Yesterday & Today

Yesterday:  I ran 8, 1/4 mile repeats on the treadmill at 6:56/mile with walking break between them.  I felt pretty good.  I felt strong enough to run two of the repeats back-to-back as a 1/2 mile repeat.  (A good song came on and I felt inspired.)  I finished the nearly 3 mile workout and then did some squats,  walking lunges and core strengthening.  My coach told me that next month's workout schedule will have a lot of leg weight lifting in it, and core work as well, and I wanted to get the jump on it.  My legs are sore today.  And my ass.  

Today:  A 7 mile easy run that I did in the sprinkling rain.  I ran it in 56:44 and averaged 8:05/mile and 147 bpm heart rate.  I don't know why I felt strong today, it defies logic really when you consider how sore my legs are after yesterday's workout.  I didn't question it too much but instead picked up the pace since I was feeling good.  Tomorrow's a rest day, saturday too, since I perform saturday night.  Sunday, it's a 16 mile trail run.  Wish me luck.

Nothing Negative About That Split

On such a historic day, filled with excitement, trepidation, and expectations, with the world watching the U.S.,  I feel rather idiotic writing how my 5 mile negative split run.  I'm not a good enough writer to capture what a moment this morning was.  Nor am I in the slight bit embarrassed when I confess that watching our 44th President take the Oath of Office, I shed more than a few tears.  

Moving on.

Perhaps it was the morning's celebrations, maybe I just got some much needed rest, or perhaps it was because I finally ponied up the dough for the Big Sur Marathon,  but I felt fresh as a daisy out there today.  It looked like this: 

5.01 miles

Lap 1:  19:59  Av:  7:59/mi  264 calories burned

Lap 2:  18:52 Av:  7:33/mi  270 calories burned 

Delusional

So the other day I emailed my online running coach about a 50K that I found out here, being run in mountains in March.  A 50K.  In March.  That's about 31 miles... and I was thinking, "yeah, I could do that".  Sure, it would be something big to tackle, but I've never shied away from a challenge.  My coach reminded me that I basically had 5 weeks to get ready for it, and that in that time, my long run would be going from 16 miles to a 25 miler 2 weeks before the event.  I mulled that information over in my brain a few days and was still feeling like it could happen.

And then the funny part of the story comes.

On sunday I ran my 10 Mile Time Trial.  It was not pretty.  In fact, it was the kind of run where you swear that  you're smoking a pack of Camels in your sleep, or you're running with corn syrup in your lungs, or that you're running in water...  well, you get the idea.  

I felt like complete and utter SHIT.  I was less than one mile into it when I knew I just didn't have it.  Not only did I not have it, I felt like I never had it to begin with.  I was suckin' wind, my eyes were watering from something in the air and felt like they were gonna pop out of my skull. Sometimes I'll go on a run, and feel like crap, only to warm up, and end up having a good, (sometimes great) run.  Sunday, was not like that.  

31 miles in 5 weeks?  It would actually be funny if it wasn't so sad...

Posting... finally

It's a been a few days since I posted anything.  I had an easy 5 mile run on thursday which I did on the treadmill at the gym.  I finished that workout with a few weights, then friday I did weights as well.  Today I was supposed to run a 10 mile time trial, but because I perform tonight, I'm pushing it until tomorrow morning.  I squeeze it in before watching football.

Slow Death

Yup, that's the name of today's workout.  1/2 mile warm up, then 1 minute VERY hard, 1 minute recovery, 10 times.  I did it first thing this morning, right outta the gate, on a treadmill at the gym.  I gotta tell ya, it felt pretty good.  I was running the repeats @ 6"18/mile and when I finished I felt like I could've/should've been running them faster.  Ah well, there's always next time, right?

Runnin' With ZZ Top

"New (shorts), new shoes, and I don't know where I am going to..."

You remember that song by the bearded boys back in the 80's? That pretty much summed up my long run yesterday.  I decided to run something new yesterday, in a new pair of running shorts and new trail shoes.   I consulted my trail running book, picked a new trail to run, and I was off. 

Things didn't start very well for me.  Upon turning on my gps enabled running watch at the trail head, I was warned that the battery was low.  Frustrating, "but really", I thought, "how low could it be?" I had just charged it days earlier.  Turns out, it could be, and was, very low.  It was so low in fact, that  it couldn't find any satellites and died within the first 1/4 mile of my run.  "Well screw it", I thought.  I tried to focus on the relaxing aspect of not being tethered to an electronic device telling me all about how slow I was running, how my heart rate was sky rocketing, and how the incline was killing me.  I put a positive spin on it, and kept on running.

