Racing Weight

So, I've very specifically avoided talking about weight on my running blog for a few reasons:

• I know several people who got into running because they were obsessed with losing weight and staying extra-skinny. I'm not talking about folks who were like, "You know, I'd like to be fitter / more active," or "I'm not in great shape & it'd be nice to lose 5-10 pounds," or "I don't get any regular exercise now & kind of like the idea of running to maintain a healthy weight." I'm talking about people who became utterly obsessed with their weight, often fixating on an unrealistic weight, and using running as a way of getting there, often in combination with unhealthy eating habits. My running is not about that, and I don't ever want anyone to get the impression that it is.
  
• I usually don't worry too much about my weight. Between genetics, growing up active & enjoying sports, & having (reasonably) healthy eating habits, I've been fortunate enough to be able to stay at a perfectly acceptable weight (which I pretty much define as being happy with the way I look in the clothes I own) without trying too hard.
  
• Excepting people who have legitimate health problems or food issues, I think there is WAAAAAY too much focus on weight in this country as it is (especially for women), and there is really no bigger turn-off for me when it comes to running / healthy living blogs than hearing about people's weight loss / gain issues all the time. (Just to be clear, I'm not talking about blogs like Barb's column "Downsizing" on Digital Running Club, which I have enjoyed the hell of and has made me so happy to read over the last few months. I think that if you read her monthly entries for this year, you'll understand how that is a completely different sort of thing.)
  
• All though I've never had major body image or food issues, I can admit that there have been times in my own life when I've been a lot more concerned with how much I weigh than I am now (hello, competitive track & gymnastics...), and I really like that my attitude these days is much more about feeling fit, strong, & fast & weighing myself maybe once a month than it is about chasing some magic number on a scale.
  

On the other hand, I don't want these facts to make me feel like discussing weight on my blog is somehow taboo. (Organizational management fact: If you want to understand where an organization needs to work on its culture, look at the issues people avoid talking about.) I think there are healthy and appropriate ways to talk about weight on a running blog, so I'm going to do that.

Fact #1: As Matt Fitzgerald puts it in his book Racing Weight, by and large, we recreational athletes, though fitter than the general population, are not at our optimal performance weights all (or even most) of the time. If we were to take six months and get ourselves into the shape necessary to run our best race possible, then weigh ourselves, the scale would almost universally show a number lower than the one we currently see.

There are lots of reasons for that. Most of us don't have the time or resources to get into or stay in that kind of shape. Most of us miss a workout every now & then. Most of us really like cheese (or chocolate, or bread pudding, or whatever your particular soul-nourishing indulgence may be). I think I've mentioned before how I'm pretty sure I could get back down to my high school racing weight if I really, really wanted to, but I did the math and realized that the things I'd have to give up would make me too unhappy to be willing to make the tradeoff. I'm not saying that I think I'm fat or out of shape or that my current weight is an unhealthy one; just that, if I weighed a little less, I'd be a little faster.

Fact #2: Yes, there are tradeoffs I'm not willing to make. I'm not going to stop eating deep-dish pizza. Or mission burritos. Or ham & cheese croissants. Or drinking fancy wine / beer / cocktails. I'm just not. But if I'm honest with myself, I know that my eating habits lately have kind of been out of control, and I've been using my ramped-up mileage to justify it. I'm not going to stop eating deep-dish pizza, but truly; one slice is a MORE than adequate dinner. I'm not going to stop eating artisan cheeses, but no one needs a pound of it in one evening. I'm not going to stop drinking wine with dinner, but two glasses should really be adequate. For the most part, it's not what I've been eating; it's how much. The little-kid part of my brain still feels deprived if at any point a specific amount of something is declared "all you can have," even if that amount is quite generous, and when I'm under more stress (as I have been lately), the grown up part of my brain has more trouble beating it down.

But it can. And it needs to. And I just need to work harder at it. When you've been running 40-50 miles a week (in addition to 3.5 hours of martial arts) and still managed to gain six pounds in a month, that's a little bit of a red flag.

Recap of Facts #1 & #2: Although I certainly don't think I'm overweight, I weigh more than I would like to going into an "A" race, and my Clarksburg half marathon goal of breaking 1:40 would be made significantly easier by dropping some number of pounds.

Fact #3: When you're an athlete and already in pretty good shape (by non-athlete standards), it's hard to get support from people around you for eating better / less in order to lose weight. I get that; when someone looks to you like they're in good shape (and can already run faster and farther than they'd ever dream of running), it's hard to understand why they feel any need to weigh less.

