War lost / Battles won

When we stepped out of the hotel this morning a cooled air I expected to greet us simply didn’t. I didn’t want to verbalize the demoralizing thought to the rest of the team, but it felt downright humid if you would have asked me. It wasn’t hot, hovering somewhere in the Upper 60’s at 6:30 am, but the humidity was apparent enough to give me concern for the race. “Oh well,” I thought to myself, and just carried on with normal race preparations leading up to the start call.

Groups of lean runners bunched behind the imaginary force field that is the start line and quickly shared goal times with each other. I heard a couple runners mention going for a Trials Qualifier (sub 1:05) and others go for less ambitious 71’s, 73’s and so on. It seemed I was going to be out near the front of the pack with only a handful of others as I aimed for a 68 finisher.

The airhorn filled the silenced air in the mall parking lot and we followed suit off the line onto a nearby street. Sure enough, 3 runners moved ahead out front and Poray and myself followed behind at a safe distance and conservative speed. Almost too conservative I wondered. The rest of the field swallowed the road behind us as we moved through the first mile and although my heart rate worked off the initial surge of adrenaline, I felt very smooth, very easy and almost very slow. My goal for the first mile was to ease into a 5:18/mile pace, but as Poray and I kicked down the road I feared we might go through around 5:25 or 5:30, so imagine my surprise when we hit the first marker at 5:18 on the dot. I was thrilled it felt that effortless and was bolstered with confidence. I won that battle solidly.

Rolling into the second mile the course took a turn downhill and we blasted down a quick decline into a flat stretch that gently continued at a net gain. I continued to feel solid just off Poray’s heels when a couple other runners moved up to join us. One of them moved past Poray and I, and when Poray followed I made the decision to hang back and conserve my efforts for later. The other runner pulled up next to me and we continued on exchanging efforts, crossing the 2nd mile clock at 5:09. Ok, that was a touch fast, but not with any deliberate strain on my part as the downhill had pulled us quickly into the distance.

Myself and the other runner were joined by yet another as we moved through a 3rd mile that started to climb gradually, but the course soon took another dive quickly and severely into the 3rd mile. The two runners dropped off behind me going down the hill and I passed the 3rd clock at 5:19, still right on pace for my final goal time.

The course took an inevitable turn upwards after the severe downhill, but rolled over a hilltop and back down yet again, quickening my pace ever more. All alone now I went through the fourth clock in 5:10, an encouragingly fast split considering how smooth I continued to feel despite the undulations.

At this point I was all alone and as Poray and the other runner continued to move far out ahead I realized this was probably going to be my position for quite some time…no man’s land. I hate that point. PR’s rarely come when you’re out on your own as it becomes increasingly difficult to convince yourself you have more gears, but when another runner is pressing at your back or pulling at your competitive strings, the ability to find speed is almost magical.

I continued to move quickly into the course, staying calm with the knowledge I still had a ways to go, but also noticing my singlet was already soaked in sweat and swinging with the weight across my back. The humidity had shown itself without reservation. I pushed through another mile of undulating roads that lay refreshingly shaded by trees and ran along a massive river, crossing the 5th clock at 5:18, still ahead of pace.

Although encouraged by my PR setting pace, the course started throwing obstacles into my path, laying down road that began to climb out of the downhill it set early in the race. Mile 6 climbed ever so gradually with only a few flat or downhill sections of relief, which showed when I crossed the mile 6 mark in 5:26, 33:00 minutes even. I did the calculation in my head and figured if I could repeat the first half tempo I’d be dead on for a 1:08 finish, but that confidence was quickly dashed as the course began unrelenting climbs upward. Adding insult to injury a speed sapping hill shot skyward where the mile 7 clock sat at the top, of which I maxed my systems out going through in 5:27.

Soon after, the course rolled downhill for a short stretch before ending all plans of a smooth run to the finish when it suddenly stretched out far before me…uphill. And didn’t quit. With an open line of sight I could continue to keep tabs on Poray and his competition as they repeatedly swapped places with each other, but I stayed back in no man’s land working hard up the ceaseless incline that comprised the rest of the course. I worked through mile 8 at 5:23, which deceptively ignored the continuous incline upwards.

I ran on periodically looking ahead for short, flat stretches or downhill that I could capitalize on to get back to PR pace, but the only thing I saw was the flat face of the road continuing to climb and climb and climb, not severely, but certainly consistently. This was not looking good and this was not going to change.

As the road stretched on I struggled to keep form, to keep my breathing rhythmic, to keep my legs pushing off the ground instead of turning over merely with memory, but this was an ever losing war. I had won some pacing battles early on, but those were fleeting and disappearing off into the distance. I continued to roll alone into mile 9 at 5:28, then mile 10 at 5:27, not able to make up any lost time from previously slowed miles, only consoled by the fact that I was soon to be 2 miles out from the finish when the course would hopefully let up and I could try to make one last unrestricted effort through the line.

Then finally, just as I hit mile 11 at 5:37, my worst pacing yet, another runner pulled up behind me and compelled me to push forward quicker, despite the continuously rising course. I felt him just off the back of me and we moved faster into mile 12 as the course began to even itself out. I was pretty spent at this point from the effort, so I wasn’t all that surprised when we crossed mile 12 at 5:33. I knew my PR was out of reach at this point, but hoped to just come through the line strong.

A mile out the finish area was in sight and we started rolling strong towards the end, this other runner taking the lead and pulling me along. It felt good to let my breathing go and just start pushing hard into the finish, back on the pace I wanted to hold earlier on. The finish area got closer and closer and about 800 out from the line another moved up and rolled on us hard. We both pushed to maintain pace, but he continued ahead as I started to fall off the back.

Then in a more comical moment of the race, all 3 of us ran towards the finish when the announcer informed the crowd of our coming. “Here they are ladies and gentleman! The first women finishers…I think on a course record! It’s going to be a 1,2,3 kick to the finish! Wait…I think it’s just the first woman in that group. Actually, hold on, these are all still men. I just got word our first woman is still 10 minutes back.”  I never got confirmation, but I do believe the gender mix-up was due to my long hair, which admittedly, is quite untypical of most male runners.