The trail, yeah, let's get into that a little... it was kind of brutal.  It let me warm up for like 1/2 a mile, (I guess) and then it had a pretty steep grade going up hill.  It had dirt steps, for God's sake!  I had written some notes down on  piece of paper, telling me where to turn at which mile, landmarks at mile whatever, things like that.  Well, when your gps is down, you've got no idea how far you're going.  Hell, I didn't even have any idea of how LONG I had been running.  All this is to say, the inevitable came to be:  I got lost.  Now lost makes it sound like I was stumbling around babbling like an idiot, scratching my head and saying "oh shit, now where do I go?"  It wasn't quite like that.  It was more like I saw a trail thought it looked right, and went that way.  About an hour (maybe) later, I came to a trail hub where I did know where I was. That was good.  I continued on my way fighting the wind every step of the way.  All in all, that run really kicked my ass.  I'm guessing I ran somewhere around 11-14 miles.  It was a beautiful run, and I'll be certain to do it again in the future.  

An Easy One

Just got in from my easy 1 hour run.  I covered almost 7 miles, (6.81 to be precise) in 58:34. That's an average of 8:45/mile, and 130 bpm heart rate.  The shnoz? Yeah, pretty much more of the same.

Progressing

Today was a Progressive Run- 4 miles long.  Starting at 8:00/mile with each successive mile run faster than the last.  It looked something like this:

Mile 1:  7:54/mile

Mile 2:  7:43/mile

Mile 3:  7:34/mile

Mile 4:  7:20/mile

Total:  30:54

It felt good to do a little speed work but, again, my sinuses were really giving me grief.  

13 Miles on the Road

Yesterday's 13 miler went all right.  I averaged about 8:10/mile.  I had a problem with my sinuses, even though I took a benadryl beforehand.  I was pretty sore afterwards, and the ice bath helped some of that.  The roads beat me up more than the trails do.  Today, I'm resting and the sinuses are giving me grief AGAIN.  It's tough to get into shape when I can't eat properly and refuel after my workouts. Frustrating.  

Sinus Trouble

It's been a rough couple of days in the sinus department.  I was having some problems on our Christmas vacation, but it wasn't affecting my running, because I wasn't running.  Now I'm back, trying to get back into it, and it's just not happening.  I have a 14 miler scheduled for tomorrow.  I'll prep my running stuff for it, and see how I feel tonight and tomorrow morning.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Lazy Bones

I've been a bad boy.  No running for nearly a week.  We went to visit family for Christmas, and though we brought running clothes, they were never used.  We did, however, get in a leisurely 4 mile hike on the famous Dipsea Trail in the Muir Woods.  So beautiful!  I'm trying to convince myself that the rest did me some good, and in reality, I'm sure it did, I'm just not sure I needed nearly a week of it... oh well.

So, today's run was an easy 1 hour (58 minutes to be precise) and I ran almost 7 miles in that time.  I averaged a 8:30/mile.  It felt good to get out and run.  It does my soul good.

10 More Miles on a Rolled Ankle

Saturday's 14 miler was tough.  From the first mile on, my quads were heavy, and I just didn't have a lot of gas in the tank.  I rolled my ankle around mile 4.  The left one.  Again.  It didn't hurt long, but it was pretty tight the next morning coming down the stairs.  I took sunday off, and was supposed to run a progressive run today, but my quads were still sore so I did an easy 4 miles on the treadmill.  

Not Gonna Bore You

Yesterday's run, intervals, went pretty well.  All total I ran for about 1/2 an hour, and averaged a 7:32/mi.  I'm pleased.  I'm not gonna go into all the splits here.  Why? Today's easy 45 minutes went well.  My GPS watch didn't help me out at all, due to a dead battery.  

10 Kilometers, and One Heavy Breather

My coach has been on me to get some racing in.  I always figured it was because it forces you to run harder than you're probably used to.  Gets those competitive juices flowing.  I'm a pretty competitive person, so it was good to run it.  I awoke at 5:30 to overcast skies and  53 degrees... perfect running weather.  Sure, it's nice when the sun is shining and it's 70 degrees, but as soon as you start running, it gets much hotter.  I had a few bowls of cereal with rice dream, (trying to cut back on dairy wherever possible, my acupuncturist thinks its wise), a cappuccino, and finished up with two pieces of toast with just a drizzle of honey.  It's nature's energy gel!  I arrived at the race with about 15 minutes to spare, parked about 1/2 mile from the start/finish line to avoid the parking mess and get my warmup in.  