Or how they could weigh less. A month ago, I ran a 44:42 10K to win my age group (and finished feeling like I probably could've run harder & shaved ~12 seconds off that time) & weighed around 132. That's what 5'4" & 132 pounds looks like, to the right, there. To give you an idea of where those numbers lie on the spectrum of "underweight" to "overweight," that's a BMI of 22.7 (where less than 18.5 is underweight and more than 25 is overweight -- admittedly, there are some real problems with the whole BMI concept, but I'm average enough in terms of build and body composition that it's probably reasonably functional for these purposes). I mentioned casually to a friend that I would really love to weigh about 10 pounds less going into Clarksburg. His reaction: Raised eyebrows, and "I don't know where you have 10 pounds to lose."

I didn't pursue the conversation. (I mean, what's there to gain, really?) But realistically, I do know where those 10 pounds are. 122 pounds would put me at 20.9, certainly still in a completely normal range; when I was in high school (and eating like a horse), I was pretty much the same height and normally weighed around 115 (19.7 BMI) and no one thought that I was underweight. Realistically, I think it's probably that 10 pounds just isn't as much weight as most people think it is, and if I did lose 10 pounds, my friend might not even notice.

Upshot: I think that in the past few months, I haven't been letting myself own the fact that, gosh darnit, I want to lose some unnecessary weight going into Clarksburg. I certainly have it to lose, and I know it will improve my time. I haven't been owning it because I've been worried about what people will think and say about my turning down extra helpings of amazing food or only having a little bit of tasty dessert (skipping dessert completely is beyond the realm of things I'm willing to do). And because not owning it is easier than getting a handle on my stress & dealing with it in ways that don't involve letting my little-kid self take control of what I eat. I need to get more comfortable saying, "Look, this is my goal, I want it enough to make this decision, and it's not about food issues or anything unhealthy, so please just drop it."

I'm hoping that putting it in writing will help me own it a little more. I'm purposefully not attaching a number (eg, "I will lose xx pounds by Nov. 13.") because I honestly don't know what a reasonable number would even be. My goal is more, "Eat like a reasonable person, plan your meals ahead of time, eat less, drink less, and go back to eating your fruits & veggies first," because honestly, I know what that means, and if I do it, there's no way I won't lose at least a few pounds.

So, yeah. I hope my discussing weight loss in relation to running isn't a turn-off for anyone, and that all of that makes some sense.

Is weight something you think about with respect to running? Or just in general? Do you avoid discussing it with non-athletic friends? I'm curious about how other recreational runners deal with this issue.

Week In Review: Oct 3 - Oct 9

This is my weekly training journal. Including it in the blog gives me a little extra accountability in the mileage department & helps me stick to my schedule. :)

5 Weeks [1 month & 1 week] to Clarksburg Half Marathon

8 Weeks [2 months-ish] to Cal International Marathon


EEK! Somehow translating weeks into months is not having the calming effect I had hoped it would.

Sigh. So this has been kind of a bummer of a week.

Monday: So I decided to take Monday (at least) off after my 16 mile long run the day before. I also finally got around to seeing a chiropractor (which my PTs and a couple of massage people have recommended, given my injury history). A friend of mine loves hers & recommended him, and he was fantastic. Friendly, confidence-inspiring, and not overly-enthusiastic about all the bone cracking. He did a few simple adjustments (one on my right ankle to loosen it up, a couple to re-align my pelvis, and one for the middle of my back), plus a good bit of soft tissue massage & passive stretching. That was all pretty awesome.

Tuesday: 8 miles (2 wu + 8 x 800 a la Yasso 800's) This was the first downer moment of the week. The run itself would've been awesome if it hadn't been for this. You can read about it if you haven't already. I'm still pissed as hell.

As for the actual workout, I went into this one pretty conservatively & not actually sure I'd be able to do any fast running at all, given the tendonitis in my left leg and the pull/strain/tweak/whatever in my right calf. Still, I figured I might as well warm up, try one 800, and if that went well, just keep doing them until I felt like I shouldn't. Thankfully, the pain stayed pretty low-grade (it was actually less bad running fast than it has been walking or running slower) so I was able to do them all without a problem.

