the week.

5 miles, 40:30

Doing Something Extraordinary

2008-10-11T13:36:00.008-05:00

Over at Absolut(ly) Fit, Laura has a great post about running marathons. She's done like eight already this year. Pretty soon, she'll pass my lifetime total, and I've been running them for eight years. Laura writes about how running has allowed her to transcend the ordinary to do something extraordinary. It's very true. Running is like that. We all run at different paces, different distances and for different reasons. Everyone who commits to distance running is, in some ways, doing something personally extraordinary. Let's face it, despite all the recent economic turmoil, our lives are incredibly easy. Modern life has afforded us with an embarrassing amount of luxuries and asks little of us regularly. Most of us sit in cubicles all day, more at risk of heart disease and boredom than anything else. Running is a way of breaking out of our mundane daily lives. My skeptical nature looks askance at the "you're all winners" mantra of marathons. I regard the race itself ambivalently. The big business marathons have become make them more about marketing and monetization. Yet there's something cool about them because each runner is doing something out of the ordinary. Alone but together. Noakes writes about how this is the epitome of competition: "to seek out in the company of others."

I thought about this a bit today during my 22-mile run, the farthest I'll go during training. I've gotten to the point where running 22 miles at a 7:45 pace isn't all that difficult. My only concern is a pain in my left shin. This is pretty new. I felt some tenderness there before during training, but it came on rather suddenly at about mile 16 of the run. I'm icing it right now, praying it's not something serious like my nightmare, a stress fracture. I get paranoid about injuries when I'm training. Otherwise, I feel fine. My new plan is to run a half marathon next weekend in Seaside Heights, NJ. Never been, although I did run the NJ Marathon a few years back, finishing in 3:04. Much of the race is along the boardwalk, which should be interesting. Getting there will be doubly interesting since I don't have a car. Time to use TTG's Budget employee discount code.

22 miles, 2:53:58

Feeling Fast

2008-10-09T20:56:00.003-05:00

Tonight, I went out for a key tempo run: 7 miles at half-marathon pace during a 12-mile run. Originally, the run was supposed to be this morning. But I did 15 miles yesterday morning, and it wiped me out. I haven't gotten enough sleep this week. (Madonna is partially to blame. Don't ask.) Last night, I realized I needed some extra rest. With an off day Friday, I could switch over to evening running. Today, I felt a cold coming on and was just low energy all day, despite sleeping over nine hours. Going out for the run, I wasn't too confident. Then a funny thing happened: after a four mile warmup, I started the tempo run, and it felt pretty good. Even though I run a fair amount and typically finish in the top 1 percent, I don't consider myself fast. I'm into distances; speed is relative. Tonight I felt fast, passing people on bikes and startling more than a couple rollerbladers. The first mile or so was north from Battery Park to the Nike Runner Station. I judged my splits based off the Nike Runner Station guidelines. I don't think these are totally accurate -- or I didn't see Christopher Street in the dark. Regardless, I had one super fast mile (5:43), followed by a slow mile (6:45). The next two were easy to judge because they were by city blocks. Both came in around 6:10. The net result: I ran the seven miles under 6:30, closer to 6:15. Did it hurt? Yeah. At the end, I felt queasy, dehydrated (temp was at 70) and my heart rate was pretty elevated. Still, it's another sign of progress. I'm pretty good with where I am right now. I'll do 70 miles this week. More important, I feel like I'm hitting my tempo runs. I put off a half marathon this weekend for a bunch of reasons. I wasn't ready for another race just two weeks after the 18-miler. I'm going to look around for a half marathon in the next couple weekends. That's when I'll know for sure how ready I am. Seven weeks out, I'm doing what I wanted to do with training. I really believe the race will take care of itself if I do the right things to prepare.

12 miles, 1:22

The Dread & The Week's Miles

2008-10-05T16:14:00.005-05:00

I haven't blogged much this week. Maybe it's because it was my last recovery week before five weeks of tough training ahead. This week, I skipped most speedwork, just doing four 500 meter strides at 5k pace today. My goal instead was to heal before what I think is the key portion of my training. That meant taking an extra day off and running substantially less (50 miles) than previous weeks. I have five weeks before the taper to stay focused and put myself in a postion to do well. I'd be lying, though, if I said the prospect of a 70-mile weeks didn't fill me with a bit of dread. There's nothing easy about it. They'll be tiring, physically and mentally. This is inevitable. Training for a marathon is a long process, with lots of ups and downs. Tomorrow is a "recovery" day with two 5-mile runs. I'm looking forward to the second because it's a hash. Then the week gets hard: 15, 6, 12 with 7 at half marathon pace, 5, 22. Ouch. These weeks are the real test.

8 miles, 57:53

The Month in Running

2008-09-30T21:47:00.003-05:00

September was a touch month. The training got much more serious, the mileage piled up. I ended up running 26 out of 30 days in the month, covering 261 miles. I'm entering the last month of hard training before tapering for the race begins in early November. So where am I? Well, I think I'm in alright shape. Physically, I'm hanging in there, dealing with an assortment of injuries, including the Achilles problem, a touch of plantar fasciitis and, oddest of all, a slightly strained abdominal muscle. It sounds worse than it is.

