A personal example

As an example of what I've been talking about: last week, I ran a 5k here in Boulder (the Colder Boulder, winter analogue of the Bolder Boulder, though much smaller). I'd had a pretty difficult week, between school and my personal life, and wasn't even sure I wanted to run. When the morning dawned, it was windy, far from ideal conditions. I decided I'd be happy if I finished.

I felt good, and decided to go for it. Figured given the weather conditions, breaking 20 would be a good accomplishment.

I ran through the first mile in 5:47, feeling good. The second mile turned uphill, into the wind, and passed much more slowly. I had trouble breathing, because the wind was robbing me of air every breath I took. But I managed to get through the two mile mare at 12 flat, and decided then that I could pull of a sub-19 that day, a post-surgery PR for me. Any way, as soon as I said that, my breathing eased up, my legs loosened up, and I crossed the line at 18:58. And you know what? I felt amazing.

The next day I went out and ran the same pace for four miles, as I mentioned in another post.

In any case, here's a pic of me on my way to that PSPR:

Philosophical running

It was snowing this morning when I left to meet the BBTC group for our weekly long run. Fortunately, however, there had been little accumulation up till that point, so we could get our run in without worrying too much about injury.

Days like this are my favorites: temperature was about 25, a brisk but not annoying wind, snow falling steadily to heavily. I don't know what it is about the snow, but sometimes it makes me feel more like I'm flying than running. It seems as though, instead of moving, you are standing still, and the snow is flying towards you. The crunch of your footsteps on the frozen trail is the only sound in the world. It is one of my favorite experiences.

As usual for Saturday mornings, I ran with Jessica and Pete, leading to inevitable interesting conversations. I realized today just how much I enjoy running with the two of them, and with Jessica in particular. There was one point when, unintentionally, for about 5 minutes, none of us said anything, but our strides locked in step, so that instead of three footfalls each stride, it sounded as though there were only one person running. We kept up a healthy banter otherwise, and were remarkably casual about the run, stopping several times to decide which way we were going to head next. We reached a new level of camaraderie this morning, giving each other nicknames and just generally joking.

At one point, though, our conversation switched to a more philosophical note. I talked about the NYT article (see the previous post) and how important the mind is to running. From there, we moved on to the nature of reality, and our perception of reality. I mentioned my basic precept, my axiom as it were: "I am." Or "I exist." Going from there we discussed whether intelligence can in fact effect reality directly, without the intervening physical manifestation of a body movement or something similar. Can we, as humans, effect the reality around us purely by thinking? There is mounting evidence, some of a very scientific nature, some of pseudo-scientific, that suggests we can.

I personally am not sure. I'm a skeptical scientist by my nature, and I have trouble accepting that notion, but it does seem to be possible. What is certain, what we all agreed on, is that mental perception is very important. If you believe you can, or cannot, do something, it's very likely to be the case.

In that case, it's important, in athletics and in life as a whole, to cultivate a successful mindset. Or, to make a habit of success. "I can't" becomes an forbidden term, as far as achievement goes. Of course, this needs to be within reason, but a mindset of expecting to do well, expecting to run that PR, knowing you will run that PR, is critical in actually doing so.

Again: cultivate a successful mindset. Make success a habit.

Interesting Article

My mother sent me this article the other day, from the New York Times. I find it very interesting, and possibly useful. It's essentially on the power of the mind over the body, but there's far more to it than that.

December 6, 2007

Personal Best

I’m Not Really Running, I’m Not Really Running...

By GINA KOLATA

BILL MORGAN, an emeritus professor of kinesiology at the University of Wisconsin, likes to tell the story, which he swears is true, of an Ivy League pole vaulter who held the Division 1 record in the Eastern region.

His coaches and teammates, though, noticed that he could jump even higher. Every time he cleared the pole, he had about a foot to spare. But if they moved the bar up even an inch, the vaulter would hit it every time. One day, when the vaulter was not looking, his teammates raised the bar a good six inches. The man vaulted over it, again with a foot to spare.

When his teammates confessed, the pole vaulter could not believe it. But, Dr. Morgan added, “once he saw what he had done, he walked away from the jumping pit and never came back.”

After all, Dr. Morgan said, everyone would expect him to repeat that performance. And how could he?

The moral of the story? No matter how high you jump, how fast you run or swim, how powerfully you row, you can do better. But sometimes your mind gets in the way.

“All maximum performances are actually pseudo-maximum performances,” Dr. Morgan said. “You are always capable of doing more than you are doing.”

One of my running partners, Claire Brown, the executive director of Princeton in Latin America, a nonprofit group, calls it mind over mind-over-body.

She used that idea in June in the Black Bear triathlon in Lehighton, Pa., going all-out when she saw a competitor drawing close. She won her age group (30 to 34) for the half-Ironman distance, coming in fourth among the women.

When it was over, she ended up in a medical tent. “I felt like I was going to pass out or throw up or both,” she recalled. “At a certain point in a hard race, you’ve pushed yourself beyond the point of ignoring the physical pain, and now you have to tell your mind that it can keep going, too.”

The problem for many athletes is how to make a pseudo-maximum performance as close as possible to a maximum one. There are some tricks, exercise physiologists say, but also some risks.

