Down with the Sickness

I didn’t run today, but at least I have a good story…

10:00 PM: Tuck myself into bed. Alarm set for 5:25. Plan to meet my friend at 5:45 for an easy 7-miler. Anticipating 7 hours of sleep – it’s the perfect plan.

10:15: 2-year-old baby starts crying and coughing. My wife’s maternal instincts kick in – she says, “That doesn’t sound right – it might be a long night.”

10:25: Eyelids getting very heavy, drifting off to sleep…

10:26: Loud cry from 2-year-old’s room. We go in just as she is vomiting in her crib. Wife changes the sheets and does laundry, I give 2-year-old a shower, brush her teeth, and warm her up in new pajamas under our bed covers.

10:30-11:00: 2-year-old vomits twice more while sitting on our bed, each time requiring change of clothes and tooth brushing

11:20: 4-year-old daughter starts crying in bed, begins vomiting just as I arrive in her bedroom.

11:22: Wife does laundry and prepares sofa bed in living room, I give 4-year-old shower, brush her teeth, and help put on warm pajamas.

11:40: 4-year-old and I stake out living room sofa, wife and daughter stay in our bedroom.

12:30 AM: 2-year-old settles down, wife puts her back in crib to sleep.

1:00, 1:45, 2:45: 4-year-old vomits, brushes teeth, uses mouthwash, returns to sofa each time.

3:25: 4-year-old is asleep. I actually look at my watch and think, Well, if I can get 2 hours of sleep, maybe I can still run… Daughter and I fall asleep.

5:25: Alarm goes off, 4-year-old is already awake and complaining of stomach ache.

5:45: Walk outside in pajamas to meet my friend and tell him I’m not running. Call work and tell them I’m not working. Lay back down with 4-year-old.

7:00: 4-year old wakes up, still feeling sick.

7:30: 2-year-old wakes up, feeling better.

7:30-12:00: Kids spend rest of morning on sofa watching cartoons. Mom and Dad try to rest in bedroom, to limited success. On the bright side, there’s been no vomiting for almost 9 hours.

Hopefully the rest day will do us all some good, and tomorrow will be better.

Read more...

Rabbits and Hounds (and One Major Fox)

One major reason why speed work is much better when done with a group: the thrill of the chase.

Several of us assembled for a workout of 1-mile intervals this morning. Sometimes we do this workout at the track, other times on a measured road course. This morning was on the road, which is very slightly uphill in one direction. I had planned on doing 8 intervals.

All of us run at various speeds, so we typically start these intervals by giving the slower runners a head start – they are the rabbits. Gradually, the faster runners begin their intervals, with the fastest guys starting last and trying to chase down the group ahead. The fast runners are the hounds.

Whether predator or prey, the chase makes everybody faster. And it usually keeps all of us humble. I may be some people’s hound, but I’m also a rabbit for several others. And sometimes the rabbits surprise us and never get caught, so the hounds don’t feel so smug. Either way, the workout seems to go much better when we do these staggered starts.

At least, it went better until we finished the sixth interval, at which point I started hearing the following:

“That’s enough for me – I’m done”

“I think I’m finished, too”

“I’ve got to go easy on this injury – I should probably stop.”

And so on, until I was the only one still wanting to run. So I labored through two more intervals. I wasn’t a rabbit, and I wasn’t a hound. I was just a really tired dude trying to keep his legs spinning through two more dang miles. It was amazing how much more difficult the final two intervals (especially the last one uphill) were compared to the first six.

Maybe I would have locked up even if the group had stuck around, but I think I would have done better if I had just one rabbit to chase, or one hound to evade. At any rate, I was grateful to be done.

When I arrived at the employee gym to shower before work, a friend of mine was on the treadmill, and we tossed around our usual banter for several minutes

Then Beyonce’s “Check On It” video started playing…and we both fell silent. For about three and a half minutes. I think “mesmerized” would be a good word to describe us.

I have a Master’s degree, he’s an MD, and this is the enlightened exchange we had once we found our voices again after the video ended:

Him: Whoa.