Then, to add insult to injury, the course took one last upward step into the finish, sapping any seconds saving sprint I might have had in me. The three non-women runners kicked to the line, myself unable to make any last competitive effort, crossing the line in a decent, but somewhat disappointing 1:10:38, securing 8th place overall.

Although initially disappointed in my performance, after so much post-race discussion with my teammates, we all came to the conclusion that the variables weren’t actually in our favor this day, as we all felt to be in much faster shape, but still failed to perform to our expectations. A number of other runners expressed the same. It’s hard to pinpoint what just wasn’t “on” today, whether that was the predominately uphill second half of the course, the humid weather, the lack of competition, etc. Who knows, the clock only reads them as excuses, and the overall war was lost without question.

But let’s not dwell on the negative variables of the day, for there were battles I wanted to win and did so concretely and it is these I will take forward into the buildup to Chicago.

First off, though coming in approximately 45 seconds slower than my PR (which I set on this course last year), I ran significantly stronger and endured further even more this year, which convinces me I’m still a stronger runner at this point now than I was last year. This is where I want to be and where I need to be.

Then there was my pacing, of which I often tragically fail at early in the race, but this time I ran conservatively, only spurred on strongly by the drops in elevation, yet still able to recover back to goal pacing before the course went upwards.  This is a battle I lose again and again, but I came in mentally prepared this time around and won this smashingly, holding back at the start to hit a conservative pace on the dot.

And most importantly, and somewhat unexpectedly, that first mile and subsequent 5:18 miles into the first half of the course…..felt easy. Real easy. 5:18 is the average I need to run at Chicago to qualify for the trials, and to be honest, I’ve struggled to hit this pacing consistently in my workouts leading up to this point, with a few notable exceptions. So, to be able to run 5:18 without excessive effort, without feeling like I’m over-stressing myself, without great concern that I won’t be able to maintain this pacing deeper into the course is a HUGE battle won. Of course, I hold no illusions that I could maintain 5:18 for a marathon right now, but still being 6 weeks out, I’m confident I’ll be able to build up to that or at least get really close. That small, but important, dynamic of this race made the effort entirely worth it and above all else this is what I’m taking with me into the coming weeks of workouts and one last race.

In the end I could easily sulk over missing a PR, over getting rolled by two runners in the last miles, over failing to push when I was all alone, but that will get me no closer to a successful run on October 10th. Today’s war is over, but I won enough battles to become that much more hardened for when it really, REALLY counts. That’s the only war I HAVE to win right now. The rest are merely flesh wounds.

13.1 miles
1:10:38
8th place

Columbus 1/2 – Pre race

At the running store where we picked up our pre-race bags the clerk asked me, “So, are you ready for the race?”

Trying to retain some humility I answered, “I think so.”

Honestly though, I’m a good dose more confident than just, “I think so.” I’m certainly ready, if only because I’ve been consistently training for months now, but the question is what I’m ready for. A PR? A smart race? Avoiding a DNF? My hopes are that I’m ready for a PR as I hope for this every race. It’s been so difficult to tell where I am fitness-wise, but with a few strong workouts this past week, it seems like I’m on track to run a fast race today. And I really need this too. Chicago is coming up and having a solid 1/2 time is a good indicator of what can be run during the marathon.

Still, until the 13.1 miles are covered, you just don’t know where you stand. Regardless, I’ve got a couple things in my favor to run a PR.

My fitness is on track with the last couple weeks of strong workouts, but this doesn’t guarantee I’m ready to run faster than last year’s 1:09:46 showing, even though most runner’s expectations hinge on their assumed fitness. My strength this time around is my experience. I expressed my concerns to Michelle this week, telling her I am not convinced I’m a better runner now as I was last year, but she offered me the assurance that I certainly am. What I relented to was that if I’m not a better runner, I’m at least a WISER runner.

I’ve continuously battled the adrenaline surge that fills me every race and compels me to shoot off the starting line like my shorts are on fire. Time and time again I refused to learn the lesson I’d bluntly experience when further into the race I’d start to die..and die terribly. I consistently blew my fitness in the first 3 miles and this race last year was no exception. Yes, I ran a PR, but it should have been so much faster than the 45 second decrease I managed. I wanted to walk so bad at mile 11 last year that it took all my mental strength to keep pushing through. This time around, I plan to correct that overzealous race method.

Then there is the knowledge I’ve gained regarding training, which I hope translates into a strong race tomorrow. It’s A knowledge I’ve really only come to understand in the past couple weeks. It’s a touch embarrassing to admit, but it took me a full 3 years to accept this little nugget of training wisdom, one which I’ve read over and over again in basically every running magazine I’ve picked up….effective recovery. The magazines say it. The elites say it. My coach says it.

Run slow.

Well, on recovery days anyways. It’s a hard component of training to accept, that in order to get faster, one must run slower. I wanted to believe that being able to run at a quickened pace on days reserved for recovery meant that I was only increasing my capacity to run faster further down the line, but recently I’ve missed some of my workout times. Part of this was directly related to the weather, but it wasn’t all that. Finally, after a week of unscheduled high mileage and some difficult workouts where my legs felt heavy from the start, my coach finally laid the smack down. He wrote to me on my running log,

“Scott, you can’t run 13 moderately paced miles on a recovery day and expect to be ready to put in an effective workout the next day. I appreciate your attempt to accumulate mileage, but if you want to be worth anything on the quality days, you need to take the easy days EASY.”

So, I figured I’d try his theory…a theory I’ve read over and over and over again. Run slow. The first recovery day my legs were so shot that I really had no option but to run 8:00 miles, however, after feeling just how strong and loose my legs felt after that run and then how they felt the next day for the workout, of which I nailed, I was sold. So, no matter how decent I’ve felt on my non-workout days these past couple weeks, I’ve deliberately taken it easy on my recovery days…and the difference is stunning. I’m so less fatigued after the run and so ready for the workout days that I’ve been able to lay down confidence building efforts when they really matter, which is the whole point of the recovery days in the first place.

