08.13.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 10:12 am by Andy
As noted in the previous post, I created my marathon training plan. The basic premise is that I’ll be running easy paced mileage, steadily increasing to a long run of 20 miles three weeks out from the marathon. The 18 week plan is easily broken into six three-week segments or phases. In each phase, the long run increases in length for two weeks, and then there is a “cut-back” or recovery long run before moving on to the next phase. Each phase builds on the previous one, culminating in a final “long run” of 26.2 miles.
I finished phase 1 a few days ago, and at this point I’m feeling very good. Although I’m pushing some days back here and there, I’m completing all the runs each week. This is key for me, as in the past even when I’ve had a written plan to work from I’ve missed days here and there. There have been days when I’ve been eager to hit the road, and days where I’m wishing I was glued to the couch, but I’ve been out putting in my time and sticking to the spirit of the plan.
Keeping my runs at an easy pace has been key to my success so far, I believe. In the past I’ve tried to keep my aggressive pace while increasing mileage, and I always seem to end up with some pain or another that keeps me from progressing. This is not to say that I’m running appreciable mileage now, but it is notable that I’ve put in back-to-back 20 mile weeks for the first time in 11 months and I’m feeling very good. I’m happy with this. I realize that my training and experience will likely leave me all but crippled at the finish line of this marathon, but I’ll get there.
The last month has not been without it’s ups and downs, despite the generally easy track taken. Of note on the high end, I set a new personal record in the 5k on July 26, running a 23:20 at the Dash for Donation in downtown Columbus. I ran hard, nearly lost my breakfast at the finish line, and was very pleased with my effort. Of note on the low end, playing softball has aggravated my left calf and made it very painful to sprint or run hard. Thankfully, sprinting is not a part of my marathon training. But pain is still not a welcome house-guest. I’ve been doing as much icing as I can, resting when able, and not overexerting the muscle. After nearly two weeks of said attention, things seem to be improving. I’m happy with this, as well.
In the coming weeks, I’ll have long runs of 11 and 12 miles, and by early September I’ll be up to the longest runs of my life at 14 and 15 miles. Sooner or later, I think I will realize that I’m a moron for doing a marathon so soon.
I’m just hoping there is a camera present to capture the moment of enlightenment.
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07.11.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 10:08 am by Andy
I’ve done plenty of hard/medium/easy training 5k’s in under 30 minutes, but the only races I’ve done at that distance are the huge Komen races where I run with my buddy. So while my unofficial 5k PR is 23:00, I know that 30:08 is where it stands officially, and that’s what I wanted to change in this race.
I pulled into the parking lot at the park, and there were dogs everywhere. It was a run to benefit the local humane society, and leashed dogs could run the course with their owners. This should be fun.
As I’m walking over to the registration tent, my body reminds me (through sweating) that it’s hot outside. Hopefully this woudn’t affect my performance. I had a long weekend out in the sun last week, and I was still recovering from the wicked sunburn. The course was an out-and-back setup, going around the park, down the Rails to Trails path, and back. To put it bluntly: no shade.
I got my race number (good ole 61), and waited for the start. With about ten minutes to go, I took a jog of about a quarter mile to begin the warmup process. As I was strolling down the path, I noticed that while it wasn’t listed as being humid according to relative humidity (45-ish percent), the air was a bit thick and made deep breathing a chore. This was not encouraging to me, but I quickly put it out of my head.
The start was imminent, but nobody wanted to toe the starting line. The MC stated, “we’re starting the race whether you guys are ready or not, about one minute.” With that, a few of us reluctantly went up to the line. I’ve never been this close to the start line before, usually I’m a good football field away, or more. Last night… one foot. It was slightly intimidating, but nobody else wanted to do it so I thought, “…what the hell?”
The horn went off, and we shot out of the gate. That first 25 yards was too fast for my blood, so I settled into what felt like a sub-8:00 pace. Surprisingly, not too many folks passed me. I was expecting to get trampled by the shy-elites, but only 10 or so people went by in the first half mile, including two women who were running with their dogs. I wasn’t too excited about this (the dogs beating me), but knew that this was not the point in the race to “win”. As we exited the park and headed out on the Rails to Trails, I was pleased to see that while the dog ladies had passed me, they were not extending the gap. They stayed about 20 yards in front of me. I decided that I would hang tough.
