Archive for September, 2004
Off-Topic
But what the hell was this guy thinking?
I can just imagine the little private conversation in his head.
“I really want to see little Chauncy more often. Hmm, the courts say no. I wonder what will make people really pay attention and listen to my plea. Yes! That’s it. I’ll piss off the royalty. That’ll get me to see my kid.”
(All humour aside, I consider the cause just, but the means flawed.)
Gym-iny Cricket!
I woke up this morning not feeling much like running. So, I didn’t. I went to the gym to lift weights instead. I won’t bug you with the details. I just worked on building my upper body strength, and pushed around lots of metal. I worked a lot on my core strength as well. This afternoon at lunch, I’ll go work my legs, too. I’ll give them a serious thrashing.
And then tomorrow, I’ll throw eight more miles on the pile.
What I think I’ll do going forward is this:
M-gym.
T-long run
W-gym.
Th-long run
F-rest.
Sa-gym.
Su-superduper long run.
I think that works better for me than Higdon’s lots-of-little-runs and one long one.But hey, why am I arguing with Higdon?
Because it’s my body, dammit. : )
Six Easy Miles?
Thank you, Richard Feynman.
I was just talking to Kat about this Sunday afternoon. Since when did six miles start to feel like no big deal? Do you know it was only four months ago that I ran my first 5K? And I was worried about not finishing for whatever reason. Holy cow.
I left really early and ran under the cold starry skies. A low fog crept through the grass, tangling around my legs. I was there too early. Every living thing seemed anxious at my calling upon them at such an early hour. They were spooked. I became spooked.
As a result, I ran fairly fast for the first five miles. Fast as in 5K pace fast. Fast as in personal record fast. But not because I’m an amazing runner. I was mostly afraid of all the crunching, bumping crackling sounds around me, and the fear got me to run faster and faster. I just kept convincing myself that all this temporary spooky feeling was fun. And it was. (kinda)
At the end of it all, six miles. I hadn’t really known what was on the docket for the day. I think four. Maybe five. But whatever. I did my big assed loop and then did another smaller circle in the first forest to get me a little extra. Tomorrow, I think there’s 8 on the bill. And Sunday, the race. 23K. On a mountain. A cold mountain in the westernmost part of New Hampshire. Woo!
15 Miles, No Deer
The first four miles were swell. I did them six minutes faster than normal. By mile 10, I was still feeling super-hero-like, so when I got to the point where I could measure the same first four minutes, I raced it again. I came in five minutes faster than normal. Can you imagine? Ten miles into a 15 mile run and I was still coming up with little games.
And that’s the trick.
Games were what made the distance bearable. In fact, “fun” would be a much better description of what I was doing. I had a really great time. I learned lots about myself on this run. For one, I learned that the voice that wants to quit running is easily put off by the voice that wants to give myself little challenges.
I also learned that man cannot live by gatorade alone after such distances. Around mile 12 or 13, I felt like there was nothing left in the tank. I pushed onward, but mostly because I was in the middle of the forest and I had to run back to where I’d parked, but nope. I need FOOD after the tenth mile or so, it would seem. No energy bars. A sammich. I’m thinking peanut butter and jam. Yep.
So it was a great run. Perfect weather. Good time. Faster than normal. And though I was sore afterwards, I had enough in me to play volleyball with friends for two and a half hours that night.
How was YOUR weekend?
09.11.04
The best thing I’ve done since September 11th was take control of my life. Most of that is reflected in my weight loss, in my improved self-esteem, and in my new goals surrounding even better fitness. I am completely different from the guy three years ago. Only the genes are the same.
Tennis! Pow!
Want a little butt kicking for cross training? Try tennis. Man, that really works other parts of you out, and keeps your cardio right up there. I’m just starting out, so it’s a little more jumpy than need be, but really fun.
Tennis Welcome Center has lots of information.
Hydration/Fueling
One cool trick I’m doing on my runs I wanted to share:
I do my first four miles on water only, and then do diluted Gatorade (powder mixed watery) from the Camelbak for the rest of the run. I then take a sip more of water from the hand bottle to swish out some of the gummy afterfeeling of Gatorade.
This whole gig, however, keeps me feeling REALLY strong the entire run, and I don’t have to try and woof Clif bars while running along.
What’s your trick?
Deer in Headlights
Well this morning, boys and girls, I got a firsthand experience of what the expression means, “deer in headlights.” I was running along that particularly thin piece of single track with the cliff-ish right hand side that drops about forty feet. This is in the dark mind you. But with my headlamp on, I suddenly see two green eyes glowing back at me about 15 feet away. Aieee!!!!
I stop. The deer doesn’t move. I take a few deep breaths, because hey, I’ve been running here. And then, I realize, “oh yeah, the headlight thing.” So, I turn off the headlamp and the deer bounds off the way it came, somehow scrambling down part of the treacherous part, but hey, it’s smarter than me, right?