And for that I’m much wiser and much fitter than I would have been had I kept to my old plan of running machismo.

The question now, which will be resolved tomorrow if I put my expected racing plan into action, is will I be fit enough and wise enough to lay down a solid PR?The course is in my favor, the competition is in my favor, the weather seems to be in my favor and the only variable left is whether and I can run wisely and use my rested legs and built fitness to put down the performance I hope for.

So, am I ready? Yeah, I’m ready in theory….now it’s just a matter of practice.

I hope to follow this with a positive race report. For now, it’s bad TV at the hotel and continued rest for my legs. Until tomorrow.

 

The running stars align

Which is really to say, the weather finally broke.

I’m not about to say we are out of the thick (air) of it just yet as we still have some high 80s temperatures raising the mercury this week, but we have enough consistent low to mid 80s temperatures and a 78 thrown in to offer a sense of relief blowing in on a breeze. Yesterday’s “Tuesday Night Terror” workout was evidence of this.

For weeks now we’ve been struggling desperately to hit the goal times our coach has been throwing at us, which this late in the game shouldn’t be that difficult. Whether it was half-marathon pace (5:10 – 5:13) or marathon goal pace (5:18) didn’t matter, we were off every time. It was easy to blame the weather, the choking blanket of air stuffed down our throats and wrapped around our legs, but after so many failed runs we started to question whether it was just a compromised level of fitness. Then finally, after a relative break in the weather, when the sun looked the other way and the air temperature fluxuated with the breezes, we were able to throw down a speed workout that was defined more by the speed and not the workout.

With a 1/2 marathon race coming up this weekend we have a week of scaled back mileage and a workout of 4 miles at 1/2 marathon pace. We discussed potential goal times during our warmup, but none of us were confident we would get close or even hang on for marathon pace. Our confidence has been beat so much this summer that it was hard to stay hopeful, but then we started the run.

Our first mile and a half was on a gradual incline with the next going down before ending on a flat stretch. After some nervous pre-workout discussion we gave into the task ahead of us and took off up the rail trail. And something was different.

Poray and I were off quick and our breathing stayed under control. The trail climbed upwards ever so slightly, but where I often felt the incline and my legs noticeably worked to push harder, this time I felt smooth and controlled. Fast even. Farther up the first mile when normally my heartrate would increase and my breathing would become forceful and sounded, I became aware that this WASN’T happening. I was actually still breathing easy and in control, still running smooth and still feeling fast. We went through the uphill mile at 5:10. On the dot.

Continuing upwards Poray and I ran together, only slightly gaining a quarter-step on each other, helping keep pace by way of not going lazy in our own heads, giving in to the increasing effort stretching out on the trail before us. Blowing by groups of other runners we hit the 1/2 way point of mile two at 2:35 before turning around to head towards the declining miles. Still feeling strong and only encouraged by the assistance of the decline we pushed past mile 2 at 5:07.

Personally, I didn’t feel out of the clear of an ever worsening effort as the run wore on, but despite my more rapid breathing at this pace, I wasn’t quite yet out of control, still running smooth and breathing rhythmically. The 5:07 mile was an assurance that this run was truly different than our past runs where we would have struggled to stay in the 5:20s.

Pushing further down mile 3 Poray started to make a small gap on me that drug me onward. The start of mile 3 felt difficult as my breathing became more labored and the snap in my legs gave way to a more concentrated effort to push off the ground and stay smooth instead of pounding back down. Poray looked as if he was running effortlessly and although I felt a change in my form, I was surprised at how I felt knowing the speed at which we were running, with another gear or two if we needed it. We glided through mile 3, myself at 5:08.

Soon after that marker we came upon a busy intersection with cars stopped in the far lane and a steady stream coming off the turn. Poray, a couple seconds ahead of me, had to pull up and wait for a gap to continue on, but I didn’t want to lose momentum. Pulling out my experience as a bike messenger I slowed up ever so slightly to time a crossing, looked a driver in the eye and blasted between the front and rear bumper of two large vehicles before stepping up momentum and transitioning back to my previous pace. Poray threw up his hands in frustration when I sprinted ahead (I promise I wasn’t racing you Poray) before making the crossing and then blowing by me in the first 400. We hit the flattened trail stretching out towards the finishing mile and continued to push. I don’t know if it was the adrenaline rush of brazenly braving the traffic line or another indicator that I really am in a heightened state of fitness, but I didn’t slow the last mile and STILL felt fast and smooth. My watch ticked off 2:33 at the half, even with the brief slowing and I focused on staying within a few paces of Poray’s rotating legs.  Leading into the last 400 we continued to blow by everyone else moving down the trail in various paces and began the finishing effort staying in control and refraining from opening up into another gear. I hit the watch at the line and it read 5:07, which I estimated to be around 5:05 from the frogger challenge in the last mile.

I was stoked.

Finally. Finally we were able to really put down a fast workout, hit our times and even surpass them without any unavoidable obstacle. With this weekend’s race coming up it was imperative to have that confidence builder, knowing that our fitness has been smothered under a blanket of air all this time, no matter how hard we tried to drag it into the open. The wet air was just too heavy, but now that the seasons are finding their rightful place on the calendar, we are able to really gauge just where we stand and just where we need to be in about 6 months.

Let’s hope this seasonal shift is legit and lasting. We are going to need every workout we can get leading up to October 10th to really count. Regardless, it was nice to finally have this first one.

Don’t worry, go vegan.

Recently a running partner of mine questioned me, somewhat presumptively, about my diet and the supplements I take for it. He certainly wasn’t the first and, for the record, I don’t mind the line of questioning as it has never come from a point of reactionary defense, but really just genuine interest. I don’t mind answering questions like that, even if they are a bit presumptive.

Specifically he asked, “So, because of your diet, you take an iron pill for your running right?”