I also noticed that right around these dogs were some guys who looked to be about my age. I would keep them in my sights as well, and hopefully have the gas to pick off as many competitors as I could. After what seemed like a lifetime, we passed the one mile marker. I did not hit my watch, I didn’t want to know. I was running kung fu. The heat and sun were taking their toll and making me warm, but I was not breathing hard. Usually, when the going gets tough, I start breathing in rhythm. This had not happened yet. I decided that if I still felt okay, I’d pick up the pace a bit at the turn-around.
As we approached the cones signalling the mid-point, I had begun to close the gap on one of the dog ladies and two of the four guys I was chasing. I threw a little burst in right before the hairpin and passed one guy, then went by the other guy and one of the dogs just past the turn. I kept the effort constant, and slowly reeled in the other dog lady (running with two cute pups). At about 1.75 miles, a younger girl (from the sound of her voice) and I both passed the dogs, her on the left and me through the grass. The girl (turns out she was 27 with a very young voice) and I were shoulder to shoulder for about a minute, but I dropped her, too. The other two guys around my age were about 40-50 yards in front of me, with about 1.25 miles to go. Too much distance for me to worry about just yet. Keep the effort constant and continue the push. If they were there for the taking later on, I would do it.
Two miles came, and I hit the watch lap timer this time (I’m weak, I know). I looked down to see something like 15:39. I was okay with this, but could pretty much tell that going sub-23 was out. But I figured I could walk it in and break 30, so I smiled and kept the pressure on. We left the rail/trail and went back into the park, which meant about 0.5-0.6 miles to go. To my surprise, I’d significantly closed the gap on the two gents in front of me. One, Mr. Green Basketball Shorts, struggled up the tiny 8 foot hill on the path, and I used the small downhill to blow by him. One more guy to go.
This whole time, I’m listening to jangling dog tags in my ears coming from behind me. The lady with the two pups was close by, and I didn’t want to be beaten by them. As the heat was sapping my energy, the dogs changed in my mind from cute little puppies to mangy dogs who must be beaten. I was NOT going to be out-kicked by these mutts if it took everything I had. With about a quarter-mile to go, I hear their owner tell them they just have a little bit to go, and, “c’mon, lets finish guys!” I expected them to blow by on my left, but it didn’t happen. All the while, the last person I can catch is about 10 yards in front of me and is maintaining his distance.
We passed a gazebo which I knew was about 0.15 miles from the finish, and I decided that whatever kick I possessed was going to get used now. I was breathing heavily now, the effort was catching up to me, and I know that guy had to hear me coming. I figured he’d fight for his spot, but I rocketed by him easily and sprinted to the finish. I breasted the imaginary tape at 23:49(!!!!) and staggered to a walk. Sweat pouring down my face, nausea very present, I walked to the table where they had a few medals left. The guy at the table asked how old I was, and when I said “30,” he told me I “missed it by one year.” They only gave awards to the top finisher in each age group. Oh well, I had my PR and a strong finish. I was pleased.
I figured that I was somewhere in the top 30-40 overall. When I looked at the official results this morning, I found that I was 3rd in my age group, finishing 17th overall. I know not a lot of people showed up (none of the local elites), but wow was I surprised! Top 10% overall, 16% gender. No complaints at all, a very fun night.
My official marathon training begins on the 21st. If you care to view the plan, click here.
Thanks for reading. Let the games begin.
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07.07.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 12:50 pm by Andy
Some web browsers are set up with Auto-Complete functionality enabled, where if you begin typing something in a particular field (address, phone number, title, etc.) that you’ve typed before, it presents you with the ability to complete the entry with a single click to save you some typing. I find this to be a useful tool when completing entry forms for online purchases, etc. And I’ve recently found it to be an enlightening tool when it comes to my writings.
Last week, I started a private entry in my running log titled “I need a running buddy”. Turns out, I’d made an entry with the exact same wording almost a year, to the day, prior. How odd.