Me: Oh my goodness.

Him: Amazing.

And that seemed like a good time for me to step into the shower, and get on with the rest of my day.

Read more...

Big

Well, it only took one comment to figure out the other story I had in mind when looking at Saturday’s picture. Good eye, Rob – yes, everybody is drafting me. And it’s nothing new.

As marathoners go, I’m a pretty large fellow. I’m a shade over 6’2”, and typically range between 185 and 195 pounds, although I’ve seen the far side of 200 more than a few times in recent years. When I’m really in fighting shape I’ll get down to 180, but I can rarely stay at that weight for more than a few days after the event.

Considering that world-class marathon runners average a full foot shorter and 75 pounds less than me, it’s safe to say I wasn’t genetically selected for this particular event.

Yet I’m relatively fast for my size, and that poses some unique problems for me in many races.

While there are certainly taller and heavier runners in any given marathon field, most of them are further back in the pack than I tend to lurk. The vast majority of runners who run at my speed are significantly shorter and smaller than me.

So it’s natural that I constantly find people maneuvering to ride in my slipstream during a long race. I can’t say that I blame them: after all, if there were a 6’6”, 250-lb guy running at my speed, I’d ride his slipstream as long as possible.

The photo from my previous post reminded me of one year at the Big Sur Marathon (BSIM) that was particularly windy.

I should stipulate that headwinds at Big Sur are to be expected every year. Prevailing winds along our coastline almost always blow from north to south, and the BSIM course runs directly north up Highway 1. Veteran runners accept that wind is a standard part of the BSIM course, just another obstacle to overcome along with all the hills.

(Let’s just say there’s a reason that the high mark of the course is called Hurricane Point, and that the local training clinic dubs itself the “Into the Wind” club. That should give you the idea.)

During one race in the late 1990s. the headwinds were especially fierce. Sustained breezes were in the 15-20 mph range, with gusts up to 30-40 mph.

The first four miles of the course are sheltered by redwood trees, and I drifted among the packs of runners while establishing my desired pace. By time we emerged from the trees in mile 5, the packs were smaller, but still interspersed across the road.

Gradually over the next few miles, I saw fewer and fewer people around me. It didn’t strike me as odd until about mile 8, when I realized that I hadn’t heard or seen anybody around me for what seemed like 10 minutes.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw the biggest phalanx of runners I’ve ever seen in one pack in a marathon, all triangulated behind me so that I was at the front point. I must have been pulling 20 runners in my slipstream.

I decided to play a bit. I swerved to one side of the road, and the entire pack swerved with me. I came back across, and they followed suit. I faked left for a few steps, then galloped to the right to see if I could throw anyone off.

I probably ran about 27 miles during that marathon, factoring in all of the lateral movement I did during those miles.

Eventually I decided the easiest solution was to just slow down, and let the more anxious runners move past me to take their turn at the front. That seemed to do the trick, and I was even able to tuck into the pack for about a mile or so before the climb up Hurricane Point blew us all apart.

For some reason, I remember that day a lot, and seeing the picture from Saturday reminded me that things haven’t changed much. Over the years I’ve made peace with the idea that people are going to draft me, and it’s not really an issue for me.

After all, it’s perfectly legal. I practice it as much as I’m able to with my training group or during races. I have enough marathon experience by now that I can just about break even with the pushing and pulling over the course of a race.

But I’m still hopeful for that 6’6” guy who can run a 3-hour marathon to come along. If you know of one, please encourage him to come run Big Sur one of these years, and I’ll be sure to look for him.

Read more...

Dog Days recap

It was quite a busy weekend.

Our deck project officially started on Saturday, although the deck itself looks very similar today as it did three days ago. Most of the last two days were spent clearing out all of the crap around the house and yard so we can start the real demolition work soon.

The running-related highlight of my weekend was Saturday's Every Dog Has Its Day 10K, otherwise known as "Dog Days". As is our traditon, a few of us started early in the morning and ran 15 miles before the race, at an average pace of about 8:00-8:30/mile.