Still, maybe I shouldn't be complacent. I ended Sunday pleased with how I did. I finished the race in 2:03, running the last 12 miles at an average pace of 6:47. (That's 2:58 marathon pace.) Alas, Barney of 2:35 fame piped up on Facebook that my overall race time actually nets out to a 3:04 marathon. Technically, yes, but I really didn't run all out on Sunday, particularly in the first five miles. It was also humid and a hilly course, not to make tons of excuses. I came away happy with how I felt at the end, finishing with a 6:41 18th mile and hardly gutted, and placed: 72nd overall (out of 3,900) and 14th in my division. The guys I finished with were guys running under three hours -- many of them are farther into their training. This is all to say that I believe I'm on track. Yes, I need to improve my speed, probably eat, sleep and recover better, but I'm getting there. I'd rather it not be close. Race day, I want to be between 6:40 and 6:45. A taper, flatter course, cooler weather, and I'd have run those easily on Sunday for all 18. Maybe I'm overly optimistic.

10 miles, 1:13:37

The Week's Miles

2008-09-29T08:34:00.003-05:00

At some point last week, I hit a bit of a wall. It was building up for some time, just the accumulation of the extra miles and inadequate recovery. My Achilles was hurting, I was just sorta exhausted. I adjusted a couple runs down a few miles and muddled through. The focus of the week was getting to Sunday in good shape for the 18-mile race. That meant stretching out my week by running eight days in a row. I don't like to do this, but I played around with switching from morning to evening runs to squeeze in extra rest at the end of the week. I'm hopeful I've turned the corner on my Achilles soreness. On Saturday, I wielded The Stick on it. Seemed to break up a lot of stuff and get better blood flow. This morning, after a pretty tough 18, it feels alright. I've made it to a recovery week. I'm taking it for real, adding in an extra full day of rest, and probably not topping out at 50 miles.

Miles: 64.25

Confidence

2008-09-28T10:47:00.004-05:00

I'm a big believer that running is a great mirror of other things in life. Confidence is critical. To run well, you need to be confident that you can do it. The marathon is a long way. There's no worse feeling than getting eight or nine miles into the race, then realizing that you were kidding yourself. I've been there. I ran Boston in 2003, thinking I could run under three hours. I'd done 3:02 the previous fall, but I wasn't nearly in shape. By mile 10, I was cooked. The last half of the marathon was the worst running experience of my life. I ran a half hour slower than the first 13 miles, getting passed again and again. Even subsequent to that, I've had too many failures to count. The only way to confidence is preparation. If you're prepared, you can handle whatever happens. There are always tough times during a long race, and knowing you've trained hard is the best way to overcome them.

This morning, I took an important step to gaining the confidence I need in Philly. I'm halfway through my training. It's gone well, but there have been times where I wonder why I'm running 15 miles on a Tuesday morning at a slow pace. I have a better idea why now. I ran the 18-mile NYC Marathon Tune-Up in Central Park. Going in, my idea was to run the first loop of the park (6 miles) at a relaxed pace, then do 12 miles at marathon pace (6:50). With no taper and on a hilly course, that's pretty tough. What's more, it was 90 percent humidity this morning. Starting out, I felt terrible. This always happens to me when I'm deep into marathon training. The first five miles are a chore. I felt severely out of sorts. It was made worse by the admirable new NYRR corral system. I was placed in the first corral, along with some frankly faster dudes. I realized that when the guy next to me talked about "maybe running at 6:00." Gulp. The first few miles were faster than I planned. By mile four, I was a little depressed, wondering what was wrong with me as people went by me.

But then, I started to feel normal. By mile five, I was running much more relaxed. I can tell how I'm running by whether I'm loud or quiet. The early part of the race, I was too loud -- my feet were smacking the ground. But then I began to run quiet. I started to get confidence by passing people going up the Great Hill the second time. The rest of the race was pretty uneventful. I mostly hit my pace goals, with one or two miles a bit slower, one or two a bit faster. Overall, the 12 miles were exactly where I should be to run under 3. I got a stitch at mile 13, which really hurt and frustrated me, but I thought about those 15-mile midweek runs. Soon I was back on pace. That's what training does: I knew I'd get stronger. I did struggle a bit during the last loop, but I got through it and overall had a quite solid run. Would I prefer those 6:50 miles be 6:45? Of course. Still, I'm eight weeks out from the marathon. A good way to tell how strong you are is the final mile. Barney told me he did something like a 5:20 final mile at the London Marathon. I'm not in that league, but I outkicked a guy named Jorge for a 6:41 mile 18. Not bad. Final result: 2:03:18, 6:50 pace. 71st place out of 3,928.

Here are the splits.

1: 7:05
2: 7:02
3. 6:56
4: 6:54
5: 6:56
6: 6:46
7: 6:49
8: 6:48
9: 6:42
10: 6:45
11: 6:42
12: 6:42
13: 6:50
14: 6:56
15: 6:50
16: 6:51
17: 6:52
18: 6:41

Dealing With Injuries

2008-09-27T13:52:00.003-05:00

There's an inevitable reality about running lots: injuries will happen. There are plenty of steps you can take to minimize the risk, but from time to time the pounding will take its toll. What then? Gina Kolata, a New York Times science writer and workout junkie, has a cool story today about her own fight with injuries as she prepares for the New York City Marathon. Gina's foot injury, it turns out, is a stress fracture. She's tried, it seems, nearly everything to deal with it: pool running, the elliptical, even an ultrasound machine. Her article comes with the incredible lengths Paula Radcliffe went through to deal with her own stress fracture.