I decided to kind-of-sort-of try doing them as if they were Yassos. I'm sure most of you know but if not, distance runner folk knowledge says that if you can run, say, 10-12 800 repeats in x:xx each (minutes & seconds), then you're about in shape to run a x:xx marathon (hours & minutes). From what I've heard & read, it seems to be a startlingly accurate predictor. I wasn't really doing Yassos because I was only planning on 8, but I figured that how hard / easy they were would at least give me a reasonable idea of where I am right now and whether my very tentative, completely casual, not-really-that-wedded-to-at-all goal of 3:30 seems reasonable.

I ran the first two in 3:29 & 3:27 respectively; that felt pretty easy, so I decided I'd try to stick with around that effort level for the first 4-5, and then, if I still felt good, see if I could speed up the last few. All told: 3:29, 3:27, 3:27, 3:27, 3:26, 3:25, 3:17, 3:21.

Not bad, eh? :D Of course, you never know until you try, but even after the last one, I really felt like I could have run a few more at the same pace without a problem. If Bart Yasso is to be trusted, and if I can get my stamina game in the right place, 3:30 may not be so unreasonable after all.

Wednesday: 7 miles easy Rest / karate. My tendonitis & the spot on my right calf had been bothering me for most of the day, so I decided I'd attempt my 7 miles, and if I could only do 5, or 3, or 1, then that was okay. Alas, it only took me about a quarter of a mile to realize that trying to run today at all was not a smart idea. My initial guess was that it was the combined effects of the 16 miler Sunday (remember, my longest run in a VERY long while) and a pretty intense, fast speed workout less than two days later.

Thursday: 10 miles (2 wu + 8 @ MP pace) 1 mile easy. I decided to just try an easy run today given the pain I had yesterday. Unfortunately I only got about a mile. The tendonitis leg wasn't too bad, but the pain in my right calf was worse. In the ten minutes after I stopped running and came back home, it got even worse (you know that throbby-sort-of pain?), which kind of worried me.

I didn't bother trying to do any running for the rest of the week. Every morning I woke up with pretty bad pain in that calf muscle, in spite of having done no running at all since Tuesday. Even walking has been irritating it, so I've been trying to stay off of it as much as possible.

Saturday: On Saturday, I was super pumped about meeting up with a bunch of other Bay Area running (& other stuff) bloggers organized by Courtney at Pancakes & Postcards. Don & I were planning to head down to Stanford around 2:00 to get a bit of tailgating in before the game, so I figured I'd try to get to the meet up around noon, hang out for an hour or so, then come back home to get ready for the game. Alas, it was Fleet Week, and our meet up was at the Sports Basement in the Presidio. This was bad because a bunch of roads were blocked off, including the two easiest ways of getting to SB. After driving aimlessly around the Presidio for a while, I finally I called SB to see how they recommended I get there. They said there was really only one way, but that traffic was really bad. I decided to give it a shot, just to see. When it was nearing 1:00 & things were still barely moving, I finally admitted defeat & began the equally slow trek back home. Given what a crappy (no) running week I'd already had, this bummed me out extra hard. Sorry, guys! :(

Sunday: On Sunday I tried to force myself not to mope by doing all my strength training & stretching, which I had not been doing this week, because I was moping. (Did I mention stuffing my face with pumpkin bread? Just checking.)

But today (Monday 10/10), a light at the end of the tunnel. I had a follow-up appointment with the chiropractor, who suggested that the pain in my right calf could have been exacerbated by the adjustment he did to loosen up my ankle. It could be that having a greater range of motion than I'm used to has caused those muscles to have to work harder (even just walking). It's feeling a little better today, so I'm going to try a few easy miles (nothing crazy) & see how that goes.

Grand Total: 9 miles

But not for lack of trying. On the positive side, five days off seems to have taken care of the tendonitis in my left leg, and it's also given my legs a little break from the ever-present shin splints. (My orthotics come in on Thursday, so SUUUUUPER pumped about that.)

Here's to a less crappy week! Hopefully yours has been better than mine. :P

The Long Run, Part 2: The Mental

Ugh. So it's day five of no running for me. I've had some pretty exquisite pain in the lateral parts of my calf muscles that a) makes even walking pretty painful and b) is not getting any better, even after many days of rest. It's frustrating because I don't know what's wrong or what to do (other than nothing) to fix it. But anyway, more on that later.

A few weeks ago, I posted about the physical benefits of long runs, even for folks who race shorter distances like 5K or 10K or whose main sport isn't even running. I also promised posts on the mental & logistical benefits, which have sadly been shunted aside again and again for other things. Too long!

