Eagerness

This training cycle is keeping me eager. I've written already about patience. I am learning that patience must be applied on each and every scale. From patience minute-to-minute in a workout, all the way to patience in the year-long and lifelong goals in running. The patience I'm learning right now falls in the middle of the micro-macro scale.

I've never used a 24-week plan before in training. Quite honestly, I've never really had the time. Between recovery and/or time off, it always seemed to work out that my marathon training cycles were 16-18 weeks. I really feel like I have been doing myself an injustice. Phase I (of a 4 phase - six weeks per phase plan) is all "easy" paced work. Too oversimplify, "easy" pace gets a runner going fast enough to sweat, but never fast enough to breathe heavily. The reason for not running faster is so that your body can adapt to consistent mileage. There are TONS of physiological (as well as psychological) changes that are taking place during this phase. But, at the highest level, you are building up your mileage capacity. Consistent(-ly slow) gradual increase in mileage is the goal. In a 16 (or even 18) week plan, there seems to just be no time for a Phase I. You must get going on the speedwork while simultaneously building up your mileage. But with time for a phase I, you can increase your weekly mileage without the stresses of speedwork! This dramatically decreases the probability of injury. I have been basebuilding (another word for phase I) for a month now and have no signs of injury. In fact, my legs feel great! I ran 38 miles this week, which sounds low to me but, in actuality, is dead on schedule.

This is where the need for patience kicks back in. Even though I've been running for a month, I will still be in phase I until the end of June. June! My legs feel great, my workouts are getting easier. My ego is telling me to run faster, farther. I am eager for more hard work. I am eager for the gaudy numbers that I've never been able to hit without injuring myself.

I must exercise patience and stick to the plan. I must. Stick. To the plan. Boston or Bust. To hell with ego. To hell with what I want right now. Stick to the plan. This is it. I can do this. Patience. 40 miles this week. Slow and steady. Ok, enough pep talk. Shut up and run.
...Slowy.

Race (Updated) and Dublin Intrigue

Update: Check out brightroom.com's picture listing for the race! They must have thought I was pretty. They used my picture for their race website. AHhaha. You can put in bib number 85 in the form and see all the pics they took of me.

I haven't run a competitive 10k in a looooong time. I don't think I've been under 42 minutes since at least 2006. And, seeing as I have done exactly zero training above "Easy" pace in this entire cycle, I had no idea what to expect from my legs. Yesterday I ran the Capitol Hill Classic 10k race. I took from it some good things and some disappointment. If you want exact numbers, you can look here. My final time as reported by Washington Running Report was 40:48. This was the positive. I placed 59th among men and only 4 women crossed the finish line before me. This is out of about 2000 finishers. With no speed training at all, I was able to average 6:34 miles for the duration of a course with 2 significant hills. They don't call it Capitol Hill for nothing! The disappointment comes, almost exclusively, from hindsight. If I had known that I could run decently like that, I would have pressed a little harder in the beginning to see if I could dip below 40. Dipping below 40 for me is always a success. The other disappointment for me was the utter collapse I faced coming back up Capitol Hill. No one passed me on the hill, but it felt like I was running through molasses. I was red-lined for the duration of the hill. Granted, the hill is (in)conveniently situated in the latter part of the sixth mile of the course, so I had reason to be tired but, still, no excuses. Davey-boy definitely needs to work on his strength.
I just thought of another positive, though. That positive was this morning's run. Not because it was fast, however. Rather, because it was my slowest and shortest run yet! Patience reigned supreme and I was able to run slow and only for about 4 miles. All too often, if I make it out the door the next day after a hard workout or race, my legs want to run fast again. The faster stride feels natural. This, inevitably, ends in me injuring myself. But, this morning, I just jogged. And it was nice. It was a gorgeous (albeit chilly) clear cool morning and I just enjoyed the morning scenery. By the time parts started to hurt, I was pulling up to the finish line. Ok. That's it. Tooting of my own horn over for the day.