I'm glad the Times wrote about this. Coping with injuries is a frustrating reality of running. The worst part is figuring out a course of action. Pain is inevitable in running. It's simply part of the deal. But when do you stop ignoring the pain? My current injury situation is a little plantar fasciitis and, more worriesome, an achey Achilles. For the latter, I'm relying on a lot of stretching, ibuprofren after most runs and some icing. It seems to help, but I'd by lying if it doesn't hurt most of the time, although the pain is manageable. I've been told sports massage could help, even taking some time off from running since I have enough time before Philly on Nov. 23. Right now, I'm in a wait-and-see mode. Tomorrow, I'm doing an 18-mile race with the idea of running the first six-mile loop at an easy 7:30, then doing the last 12 at marathon pace, 6:50. Next week is a recovery week. I'm going to take it as a true recovery week. The schedule still calls for 59 miles. I'll probably do less, maybe even through in a second rest day altogether.

Running in the Dark

2008-09-25T10:47:00.003-05:00

Earlier this week, I ran into a work contact from the West Coast who I've known for years. Rich is also a runner, so he asked about my training. That day, I'd gotten up at 5:30am to run 15 miles before work. I told him about the extra miles and feeling a little worn out. "I know exactly what you're talking about," he said. "And nobody really understands it."

I thought about that quite a bit. Distance running is such a solitary thing. Getting up early on a Tuesday and knocking out lots of miles well before the sun comes up is an odd, nearly irrational activity. Often I've found when people talk about the "marathon experience," they mean the day of the race. In many ways, the race is nearly besides the point. Those 15 miles, seeing NY wake up along the way, are what the real experience is, not a few hours of running along the streets of a big city with tens of thousands of strangers yelling at you. (I sometimes find this almost unsettling, to be honest.) No crowds, no medals, just some chocolate milk at the end and the self-satisfying feeling on the subway that you've already accomplished more than everyone else around you.

11 miles, 1:27:15

Glamour + Pigdog

2008-09-22T10:55:00.005-05:00

I can't say I ever thought a women's magazine would link here, but the Web's a strange place. Glamour had a blog post on Friday with five tips for new runners. One of them is my advice to stick to a routine. What's more, Glamour credits the advice to a "running guru." Wow. Thanks, Sarah.

7.5 miles, 57:13

Beat Up: The Week's Miles

2008-09-21T10:51:00.006-05:00

At some point in training, I wear down. The hard part is figuring out what are normal aches and weariness from signs to back off. This week kinda tested me. The first part was a 14-mile run on Monday done without fully recovering from my long run. By the middle of the week, I felt crappy, but turned the corner with a great tempo run. I hit 6:30 for six miles. Then came the pain. My Achilles is sore. It's nothing terrible, but it certainly aches. I ice it as much as I can, gobble Advil and work on stretching. Yesterday, I had a great long run. The Achilles was tender at the start, then pretty much was fine, although it bothered me a bit at the end. This morning's recovery run was the same thing. I woke up pretty gimpy, started off sore, then felt alright. This is tricky. There's a reason Achilles is synonymous with "weak point." It can easily lead to tendonitis and a chronic injury. Overall, I had a great week training, but this soreness concerns me. My schedule calls for another tough week before a recovery week. I'm also aiming for an 18-mile race on Sunday that I'll run as a progression run that includes 12 miles at marathon pace. This week, I might take an extra rest day. I usually allow myself one wildcard rest day during the month. Might be a good time to use it.

Miles: 63

Knowing When to Sleep In

2008-09-17T21:22:00.003-05:00

There's always the balance in running between structure and flexibility. To train hard, you need to follow a schedule and sometimes be a wet blanket about it. Even more important, you need to know when to push through and when to hold back. Last week's trip to Washington, along with the festivities there, took their toll on me. I ran 69 miles in the week, then never got enough sleep. This was exacerbated by going on to watch football with college friends on Sunday. Even Monday was a late night because of the Eagles game. It all added up to exhaustion and the stuffiness of a cold by Tuesday. What's more, my Achilles started to ache. Last night, I got to bed before 10pm. When my alarm went off at 6:30, I was still tired and stuffy. So I skipped and went back to sleep. I got another hour and felt a lot better at work today. It wasn't too much of a loss because I brought my stuff to work and ran home, doing 11 miles and finally hitting my tempo time of 6:30 over six miles. It was good to run fast. The rest did me good. The Achilles is a little achy, but it'll be fine. I also experienced one of the more unfortunate "signs you're a serious runner."

11 miles, 1:19:03

Apple vs Runners

2008-09-16T10:03:00.004-05:00

Nike+ is an interesting product for a lot of reasons. But it's frustrating. The system is closed: you need Nike shoes and an iPod. You're steered to the Flash-heavy Nike+ community site. The Sportband was a way to get around needing the iPod, although it broke when I ran with it in the rain and wasn't all that accurate to begin with. The shoe requirement was always a myth. There are pouches and other things you can use on your Asics, Brooks or whatever sneaker you want. (When I went to the Nike store in Manhattan, the salesman insisted it was impossible to use without Nike shoes. Nike should either train employees better or encourage them not to lie.) Now comes word from a Twitter friend, via GeekSugar, that Apple has filed a patent to make it illegal to put the Nike+ sensor in other shoes. Why does Apple care about this? Its filing presents the gravity of the situation.