We all know that weekly or bi-weekly long runs (whatever long means to you at a given time) make us stronger and help us develop physical endurance. Long runs do a lot more for us than that, though! Distance running has a huge mental component to it, and just like our bones, muscles, and cardiovascular systems, our minds need consistent, progressive training to help us be the best runners we can be. In terms of my mental game, here's what long runs have given me:

Mental toughness. To quote Tim Noakes: “In each race, a point is reached at which it becomes necessary to face the mental challenges posed by self-talk and to develop mental strategies to cope, regardless of whether you are finishing first or last in the race.” And Jacqueline Gareau (1980 Boston Marathon champ), “The body does not want you to do this. As you run, it tells you to stop but the mind must be strong. You always go too far for your body. You must handle the pain with strategy.” Long runs (and other types of runs, too) give me the opportunity to work out and practice my own strategies for how I'll convince myself to keep running when the only thing I want in the whole world is to stop.

Focus & concentration. Unfortunately, running is not a three-ring circus all the time. For me, this isn't an issue in a 5K or 10K because it's over too fast. Even with a half marathon, starting line adrenaline is usually enough to get me to mile seven or so, and the finish line adrenaline sets in not too long after that. Longer runs than that can turn into a bit of a slog, though. Once the starting line adrenaline starts to wear off and the monotony starts to set in, it's tempting to let your mind wander and dissociate from your body. (I have recently learned that some people actively work at doing this in order to minimize the physical discomfort of distance running. I won't pretend to understand this.) When my focus starts to drift, my form, stride, breathing,etc. immediately start to suffer. For me, keeping those things solid requires serious concentration. Just like maintaining a challenging pace for a long time, learning to stay mentally focused on your body and the details of your running for multiple hours is hard work, and takes practice and experience to develop.

Body experience. One of the most fascinating things to me about running is the different ways that your body responds after running for certain amounts of time, especially as you reach multiple hours. Long runs give you the chance to feel what your body does after one, one and a half, two-plus hours of running so that when you reach those points in your race, you aren't surprised. I've written before about how expectations are everything, and knowing what to expect in terms of your body's responses makes all the difference in the world.

Confidence. When I was in high school, the thought of running double-digit miles was freaking INSANE to me. How did people do that? And WHY would people do that? To me, it was an absolutely insurmountable feat. I actually think I probably did have the endurance then to run 10 miles if I had to (though probably not with any real speed), but I didn't believe that I could. Several years later when I ran my first half-marathon, I was probably actually in worse shape than I had been in high school, but thanks to several ten mile training runs (the longest I did), I went into the race with the confidence that I could finish (which was my only goal). After ten miles, three more seemed like nothing. (Alright; in the actual race, it seemed a lot less like nothing, but I never felt as if I couldn't finish.)

I realized after writing these down that I've pretty much stuck to things that are relevant to racing & trying to reach a certain goal, because that's my motivation for running. People run for all sorts of other reasons, though, which may give rise to completely different mental benefits. What other mental benefits do you get out of your long runs?

Next up: the logistical benefits of the long run!

Kind of a Real Post. Sort of. Not Really.

I am writing a post today not because I have anything interesting to talk about, but because I am frustrated & looking to take out my frustration on someone/thing. Currently the closest one/thing is the internet so there you are.

I had a great week of running last week, and even a great (well, mostly) Tuesday track run this week. But since then, I haven't been able to run at all. Not even a little bit. Not shin splints this time; no, this time there is this tiny spot on the upper, outside part of my calf muscle that hurts like a BITCH when I put any pressure on the ball of my foot at all. Like, walking to & from my job five blocks from home today was extremely unpleasant. Before you ask, I am not limping, as there is no way to limp that avoids the pain.



The pain goes away as soon as I take pressure off my foot. It's worse with running (I tried running a little on both Wednesday and Thursday and only got about a quarter mile and one mile respectively before I knew it was officially a Bad Idea), and was worse for the ten minutes or so following each brief attempt at running. I've never had this kind of problem before, so I'm a little at a loss. Of course I have been googling "calf pain gastrocnemius running" & attempting to self-diagnose myself like any self-respecting denizen of the 21st century, but so far nothing sounds right. There was no "injury event" or specific point in time where the pain started or where I felt or heard anything weird. The pain is bad, but not excruciating, and present even when I'm just walking, which seems to eliminate most of the usual suspects. The only thing I can think of that even remotely makes sense is that it's just a very minor calf strain (apparently pronation is a common cause, so there's that).