Today, I’m typing the title of this post, “When will I learn?”, and it prepopulated for me. I’m tempted to believe that I’m repeating myself. I’m also tempted to believe that I’m having difficulty learning from life as it passes me by. Both may be true.
What I’m most inclined to take away from the crappy schedule I’ve kept over the past two weeks is that I need a plan and said plan needs to be posted on my refridgerator. Otherwise, I make it too easy for “life” to get in the way and distract me from progressing.
I’m a runner, but I’m also many other things. Balance is not something that I’m noted for acheiving. My typical path in a hobby (aka, things I like) is this:
- Introduction by chance
- Casual interest blooms into obsession
- Obsession manifests itself physically and mentally, and like a flame it’s insatiable consumption eventually marks it’s demise.
I like running, and I don’t want to quit. But I’m deathly afraid that if I let my emotions guide my running rather than reason that I will be done before I know it. This is not something I want to accept, and my goal going forward is to be reasonable.
Why is all of this coming to the fore right now? Who knows. All I know for sure is that I’ve run less than 12 miles in the last 2 weeks, and that’s not going to cut it. The emotional side of my brain is telling me that I need to make up what I’ve missed if I’m to have any chance of doing well in November. I also hear rumblings that attempting to do a marathon with the base (or lack thereof) that I have is stupid.
You know what, I think that “they” are kind of right. But I also don’t care. I’ve stated all along that I have no goal for November 23 other than to show up, have fun, and finish. I don’t need to run the whole thing without stopping. I don’t need to finish under four hours (or even five!). I don’t need to worry about placement, time, the opinions of others, or anything other than what I want to get out of this event. And that’s doing a marathon.
It’s suggested in some circles that doing a marathon just to do it is less than noble. From the standpoint of those people, I understand and accept this statement. But I have to be careful not to let the thoughts of others become my own without reason. I’m not to the point where I can say that I’m suitably trained for really any distance, let alone a race that covers 26.2 miles. I feel comfortable in saying that if you put a gun to my head and said, “run XX miles or you’re a dead man,” that I could do it. But I don’t feel like I’m anywhere near my potential at any distance. For that, I need to exercise patience. Something else of which I’m not noted for possessing massive amounts.
The marathon will come, I will be there, I will finish. It may not be pretty, it will likely hurt, but it will be. There are highs and lows in every cycle, and I wouldn’t call this a high. It will be hard work to get where I need to be, and now is the time to plot the path back to good times.
Did I mention that nine or ten months is a long time to be thinking about a goal race for someone so new to the sport? Sheesh…
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06.20.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 9:09 am by Andy
Things have seemed to be hit or miss in the last few weeks, let me get you up to date.
First of all, it seems that my forced rest from the road has been mostly positive. One episode aside (I’ll get to this in a minute), I’ve been mostly pain free in my right knee/ITB area. I’m focusing more on taking things even easier/slower, so that as my mileage goes up I’m not putting undue stress on things. It’s been hard to focus on easy, but it’s been rewarding.
My one major mileage event of the spring was my annual participation in the Relay for Life, the 18-hour event put on by the American Cancer Society. I had set a goal for myself to complete at least 15 miles this year, to surpass the 13 I did last spring.
The weather cooperated for those on the track, and it was comfortable and dry for the duration. I ended up taking the bulk of my shift on the track from 1:30 AM - 4:00 AM. I decided that when I was running (which I’d intended to be about 75-80% of the time), I would shoot for a 10:00/mile pace. I felt that this would enable me to keep going without feeling stressed. After a rough start, this strategy proved to be a winner.
The first two miles were painful. My right knee was killing me, and it felt like someone was sticking a fork in the side. I considered walking, briefly. But then I had a classic “middle of the night moments of rationalizations for doing something stupid”. We were running/walking to raise money for cancer. There were people present who had suffered from and survived that dreaded disease. And there were countless more who hadn’t made it. I was wearing the initials of two grandparents on my leg who had been taken by cancer. I’m sure that each of these people who’d been unfortunate enough to be touched by cancer had experienced more pain than I can fathom, much less what was going on in my right leg. I decided to push forward.