Some people have taken it upon themselves to remove the sensor from the special pocket of the Nike+.TM. shoe and place it at inappropriate locations (shoelaces, for example) or place it on non-Nike+.TM. model shoes.

Heavens. This is very ironic to me because Apple (and obviously Nike) has a huge consumer base of runners with those earbuds dangling. What does it say about the company that it's willing to give them the middle finger because they want to use Nike+ differently? And yes, this again makes Nike look bad that it's partner is cracking down on people who won't completely give themselves over to Nike merchandise.

A side note: I'm officially worn out. I haven't been getting enough sleep, and it's caught up with me. I woke up groggy with a sore throat and Achilles tenderness, then had a forgettable recovery run. The schedule calls for another this evening. Don't think that will happen.

5 miles, 39:23

Nike's Revenge

2008-09-15T07:28:00.005-05:00

Ok, so I've had some constructive criticism of Nike. One thing I've always praised is the Runner Station, a little hut on the West Side Highway that has gels, water, Gatorade and group runs. It's a great idea, and it saves me in the winter, when the water fountains are mostly turned off. This morning, I stopped into the Runner Station for Gatorade because watching football and drinking beer is not an ideal way to prepare for a 14-miler. The guy took a while giving me change for a $20. I gulped down the Gatorade, then shoved the money back in my shorts when he finally gave me back a wad of ones. Only later did I realize he'd given me this gross, probably unusable bill. I went into my bodega after the run to get chocolate milk, the guy refused the Nike money. "That gross," he told me. "Who gave you?"

14 miles, 1:47:02

The Week's Miles

2008-09-14T11:04:00.003-05:00

Coming off the recovery week, I began the lactose threshold and endurance phase of the Pfitzinger plan. After six weeks of endurance training, I feel like I have a good base. As I wrote after my long run Friday, those 12-and 14-mile runs are paying off. Speed-wise, I'm not quite there, but the next several weeks are what hopefully will get me there. It was my most miles so far of training, made a little more complicated because I traveled to Washington to see friends. That made me mix up training a bit and move up my long run. The real test is an 18-mile race in two weeks. I'd like to race it to see for sure how I'm doing.

Miles: 69

Breakthrough

2008-09-12T11:02:00.002-05:00

The long run is something that unites all marathoners, no matter what speed. In order to train for a marathon, you need to go long. It's a little ludicrous to non-runner, the idea of going out for 20 miles. Plenty of friends have asked me why I don't just run another six and be done with it. When I first started running, I would dread the long run. Then it became something I'd look forward to, mostly because it gave me an excuse to eat a ton afterward. (Ideal post-long run meal: bacon cheeseburger. Sometimes two.) From a training perspective, I realize now that I put too much stock in the long run. Instead of getting in the miles, I'd focus my training around it. Now, I'm following Pfitzinger and doing more tempo runs and the medium-long runs during the week. The one part of training that's confused me a bit is the midweek 14-and 12-mile runs. I wasn't sure what they were doing, other than making me sleepy at my desk. Now I know. I went for a 21-miler this morning. Odd as this is to say, it wasn't really hard. It was probably the 100th time I've run 20 or more. It's a long way, and I there are bound to be tough parts. But today's sailed by with the pace at about 7:45 or 7:40. I didn't run the last mile slower than the first, and I felt like I could easily keep running. Those midweek medium-long runs have given me a nice endurance base. My one concern is a little hamstring soreness in my right leg. I had a persistent hamstring injury two years that lasted forever, just a dull ache that stayed around for many months. My recovery plan is a bit unusual: I'm taking a four-hour bus ride to Washington, DC, to see friends. I hope there's no knife-wielding maniac onboard.

21 miles, 2:43:18

Lance's Return

2008-09-10T21:38:00.004-05:00

The news came out officially yesterday in Vanity Fair: Lance Armstrong is coming back. I usually stick to running, but I'll make the exception for this. Jay (aka JPS) wrote an interesting post about the mixed feelings (to be kind) he has about this. Jay's a real cyclist -- I got tired driving up the hills he rides in California -- so his perspective was pretty interesting. His argument comes down to cycling moving on the Lance era, which brought tons of casual fans to the sport but also marked the height of the doping era. Like Jay, I have my doubts Lance was clean while everyone else was dirty. It's pretty understandable, and it doesn't take away from what Lance accomplished.

The question remains why. He seemed to be having a pretty good time raising money for his foundation, getting people to seriously think of him as a politician and struggling through marathons in respectable but not outstanding times. (A 2:50 is a nice time, but the guy's got such incredible lung capacity that I'd expect faster. At least he said ) I have a theory that all the commentators are wrong when they say athletes want to go out on top. I don't believe that. I think athletes don't want to leave while they still have something left. Lance still has something to prove. He loves doubters, and now he actually has them instead of making them up. I'm not a cycling purist, so I'll find it interesting, particularly as a 35-year old watching Lance trying to race at the highest level at 37. Lance thinks it's nothing:

Ask serious sports physiologists and they’ll tell you age is a wives’ tale. Athletes at 30, 35 mentally get tired. They’ve done their sport for 20, 25 years and they’re like, I’ve had enough. But there’s no evidence to support that when you’re 38 you’re any slower than when you were 32.