Part 2 - Dublin update. Seeing as this coming weekend marks my first long(er) run, I wanted to check to see what the water stations at the Dublin Marathon would be providing. I like to train with the same drinks and fuel that will be available along the course so that there are no surprises on race day. The following is an excerpt from the Marathon Website:
"Pure clear still water in plastic bottles will be provided at the 8 water stations."
... and? ... Really? That's it? No Gatorade? No gu? Nothing? Uh oh.
I emailed the race directors to see if there had been an omission. Nope. Just water. And at just 8 stops along the 42.2 kilometer course. Since I'm always looking for the Yin and the Yang, the good news and the bad news, let me proceed to the good news. I have 23 weeks to prepare myself to race with those circumstances! I want to experiment with just Gu (energy gels) and water. And with bringing along gatorade powder to mix in the bottles. The other good news is that the water will be served in 8oz bottles. It will be easy to meter out Gatorade powder for such a bottle. It will also be easy to calculate consumption during the marathon. 8 aid stations, 8oz per station, 64 oz (2 liters) of "pure clear still water" during the race. I'm quite sure that there will be myriad postings about caloric absorption rates and resulting race fueling strategies to come, but I have a good feeling about the symmetry of the 8 8oz bottles that will be available to me.

Goals

The term "Bucket List" has been added to the popular lexicon since the Jack Nicholson/Morgan Freeman movie of a few months ago. In my day, it was just called "goals." About 4 years ago, when I ran my first race of any kind (it was the St Patty's Day 10k), I set down a goal to qualify and run in the Boston Marathon. For those of you who don't know, the Boston Marathon is pretty much the only Marathon race in the world that you need a qualifying time to enter. It is also the oldest continuously run marathon in the world. I love Boston. I love running. I love marathons. It fits. It just makes sense to me. But it's not easy. It's such a huge goal. To get there, I need to run a marathon in 3 hours and 10 minutes or less.
The Chinese in the image above is (roughly) pronounced Nai Xing. It (also roughly) translates to patience. The symbol on the right derives itself from 'heart' and the symbol on the left derived from 'the blade of the knife.' Basically, the symbols are the illustration of how difficult it is to practice/realize the virtue. Trying to achieve this goal of mine has lead me to the waters of the patience lake. I fully expected to run my qualifier on my first try. In real life? 4:08. That's quite a ways from my goal. The Dave of yesteryear would most likely have given up at that point. "It's just too far out of reach." But this one, for some reason, wasn't even a question. "I'll try again in the fall." 3:32. "So close, I'll try again in 3 months."... 3:26.
Burnout.
"But I want to go to Boston NOWWWW!"
Patience, Dave. Patience.
All of those were in 2005. A novice runner like myself is only supposed to run 2 hard marathons per year. To allow proper time for training and recovery, there's just no sensible way to fit in more than that. But I've been the King of instant gratification. If I can't get what I want right now, I don't want it. But, again, this one is different. I realized that I overdid it after my third attempt in one year. So I took it easy in the Spring of 2006. As a result, I had my first DNF (Did Not Finish) in May of '06. It was grand. My family and friends had all come out to watch for the first time (it was in Wilmington, DE) and I had to quit at mile 21. Nai Xing. Blade of the knife through the heart. Patience, Dave. Patience. I began training immediately for a Fall marathon. This time in the Great White North. 4 full months of solid training and a fresh taste of DNF still in my mouth pushed me to train hard and put myself in the best position yet for achieving my goal. Everything had come together. I had been patient in my training, had picked a very fast course, and all but eliminated travel worries from the process. I was on pace through 21 miles when a gale-force wind picked up. 3:24. "Damn You, Mother Nature!" A month later (to the day) I ran the Marine Corps Marathon. Not knowing how my body would react so soon after my last marathon, I just ran casually. This one wasn't for time at all. This one was for fun. I latched on to a runner at about 13 miles and figured I'd just run with her until I hit the wall, then crawl the rest of the way like I had in all of my previous marathons. Mile 20 passed. 21, 22, 23. 24 passed and I was hurting, but I was still with my mate. She kicked hard up the final hill, and I lagged just a bit, but we crossed the finish at the same time. Even splits, no collapse. It was fun! This lark of a race that I had chosen to run stood up as a prime example of what can happen if I actually practice the virtue of patience. It also renewed my faith in my ability to eventually achieve my goal. For 2007, I decided that, rather than making a plan for the season, I would make a plan for the entire year. I picked a fun marathon in the spring to keep me involved and interested in training. After running in Eugene, Oregon in the Spring, I would immediately start training for the second fastest marathon in the World - The Chicago Marathon. Chicago would be it. With a year-long plan, I couldn't fail. I would be in great shape and be on the perfect course in the perfect weather. In Eugene, I hit the wall pretty hard at mile 22, staggered for a minute, but then ran right through it. No stopping. I had a shot! I was right behind goal pace. I crossed mile 26 at precisely 3 hours and 10 minutes. Unfortunately, marathons are 26 miles, 385 yards. I walked in a daze for the last bit and crossed the line at about 3:16. All was going according to plan. I was in great shape and could go right into training for Chicago. I toed the line in Chicago the fittest I've ever been. Unfortunately, my toe was sweating in the 80 degree 90% humidity. The hottest Chicago on record was shut down mid-race because people were dropping like flies. Already accustomed to disappointment in marathon running, I shut 'er down at about the 10 mile mark and merely soldiered my way to a 4 hour finish. I knew there would be another time. Patience.
Marathon running has taught me that I don't get whatever I want whenever I want it. For some reason, though, I want to achieve this particular goal more than anything else I've ever wanted. Maybe it's because I've been at it so long. Maybe it's because I've gotten so close. Maybe it's because I view it as an achievement that is unique and outstanding. Maybe it's because I feel like I owe it to marathon running to pay back for teaching me the virtue of patience.
I will qualify for Boston. If it takes me the rest of my life, I will.
Patience, Dave. Patience. Nai Xing.