Taken back a little I paused, then quickly responded in the negative. “No. Not at all. Actually I don’t take anything except a sublingual B12 supplement. I’ve never felt I needed to take anything, never felt fatigued, weak or overly sore, so I never bothered considering it.” And I didn’t.

I think most vegans get this line of questioning in some form or another. I’ve had others ask me about my protein intake, calcium, etc. etc. There is always some nutrient that people feel is inherently lacking in the vegan diet and so they have great interest in finding out where I get that specific nutrient. They assume that if I am surviving and thriving, especially as an athlete, that I must supplement heavily in one way or another, as simply eating whole foods would be insufficient.

The line of questioning doesn’t bother me, but it has me considering why it’s so prevalent and I’ve come to a couple conclusions.

First off, the assumptions that the vegan diet is lacking in one nutrient or another is based in a very skewed and deliberate cultural perception, a perception that I believe is propagated by those that profit from it, namely animal food industries. We are told from such a young age that “calcium comes from cow’s milk” and “protein comes from animal flesh” and we are told it so often that people grow up believing that there are no other sources for these nutrients or that if there are, they are not sufficient to live on. It’s why people continually ask, “But where do you get your protein?” and never stop to consider where cows, chickens and other vegetarian animals get THEIR protein. It’s plants and grains by the way…unless they are factory farmed animals where their protein comes from other ground up animals in their feed.

Anyways, what this leads to is a skewed perception on how vegans eat. The idea is that protein or calcium or iron comes from animal sources and so if you eat vegan then you don’t get those nutrients. The perception is that vegans simply remove nutrient sources from their diet….and never replace them with something else. as a further example, I come across this logic in discussions about the validity of anarchism when others ask, “But if you get rid of the police, everyone will just kill each other!”, which for one, isn’t true, but also ignores the notion that we might just have ideas of what to replace the police with. And that’s the same perception with veganism, that we simply remove foods from our diet and have nothing to replace them with. We effectively STOP EATING. This is, of course, ridiculous.

To get past this perception though we must first debunk the idea that some nutrients only come from animals. Again, let’s reiterate that strong vegetarian animals that humans often eat have to eat something to become strong and healthy. They, of course, eat plants. They obviously get nutrients from plants, grains, etc. just as we do the same. One could argue that we try to get those nutrients in a more efficient manner by simply eating the flesh of the animals that have already eaten the plants and grains, but however true that may be, we can’t deny that we are also ingesting a number of other products that we would do better not to, especially at the levels that most do in the standard american diet. Simply put though, plants, grains and legumes contain all the nutrients we need to thrive with one or two that take a little more awareness.

With that in mind, let’s address the next concern, whether we need to supplement our diets. The quick answer is No and Yes. On the whole, supplementation through pills, powders and other concoctions is for people who eat like crap in the first place. The vegan diet, just like ANY diet (vegetarian, omnivorous), will not be sufficient if you don’t eat properly from the start. If you choose to eat processed foods stripped of their nutrients, over sugared junk and primarily packaged and preserved foods….then yes, you will probably be lacking something here or there. On the other hand, if you eat a variety of foods (put a rainbow on your plate), eat them close to their “whole” state and prepare them more often then nuking them, you’ll do just fine. You won’t need supplements because you’ll already be getting everything from your foods.

And that brings me back to the original point. I don’t need to take iron pills, or calcium pills or drink protein shakes because I get enough of those nutrients in the foods I eat. And contrary to popular belief, plant foods offer sufficient amounts of nutrients even in comparison to animal flesh foods. Take Iron for instance. There is actually more iron per 100 calories in spinach than there is in red meat. The same goes for broccoli and lentils. Calorie for calorie plant foods are often more nutrient dense than their animal flesh counterparts.

Here…here’s a table specifically on Iron to show you.

http://www.vrg.org/nutrition/iron.htm

I will concede though, there are some nutrients to be aware of, but these are nutrients that everybody should be aware of, no matter how you choose to eat. B12 is of the greatest concern, primarily because it isn’t readily available in anyone’s diet. Both human and non-human animals as well as plants are unable to create B12 in their systems. B12 is a product of bacteria and non-human animals absorb it in their system by food contaminated by bacteria, whether that is from feces or other sources. Humans then eat the animals and absorb that bacteria. There were once arguments that humans got enough B12 through traces of bacteria in the dirt when we didn’t oversterilize and overpasturize our foods, but that isn’t the case anymore.

Because of this, I do supplement with B12 drops. The good thing is that B12 is stored in the body for long periods of time and so the depletion rate isn’t as quick as other nutrients, so if you pay attention to the foods you eat and make sure you are eating some B12 fortified foods (cereal, soymilk, margarines, juices, nutritional yeast) and taking an oral supplement every week, you’ll be just fine.

The ultimate point here is that the vegan diet is a sufficient diet to thrive on, even as an athlete, and that most supplements are only necessary when we fail to eat a diversity of whole and nutrient dense foods, save the rare exceptions where individuals are unable to absorb one thing or another.

So no, don’t be worried about what you eat, but be aware of what you eat. Eat well and expect to live well. You’ll get your protein. You’ll get your iron. You’ll get your calcium. You’ll get your vitamin D. And in the process you’ll leave out so much other junk, like saturated fat, sugars, cholesterol, etc. etc. The greater dietary concerns should not be in our court, but theirs.

The swarm

“Hi Scott,
We have received your entry for the 2010 Bank of America Chicago Marathon Elite Development Program.  Your entry will be processed and you should see yourself listed on the Registration Confirmation page in a few days.  You can check your status here:
http://www.active.com/uploads_search.cfm?UPM_ID=3286&CHECKSSO=0

Good luck with the rest of your training.

Best Regards,
Eric Lesch
Bank of America Chicago Marathon
Elite Development Program”

And all of a sudden I have my first case of pre-marathon butterflies. It’s a tickle for now, but will build to a swarm.

All in due time

A friend at work asked me today, “Isn’t the Chicago Marathon pretty soon?”

As if I wasn’t already starting to feel pangs of anxiety about the looming date and my assumed fitness, this question struck me rather pointedly.