I got stuck about halfway back in the pack, so my first mile was probably around an 8:15.  In retrospect it was probably a good thing to prevent me from going out too fast.  Around mile 2 I was stuck near some heavy breather.   He kept exhaling real loud-  "WHEW!  WHEW!  WHEW!!!"  I looked down to see I was running in the 7:20/mi range and worried I was going too fast, but hell, I felt good.   It was around mile 3 I decided to just not worry about my pace, and just start to race.  I tried to focus on keeping relaxed, and staying steady.  Mile 4 brought a focus on other runners ahead of me, and a need to pick them off.  It usually involved fixating on someone wearing a peculiar hat.  First there was the woman in the santa hat, then it was a guy in a Dr. Seuss Cat in the Hat hat.  Finally, around mile 5  I saw some dude wearing a hat, backwards, emblazoned with a pot leaf.  I had to pick that guy off... and I did, about 30 yards from the finish line.  Does that make me a dick? Maybe. One bad thing though- I got picked off by some dude near the finish I had passed  1/2 mile earlier on a short uphill.   That sucked, but hey, it was my fault, I kicked too early.  I didn't leave enough gas in the tank.  I felt like I was gonna revisit my breakfast, but was able to keep things where they belonged.   Two runners I saw weren't so lucky.  One guy threw his groceries in the timing chip removal area.  

I don't run many 10Ks, this was probably my 3rd or 4th, with my best time being 42:00 or around there that I ran many years ago.  Today, I ran a 43:38, and was pretty pleased.  I went into it just hoping to break 45 minutes.  

Allergies vs. Cold

I went on my run wednesday, a "Pain is Your Friend" run.   (I thought it was my buddy, hmmm, I guess it's a different kind of friendship)  It was an interval workout, 30 seconds hard, 1:30 walk, 1 minute hard, 1:30 walk, 1:30 hard, 1:30 walk... you get the idea.  Well, I ran it at night, and for some stupid reason felt the need to be all anal retentive about logging splits... what a dumb ass I am sometimes.  Anyway, it got to be too much, and really what's the point? Later that night I had some sinus problems.  Big shocker, I know.  It felt like I was catching a cold.  Due to that, I 86'd my 7 miler scheduled the next day.  I had class and was looking ahead to a 10K on saturday, which brings me to...

Memories...

Yesterday's 11 miler was tough. Within the first mile, I knew it wasn't going to be a fun one. I had a rare, (though not unheard of) saturday audition in Santa Monica. Coincidentally, I had to play the role of a marathon runner, so I was dressed in my running clothes. I ran in Santa Monica right afterwards. I ended up running the very same route where I met my wife. I remember it like it was yesterday...

(cue the harp and squiggly lines onscreen)

We were training to run a marathon in Dublin, Ireland for the Arthritis Foundation. Every saturday morning, I'd make the long drive from Eagle Rock to Brentwood to train with the group. The coaches would separate us into different groups based on our fitness level and experience. I was running in the group with two other guys, or "the advanced group" and my wife was told to join us. I wanted her to feel welcome, so I told her to set the pace. I thought I was being nice. If you ask my wife, she'll tell you that she thought I was being a wise ass. I wasn't trying to be. Honest! I really just wanted her to feel like she was being accepted. She demurred, but I persisted. Finally, she accepted the offer, put her headset on and ran ahead of us. I remember thinking that was kind of a dick move. Well, the advanced group was somewhat accustomed to finishing each run with a bit of a kick. That run was no different. We did the kick, and passed her within the last mile (after she apparently killed herself to stay ahead of us). That's how we met.

And to think she actually married me.

Anyway, I ran that same route yesterday, and enjoyed the trip down memory lane.

It was the only thing I enjoyed on that run. Sometimes, you feel like crap, but push through that feeling. You stay with it, and down the road, you're rewarded by feeling a lot better, and kickin' ass. Yesterday there was no ass kickin'. After 2 miles, I knew I just had to gut out the next 9. The first 5 1/2 miles were all uphill, and when I turned around to run downhill, the wind buffeted me.

And from the "More-Information-Than-You-Needed- File", my left nipple got pretty chafed. Ouch.

So it looked like this:

11 miles in 1:32:57

Av: 8:27/mi 151 bpm Heart Rate

1158 calories burned

Lap 1: 47:10

Lap 2: 45:46

Bonus points for making it a negative split.

The Shaved Leg Theory

My legs are hairy.

Yeah, no surprise there.  I've gone through puberty.  But I have a theory.  If my legs are hairy, I will fall on the trails, if they're relatively hairless, I'm good.  No falls.  You see, I have shaved my legs in the past.  For running.  Actually, if I'm honest, I waxed them a long time ago.  Myself. Oh yes I did.  I did it while I watched football one afternoon.  (had to counteract the girlie-ness of it I guess)  and yes, it did hurt about as much as you would expect.  Now you're probably asking yourself, "Jeff, why in the hell would you do that?"  Good question.  I have done it for the same reason that cyclists do it.  I used to think that they did it for speed, aerodynamics, crap like that.  Not so.  Cyclists do it in the event of a crash.  You see, when you hit the pavement at a high rate of speed and you've got hairy legs, it doesn't scrape your skin off, it pulls it out in nasty clumps because of the hair.  When you've got smooth legs, you get the nasty road rash, the scrape, but it's relatively clean, and when you're treating the wounds, it's much easier to do so when there isn't hair.  All the scabbing... and trying to shave the area after you've had a bad scrape? Yeah, that sucks pretty hard too.  