Stubbornness and stupidity were rewarded. At about mile 3, the pain went away. Because it was 2 in the morning, I’m not sure if I just imagined that it was gone, or if my legs loosened up enough to allow things to move smoothly, but I was pain free. The next ten miles flew by. Not in the sense that I was running fast, because that certainly wasn’t the case. They flew by because I was enjoying myself. Enough that I’m considering lining up something really stupid for next year’s event.
When all was said and done, I had completed 15.5 miles. And the best part was that my legs didn’t complain one bit afterwards. That is encouraging to me. Pretty soon, I’ll be doing plenty of runs that are 15 miles and longer, and it’s good to know they don’t completely wreck me.
Last week, we were on a family vacation in South Carolina, and I made a goal to run each of the six days we were there. A long story made short, I didn’t accomplish this goal. I ran four of the six days, but did get a lot of “cross training” in doing some body surfing and swimming. I felt a little badly that I didn’t accomplish my goal, and that brought me to this week.
Last week was the last week I had structured as part of my spring plan. My motivation was slacking a bit, and was (sadly) complacent with the lack of mileage I’d run in the recent weeks. Some odd “conversations” I had with a very good runner were very motivating to me, and I realized something. I’d made mediocrity acceptable.
Don’t want to run? No big deal, you can go tomorrow.
Don’t want to stick to your plan? No problem! Even though those workouts were scheduled for a reason, do what you want!
Feel like half-assing it? Now you’re talking. All that matters for you is finishing, anyway… right?
Two weeks ago, I made a comment at work to one of “the suits” that “I’m a person who likes to be good at what they do, so if I’m going to be doing something, I’m striving to be the best I can be.”
That’s a true statement, but after reflecting on my recent running, I found it interesting that I’d save a statement like that for use with my vocation as opposed to something that I really enjoy.
Bottom line, nobody is forcing me to run. I do it because I like it. And anything that’s worth doing, is worth busting your butt for, right?
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05.24.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 8:57 am by Andy
We’re getting ready this morning to head down to a hilly portion of Ohio (read: not Columbus). We’ll be visiting some family over the long weekend, and I decided that it would be a good time to get in a little run.
I did some looking at some of the courses I usually run, and the elevation profiles associated with them. The final numbers usually look something like this: 8 ft gain / 8 ft loss. Over five or six miles. Pretty rough, huh?
I mapped out the route I’m going to run later today. The elevation profile looks nothing like the flatlined monitor I’m used to viewing. This run? 633 ft gain / 633 ft loss. Over 4.85 miles.
This is going to be awesome.
I haven’t run since Monday, if you even count that (I do). And I haven’t run hills of any kind since last September. So today is going to be an educational experience. I’m going to take it slowly, and not try to do anything than be strong the whole way through. I’m expecting it to be a hard effort, but fun.
Are there flying monkeys in Southeastern Ohio?
Update: There were no flying monkeys yesterday, but I did cut my run a bit short. My right knee was bothering me on the way up the hill, so I decided to cut about 1.5 miles out of the run and just do one major uphill and downhill. Up the hill (1.67 miles) was done in 23 minutes, which works out to a 13:47 pace. This was one long hill. Damn that hurt. Down the hill was done in 11 minutes which works out to a 6:36 pace. There were sections of that where gravity was doing 95% of the work and I was just making sure I didn’t face plant on the asphalt. It was slightly scary.
Today, I don’t feel terrible at all, but I can still feel a little residual soreness from the run yesterday and my workout on Friday.
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05.22.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 1:20 pm by Andy
Disappointment
I’ve mentioned that Jerry and I were trying to go under 30 minutes in the Komen Race for the Cure. When we lined up Saturday morning and the gun went off, we felt good. The temperature was ideal for running, the course was changed from previous years which provided for better scenery, and our legs felt strong.
And the whole first mile was stop and go.
I never saw the mile marker for mile one, but I never felt like we got going. I’d be willing to guess that we were running close to 11 minutes/mile at that time, which wasn’t going to cut it. We picked it up a little a wound our way around Goodale Park, which was very pretty. Running in the Short North is enjoyable, and I hope to be able to do it again soon.