“Yeah,” I responded, “just under 2 months from now.”

I try to tell myself that 2 months is a long time to get ready for the race, but when something this big is approaching, 2 months goes by reeeeeeeeal quick. And I want to be ready. And right now I’m still not.

For instance, today was a tough workout. 15 miles total with the middle 6 starting at Marathon Goal Pace (5:18) and ending at Half-Marathon Pace (5:10). Starting out into the warmup my legs were heavy and actually my legs were heavy all day. I was just damn tired. I hoped the warmup would shake them out, but that didn’t happen. I launched into the first mile and felt myself struggling, but trying not to run too hard. I went through at 5:21…ehh, I’ll take it. I then continued on and found myself struggling even harder, only to pass the mile marker at 5:24….eh, I won’t take it. Then as I tried to push hard into the 3rd mile, hoping something would click and I’d start rolling smooth, everything started to get worse. I was struggling to get my breath and my legs just wouldn’t push off the ground, still feeling like gravity was kicked up a couple notches. I blew up halfway into the mile. From then on I tried to recover and then run fast for a mile or so, but could never get going. I finally threw in the towel and just worked to drag my ass back home to complete the 15 miles. Granted, it didn’t help that it was 90 degrees out, but at least it wasn’t humid!

This was a big blow to my confidence. It’s weird to run 5:10 miles for 5 miles straight two weeks earlier and then come back and struggle to run a 5:21 mile for 2 consecutive miles. Obviously, something is off. It could be a number of things, but I don’t want to offer excuses. I just want to take this and move on.

But that question looms….”Isn’t Chicago coming pretty soon?” Yes. Yes it is. But let’s not get carried away. Let’s break down the timeline and see what’s really going to happen before October 10th.

We’ve got approximately 7 weeks of training left. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but even with a 2 week taper, we’re looking at about 5 to 6 long runs, now with speed and quality added. That’s at least another hundred miles of long and fast running. Beyond that, we have approximately 12 to 14 more speed workouts, the very foundation of our speed and endurance. That’s a LOT of quality and a LOT of miles still…probably around 210 miles of strong, strong efforts. Those workouts are going to undeniably have a big effect on our fitness come race day, no matter where we are at right now. Then add to those workouts, 4 more recovery days a week at a minimum of 10 miles a day, and right there we still have at least 280 more miles to add to our legs…probably more. In all, that’s another 600 or so miles leading up to race day. That’s significant. That’s a lot of room for improvement.

Now “less than 2 months” doesn’t seem so close and gives me hope that my fitness will continue to grow as the final date grows near.

For all of us, at our respective levels, no matter what our goals are, we still have a sufficient amount of time to get where we want to go. Try not to get too discouraged just yet…the weather is going to turn over and our legs will do the same, quicker and quicker. Onward friends.

Running in perspective

Elite runners often feel inadequate as runners. It sounds silly, but I think it’s one of the characteristics that make us elite runners. We feel inadequate because we are never satisfied with where we are at, never satisfied with falling short of our goals. And it is having those lofty goals that create this situation. We reach far in front of us and although we are all aware of the long work and significant time it takes to reach those goals, until we actually get there, we feel inadequate. From time to time we may taste some satisfaction, maybe hitting a projected time in a race along the way or nailing a difficult workout, but until we reach that pie in the sky goal that often lies months and months away, we feel inadequate.

This is ok, it’s what drives us. We don’t WANT to feel this way so we put in more and more work when we fall short. When those marathon goal pace runs come up short, we don’t feel like throwing in the towel, but rather using it to wipe our sweat drenched faces and figure out how to hit it next time. The important thing is to always keep this in mind, to keep perspective, to remember it’s where we are going not where we are.

Today was our Tuesday night workout and with a break in the relentless humidity that has been sucking us dry, we had the opportunity to really put in an honest effort. And we were going to need it as coach had 10 x 800’s with 200 meter recovery jogs in between on our docket. This is never an easy workout. It’s fast and it’s repetitive. There isn’t much relaxing or coming back, but just trying to hold on repetition after repetition as the body breaks down further and further until the workout is over.

Often referred to as Yasso 800’s, the goal is to run your projected marathon goal time (so 2 minutes and 18 seconds for a 2:18 marathon), then recover and do it again and again and again. In the original version the recovery is the same time as your 800, but our coach says its much better to cut the recovery significantly and work to tax your system. A recovery like the original calls for is just too long and the benefits of the workout get lost in the downtime. Our recovery distance was 200 meters, which should have been 1 minute 30 seconds, but being the type of runners we are, we accidently found ourselves cutting the recovery down to a minute….which is not advisable.

So we started out deliberately slow, running through our first 800 at 2:29, which was slower than we were hoping, then following that up with a 2:22 and another. Then the effort started to take its toll as each 800 completion added another second or two onto my total time and I struggled to stay smooth and quick with each pass around the track. I went 2:23, 2:25, 2:26, 2:27, 2:29, 2:32, 2:33.

This is where perspective comes in. Well, actually perspective came in somewhere around the 7th repetition when I was dropping deeper and deeper into the upper 20’s and low 30’s. I began doubting myself and my goal of qualifying for the US Marathon Trials, but knew I had to block those thoughts out if I was going to keep pushing to the end of the workout. Even more, I needed to find a silver lining to keep me going hard. And that’s when the perspective hit me.

I’m not running the Chicago Marathon for approximately another 2 months.

What that means is that, although I would like to be consistently running 2:18’s for each of those 800’s, I shouldn’t have expected to. If I could nail that workout and run 2:18’s RIGHT NOW, then in theory I should be ready to run Chicago RIGHT NOW. But I’m not and Chicago is a number of difficult workouts away, as it should be. I’m not at Chicago right now and I needed to understand that I’m in training, which denotes a significant amount of time to build up to the big race. That’s what these workouts are for, not to necessarily show me that I can’t run 2:18, but to make me a better and better run to do so.

