Dirt Trails Good for the Feet, Not Hands

I fell hard, just like the real marathoners. Nine miles into my 20 mile run. I was dodging high-fives for the rest of my run, and couldn't shake hands with anyone for a day or two afterwords. Luckily by mile 20 the pain in my legs made me forget about the abrasions. The last few miles I got to that point where each step is an act of sheer willpower. For me, that's what marathon running is about. Keep going when all you want to do is stop. With 2 miles to go I walked for a minute, but walking didn't feel any better so I ran. After 20 miles I'm not so sure I want to do this. How do I get to a point where I actually want to run 26.2 miles?

The evening featured seasonal beer, grilled salmon, a fire pit, and smores. Feel much better now.

Owie Owie Owie

Classic rock and weight training is a dangerous mix. I was pumped up and rockin' out! Now I'm very sore. That's alright, the important thing is it's game 1 of the World Series and I got nachos.

Don't Know Much Biology...

...but I've heard there are major muscle groups that are strengthened with weight training, and the increased endurance carries me through a longer run to give an equally big workout to all the surrounding and supporting tissues, strengthening the entire skeletal-muscular system. Or something like that. Whatever it is, as long as it feels good I guess I'm okay.

I had the best gym workout in a long time. They were playing XM BigTracks, rock hits from the '70s, '80s, and beyond. GnR, White Lion, Yes, Bon Jovi, even REO Speedwagon. I'm going to be sore tomorrow. I know it.

Definitely for the Girls

The first thing that struck me about the Nike Women's Marathon was the overwhelming smell of nail polish. The second thing that struck me was the long line, not for packet pickup, but foot massages. The third thing, standing in Union Square at 7am, was that us few guys out there were outnumbered 20 to 1, even if officially the ratio was 19 to 1. Some women were running bandit, but I'm not naming names.

I wanted to run slow. I got my fast time and needed a slow run in prep for the full marathon next month. So I estimated a 9-9:59 pace, which is really sandbagging it. Now, in a normal race I can pass pretty aggressively, but in this case my chivalrous side took over and I spent the whole time going no, please, after you, I insist. While any day spent surrounded by 20,000 beautiful women is a good day, I know this is their race, not mine. Besides, I explained to any passing female, why would I want to rush this?

My goal was a slow race, but in the end I couldn't help running at a faster, more comfortable stride. I wanted a 2:05 time, but fell short, getting only a 2:04.

I Feel So Weak

After the 16 miles, a short recovery run the next day, and a hard track workout the day after that, today I went for my weekly medium-distance run. It started bad. I felt weak, my legs hollow, my muscles unwilling, my torso and shoulders askew, my head bobbing, wondering how I was going to run like a total train wreck. I was tired, sore, miserable, and (suddenly noticing) running pretty darn fast. I slowed down to a more normal pace, felt much better, and within a mile or two was able to relax and watch the scenery jog slowly by.

Setting The Next Goal

My goal for next Sunday is to run my slowest half marathon ever. In fact, if I finish in less than 2:05 I'm going to be disappointed. It won't be easy, but I think I can do it. A 9:30 pace? A full minute and a half per mile slower than last weekend? Aim high. Reach for the stars.

A PR, an anti-PR, and another PR would cap off a great fall run series. Besides that there is the training factor. Next Sunday's half marathon is sandwiched between two long runs so I need to take it easy and give my body a chance to recover. Make it a rest weekend. While I haven't found as much time for training as I had hoped, it turns out my baseline is pretty good. Credit my typical 12 mile Saturday run consistently for the past year or so. I surprised myself with my 1:45 PR in San Jose. I should be able to do a sub-4 hour marathon in San Antonio. So next weekend it is imperative I relax and not push hard. I have nothing more to prove. Nothing more to prove? Where's the fun in that? I have to prove I can hold back my pace. A social run. Conversation pace. You can do it!

1:45:29

For the first two miles I was wondering if the title of my next blog post would be "No PR For Me!" That is what a big dork I am. A beautiful day, fresh air, vibrant crowds, rock-n-roll bands, the purity of running, and I'm thinking about my computer. More to my worry, my legs felt stiff, especially my left leg, adding to the fact that I hadn't trained quite as hard as I planned. Putting that aside, I figured I'd run at my target pace for a while and see what happens.

After a few miles I loosened up. After a few more miles I really started to relax. The last half of the race I was totally relaxed and feeling good. The whole race I figured I'd keep up my target pace for a while longer and see what happened.

By mile 12 I knew I had a personal best. All I had to do was keep it up and the question was how fast could I actually do it. Stay relaxed and loose. Micro-adjustments to my stride and posture as needed.

As I rounded the second to last corner the band started playing "Fortunate Son." Adrenaline tingled up and down my spine. All I saw was the finish line banner, running hard as I could to bring it in. Stomach cramps be damned. After walking that off, and enjoying a banana, yogurt, and fruit cup, we sat out on the grass with free beer. That's a good race.

Considering I was partially composing this post on the run, I took long enough to actually write it.

Quantum of Pain

When I was young my mother told me to listen carefully to what my body was telling me. Even though she was probably talking about eating too much candy, I am thinking about how it applies to running. I'm wondering exactly how closely I can listen to what my body is telling me.

This is the Wong Pain Scale, where 0 is "I'm feelin' fine" and 5 is "Oh dear, I seem to have accidentally cut off my hand with a chainsaw."

A 1 might be natural soreness after a long run, a 2 might mean it's time for an ice bath, and a 3 means you may have injured yourself. But what about the difference between a 1.1 and a 1.2? or a 1.25? If I feel a slight twinge in my IT band, isn't it better to hit that spot with the foam roller sooner, before it gets worse? If I can't tell the difference between a 1.1 and a 1.2 then I might not take corrective action until I hit a 1.5. An injury will be easier to reverse if caught early. Recently my left IT band went from 1.5 to the low 2s. I worked it for 5 minutes every half hour until it was down to a 0.5, which to me felt like a -3. Ahhhhhhhh.... Ready to run again! Since then I've watched it closely, giving attention to anything over a 1.0

So what is the smallest unit of detectable injury, my own quantum of pain?