I knew from the course flyer approximately where the mile 2 marker should have been. When I passed the general vicinity, I checked my watch and saw that we were nearly on target for just under 30 minutes. We needed to run our final mile in less than 9:30. Piece of cake.
As we turned to run south on High Street, I noticed about a quarter mile after the turn that there was a little sign on my right that said “Mile 2″. I didn’t think this could be right, but stated to Jerry, “if that sign is correct, we need to run this last 1.1 miles in 7:30.” Then we laughed, because that would not be happening. We were running together, and I was not comfortable that we could both do that. I wasn’t even sure I could do that without proper preparation.
So we kept our pace consistent, and rolled on towards the finish. The finish line banner loomed larger about 200 yards away and I looked at my watch again. 29:30 and counting. I turned around and told Jerry we had 30 seconds, thinking it might be possible. The next thing I know, he’s blowing past me to sprint to the line. I pulled in right behind him, and we cruised to the finishing chute. I clicked the ‘Stop’ button on my watch as we crossed the line, and looked down to see the results.
We walked wordlessly through the finishing chute, handed our bib information to the volunteers, and headed on to get our water and bananas.
Without turning around, Jerry said, “we didn’t meet our goal did we?”
“Missed by eight seconds,” was my reply.
We talked about thing for a few minutes, ran through the meaningless excuses, and decided that we would try again in a month or two. The Race for the Cure is a wonderful event, but very difficult to run a great time because of the large crowds. The fact that we made a decision to stay together made it even tougher to weave. But we’re not using these as excuses, we’re going to race a 5k in July and see what we’re made of. I can’t wait.
Atonement
I’m perfectly fine with the statement that I was not incredibly upset at not meeting our goal last Saturday. But I’m also not the type to let things go unchecked. I had Sunday scheduled for three miles, presumably to recover from the race the day before. As the Saturday race was pretty easy, I decided to go all out on Sunday and go for broke in a hard 5k.
I went out hard, kept it up through the second mile, and knifed my way through a vicious headwind in the last half mile. The only thing that slowed me even the slightest was the nausea I was experiencing with about a quarter mile to go. I was suspicious that if I kept up the pace I was running that one of my neighbors would have some projectile vomit in their front yard. I didn’t feel like ejecting my breakfast, so I slowed up just enough to keep things where they belong.
I crossed the finish line sucking wind, and fell into the grass in my front yard. I looked at my watch. It stared back at me, 23:23. Damn, that felt good.
Pain
I went out for an easy five on Monday night, and it was quickly apparent that all was not well in my right leg. My IT band had been slightly aggravating me the last week or so, but proper warm-up and cool-down procedures and stretching had kept things from getting too bad. What started as an uncomfortable run quickly progressed to painful, and for the first time in my life I not only cut a run short, I quit running and walked home. It was the smart thing to do, I’m sure, but it took a big bit of pride swallowing to switch from that painful hobble to a walk. A five mile run turned into a one mile run, and I rested the rest of the night (and got a very painful massage on my legs as well).
Tuesday I felt like I was 90% healthy, but decided that a day off here is better than a week or more off later. More ice and stretching were done, and by yesterday I felt back up to par.
Last night was a softball game, as is tonight. Tomorrow I’m scheduled at Equivita, so the earliest I’ll get back on the road will be tomorrow night or Saturday morning.
But I’m not worried. I’d rather get this stuff fixed now, than arrive in Nashville six months from now, hobbling around broken.
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05.12.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 10:06 pm by Andy
I mentioned in my last post that I would take a crack at 20 miles in the past week, something I hadn’t done since the week of October 15, which culminated in my half-marathon. As you can see from the chart below, I did it.
I’m pretty damn happy with that. I’ve worked my mileage up in a safe and steady manner since February, and I’m being rewarded with some nice workouts, feeling good and strong, and injury free (knock on wood).
If you look at the box in the bottom right of the chart above, you’ll see my total stats since I started running in late 2006. Tonight, I ran a little over 8 miles and clocked 1 hour and 20 minutes on my feet. This pushed me over the 100 hour mark since I decided I was going to be a runner. It’s not like I’m setting records or anything here, but I think it’s important to sit back every once in a while and take a look at how you’re doing and not be afraid to feel good about hitting some nice, round numbers. It’s a pretty number, and it makes me happy. Next topic.