Just before we launched into the first 800 a teammate expressed his dread of doing this workout, knowing it was “going to hurt”. And he was right and I understand the sentiment, but like a tattoo, where you’re like, “This is going to kill…why in the hell am I doing this again?”, subconsciously you know there is a purpose to it and the reward is greater and more lasting than the pain will ever be. It’s a forgotten memory when all is said and done, but what you walk away with is a great reward, in this case a greater sense of fitness. And that’s the other necessary perspective to desperately hold onto, that these workouts should be looked at with enthusiasm, knowing these are the crucial runs that, no matter how much they hurt, are going to make you better, make you faster and pull that projected goal time closer and closer. These are the workouts that make those goals tangible and worthwhile. That shouldn’t be faced with dread.

Then during the workout I got one more dose of perspective. Although feeling a little concerned that I was only getting worse and worse during the effort and further and further away from not only my projected goal time, but also last year’s finishing marathon time, it was then brought up that we were doing those recovery jogs way too fast. Our coach even said that with such a shortened recovery time our 800’s were really good. Of course, I’d like mine to be better, but keeping the perspective that we made that workout even harder than it was originally supposed to be gave me a new perspective on the success of that effort.

Suddenly things didn’t seem like they went so poorly today. I’m one level faster than I was before, I did it with enthusiasm and I did it in a way more difficult than originally planned.

Running isn’t easy and setting goals for yourself makes not only the efforts seem desperate and crucial, but also lends to getting down on yourself as do or die time approaches and you’re not where you want to be. That’s ok, this is an uphill battle that will ultimately peak and start rolling unstoppably downhill to the finish line. Keep that in perspective and run with it.

The State Fair Isn’t

A majority of my runs follow the straight and narrow stretch of rail-trail that links downtown Indianapolis to all points North. One notable section intersects the State fairgrounds and the often empty parking spots that get used by either Indy 500 urban campers or the fair carnies who take refuge in their campers and indulge in all sorts of, well, carnal pleasures. I don’t wanna know.

I enjoy running this stretch of trail and every year there comes a day when the first of the carnie trucks pulls up and starts unloading the pieces of one of their rickety amusement rides. I feel like a little kid who just watched the circus train on the horizon and now has a duty to tell everyone what’s coming. “The fair is here! The fair is here!”

But that was then and this is now. See, some of my more hipster cohorts always get pumped about going to the fair, but not because they really enjoy what the fair is all about, but rather because they like to play the cliche. They’ll dig a worn out cowboy hat out of their closet and pretend to get excited about eating deep fried shit…hey, I call it what it is. I, on the other hand, really enjoyed going to the fair. I liked people watching (the hoosier species is really quite a sight), I liked studying the simplistic mechanics of the old style tractors, I liked the pioneer village and so on. But really, that got old. After attending the fair a few years in a row the gloss tends to wear off, or more realistically, the gloss turns out to be a low-grade, environmentally destructive shellac that dried up and flaked off after a couple years in the sun and the true surface underneath showed through. That surface being a dull, rusted veneer of gross.

After a few years at the fair, things get old. The people no longer become fascinating, but really just sad. The price of ride tickets completely overshadows any joy my stepson gets from spinning in dizzying circles while I wait for errant bolts to fly off and hit unsuspecting passersby. The elephant ears, which every so often seem like a fun thing to eat, always turn out to taste like absolute non-food like crap.

Still, as ugly as a picture I’ve painted, I find I can still overlook all that if only to find a nugget of fun amidst all that absurdity. But not this year.

This year I feel like I’ve been reinvigorated in my ethics or at least my unwillingness to compromise them for certain social events. The fair has pushed me to the edge once again. Each year the fair presents “something” as its theme, which in the past years has always been one crop or another – corn one year, soy the next, and so on. I always see this as an extension of corporate agribusiness, but it’s hard to get offended about something like corn…then this year they announced their promotional product.

Pigs.

This year it’s “The year of the pigs”. I could instantly feel my stomach turn in anger, because I knew what was to come – a whole lot of cruelty wrapped up in the cotton candy coated pill of good ol fashioned country fair fun. And I was right.

The first headline of our major newspaper read, “Squeals of delight!” when all I could envision were all those sensitive and happy pigs packed next to each other on concrete floors, their tails unceremoniously cut off, their piglets trying to nurse in cold, wet and filthy conditions. I could only envision the reality of factory farming, of what I’ve seen with my own two eyes, and although the awareness of how livestock animals are treated in our culture is as clear as day, the paper still has the audacity to present such a cute headline.

Then the rest of the absurdity follows. The food competition this year revolves around pigs, wherein vendors create such flawed darwinian creations such as pigs in a pancake on a stick, chocolate covered bacon, and the rightfully named “garbage burger” (consisting of pulled pork on top of pork on top of who knows what else).

See….it’s all a joke. There are pig races (one of the bigger attractions every year) where the pigs where capes. There are “ham cams”. There are birthing sows where huge pigs lay trying to nurse their newborns while a non-stop stream of fairgoers oohs and aahs at the cute piglets, reaching through the metal bars to continuously torment them by removing all sense of privacy, despite the useless signs asking people to leave the pigs alone.

It’s all a JOKE.

The reality of these animals lives is nothing but an inconvenience to the perception people need to uphold in order to continue eating their bodies in the forms of unhealthy, cliche, joke food. The mental torment these animals experience. The physical pain they feel. The nauseating and overpowering smells they are subjected to every day. The blatant cruelty hoisted upon them once we turn their sentient existence inside out and view them only as “product”. The final death blow that is an ultimate insult to a life of misery.

All that is an inconvenience to the fact that we want to make a JOKE out of their place in our culture. All that is an annoyance to our need to eat crap non-food and not care about our ethical obligation to those around us.

See, if we make a JOKE out of them, then we devalue their experiences and have no more regard for their well-being. They’re just dumb animals right?

Wrong. So wrong.