I ran the all-downhill 10K in 37:17 this year. My memory must be slipping, because in my previous post I reported that last year's time was in the low 37s, but it was actually 36:49. So I'm a little slower than one year ago, but not by much.

My time in 2003 was 37:13, and three months later I ran my best race ever at Big Sur, so I'm right in that same ballpark this year.

(Curious readers will wonder why my Dog Days time in 2005 was faster, but my Big Sur time slower. There's a story there, too. But that's for a later post...)

So I'm pretty much right where I want to be for my spring racing season. There's still a lot of work to go, of course, but the race was a good assessment.

Attached is a picture of Saturday's race. That's me in white. The guy on the far left in gray is Mike Dove, the co-author of my Monterey Herald column. It's worth mentioning that the guy is almost 59 years old, did the same pre-race mileage that I did, and I only beat him by about 5 seconds in the 10K.

He's really amazing. Every day I run with him I feel like Luke Skywalker training with Yoda - there's no end to the things he has to teach, and he continually impresses me with his abilities at an advanced age.

This picture tells another story, too - one that I'll elaborate on in my next post.

Read more...

Dog Days 10K

Thanks to everybody who expressed concern about our deck situation. Special recognition goes to Stacey, who took a page from my wife’s playbook and volunteered her husband to help me work this weekend.

I also like Stronger's idea of placing a trampoline at the base of the hill, creating a sort of thrill ride, like a redneck Great America. Maybe we could charge admission from neighborhood kids to offset some construction costs.

As it is, we have a large piece of plywood clamped across the entryway to prevent the kids from exploring, so at least we have one major safety aspect covered.

Enough about the deck. Tomorrow is one of my favorite training runs – the Every Dog Has Its Day 10K here in Carmel Valley.

It’s basically an all-downhill 10K that started as a birthday present from one running club member to another, and evolved into one of our club’s favorite traditions. Mike and I wrote a Monterey Herald article about it last year that you can read here.

I’m hoping to do about 15 miles before the race, then test out my 10K wheels. Last year I did the same thing before racing the 10K in the low 37s. This will be my first real chance to compare my current fitness level to last year's.

After that, I’ll switch into work mode and start our remodeling project. It should be a fun weekend.

Read more...

My New Job For This Weekend (And The Next Several Months)

When I pulled into my driveway after work yesterday, the sight that awaited me is pictured here:






Note the 8-foot section of railing that was formerly on the upper section of the deck, collapsed on the ground 15 feet below.





For another perspective, this (below) is what it looks like from the front door:





Our house is a "fixer-upper" in every sense of the word. It's more than 30 years old, and suffice to say it wasn't exactly built like Fort Knox.

Our family, under the direction and assistance of my father-in-law, has gradually been making improvements and repairs, but since we do all the work ourselves, projects tend to progress very slowly.

Particular jobs move up the priority ladder by triage. For example, on the day last summer when I fell through the second-to-top stair of our 10-step entry staircase, I commented to my wife, "I think it's time to fix the stairs now." Within a few days I finished the job.

We had planned on replacing our rotted, poorly secured, unstable deck during the summer, but it's amazing how an 8-foot section of falling guardrail can force your hand in some cases.

So now we have a deck to build. Actually, first we have an old deck to tear out, then a new one to build.

Major projects around here obviously require a significant time commitment. For at least the next few months, most of my days off from work, and many of my evenings after work, will be spent on one aspect or another of this new task.

At first glance, the timing doesn't appear ideal for somebody who is running two marathons in the next 15 weeks, one of which happens to be my biggest race of the year. Yet I'm not too troubled by this development, for a number of reasons.

I like to view these large-scale labor tasks like an accessory to my training: not exactly cross-training, but something that burns additional calories and keeps my tail off the couch for a couple extra hours each day.

They sometimes have a galvanizing effect on me, where I assume a mindset of continual activity. For some reason, if I know ahead of time that as soon as I get home I'll change right away into work clothes, stay outside until dinner, and go to sleep right after the kids are put to bed, it doesn't seem like such a burden. After a while it will become the routine and not seem so extraordinary. And for a short period of time, it's not too unbearable.