My legs freaking hurt.
“Well, yeah, stupid. You’re running more than you have in almost seven months, it kinda makes sense.”
No, not like that. I got reacquainted with the leg press machine at Equivita on Friday night. I did some wonderful wide-leg / close-leg series, accompanied with squats of various sorts, and some hip work. Simply put, my hamstrings and glutes (read: ass) hurt so bad yesterday that I considered letting a tear slip when I fell back on my butt while folding laundry.
And strangely, running feels very damn good. How nice.
This upcoming Saturday is the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, which I’ll be running. I’ll be helping pace Jerry to a sub-30:00 finish, and then heading back to Equivita afterwards for some flippin’ pancakes! Maybe I’ll see you there. If you read this testimonial, I’d love to hear what you think.
Just look for this guy (I’m the guy on the left, but I won’t be wearing a bandanna. The guy on the right is the race director for the hell I’m going to endure in November. No, we did not call each other and color coordinate.):
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05.05.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 1:55 pm by Andy
Last week was busy, and tiring. After a week of two personal bests, a long run of seven miles in the rain, Tuesday came and I simply felt run down. Rather than push things too hard during the very early training phase, I took a rest day before two straight days of softball.
We won on Wednesday, and again on Thursday. Friday was spent visiting with family until late and Saturday was just a mess, which meant that I’d unintentionally made it six days between runs by the time I got out the door on Sunday morning. This is not how I’d intended things to go.
I was scheduled for eight, but decided to maintain things at seven miles since I’d done no “maintenance” work since my last run. It was slightly cool at the start, but I quickly warmed up, and realized much later that there is a major downside to having little hair (very little in some places): sunburn.
The major victory for yesterday was that seven miles felt very good. The first five were at an easy 10:30-11:00 per mile pace, but then my body said “go!”, so I did. Not sprinting, or even running hard, but just letting my legs run a little and stride out the last two miles of a comfortable run.
Tonight I’m on the hook for four, and I’ll at least get this, maybe push a little to five to make up for the nothing run on Saturday.
During my training session at Equivita on Saturday morning, Adam was asked (not by me), “why are you beating up his [my] legs, he has to run a lot this weekend?”
Adam’s response? Typical. “My goal for Andy is to make the marathon feel easy.” With that goal in mind, I don’t have a problem with the physical torture. I still have a problem seeing my way around perceived limitations, but I’m working on this.
More easy running on the schedule for this week. I’m thinking I may take a crack at going over 20 miles this week. I’ll see how the legs feel as the week progresses.
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05.01.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 3:40 pm by Andy
The scene is Monday evening. The day before, I’d pushed my long run back a day due to a lack of time, and it was getting to be close to 8:00 and the sand in the hourglass was running low on this day as well. I decided I’d waited the necessary amount of time after dinner to go for a nice 7-mile run, so I got ready and headed out.
It was colder Monday than Sunday had been, and rain was in the forecast. I had two long-sleeve layers on top, but still only shorts, no pants. I walked out the door and was instantly chilled. I decided that to ensure that I was properly ready for seven miles, I’d make sure I did my warm-up of about 6/10 mile to the usual starting point. I’d gotten about 100 yards from my back door, and it started sprinkling. Big fat rain drops intermittently pattering on my quickly balding head.
As I noted in my previous entry, I’d done some hard running last week, so this was to be a nice’n'easy seven miles. Nothing faster than 10:00 per mile. Turns out this ended up being as much of a mental exercise as a physical one. Why? Think about it this way: when it’s raining outside and you have a ways to go to get to your car, what do most people do to get to their door if they don’t have an umbrella/slicker/etc.? They run, and they run hard. By the time I officially started my run, it was a steady drizzle that did not let up for any of the next 75 minutes I was outside.
And by drizzle, I do not mean misting. I mean that everyone who was passing in their conveniently covered vehicles was using the ‘Normal’ setting on their wipers. Nobody even had their windows cracked so they could shout at me that I’m insane. Yeah, that kind of drizzle.