And it’s this joke that makes it so much worse. I still wouldn’t take part, but I could actually stomach the presentation a little better if agribusiness and the farmers were honest about the lives of these animals. If they showed their misery. If they subjected the rest of us to the smell these animals must live in. If they showed oversized images of factory farms instead of idyllic pastoral fabrications of days long gone. If they were simply HONEST about what happens to these animals on today’s farms. But they aren’t…they lie. Blatantly. And worse, they insult the lives of these animals, as well as our own intelligence, by turning it into a charade of clever one-liners and pig noses for the kids, dressing up the misery of these animals as fair fun.

So I’m not playing that game this year. Free coupon to the fair or not, I’m not stepping through those fair gates and letting the ticket taker log me into the system as one more head to count, one more statistic to bring to advertisers for the coming years. Because that’s what fairgoers ultimately become, incentive for advertisers and reasons to continue this tradition of corporate agri-business, human stupidity and blatant animal cruelty. No matter if you spend money on a ticket or not, just being counted is what counts to the animals.

Short of all out liberatory actions (use your imagination) the easiest way to combat this cruelty posed as cultural enrichment is to simply not take part. Don’t be counted. Don’t further the idea that this sort of gathering or presentation is OK. It’s not. Don’t lend support to this form of cultural permissiveness by adding to the head count.

I know, not taking part isn’t going to cause a sea change. It isn’t going to sway the masses or bring the cruelty of the fair to its knees (the food will do that in the end…let’s hope), but ultimately, it’s the right thing to do. In alignment with our ethics and our vision of a world where animals aren’t “product”, where the well-being of their lives is taken with the seriousness we give our own, where we respect these sentient animals lives along with our own sense of self-respect, it only follows that the logical action to take is to not take part.

The charade of cruelty may go on, but in the end it won’t be on top of our individual support.

For all those awesome and beautiful pigs, Go vegan, not to the fair. Because it isn’t.

The Marathon Question

I don’t care how fast or how intermediate (notice I didn’t say slow) you plan on running a marathon, the effort is undeniably hard. I remember being told last year, “At some point the marathon is going to go south and when it does, there is no recovering from it. You just have to fight hard and keep going.” That point happened to me somewhere around mile 22 or 23 at Chicago last year and although I held off the lead legs farther than most newbies manage to do, it still felt like absolute torture to the finish line. Granted, I made it to the finish line anyways and in a shockingly fast time, but that fact doesn’t change the concern I held going into the race. That concern is quantified with a simple question. And just like last year when the question bounced around my head again and again, this year is no different. Almost every day and every workout I can’t shake The Marathon Question.

“Just HOW in the hell am I going to do this?!”

I don’t mean, “How am I going to finish all 26.2 miles?” No. I mean, “How in the hell am I going to run 26.2 miles at 5:18 per mile?” I mean, that’s my goal. My dream even. But that certainly doesn’t mean doing so is a lock. Sure, I’m putting in every bit of effort that it will take to accomplish this, all the miles, all the speedwork, eating right, doing core workouts, and whatever else it takes to run my best come race day, but that still doesn’t guarantee my body is responding as it needs to or, dare I say it, is able to. The only way to really find that out is to put it on the line race day…and hope the conditions are right.

So yes, it’s a marathon question and it’s a somewhat concerning question rooted in doubt, but to look on the bright side, this is also the very same question I posed to myself this time last year. I had initially set myself a goal of 5:45 miles for the marathon, but with some solid workouts I arbitrarily decided to go for 5:30 miles, completely unaware what that might feel like at the beginning of the race, the middle and the end. I just had no idea. However, any marathon veteran will tell you, it’s GOOD to go into a marathon race scared. It’s GOOD to go in doubting yourself to some degree, for it means you’ve set a solid goal and want it. Want it bad. You want it so bad you are almost SCARED you won’t reach it.

And if you have this question in your head far enough out from race day, it also means you are putting in the work to reach that goal. It means you are putting in all the miles and all the speed necessary, and most likely….coming up short. This is the deception of marathon training. It takes so much time and effort that your body is continuously in a state of breakdown and buildup, but never rested enough to really gauge where you might be. Sure, you can throw in some races here and there and maybe have a good showing, but until you complete that 1 to 2 week taper, you just don’t know how good, or GREAT, of shape you are in. On October 10th, maybe I’ll be in 5:25 shape or maybe 5:23 shape. Maybe I’ll be in 5:20 shape or, if all goes as planned, 5:18 shape. Hell, if all goes BETTER than planned, I might be in 5:16 shape. What I don’t want is to be any worse than all that.

Regardless, all these considerations don’t wipe away the question that continues to plague my every workout, “Just HOW in the hell am I going to do this?” It doesn’t help that the 101 heat index turns my 10 mile marathon goal pace runs into abbreviated 4 mile 5:30 pace efforts, but it also doesn’t help that the gap I have to make from last year is a full 16 seconds PER mile. That’s huge. I know it doesn’t sound huge to some people, but what you need to understand is that distance speed is like a tractor pull. The faster you get, the harder it is to cut down on seconds per mile. Going from 11 minute miles to 10 minute miles is something ENTIRELY different than going from 5:30’s to 5:20’s and so on. Hell, Tyson Gay works his ass off just to cut milliseconds from his performances. Which begs the question, “Just HOW in the hell am I going to do this?”

Right now….I don’t know. This marathon in Chicago will only be my second road marathon and I still have tons to learn about running it properly and where last year I had a pretty sizeable window of time that I would be satisfied with, this year seems like a long shot. I mean….the US Olympic Marathon Trials. Am I really going for this? Can I really do it? Do I even deserve to hold this dream?

Part of me says, “I can do this.” The other part says, “How in the hell am I going to do this?” I think both have their place, but right now the latter is the greater motivator. The former will be for the 10th when I step to the line. All I can hope for is another post-marathon question in my head, “How in the hell did I just do that?!”