There is a certain type of pain (I'm sure you know it) that, even if it's not terribly severe, is like a red flag to runners. Something that lets you know in no uncertain terms that whatever's wrong isn't a big deal now, but if you push it, it's likely to become one. So, for the time being, I'm trying to stay off of it as much as I can and hoping that a few days of complete rest (no running or karate & minimal walking) will let it heal, instead of continuing to try to run, even a little, & having it drag out for weeks (or become something more serious). As you can imagine, this is more than a little maddening.

That is all. I am off to stuff my face with this



which I made last night during the time when I normally would have been running. Which is of course exactly what you should do when you can't run for some reason. Obviously.

The Most Disturbing Thing I've Ever Seen at the Track. Period.

This is probably the most serious post I've ever written. I'm still a bit shaken, not to mention sick to my stomach, as I'm writing it.

Tuesdays are speed days for me so I went out to Kezar Stadium to run 8 x 800s. I had a really fantastic workout in spite of only taking one day off after my epic 16 miler and a few lingering pains here & there. All of that seems totally irrelevant, though, next to what I had to watch and listen to while I did it.

In spite of the overcast & drizzly weather, there were a reasonable number of other folks out on the track. About halfway through my two-mile warm up, I kept thinking I could hear someone crying. When I stopped for my dynamic warm-up, I realized where the crying was coming from. A little girl, maybe nine or ten, was jogging down the straightaway towards me with her dad. She was the one crying. And I don't mean kind of weeping a little; outright sobbing.

Here's what I heard as they approached and passed:

Dad: "What's the perimeter?"
Girl (through choked sobs): "The perimeter--the perimeter is--it's the outside...the outside of something."
Dad (angrily): "No."
Girl: "I don't remember!"
Dad: "It's the same thing I told you the last time around. The perimeter is the shortest distance around the outside of a shape. You find it by adding up the total lengths of the sides."
Girl: (more choked sobs)
Dad: "Now. What's the perimeter?"
Girl: "The perimeter--the perimeter--is the distance around the shape..."
Dad: "No. I guess we're going to run some more."
Girl (racked with sobs): "Nooo..."
Dad: "We're going to run until you get it right."

I listened to variations on this conversation for literally half my workout.

"Now. What's the perimeter?"
"It's--it's how far around the outside..."
"Are you sure? Maybe we need to run another lap."
(still sobbing) "Nooo...I can't...I can't run anymore..."
"Then you better get it right."

I must have watched them run at least eight laps this way, and they were out there running when I arrived. I could hear her crying even from the opposite side of the track, and it made my skin crawl.

"Alright. What's the perimeter?"
"The perimeter is the distance--it's how far on the outsides--"
"Nope. Guess we're going to keep running."
(sobbing) "No, please! Please let me stop!"
"We can stop any time you want. All you have to do is get it right."

After twenty minutes or so of this they moved onto the infield and started jogging laps around the football field.

"What's area?"
(Again, through choked sobs.) "How much is inside. Can we stop now?"
"Not until you get it right. Area is the amount of space contained within a figure. You find it by multiplying the base times the height. What's area?"
"Area is the--it's how much space is inside."
"No. Guess we're going to run some more."
(More abject sobbing)

Later when she started to fall behind...

"You better run, girl, or we're going to be out here even longer."

And after that, still running...

"I guess you better study hard next time, huh? And if you don't, then guess what? We're going to come back out to the track and run in the rain some more. Won't that be fun?"

Finally--finally--they stopped running. The girl followed her dad out of the stadium, limping, still sobbing near-hysterically. As they left...

"This isn't going to get any easier, you know. Do you think I'm always going to be there to help you with everything?"

I'm still at a loss about the whole situation. Partly because this man (who is clearly the biggest ass-wipe / leading candidate for Dick-Father of the Year on the planet) somehow managed to take two of my greatest loves, math and running, and turn them into some horrific two-pronged instrument of torture (and probably cause his daughter to develop a life-long hatred of both). Partly because he may have been causing her physical harm in addition to what seems like a pretty hefty dose of psychological & emotional harm. Partly because I didn't know what to say or do about the situation while it was happening, or what I should do, or could do. I don't even know who they were. I kind of felt sick to my stomach throughout most of what should've been a really fantastic run. I have a vague memory of seeing a father & daughter of a similar age running on the track together in the past, which makes me wonder if this is a regular thing.