New Gear

Many articles have been written on the virtues of running as an inexpensive sport. "All you need is a pair of shoes and some will." The extension of those articles is always to satire the geared-out runner. The copy is usually pretty comical because it is usually very close to the mark. Without fail, at least 2-3 times per run, I will come across someone who has spent more on what adorns them for their run than I have for my car. The sellers of said gear promise huge returns. Braces that keep you from injury, clothes that keep you warm in the winter and cold in the summer (all while looking fabulous), gadgets to track your every step, waterbelts to hold a camel's hump worth of fluids, your wallet, carbs, and a mobile hospital, iPods and accessories to keep your mind on everything but running, headgear, the WORKS.
Personally, I have always been resistant to becoming a cyborg while I run. Mainly for financial reasons but, more importantly, because I do actually enjoy running. I enjoy listening to things that are happening around me. I enjoy watching things go by. Watching people interact around me. Watching animals go about their business. I tried to run with headphones once. My run actually did go at a little faster pace. But I certainly got no particular enjoyment from the run. And I probably missed a slew of fascinating things that happened in the real world around me!
I am not, however, immune to the hype. Saturday was my first day with a new pair of running shoes. I paid $115 for them. They retail for $135. They boast an august nomenclature: Asics Gel Kayano XIV. At this point, you are undoubtedly asking what in the world could be so special about these shoes that could make them cost that much. My answer is that I'm not entirely sure. What I do know is that my legs felt awesome after both my Saturday and Sunday runs. My feet didn't have blisters and my toes were pointing forward. Could this have been the case if I had just bought new pair of the current shoes I had worn out (for about $80-$85)? Maybe so. Who knows? But I will give in to the hype and continue to wear these expensive shoes until, in my mind, they disappoint me for some reason.