The last time I got caught in a rainstorm, I hightailed it back home. This time, I set the cruise control and enjoyed the flight. It’s so strange for me to enjoy being out in the chilly rain, but I had a blast. I wasn’t freezing, but felt comfortably cool. I was soaked, and for the last two miles my shoes and socks were squishing with each step. But I was happily propelled each step by thoughts of people who can’t run for some reason, thinking of family members who have passed on, and in general just splashing around like a three year old in a puddle. It was very enlightening.
As I was going through the warming up process at home after the run, two things became clear to me. First, it was colder out than I thought. It was 42 degrees, and with the windchill it felt like 34 degrees (plus, the rain). Secondly, I found that if my attitude can overpower a lot of discomfort. Seven miles is my longest run in over six months, it was cold, raining, and I’d run extremely hard about 24 hours earlier. And I felt great.
Some running friends of mine have gotten me to think about the mental aspects of running. They call it running “kung fu” style. Running by feel, working towards your goal, believing in what you’re doing. It sounds sorta “hippie-ish”, but damn if it didn’t work.
29 weeks, 3 days until I toe the starting line.
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04.27.08
Posted in Andy's living testimonial at 8:52 pm by Andy
I had a mile time trial schedule for this week, so I knew that there would be some hard running on the schedule. I didn’t know that I would add more later in the week.
I talked my friend Jerry into heading out to the track with me on Tuesday to run a hard mile. He went first while I timed him, and then I headed out to see how fast my legs could take me. My PR set in February was 6:54, and I thought I could do better. My plan was to head out at about 6:45 pace (about 1:42 per lap) and see if I could hold it.
This would be the first time I’ve run without my watch on my wrist to get instant feedback, since I’d given it to Jerry. I realized after I’d started that I didn’t ask him to tell me my times after each lap. I’d have to run this one based on feel.
I felt like I went out a little fast, and as I passed the line where Jerry was stationed, I yelled back to get my time.
“1:37,” he shouted.
It was confirmed, I did go out a little fast. I didn’t think I could maintain this for the next three laps, so I eased up just a bit. I didn’t have spare breath in either of the next two laps to ask for splits, and Jerry apparently wasn’t in the mood to help me out, so I was running blind, so to speak. I tried to keep a consistent effort from the second lap to the third, and I felt like I accomplished this fairly well.
The final lap there was another runner on the track who was catching up to me (he was quite a bit faster than me). When I had about 200 meters to go, I felt like he was 10-15 meters behind me, so I decided to redline the engine and go for broke. When I hit the line, I didn’t feel like I was completely gassed, but it felt like a significantly hard effort. I asked Jerry what the damage was.
“Your splits were 1:37, 1:41, 1:41 (my note: pretty consistent, indeed), and 1:28 for a 6:28 mile”
I gave a good effort and pulled 23 seconds off my previous PR (personal record). Not bad.
Wednesday and Thursday were softball activities, including a game which we won. Friday was family pizza night, so no running. Saturday was scheduled for an easy three miles. I pushed a little harder than “easy”, figuring today would be a long run and I’d just take it easy. I finished my 3.1 miles in 26:25 (avg pace 8:31/mile) and felt pretty good afterwards.
Today (Sunday) was supposed to be a long run of 7 miles. After a birthday party for Grandma, killing dandelions in the yard, and chainsawing down some branches in my front yard, I found myself with about 45 minutes before a late dinner. Not enough time for seven miles, so I instituted some flexibility in the schedule: flipping the long run to tomorrow and putting in a hard 5-k training run tonight.
I hadn’t had an Equivita training session this week, so my legs felt fresh enough to beat up again after the hard effort on Tuesday. I went out hard, kept things hard, and finished hard. I almost lost my lunch in my front yard, which would have been hilarious. I kept it together, looked down at my watch, and saw that I’d set my second PR in five days, this one at the 5 kilometer distance. Twenty three minutes flat. I’d taken 55 seconds off my 5K time. Sitting on my couch right now, I feel pleasantly exhausted. My back hurts from spraying weeds, and my legs are a little sore from running hard. A good weekend.
The next week will be all easy runs, with two softball games. The weather is heating up, and I’m getting to be outside and active most days of the week. Who’s complaining?
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