What would you do? How far can you go in terms of confronting parents about the way they're (mis)treating their children, particularly when you don't have any parenting experience? Is this abuse? Is there even the slightest possibility that I've somehow misunderstood / misinterpreted the whole situation?

I need a drink.

The Last 16

Perhaps the most notable feature of the [Hanson-Brooks marathon plan] is the absence of a sacred cow—the 20-plus-mile long run. For non-elite runners, the long effort tops out at 16 miles. "People say, 'How can a long run be only 16 miles?'" says Kevin [Hanson]. "Then they'll finish that run and say, 'Gosh, I don't think I could run another 10 miles.'" And they'll be right, he says. With the plan's emphasis on high mileage and hard workouts, "you're not running the first 16 miles of a marathon, you're running the last 16. We're duplicating that final-miles feeling."

You've sold me, Kev.

Yesterday was my first 16 miler (this training cylce, this year, and in recent memory; I can't tell you when the last time I ran 16 miles was because it was too long ago to remember). It came at the end of a six-run, 54 mile week, and the day after running 11 miles with 6 of them at half marathon pace.

I won't lie to you. I went to bed last night with tired, achey legs (the tweaky tendon in my left leg and pulled/strained spot in my right calf didn't help) and woke up with tired, achey, stiff ones. My first thought: "There's no way in hell I can run sixteen miles today. It's just not happening." Actually, that was my second, third, and fourth thought as well. (Honestly, this really wasn't me being dramatic or wimpy; I couldn't walk normally, and I was legitimately worried about making the tendon and/or calf issues worse.)

I'll spare you all the internal drama & negotiating (there was a lot of it); in the end, I decided I'd get dressed, head over to Golden Gate Park, and see if there was any hope of my getting any running at all done today. On the off chance that I was able to get in the whole 16 miles, I stopped at Safeway for Nutri-Grain Bars and Gatorade. Gatorade because, out of all the sports drinks I've had over the years, there's only one that makes me absolutely chunk-blowingly ill, and guess what they'll be serving on the course at CIM? :P So, I'm resigned to carrying my own sports drink with me & just drinking water on the course & figured I should get some practice with that. Nutri-Grain bars because I'm still experimenting with fueling, and actual food packs a lot more calories than those little packets of ectoplasm. I haven't had any digestive issues with those, so the next step seemed to be to try solid food & see what happened.



Flavors of the Week: Hammer Gel Montana Huckleberry & Tropical. MUCH less disgusting than the two berry-flavored Gu's I tried out a couple of weeks ago. Now these, I can get behind.

Golden Gate Park & the Panhandle together make a pretty nice eight-mile loop. That way I figured that if I was really suffering getting close to eight, I could stop then. (I did not have a great plan for what to do if this happened after four or twelve miles, but couldn't face the idea of four, four-mile loops so there it is.) This also made things a little logistically easier; I could carry one gel with me to have at mile four, then when I got back to the car, refill my Gatorade bottle, grab a Nutri-Grain bar for mile eight, and another gel for mile twelve.



Normally I'd run all the way down JFK or MLK & then go back along the other, but this weekend was Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, a giant free music festival in part of the park, so the western end of JFK was SUPER crowded (not to mention full of crying children, dogs on thirty-foot leashes, & pot, all of which I am allergic to in varying degrees).

But sweet baby Jesus.

Less than a mile in, and all I could think was, "This is going to suuuUUUUuuck..." Not because of the pain in my tendon or calf, which stayed fairly low-grade the whole time, but just because I felt so beaten up already, and my legs felt like lead. I think the only way I got through it was by telling myself a) you can stop whenever you want, b) you can take walk / rest breaks whenever you want, and c) you can run at whatever pace you feel like. Just get in as much mileage as you can without breaking.

Which brings to mind another quote from the Hanson-Brooks article:

"Everyone wanted a regimen that would leave their legs feeling fresh," says Kevin. "They wanted to know, 'How can I get that spring in my legs?' That was the wrong question. The question should be: 'How can I train my body so that when the fatigue hits me, I'm still able to respond?'"

Yeah; this was that kind of run. 'Fatigue' was the name of the game from mile one.