Great, great, Jeff.  Can we get to it already? 

Of course.  In the past, when I've gone on long runs on the trails, I fall down occasionally.  Could be a turned ankle, could be tired legs letting me down, just your basic stumble bum scenario, but whatever the reason, I have fallen on the trail too many times to mention and have the scars to prove it.  That's when I started to get rid of most of the hair on my legs.  I don't shave them.  Sometimes I'd knock it back a bit, get the majority of it off, and it was like an insurance policy.  If the legs were relatively hairless, then the trail gods would smile down upon me and let me pass unimpeded.  But, when I have hair on them, and I start running longer distances on the trails, you can bet your butt that I'll find myself with blood running down a knee, or two...  

My trail runs are getting to be in the 12-14 mile range, and my legs? Hairy.  

You do the math.  

Today's run:  4 mile negative split looked something like this:

4.08 miles

Total time 30:46

Average 7:32/mile

153 bpm heart rate

lap 1:  

2.04 miles

16:06 

7:54/mile 

145/bpm heart rate

lap 2:

2.04 miles  

14:40

Average 7:10/mile 

163/bpm heart rate

ON YOUR RIGHT!!!!!!

Man, if I had a dollar for every time I had to scream that at the top of my lungs during a road run... well, let's just say I could bail out the big 3 automakers and still have enough for a new pair of Mizuno's.  I had to scream it 3 times yesterday, along with a few other choice expletives.  Always, it's the same thing.  Someone, usually on their phone, with a dumb "Who, me?" look on their face as they nearly run me over.   It usually happens when people are trying to beat oncoming traffic to make a left turn.  Sometimes they're rolling through a stop sign to make a right turn.  How do you miss a guy wearing a highlighter colored running jacket, reflective patches on the shoes, the jacket, the shorts... the flashing red light on my arm.  No, really, I have it.  I look like I f*&$#ing  belong on the Las Vegas Strip.   

Last night's run, 5, 3/4 mile repeats with a 1/4 recovery  between each... I gotta tell ya, I was flyin'!  At least it felt that way.  It wasn't until the 4th repeat that I was starting to feel it, but still, I just felt strong.  I felt fast.  Could I be, (have a seat, this could be big) getting stronger?!  

(cue the 2001 Space Odyssey theme)

Last night, I took my life into my own hands and ran on the road, in the fog, and ran 5 miles in 37:24.  It averages out to 7:29/mile with an average heart rate of 156/bpm.  

Say whaaaa?

Now for those of you who run, and run like the wind, those numbers will be, less than impressive.  But for me? The Red Kenyan? The guy with cheeto legs? Those numbers represent not the next great thing in marathoning but something smaller, less perceptible.  It's there if you look closely... little closer still.  There it is:  Progress.  BOOYA!  Yup, it's not big, it doesn't have Haile Gebrselassie (world record holder in the marathon) shaking in his skips or anything, but it does prove to me that hard work and patience will be rewarded.   

Update:  

I just returned from my easy One Hour Run this morning, and damn if I didn't feel good, again. I'm probably jinxing myself on this, but I did feel good.  I ran 7.30 miles with an average of 8:28/mile, and 148/bpm heart rate.

12 miler Saturday... and Feeling Kinda Good

There's a strange bump on the instep of my left foot.

How's that for a teaser at the beginning of a post? 

I don't know if it's a bone spur, or just a natural bump on the bone of my foot, but when I press on it, it hurts.  Solution:  Don't press on it.  Nice.  I only bring this up because it seems as though my trail runs bother it more often than my road runs.  Coincidence? Perhaps.  In any event, it doesn't seem to really bother my running much.  It aches usually only after a run, not during.  Well, not yet anyway.  I should probably have Dr. Schwartz, my podiatrist check it out in the new year.  

The 12 miler on saturday felt pretty damn good, if I do say so myself.  The 2 mile downhill on pavement to finish the run, however, did not feel so damn good.  It beat the shit out of my little chicken quads.  Bawk bawk bawk!  

No Trottin', but lots of Turkey

Well, as expected, my Turkey Trot never happened.  I just couldn't swing it.  Not with 12 people coming over for Thanksgiving dinner last thursday.  And really, let's be honest, the idea of getting up at the crack of ass just to drive all the way to Long Beach to run a 6 miler with a couple thousand of my closest friends, and then race home to help set up, cook and clean for Thanksgiving? Um, no.  Or rather, no thank you.  My wife and I ran a nice 3 miler together, so that was good.  

On another note, the football on Thanksgiving? Terrible.  Really.  What a joke.