But the madness doesn't stop there. Anyone who knows me on a personal level knows that I obsess about running. Hell, I even have a blog about it that, most likely, no one actually reads! Part of the obsession is the numbers game. Part of the fun of running for me is trying to manage the intricate balancing act of obsessing about paces, mileage, duration, hydration, nutrition, etc, etc, etc, ad nauseam, and just letting everything go and enjoying the primal side of the act itself. When I flounder too far to the former side, I do things like buying this. The Garmin ForeRunner 405 is a watch that secretly houses some insanely advanced computing. To make a long story short, I hit start when I begin my run and stop when I finish my run and I'm rewarded with a cornucopia of information. Do I need all of this information? No. Have people run for millennia without this sort of feedback? Yes. But damned if it isn't cool. Since what adrons my wrist is no bigger than a typical watch, I justify it in my mind. I can completely forget about it while I'm running... And then allow the obsessing to commence when I get back to my computer. A taste of the multitude of information I get from my watch looks like this:
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/68045
I hope to post these on my blog whenever I have a particularly interesting run (be it particularly good or particularly bad). I think it will really help to bring to light what it is I actually do - you know, for those of you who aren't along with me while I'm actually doing it. Check it out, it's really pretty neat.
This post has gotten a little long, so I'll go for now, but there will be plenty more where that came from.

Running in the Rain

After an entire week of utterly perfect weather, we have been rewarded in DC with the most consistent rain we've had in several years. It just... Keeps... Coming... Never fear. Running in the rain can be awesome. First and foremost, it keeps you cool. It's ready-made sweat in cool refreshing form. The other cool thing about running in the rain is the paring down of company on the streets. Those who normally walk to work take Metro or drive in. Dog walks are cut short. Leisure strollers take the morning off. And so do the non-interested runners. The National Mall at 6:15am on a rainy day is like a ghost town. Normally blanketed with tourists and locals alike, a rainy day Mall sees only a few visitors. And those visitors are the best. Lemme 'splain. There are only a few types of people that tread the gravel on the Mall. 1) the awed and curious tourist 2) the harried and combative tourist 3) the hurried and preoccupied fed. 4) the I'm-gonna-get-in-shape-this-year runner and 5) the runner. That's it. Everyone, to some degree, fits into one of these 5 types when it comes to the Mall. Of course, you have the homeless and the scant others... but in general, just those 5. On a typical morning, I see somewhere in the neighborhood of 200-300 people on the Mall. Few allow eye contact. Fewer will be receptive to a "Good Morning." Even fewer will offer one. The only smiles you see are on the faces of the Type 1's but, this early in the morning (before the Museums open their doors), there are very few of those.

Ohhh, but the rainy days...

It's just the runners. Just the #5's. The #4's see the rain as an excuse not to have to torture themselves again. The 1's, 2's, and 3's all find other ways of getting around (and who can blame them?). During the time I spent on the Mall yesterday, I saw only 4 other people. 4! Down from 200-300! Each and every one gave an enormous knowing smile and a verbal greeting. Each "Morning!" or "Howyadoin?!" sounded like the vernacular greeting but, in reality, each was dripping with subtext. "Hey! You're a fellow #5! Isn't it awesome to run in the rain!? I know our shoes will be soaking wet tomorrow when we lace 'em up for another run, but it's sooo worth it! It's awesome to be out here, isn't it?! Just enjoying what we do, no matter the circumstances?" Those awesome bursts of energy from interactions with fellow runners get punctuated with quiet serene intervals when nothing is heard but the sound of infinite drops of perfect clear water hitting leaves and blades of grass and the sound of my solitary footfalls. The muted light and matted palette leaving nothing for the eye to focus on.
...until another #5 comes along. I love running in the rain.