11 miles, 1:26:32

Signs You're a Serious Runner

2008-09-09T21:03:00.005-05:00

To even things out, there needed to be a list for serious runners. At first, I was going to do one for runner snobs, the people who frankly take things too seriously. But I'll start with just what qualifies someone as a "serious runner." I cannot check off each point. I'd hazard to say if you identify with five you can consider yourself a "serious runner." There is no membership card, sadly.

You have a watch that gives splits
Your nipples have bled
You've qualified for Boston or if you haven't yet would never get a number another way
You have relieved yourself outside before a race (BrianG wants to require No. 2 for the boys; I find this a high bar.)
You've taken an ice bath
You've been hospitalized because of dehydration (I want desperately to think this is some kind of badge of honor. Something. Please.)
You canceled your Runners World subscription because it's all about getting great abs
You've said "only 14 miles" when describing a run
You've lost a toenail
You think running with an iPod is missing the whole point

14 miles, 1:51:05

Signs You're a Casual Runner

2008-09-08T20:27:00.005-05:00

While out running tonight, I started thinking some about the serious vs casual runners post from last week. I honestly think it's great that anyone runs, whether it's once or twice a week, whether it's 6-minute miles or 10. Don't get me wrong, I respect everyone who does it. But it is true the larger the running community gets, the more pronounced the divide gets between serious and casual. I decided to come up with a (tongue-in-cheek) list of signs you might be a casual runner -- with the Seinfeld caveat that "there's nothing wrong with that." I'd say anyone ticking off three qualifies as an official casual runner. (I'm going to do a companion post later this week of signs you're a runner snob.)

You've taken or made cell phone calls while running.
Your iPod is as necessary as your sneakers.
You prefer treadmills.
You don't run when it rains.
You won't drink out of public waterfountains.
You say "never again" after a marathon -- and mean it.
You admire Jeff Galloway and/or John "The Penguin" Bingham.
Your favorite spot to run in NYC is the Reservoir.
You wear cotton shirts and/or the race t-shirt during the race
You enjoyed The Nike Human Race. (Kidding, sorta)

10 miles, 1:13 (5 miles at 6:40)

The Week's Miles

2008-09-07T10:17:00.003-05:00

Recovery week. When I saw it on the schedule, I had visions of lounging around a hammock and eating cheeseburgers. Not so much. It basically just involved a shorter long run. Overall, the runs went well. I had a good speed workout, 10 x 100-meter strides after an 8-mile aerobic run, and the other runs went fine. Yesterday's 14-mile medium-long run was an ordeal because of about 90 percent humidity. Runs like that make me feel out of shape, even though I know it's just the lack of oxygen. The end result was a recovery run this morning that I did too fast. Maybe it was because Central Park was so packed with the nice weather.

Miles: 55

What's a Serious Runner?

2008-09-04T20:43:00.003-05:00

A whole lot of things came up in the comments in the last post. For now, I'm going to leave it there and get back to running. One interesting point made was the difference between "serious" and "casual" runners. I struggle with this. It's not attractive to be a running snob. Yet I do think there's a divide. Running has changed quite a bit over the years. The marathon has gone from something only "crazy" people do to another box to check off on a life experience. There's been plenty written about how slow marathons have gotten, why Oprah is to blame, the charity rackets, expensive big city marathons, etc. I'm not going to rehash those.

So what makes a serious runner? To me, it certainly isn't speed. There are many people who are athletically gifted. Is it miles? I think that's part of it. More to the point is commitment -- breaking through from a couple times a week to a training regimen with goals in mind. I don't care if the goal is a 3-hour marathon or completing a 10k. What I find so great about running is anyone can do it. Thin, fat, fast, slow, young, old. I have just as much respect for people who train diligently to run the marathon in five hours as the guys doing 2:30. The other month, I passed an older woman a few times during a run in a driving rain in Central Park. She couldn't have been going any faster than 11-minute pace. I see her all the time, grinding out miles with her face twisted in a look of fierce determination. That night was no different. I was doing like 12 or something, totally beat. There was an unspoken bond because we were dealing with the same stuff.

The idea for this blog sprung from the idea that runners fight the same struggle. The serious runner embraces the struggle; accepts pain as part of the deal; and knows the real achievement is the training, not the race itself. My favorite running novel is "Once a Runner," a sometimes schmaltzy story of Quentin Cassidy, a mythical miler. The author summed up his ethos this way: "It was all joy and woe, hard as diamond; it made him weary beyond comprehension." There's truth to that.

11 miles, 1:24:30

The Nike Human Race Fiasco

2008-09-03T10:23:00.008-05:00

Yesterday, I wrote about the Nike Human Race, the 10k Nike organized worldwide. At the time, I wondered why New York City was so slow, ranking a dismal 16th of 26 cities. I ended up getting messages on Twitter and in the comments that the race was a total fiasco. A blog search turned up much of the same. The main complaint: Nike chose an awkward course on Randall's Island that caused many runners to walk, not run. All the pictures on Inside Nike Running show smiling participants, all eerily dressed in the same t-shirt like they were in the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony. It doesn't show the frustration some runners felt at the late start and poor organization. The problem seems to start with the size of the race and location. Nike's a big company that wants to do big things, so it registered 10,000 people for the race. In Central Park, 4,000 is a recipe for disaster. But Nike held the race on Randall's Island, incredibly on a loop course that had runners crossing a narrow foot bridge. In NY, there was apparently even booing as runners came to an abrupt halt. (London might not have been much better, at least going by one commenter on Brandflakes for Breakfast.) These things happen. All runners have been in poorly organized races, and it's no surprise that this one would be disappointing. After all, Nike's main goal is in marketing, not organizing a race.