While it wasn't at all what I'd call fun or pleasant, though, I have to admit that I was bracing for it to be a lot worse. The first four miles were tough. The second four (the way back to the car, mostly uphill) were probably the toughest. The first four of lap two actually weren't bad at all; around mile ten I was actually feeling pretty optimistic, and I knew at that point that I would make it to sixteen without a problem. The last four miles (uphill again) were hard, but I was prepared for it mentally & just kept reminding myself of how great I was doing considering how I'd felt that morning. (Don't get me wrong -- I'm not saying I wasn't INCREDIBLY overjoyed to hear that last beep, or that I didn't feel immediately sore and achy in about a million spots as soon as I stopped running.)

Although it didn't feel like it most of the time, I was encouraged by the fact that I was able to keep an average 9:04 / mile pace (with wind in one direction & uphill the other), which is in line with my other easy runs. Also, very little shin splint trouble, and no digestive issues with either the Hammer gels or the Nutri-Grain bar (although the next time I do Nutri-Grains I'll break the bar up into smaller pieces -- eating the whole thing at once gave me just the tiniest bit of reflux). All things considered, I don't have much to complain about.

Just a few small issues:

• My left posterior tibial tendon is clearly swollen and quite painful. Based on what I've read on the Inturwebz, posterior tibial tendonitis is pretty common in over-pronators (same as the MTSS), so I'm hoping this is just a bit of minor inflammation & the custom orthotics will take care of it as long as I don't overdo it between now & then.
  
• A spot on my right calf that's been perpetually sore. Not so sore I can't run on it, but it hurts, and ice / massage doesn't seem to do much.
  
• Weirdest of all, there's now a small spot (maybe two inches in diameter) on the side of my right thigh (in the ITB area, I think) that feels almost as if I've been kicked there, or rammed my leg into something really hard. Based on the way it feels, I keep expecting to see a dark purple bruise, but I didn't do anything to it today (except, y'know, run 16 miles on it).
  

Phew. So I'm totally bought into this cumulative fatigue business; the current issue I'm having is the age-old problem of the engine outpacing the chassis in terms of fitness. My cardiovascular system is dealing fine; in that sense, this was actually a super easy run. It was my musculoskeletal system that struggled. As much as I'd love to tick off seven miles today and my speed workout on Tuesday, I feel like I'm in the orange zone with a couple of those bullet points up there and am more inclined to take a few days and let everything heal up.

Oh, and HUGE congrats to everyone who ran Rock & Roll San Jose yesterday, especially all you folks that PR'd! ROCK STARS! You make me that much more giddy about racing a half again. Can't wait to read about your races! :)

Week In Review: Sept 26 - Oct 2

This is my weekly training journal. Including it in the blog gives me a little extra accountability in the mileage department & helps me stick to my schedule. :)

6 Weeks to Clarksburg Half Marathon

9 Weeks to Cal International Marathon

If you are running either of those races, do those numbers seem to be getting just a tad small to you? I seemed to recall giving myself a few good, solid months to get battle ready. Those months now appear to be evaporating before my very eyes.

I now realize my mistake. I should've been counting in months all along, not weeks. Everything sounds farther away in months. I mean, 52 weeks is hardly any time at all. But twelve whole months...that's all the time in the world.

Ahem: 1 & 1/2 months until Clarksburg; 2 months & a week until CIM.

Much better.

This was my first 50+ mile week, though it ended up being just slightly more mileage than I'd planned. I ran six days this week. Just barely, but I did it. I know better than to expect I'll be able to have weeks like these every week, but it did feel very good to get it done.

Monday: 6 miles easy. One of the problems with my easy runs is that, in a certain way, going easy makes it harder. Like I'm trudging along in slow-motion, tethered to the ground via the almost-visceral tentacles of gravity. Each foot is on the ground for an eternity. The scenery takes forever to change. Even going just 15-20 seconds faster feels so much better! My feet feel light & my legs feel springy...even better, I have a LOT less shin splint pain. So, even though I guess technically my 'easy' pace should be somewhere in the 9:00-9:10 range, I've been doing some of these closer to 8:40-45ish, and so what? For all that I adore my Garmin, I'm finding that on easy runs where I don't have to worry about keeping up a certain pace, I do pretty well ignoring it and mainly going by effort -- ie, keeping up a good pace, but not breathing hard (excepting for hills, and even then I dial it back a good bit). So this was a good run, if on the quick side.

Tuesday: 6.25 miles (2.25 wu + 4 x 1600 @ 10Kish pace) Originally I'd planned 600 m of active recovery between each 1600, but it was HOT out there (ie, like 75°) and I kind of felt more like chillin in the shade for 4-5 minutes in between reps instead, thankyouverymuch. Given the heat (and ever-present backstretch headwind, "Carl"), I gave myself about 10 seconds' leeway on the pace; I figured as long as I was under 7:20 and they stayed more or less around the same pace I was good.