Our kids enjoy goofing around outside while we're working, so they'll be happy to spend a lot more time digging holes, cathcing snails, and making mud pies while Mom and Dad and Grandpa are climbing around the job site.

And finally...I've done big projects in the springtime before. Some years we've done major renovations that led right up to the Big Sur Marathon, and I still managed to have decent races. Of course, there's no way of knowing if I would have run better had I rested more and worked less leading up to the race, but that's not really the point.

Running has to find its place amidst all the other things happening in our family's life. It wouldn't be nearly as satisfying to run a marathon five minutes faster at the expense of delaying our deck project for another three months. So when important projects come up, they get priority over my ideal training scenarios.

The new project starts this weekend. Coincidentally, this Saturday morning is one of my favorite training runs of the winter - I'll describe it in a brief post on Friday.

I'll still do the run. I'll still train as much as I'm able to, and race the marathons this spring.

And hopefully by the summertime, we'll have a new deck on our house, a few months ahead of schedule.

Read more...

Bump in the Road

Right off the bat, Sunday morning’s run felt terrible.

I don’t usually dread my long runs that much – the biggest obstacle is getting out of bed at 4:30 to get started. Normally once I’m headed down the road or onto the trails, the only limiting factor is how much time I have left before my kids start getting hungry for breakfast.

(I’m the weekend breakfast chef at home. It’s amazing how many points instant pancakes and scrambled eggs will score you with young kids.)

Anyway, on Sunday I was about 20 minutes into my planned 3-hour run, and felt miserable. Nothing specific was bothering me, but I just felt worn out, like there wasn’t any fuel in the tank. My body seemed out of sync, and I couldn't find a comfortable cruising pace.

In my head I contemplated cutting the run way short and just heading back home, but I knew I would probably beat myself up about it for the rest of the day. Plus, I wasn’t going to get those extra hours of sleep back anyway, so I continued on and hoped things would fall into place.

Sometimes my body finds a groove after about an hour of running, but on Sunday the mark came and went and I still felt awful. The Gatorade and GU I was taking in didn’t seem to help much either.

Approaching two hours, my legs started feeling like lead, and hills that I normally scale with ease became arduous climbs. My pace slowed precipitously on the uphills, and my leg muscles got pounded on the downhills.

At the bottom of one hill I could have headed for home, but the watch only said 2:20, and I thought, “Well, I’ve come this far...”. I turned in the opposite direction to add another 4-5 miles.

The minutes just crept along. I checked my watch countless times in that final hour, and each time I was disappointed to see that very little time had elapsed since the last time I looked.

Normally at the end of a long run I can crank my pace up to marathon speed for a few miles, but today I was just trying to keep placing one foot in front of the other. I finally reached the base of my driveway at the three-hour mark, and hobbled up the stairs into my house.

It doesn’t often happen that an entire run feels miserable, and I’m never sure what it tells me about my training.

Maybe I’m overtraining in my attempt to be in race shape for Napa in 7 weeks. Maybe I haven’t been as diligent as I need to be about eating well and sleeping enough (OK – this one isn’t exactly a news flash), and my body can’t perform at the level that I normally expect.

On the other hand, maybe my body just isn’t used running to a 20-miler at the end of a 70-mile week yet, and I just need another couple of times to find my comfort zone. This is a typical mileage pattern for me during marathon preparation, so I know I can handle it if I keep plugging away.

Or maybe Sunday’s run was just an aberration. Bad days do indeed happen, sometimes for no apparent reason. It’s usually best to just let them go. I’ve found that overanalyzing and overcompensating can often cause as many problems as they solve.

And the occasional bad days help me to appreciate the other days when I feel strong and run smoothly.

After a rest day yesterday, I ran 15 miles this morning and felt great, posting my fastest time on the loop this season.

So maybe there’s hope for a good race at Napa after all. (I mean, not that I was worried….)

Read more...