This fits with a pattern I've noticed with Nike's attempts to regain its prominence in running: it focuses so much on the mass of casual runners that it ignores "serious" runners. I try to avoid the runner divide of slower runners versus faster ones. By serious I mean runners who have goals and train to meet them, not those that commendably jog for health and well-being. Running is great in that everyone faces the same obstacles, which are mainly a battle with self. Nike hasn't impressed me as a runner. The Nike+ system was originally only for use with iPods. Now most competitive runners don't listen to music when running. (It's also dangerous, but that's another story.) Then, I tried out Nike+ Sportband. The calibration was off, then it simply stopped working when I wore it during a workout in the rain. Who doesn't run sometimes when it's wet out?

When I line up at marathons and look down, I see mostly Asics. I'm trying to run under three hours, so maybe that's not representative of all runners, but it shows to me that Nike, for all its inspirational commercials, doesn't really connect with competitive runners. And by putting on a 10k I've heard described as "chaos" and "a disaster," it reinforces this disconnect. Nike's blog unintentionally sums it up: "On 8.31.2008, 10,000 people stood together on Randall’s Island while thousands stood around the world for the same purpose. Where were you standing?"

5 miles, 40:23

Why Is NYC So Slow?

2008-09-02T13:24:00.004-05:00

New Yorkers like to pride themselves on how fast we are talking and walking. I would think that would encompass running. Overall, I think of New York as a great running city. Central Park is full of fast runners, and the races here always draw quick people. So I was a little disappointed when I visited Nikeplus.com to do a little research for a work piece. This past weekend, Nike held "The Human Race," a series of 10k races in major cities around the world. Showing the cool things that can be done with data, Nike posted the average times from each city. New Yorkers were pathetically slow at an average of 1:02:04, an Oprah-like 9:59 pace. That placed the Big Apple in 15th place out of 26 cities. Compare that with Portland's 58:33, Vancouver's 58:22 and Madrid's blazing fast 56:34. The last one really surprised me. Madrid had the lowest average time of any city. Many Euro cities beat us, even Warsaw. I lived in Poland: everyone smokes. What gives? The good news is NYC beat the pants off LA (1:05:20) and Austin (1:11:51). Check out the results for lots of cities worldwide.

12 miles, 1:33:25

UPDATE: Emily and Michelle put the blame on Nike. It turns out the course on Randall's Island, where I've never run, included a narrow bridge that slowed most to a several-minute walk. "Runners started booing," Michelle reports. Tsk-tsk, Nike. NYC wants a rematch.

The Week's (and Month's) Miles

2008-09-01T11:03:00.002-05:00

I'm now into the sixth week of Pfitzinger's 18-week program. There are 12 weeks until Philly. At this point, I feel pretty good. There were some initial worries about injuries, and I still experience knee soreness on top of the usual aches, but I've held up pretty good. This week, I hit 64 miles, the most I've probably ever run in training. The best part is it wasn't that hard. My 20-mile run Saturday went well. I mixed things up by heading north along the Hudson, up through Harlem to Washington Heights. I turned back at the George Washington Bridge, then continued south to Tribeca before coming back up to the Upper West Side. I tested my pace during the run a few times: about 7:45-7:50. This is my ideal for long runs. I know some will say slower is better, but I disagree.

Looking back at the month, I ran 265 miles and 26 of 31 days. The only real deviation I made from Pfitzinger was throwing in an extra rest day a couple weeks ago. I was traveling and really just needed it. I'm going to keep that option open during the next phase of training. Once a month replacing a 5-mile recovery run with total rest seems like a good idea. That should be particularly true for the next phase of training. I'm in a recovery week right now before beginning the hard part of the program: lactate threshold + endurance. This first endurance mesocycle has been good, but I wish there were more 8-10 mile aerobic runs. Maybe that's what I'm used to, but the second 11-mile slow run in the middle of the week is a drag. I felt great after doing 8 miles today at 7:20 pace, then 10 100-meter strides to cap it off. This next phase has some tough runs. Hopefully, work won't intrude too much as the summer ends.

8 miles, 58:50

It's Good to be Humbled

2008-08-26T18:53:00.003-05:00

The best part about running is that it's a lot like life: sometimes things don't go as planned and frankly don't work out. It's unfortunate, but it's also what makes things interesting. We don't get the job we think is ideal, a relationship that seemed perfect suddenly isn't, careers sometimes get off track. It's trite, but we learn about ourselves during those moments.

That's the really difficult thing to face up to. For whatever reason, we don't like to talk much of failure, even though that's where we learn the most. I see it in my job. Companies always want to talk to me about the great successes they've had, yet not so much about the stuff that didn't work.

I've been running now for nine years. In that time, I've accomplished a fair amount, but come up short too. I went to the Boston Marathon in 2003 thinking I'd run under three hours. By the end of the race, after running the second half 30 minutes slower than the first, my goals had gone down to "don't be put in the wheelchair." At the finish, they tried. I've been dragged off the course twice because of dehydration, including comically crumpling 200 yards from the finish in Delaware. The Indy Marathon was a fiasco. I missed running under three hours by 74 seconds because I mentally choked and eased up. I bring these up because I try to accept failure as part of the deal. I'm OK with it so long as I learn from it and do the best I can. I try to apply this as much as I can to the other parts of my life.