Race Report – Personal Best 5 miler

Personal Best 5 mile Race Report – August 7th, 2010

Going into this race it felt like I had more stacked against me than in my favor. The biggest obstacle was overcoming the negative mental state I was harboring from the last race I ran waaaaay back in March. That race was slightly less than 5 miles and marked the absolute beginning of my forced downtime due to my confusing leg injury. That race went pretty terribly considering the shape I was in at the time. Since then it’s been a slow process of recovery and now “building a better machine” to get me back to marathon race fitness. So, this first race back since then was an open book as far as my performance might go. I’ve put in some good efforts leading up to it, but putting it all together on race day is something entirely different. The last thing I needed was another blow to my already fragile race mentality. Chicago is too close to suffer anymore mental setbacks.

With small twinges of pain in my leg on race morning, the beginnings of my last injury, I certainly wasn’t 100% toeing the start line, but knowing the competition around me, I still felt like I had a pretty good chance of placing on the “podium”. More importantly, I wanted a solid finishing time above all else. Since the race was pretty small, only a couple hundred people, I knew most everyone up front and knew what to expect. Jessie Davis, one of my training partners, was going to shoot out front and stay out front most likely. My goal was not to go after him as I’m surely explode with the effort. There were other talented runners on the line, but I knew they had been out of practice and most likely weren’t going to pose much of a challenge if I had a halfway decent day. There was one runner, however, who I knew I was going to have to compete with and my competitiveness got the best of me when we lined up side by side. His name is Brad Mason and he has turned his running game around big time this year, where last year he was nowhere near us in practice, he’s now blowing by us during our final intervals. His turnaround is inspiring, if a bit worry-inducing come race day.

The front line was almost an unbroken strip of neon yellow Athletic Annex jersey’s. The countdown ticked off and at “one!” we simultaneously leaned into the open road that carried us deceptively downhill for the first 1/2 mile. Sure enough, Jessie went blasting out ahead at a pace so quick that I couldn’t even be tricked into thinking that I could hang with him…fortunately. I let him go out and tried to maintain a solid, but controlled speed towards the first mile marker. I was aiming to hit 5:10 before dropping the pace. Then, as I expected, Brad pulled up aside of me as a clumped handful of other bright jersey’s held onto our heels. Brad and I ran stride for stride down the street and although the pace felt slightly quick, I trusted we weren’t completely over the edge.

We turned up a quick incline at 3/4’s in and the pack behind us suddenly fell off as Brad and I pushed on ahead towards the mile marker, only making or losing a stride or two of ground between us. Still pushing a solid pace, but not too worrisome we hit the first mile marker and I pushed my interval button on my watch. “4:59” it read. Ok….too fast. Too fast, but honestly, I was a bit surprised that I didn’t feel all that taxed, which was a good sign for my fitness. I only hoped it was too much for Brad to maintain. With all the good workouts he has been having, I wondered if he got too overzealous trying to prove himself this race.

We weren’t done battling however, as we moved down the road towards mile 2 he made a few strides on me as I tried to recover from our initial mile. I let him get a few strides ahead, but never felt like I was falling off. Jesse was still moving out ahead just behind the pace truck as Brad and I followed and the rest of the field continued to trail off behind us. Before we hit mile 2 I made sure to reel Brad back in and pull off his pace, but surprisingly, as I pulled up next to him he drifted 1/2 a step back, then another, then another and as we hit an incline over a bridge he fell right off. I know he doesn’t push on hills and I kept the pressure on going up the hill, but I also know he moves on the other side and, sure enough, I heard his footfalls come right up on my back as we careened down the other side of the bridge. We passed mile 2 at a 5:11 pace.

This battle was still on as we passed halfway, myself just a step or two ahead, but glad to be feeling in control and still strong in the legs. Rolling towards mile 3 I began to feel slightly fatigued, but just when we took a turn that was going to start bringing us back towards the finish I noticed that Brad was no longer on my heels. I was glad to have shaken him a bit, but was convinced he would make another move either in mile 4 or put in a crushing effort before the finish line, as he tends to do in our workouts. At mile 3 I went through in 5:15, which was a little slower than I had hoped, but didn’t surprise me much. I cursed myself for the first mile, but moved on.

Heading towards mile 4 was the low point of the race. I was by myself, fortunately away from Brad, but moving no closer to Jessie who was still pushing the pace truck further on. I was close enough to hear my coach yelling from the back of the truck, but my breathing was getting a bit erratic and I felt the strength leaving my legs as I pounded down the road. There was still concern Brad was going to make a move on me, but I figured he was as tired as I was. Just to make sure though, I kept the pressure on myself in case he was making a move. I rolled through mile 4 in 5:13, which was a relief considering it was faster than the previous mile and I had started to feel pretty beat down.

Starting off into the final mile I was fatigued, but also not completely out of it. I had told myself I wanted to run a race where I could lay into the last mile with a good effort instead of just dragging my butt to the finish line, banking on the speed I had in the first miles. I want to be able to finish most of my races with enough strength to really push into the finish, so I was pretty stoked when I willed myself to pick up the pace at the end. The effort was subtle, but just enough to really notice an increase in speed and heart rate. The final mile is somewhat uphill, but at both 800 and 400 I had enough to continue pushing forward and make an escalating reach for the line. I even noticed Jessie coming back a little bit. Admittedly, I was still waiting for Brad to come up behind me, but once I hit 400 and heard no feet behind me I was confident I had made enough of a gap to go it alone.

With just 200 left I was able to really lay into it the course and throw everything to the finish, not worrying about a blow up. I crossed the line at 25:51, caught my breath quickly and was surprised to find I was ready to keep going right into a cool down and on instead of needing to stabilize myself from the effort. I finished 20 seconds behind Jessie in second place, but placing wasn’t my greatest satisfaction this race. Being able to run strong despite going out too hard and then finish even stronger was the confidence I needed for my upcoming races and the affirmation of my fitness to this point. With a couple longer races laying ahead of me and just 2 months to Chicago, I need these successes and I need this proof that I’m back to my previous fitness level and ready to take on these quick efforts. Now….if I can just get the pacing for that first mile down, I’ll be in infinitely better shape come race day.

Final results
5 miles
25:51 (5:10 pace)
2nd place