Continuing the week's theme of downplaying reliance on the Garmin, however, the damned thing decided to die about 20 seconds after I turned it on. (Okay, I mayormaynot have forgotten to put it on the charger two days in a row...). Fortunately, the spontaneous Garmin dying / refusing to turn on lesson is one I have longsince learned and prepared for. I busted out my old-school sports watch and headed for lane one. The one problem with Garmin-less speed workouts is that I constantly worry that I'm not keeping up my pace, so I over-compensate by running too hard. Realistically I was shooting for 7:15-20 / mile, & ended up with 7:15 / 7:12 / 7:06 (!) / 7:09 for splits. Oops.

Thursday: 10 miles (2 wu + 8 @ MP) As I said last week, and will probably say again next week (and, let's face it, most likely every week between now and CIM), marathon pace runs are a BITCH. I can't for the life of me figure out why, given how easy HMP runs are, and how great my random 8.5 miles at only slightly slower than MP were last Saturday. I think part of it is that I just don't have a great handle yet on how hard I can exert myself for 26 miles. Running at slightly sub-8:00 / mile for eight miles in & of itself isn't really an issue; it's more that the emotional part of my brain just really doesn't want to let my body work that hard, because it's afraid of the idea of having to do that for 3-4 hours. In a way, I think my brain is trying to scare me into adopting a slightly slower marathon pace (which, who knows, could be a good idea. It's not like I'm a freaking pro at this or anything). Anyway, I came in at 7:58 / mile & 176 bpm, about the same as last week.

I am kind of curious as to how the difficulty of the terrain in Golden Gate Park (where I've been doing these runs) compares with that of the CIM course. Both have hills, but from what I hear CIM is mostly short rollers, whereas GGP is more sustained gradual uphills & downhills for half a mile to a mile at a time, with a few more dramatic spots. Those long uphill stretches really wear me down, so I'm wondering how that will compare to the toll the rollers will take on me in Sacramento.

(Also, let's be real for a minute -- if there is wind, I am effed. That is all.)

Friday: 5 miles easy. I think I'm kind of starting to reach that whole "cumulative fatigue" state that the Hanson brothers described regarding this training plan. These were the five hardest "easy" miles I've run in a while -- my legs still felt pretty trashed from Thursday, so I really took this run very, very easy. And even then I was counting down to the end of it by tenths of miles. (It actually would've been a little less bad if I hadn't tweaked a muscle in my right calf -- nothing too horrible, I don't think, but bad enough to bother me the whole time.)

Saturday: 8 miles (2 wu + 6 @ HMP) 11 miles (3 easy + 6 @ HMP + 2 easy) I'm not really sure if this was a great idea or not. The original plan was to drive to the track, warm up with two easy miles, then do my six mile HMP run. However, Don & I ended up spending most of the afternoon at a Scotch tasting & didn't get back home until around 6:30. I was lucky to find parking in my neighborhood at all that late on a Saturday and just couldn't face the prospect of getting back home around eight and driving around for an hour trying to re-park (a distinct possibility on a weekend); this meant I either needed to swap my Saturday & Sunday runs & do the 16 mile long run today (which I wasn't really prepared for, especially post-Scotch tasting), or get to the track in some other way.

I decided to walk / jog the 3.5 miles to the track, do my HMP run, & walk / jog back. This amounted to 3 very slow miles on the way there (I walked all the hills) & 2 equally slow miles on the way back (I walked the first 1.5 miles on the way back to recover). The HMP run felt tough for the first three miles but easier for the second three. I ended up averaging 7:35 / mile & 184 bpm. For all that it's not what I'd call a pleasant pace to maintain, I feel pretty confident now that I am at least physically *capable* of doing it for 13 miles, if I can force myself through it mentally. I think that'll be the real battle come race day.

Sunday: 16 miles easy. Done and done. This one gets its own post -- you can read all about it here (or, y'know, just scroll down).

Grand Total: 54.25 miles

I wish I could say with conviction that I'm honestly capable of consistently running six high-mileage days per week, but it just isn't the case. I still want to stay in the 45-50 range this week if I can, but after this weekend, I really need a couple of rest days to make sure I'm recovered & strong enough to stay safe.