This all sprang to mind watching an interview Ryan Hall gave at the Great Wall after finishing a disappointing 10th in the Olympic Marathon. Yes, being the 10th fastest runner in the world isn't exactly a sob story, but he went to Beijing -- and trained his ass off -- to win a medal. What's more, he didn't have a great run. It happens. I was impressed at how honest and level-headed he was about it. At about three minutes in the video, he's asked what he took away from the race. He laughs, then says, "It was good to be humbled."

14 miles, 1:51:08

Turning the Page

2008-08-25T18:20:00.004-05:00

As a replacement for taking summer Fridays, our corporate overlords grant us two Mondays off. Today, I took my second free day. That left me with some more options to run. I got up a little later to do my key workout of the week: a nine-mile run with four miles at half-marathon pace. I should do the tempo miles at 6:30 or ideally a bit below. Two weeks ago, I had a great workout in the park and hit 6:31. That's about where I want to be, because I figure I'll gain speed as I go with this training. (I better for all the extra work.) From the start today, though, I didn't feel great. Nothing was particularly sore, but my legs were still a bit achy. Maybe I did the long run too hard. It was also very humid out, which always bothers me. I ran a little loop around the bridle path to the East Side, about 2.5 miles. That's when the fun began. I started from the Engineer's Gate on E. 90th Street, along the Central Park road, heading north. My hope was after I warmed up, I'd feel better. It never happened. By time I got up Cat Hill and hit the flat stretch back to the Engineer's Gate, I knew it was great. I don't check my watch in the midst of the tempo runs, although it might be a good idea if I can plot out exact distances in the park. By my watch, the four miles took 26:47. 6:41 pace.

Bad workouts happen. Bad races happen. Stuff can go on at work, personally or just a bad night's sleep. There's no use obsessing about it because there are always more opportunities. The key is to not try to make it up in the next workout. Better to just move on. Even if the tempo pace wasn't great, today was a hard day. I have to do 14 tomorrow morning, nearly the entire length of Manhattan from my apartment.

9 miles, 1:03:46

The Week's Miles

2008-08-24T21:24:00.003-05:00

Traveling is always a pain, particularly for running. I got really lucky with my trip to the Bay Area, mostly by it being a great a place to run. Running is a cool way to see new places, since it brings you where you'd never normally go. In San Mateo, I ran along the Bay Trail up to Foster City and a little beyond in a long run. In San Francisco, I ran in my bathing suit (no Speedo) through a rainy Golden Gate Park. In San Jose, I passed by tattoo parlors, brown-water canals and a squatter camp. I drove down to Campbell to run a tough 14-mile medium-long run on the Los Gatos Trail, passing lots of lakes, parks and mountain bike trails. This also marked my longest week yet of training -- and about the most miles I've done in a week. I always topped out at 60 miles in my previous training regimens. I ended the week feeling pretty healthy. My right hamstring started to ache at the end of my 18-miler, but it felt alright today. If there was one weak part it was Monday's lacatate workout, which included 10 100-meter strides. Not knowing the distances made it hard. All in all, I feel ready for a 65-mile week, then a step-back week to end the endurance mesocycle. That's when the training looks like it gets serious. Gulp.

Miles: 62.5

Anatomy of a Long Run

2008-08-23T16:37:00.004-05:00

I wrapped up my hardest week yet in training, week four of a six-week endurance mesocycle. My understanding of the purpose is to lay a foundation of stamina on which to build later in training with an emphasis on lactate threshold. But it's led to many runs I've found almost lazy. I'm staying in the zone of what I'm suppose to shoot for, but I feel like my skittishness with injuries led me to err on the side of slower. That's OK for long runs and recovery, but it makes me worry I'm training my body to run slowly. This week featured a couple medium-long runs (14 and 11 miles), which I did a little over 7:45. Yesterday's 18-miler should have been at a similar pace. I wanted to go just a little faster and get a good idea of pace. I ran 17 of the 18 miles in Central Park, a course basically of rolling hills. Here's the breakdown of the Central Park miles:

Loop 1 (5 miles): 38:18. Pace: 7:39. The first 5-6 miles of a run are hard when I'm into distance training. It takes time to warm up and feel OK. This included a stop at the water fountain of about 30 seconds.

Loop 2 (4 miles): 30:39. Pace: 7:39. This is where I start to feel good and get into a rhythm. I decided to take a gel and get water at about 9 miles. Took ~ 45 seconds.

Loop 3 (4 miles): 31:01. Pace: 7:45. I was pretty much locked into a pace here. This loop was faster because it took me 1 minute to buy and drink Gatorade.

Loop 4 (4 miles): 31:17. Pace: 7:49. The last loop was mostly OK, although I started to fatigue some. I stopped to drink and dispose of the rest of my Gatorade, then took another gel at 16 miles. This proved a time suck because of a line at the water fountain. Still, I wanted to take a gel late in the run to jumpstart the recovery process.

Overall: 18 miles, 2:19:31. Pace: 7:45. My guess is, when you factor in the stops for water, etc, I ran at about 7:30-7:35 pace, not bad for a hilly course on a warm morning. More important, it felt comfortable. Taking a gel late in the run -- along with a chocolate milk immediately after stopping -- did appear to speed recovery.