Day 1c

HahAH. I feel like im gonna blow my load on the first day, but everything is fresh in my mind right now. I'm super excited about visiting the North Atlantic. As of last Wednesday, 90% of the travel arrangements are set. My buddies Trevor and Tom are coming with me to cheer me on (well they're goin for the pubs, but they might also show up on race day). We're staying in Dublin from the Friday before the race until Wednesday. We will try to see as much of the Green Isle as we can in that time. The at the crack of dawn on Weds, we catch a flight to Edinburgh Scotland. We load up on Scotish experiences and scotch (we're going to the Glenlivet Distillery) until Friday morning and jet back stateside on Halloween.

Day 1b

The thing that really lit the fire under my ass for this blog was taking my RHR (Resting Heart Rate). At the precipice of beginning my "real" training, my RHR while sitting at my computer was 51. It was 60 about 4 weeks ago, so I am thrilled. This is definitely a result of consistent 6-7 days a week training. Since, to get an accurate RHR, I am supposed to take it when I first wake up, I'm gonna go ahead and assume 50. In addition, my scale just told me I weigh 152 pounds. Yeah, beotch, down 8 from just a month or so ago. Of course, my weight fluctuates 5 pounds in a day, but still.. I think I am actually somewhere in that neighborhood. I write these stats up here not to brag or anything but, rather, because I am also using this blog for personal reasons. I want to be able to chart progress and find trends, in addition to having a personal record for the training that got me to Boston. For the record, I'd love to get my RHR below 50 (45 maybe?) and my weight down to 143-145-ish. I've never actually had the rate that low or weighed that little, so we'll see. But I think I have at least that much to lose. Cutting weight means less to keep in motion but, just as (or even more) importantly, it means less weight to bear on impact of footfall. Less impact on the legs = less injury. Less injury = Goal.

Day 1

Not Day 1 of training but, rather, Day 1 of the blog. Let's get to it. I have been consistently running since April 25th. That’s a little over two weeks. In general, I had become pretty out of shape. Building up to the National Marathon, I ran two consecutive >60 Mile weeks and had never even run 1 genuine 60 before then. I topped it off the next week with a Half Marathon race - B&A Trail Half. The following Tuesday after the Half, I went out for a recovery run and basically tore the shit out of my left calf. I couldn't walk, let alone run. No Marathon for me. Long story short, I kept pushing and re-injuring and eventually ended up taking about a month off with no activity whatsoever. I was forced (luckily) to rehab smartly. I started by observing the direction of my feet. My left foot out at an acute angle. It should stick straight out. From this I gleaned that my muscles in my left leg had never fully reformed after an injury in High School (sorry, kind of a jump, but I'm trying to keep this to less than novel length). I basically ran and walked with a permanent limp. So, for the time that I could during my injury, I did exercises to build up the right muscles and regain correct motor control of the affected area. Then I started running sporadically to get myself back into the running mindset and to start to get back into shape. I weighed about 160 and felt totally lethargic after all the downtime. I knew that at this point I had PLENTY of time to train, so I began researching new training plans that allowed for the longer training duration. This is when I re-discovered the Daniels method. Jack Daniels (no relation) was named by Runner's World as the greatest track coach of all time. I read his book Daniels' Running Formula. He believes in a 24 week plan. I was, at the time, 27 weeks out. Kismet. Awesome. The first of the 4 phases of the training is the Basebuilding Phase. This is consistent with about 90% of all training programs in use today and derives mainly from the teachings of Arthur Lydiard (I went to a lecture/class given by the man himself several years back. He, unfortunately, died recently from complications of a stroke. His theories form the foundation for almost all running coaching today). Daniels basically suggests that, for as long as the calendar allows, you run absolutely no faster than conversational pace. The purpose of this is to establish a foundation for the rest of the specific training to follow. The object is to run as consistently as possible, to increase weekly mileage, but to never stress the body too much. I FINALLY have the time to do this right! In all training cycles past, I have rushed this phase and combined it with the specific faster training. And, 9 times out of 10, I have been injured during training. This coming Sunday (May 11th - Mother's Day) starts the 24-weeks-to-go thick of this training cycle.