The rest of the run was uneventful. It was muggy, but it was so damned early that I didn’t much care. I did eight miles and felt like I had plenty more to throw out, even when I bumped my pace up and tried dipping deeper into the glycogen stores than I have been lately.
One final note: I returned my rental car this morning (mine was in the shop for the sake of anally raping me financially), and the rental lady asks me: “What did you do to the seat?” I immediately felt embarrassed. I said, “I went running this morning.” She says, “Did you leave the window open or something?” I said, “No..” pause, “I went running this morning.” I just couldn’t bring myself to say that I sweat so hard into her rental car cloth seats that they were still damp upon returning the vehicle. Um, whoops.
Fourteen? Fourteen?
I find it odd and yet telling that my first and second half-marathon-distance runs have been in the woods to absolutely no fanfare, and existed completely as a training exercise.
I started running at 5:03AM. It was still fairly dark, but that’s part of the fun. I twisted my ankle fairly roughly early on, like after the first mile. Though I had to walk a few hundred yards, I otherwise didn’t notice an issue, so I kept going.
At four miles, I did a big loop instead of backtracking. I went back into the forest the same way I went in 40 minutes before. I met a woman on the path swatting the hell out of herself, so I said as I ran past, “Boy, they’re out here today, huh?” This was mostly to have something to say other than hello. Bugs don’t bite you if you’re running fast enough.
Further down my second loop, I passed a couple with their dog. We see each other out here a lot. Just past them, though, I stopped dead, and shut off my chronometer. There, on the hill, were deer. A bunch. I pointed to the hill and signaled the people. They, oddly enough, just kept walking and talking. So, when they reached me, the woman says, “Oh, they don’t go anywhere. Just keep moving, and keep talking. They’re used to us.” And no kidding. They were.
There were four bucks and a doe. They were all adolescent at best, and small. I thought there weren’t any deer at Maudslay. Boy, was I wrong. I just hadn’t seen them. Evidently, I was being too quiet for them. (What?)
When I took off again, I felt like a superhero. I just ran and ran. Nothing was bugging me. I felt strong and fluid, and I put the miles out there. I got to the turnaround and bolted down the singletracks. There’s this one part that’s a really steep descent, and every time I’m there, I do switchbacks. I say in my head, “Good enough for skiiers, good enough for me.” Why? Don’t know. But if I don’t, I tend to run down the middle and threaten my continued existence.
I got back to the last part of the forest and still had some time to burn, so I did another short loop, passing a guy and his beautiful retrievers. One thing about Newburyport is that everyone has these purebred dogs. No mutts there, not counting me.
So, fourteen miles, and I got home to my smiling daughter. She says the same thing when I come in the door. “Daddy all done running!” And then she tries to hug me, stops, and says, “Daddy all wet!” That and a kiss or three from my wife (who doesn’t mind as much that I’m wet), and I get a nice hot shower for my efforts.
This Sunday, 15 miles. Then? A race at 15.
Number 9…Number 9…Number 9…
It starts off in darkness, with crickets and dew-necklaced grass. The moon is getting fatter; I think she’ll go into labor soon. I run down a track no bigger than my shoes, into a small stand of pines. The track’s wider here. They throw sawdust chips all over to absorb the mud and keep it viable.
Today, I’m running with my Camelbak Lobo (9 bucks on clearance at EMS), loaded with diluted gatorade. It’s not that I need that much hydration today, but this is training for the 15 miles in a few weeks. I also have my handheld water bottle. In my head, I’m singing a weird mix of Eminem and Jolie Holland, one line of each over and over. Stop it!
I find a singletrack off the main path, and it’s getting a little lighter, but I still need the headlamp here in this dense part. I’m hopping fallen birches, slipping over pine roots, and getting closer and closer to the river.
My heart rate monitor’s been helping my feeling of power. If I keep my rate down in the 79% range (called the FIT ZONE on my watch), I feel like I could run forever. If I go into the 85% or so (the PERFORMANCE ZONE), I can do it for a while, but not forever, and I feel it more. The longer I run in the FZ, the better. And I’m listening to it.
I cross a little wooden bridge over a stream feeding the river. Ducks and a loon scatter. I crest another gravelly hill, and I’m back along the river. There are places where I’m running on the thinnest of tracks, with 40 foot sloping drops to one side. Nothing scary. It’d hurt, but I wouldn’t die. But beautiful.
When I get about four plus miles in, I turn around. Hey look, it’s sunny out. I run back the way I came, but it all feels different. That huge hill that set my quads on fire is now a challenging downhill. The switchbacks are now root traps and I take a good stumble at one point. Now, I’m drinking lots more gatorade than water, but having to swish it down with good ole h2o.
Dogs and their walkers are now on the trail. I see a nice couple with their two happy little guys. I see the young woman and her dog that sneered at me yesterday (not sure why, but whatever; they’re nicer today). I get back to the little pine forest on track, and I SPRINT all the way through it to the exit, smiling at how strong everything feels. Nine miles the day after 8. I feel powerful. Mighty, even.