5 miles, 40:10

The Ectomorphs

2008-08-23T12:33:00.005-05:00

Running is strange. There are so many different flavors of it, but the big divide is between sprinters and distance runners. They're almost like two different species. The Olympics are putting that on display. On the one hand is Usain Bolt, an absolutely transcendent talent in the 100m and 200m. I can't believe how fast the guy is. Like many, I cringed a bit when he started showboating at the end of the 100m. But I give these kind of athletes a break: he's 22, after all and from a small town in Jamaica. From what I can tell, the guy has a great personality and a real joy for what he does. At the same time, like Brad, I can't really relate. Bolt's a classic sprinter: all macho posturing and style points. There are staredowns and preening. You don't see that much in distance runners.

A lot of this probably goes back to the different needs for the sports. Running fast over a short distance is about short-muscle twitches. It's about power. Distance running is slow twitch muscles. It's about endurance. Noakes points to the Sheldon's classifications of people based on their body types as endomorphs (big and soft), mesomorphs (muscley) and ectomorphs (skinny). Sprinters are classic mesomorphs -- big, self-confident extroverts. Distance runners are ectomorphs: skinny, inward-looking. Sheldon thinks ectomorph's are looking to solve life's riddles. This makes sense to me. The reason I love distance running is it makes you comfortable being alone with your thoughts. Today, over two hours and some, I covered 18 miles in Central Park. It was hard work, but included moments of pure peacefulness as I ticked off the miles.

Usain Bolt and the sprinter crowd couldn't be more different from the guys who will toe the line tonight for the men's marathon. I don't want to take away from what sprinters do. They must put in incredible amounts of work -- although Bolt talked of eating McNuggets before his race -- but it's hard to relate to someone who ran hard for 60 meters then coasted to a world record. The marathon winner tonight will almost assuredly not do a dance afterwards. He'll be gutted, taken to scary places over two hours of the hardest work imaginable. He won't beat his chest, either. There are no style points in marathons.

The top American is Ryan Hall, an incredible 25-year-old runner from Mammoth Lakes, Calif., who has a good shot at a medal. Last night, I stumbled across Hall's Facebook fan page. From there, I noticed he had a link to his video page GodTube. Yes, Ryan Hall posts on GodTube. It's nothing new for athletes to publicly express their faith. I always chalked this up to their knowledge that they were born with an incredible gift. Think of the basketball player born into dire conditions but, by genetic quirk, given the ability to run and jump like a deer at 6' 8". But it often comes across as inauthentic for whatever reason, maybe because it's so cliche at this point. What's surprising is how self-aware Hall seems about his own gift, and how it requires him to work to perfect it and embrace failure. No matter your religious views or comfort level with Hall's very vocal connection of God to running, that's pretty admirable. Like a classic ectomorph, Hall is often racked with self-doubt and appears genuinely humble about all that he's been able to accomplish through a shitload of hard work. I can relate to that much more.

18 miles, 2:19

The Week's Miles

2008-08-22T15:36:00.004-05:00

This is a late because I was traveling. Last week was pretty good. I started to get used to the training lode -- more on that later -- and I got in my quality runs. One choice: I skipped running one day instead of a 5-mile recovery run. After running 12.5 miles, then 11 miles, I felt spent. My flight to San Francisco was Friday afternoon, so an evening run was out of the question. My choice was to get up Friday morning for a recover run or rest. I chose rest, particularly after a tough 11 miles in the rain.

Miles: 53

A Year in Running

2008-08-14T22:05:00.007-05:00

Last summer, I started using RunLogger, a Facebook app to track my runs. It's now been a year. In that time, I covered the distance it takes to get past Denver. It took my 235 some hours, or a little less than 10 full days or 29 work days. Looking back, it was a pretty good year. Any year I can run regularly, without injury, is a good year. Much of 2007 was forgettable race wise. I ran Delaware undertrained and paid a steep price with that catastrophe. I ran Indy and just plain had a bad race. It's the only marathon I walked in, ever, even in Delaware I never walked -- I just crumpled. Who knows why I blew up so much. It was warm, but I was just not really there mentally for a whole bunch of reasons. It taught me that it's best to run races without preoccupations. I rebounded in 2008 with a pretty good Flying Pig. It wasn't perfect, but I was happy with my training and how I ran a tough course. 3:11 isn't my best time, but it was a good time for that day. It gave me confidence I can get to where I want to go: sub 3.

Tonight, I continued the week of medium-long runs in the long slog to doing that in Philly in 15 weeks. I did 11 miles in a pretty hard rain. I wasn't sure if I'd get in the run because there was a scary thunderstorm at about 6pm. I'll run anytime, but I don't dig thunder and lightning. After I wondered on Twitter if runners ever get hit, I got several responses with horror stories. But then I thought about the Pigdog. It's easy to say that it's raining, there might be thunder, etc. I make plenty of compromises with running for work and personal obligations, but the challenge is to not give in to easy outs. I thought about that alot tonight while circling the park in the dark for an hour and a half, soaking wet. There was one woman I passed a few times. I see her out running often. She's in her 50s and moves with what's a cross between walking, running and lurching. Her face is always contorted. She goes no more than 10 minutes a mile. I thought it so cool that she's still out there in a driving rain, getting her run in when it would be much easier to stay inside and watch TV. I respect that.

11 miles, 1:26