The first thing to know, said Dr. Benjamin Levine, an exercise researcher and a cardiology professor at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas, is that no one really knows what limits human performance. There’s the ability of the heart to pump blood to the muscles, there’s the ability of the muscles to contract and respond, there’s the question of muscle fuel, and then, of course, there is the mind.

“How does the brain interact with the skeletal muscles and the circulation?” Dr. Levine said. “How much of this is voluntary and how much is involuntary? We just don’t know.”

But since most people can do better, no matter how good their performance, the challenge is to find a safe way to push a little harder. Many ordinary athletes, as well as elites, use a technique known as dissociation.

Dr. Morgan, who tested the method in research studies, said he was inspired by a story, reported by an anthropologist that, he suspects, is apocryphal. It involves Tibetan monks who reportedly ran 300 miles in 30 hours, an average pace of six minutes a mile. Their mental trick was to fixate on a distant object, like a mountain peak, and put their breathing in synchrony with their locomotion. Every time a foot hit the ground they would also repeat a mantra.

So Dr. Morgan and his colleagues instructed runners to say “down” to themselves every time a foot went down. They were also to choose an object and stare at it while running on a treadmill and to breathe in sync with their steps. The result, Dr. Morgan said, was that the runners using the monks’ strategy had a statistically significant increase in endurance, doing much better than members of a control group who ran in their usual way.

That, in a sense, is the trick that Paula Radcliffe said she uses. Ms. Radcliffe, the winner of this year’s New York City Marathon, said in a recent interview that she counts her steps when she struggles in a race. “When I count to 100 three times, it’s a mile,” she said. “It helps me focus on the moment and not think about how many miles I have to go. I concentrate on breathing and striding, and I go within myself.”

Without realizing what I was doing, I dissociated a few months ago, in the middle of a long, fast bike ride. I’d become so tired that I could not hold the pace going up hills. Then I hit upon a method — I focused only on the seat of the rider in front of me and did not look at the hill or what was to come. And I concentrated on my cadence, counting pedal strokes, thinking of nothing else. It worked. Now I know why.

Dr. Morgan, who has worked with hundreds of subelite marathon runners, said every one had a dissociation strategy. One wrote letters in his mind to everyone he knew. Another stared at his shadow. But, Dr. Morgan asked him, what if the sun is in front of you? Then, the man said, he focused on someone else’s shadow. But what if the sun goes behind a cloud, Dr. Morgan asked?

“Then it’s tough,” the runner conceded.

Dissociation clearly works, Dr. Morgan said, but athletes who use it also take a chance on serious injury if they trick themselves into ignoring excruciating pain. There is, of course, a fine line between too much pain and too little for maximum performance.

“The old adage, no pain no gain comes into play here,” Dr. Morgan said. “In point of fact, maximum performance is associated with pain.”

The brain affects everyday training as well, researchers note.

Imagine you are out running on a wet, windy, cold Sunday morning, said Dr. Timothy Noakes, an exercise physiologist at the University of Cape Town. “The conscious brain says, ‘You know that coffee shop on the corner. That’s where you really should be.’” And suddenly, you feel tired, it’s time to stop.

“There is some fatigue in muscle, I’m not suggesting muscles don’t get fatigued,” Dr. Noakes said. “I’m suggesting that the brain can make the muscles work harder if it wanted to.”

Part of a winning strategy is to avoid giving in to lowered expectations, athletes and researchers say. One friend tells me that toward the end of a marathon he tries not to look at people collapsed or limping at the side of the road. If he does, he suddenly realizes how tired he is and just gives up.

Marian Westley, a 35-year-old oceanographer in Princeton, N.J., and another running friend of mine, used several mental strategies in the recent Philadelphia marathon.

She slowed herself down at the start by telling herself repeatedly that she was storing energy in the bank. And when she tired near the race’s finish, she concentrated on pumping her arms. “I thought about letting my arms run the race for me, taking the pressure off my legs.”

She finished in three hours and 43 minutes, meeting her goal of qualifying for the Boston Marathon. “I am over the moon!” she wrote in an e-mail message the day after the race.

Wildlife and Fartleks

Yes, a strange title for the post this time. On Wednesday, the day following the famed hill workout, I went out for a 40 minute easy run, and I actually took it easy for once. I probably didn't run much more than 8 minute mile pace, and at some points slower than that. That was good, since my legs felt better after running than they did beforehand. In any case, about ten minutes into the run, I saw a flash of red in front of me. A fox had just run across the path in front of me. 20 seconds further on, another flash, and another fox. At about the halfway point, I saw some people stopped and looking up at the side of the foothills, which were looming as ever to the west. Stopping to see what they were looking at, I saw a huge herd of deer. By my count, there were 13: 12 does and fauns and one very successful buck. I'd not seen a herd of that size within Boulder before. Deer are a common sight here, but that many in one group impressed me. On they way back, I saw two hawks circling far above, and the two foxes once again crossed my path. It dawned on me how much I love this place.

Yesterday, which would be Friday, I woke up to slushy snow falling outside my window. Since I didn't have class till one, I opted to run in the morning. It was a fartlek workout. Fartlek means "speedplay" roughly in Swedish. I included a description below, courtesy of Ian Kemp. It is possibly my favorite type of workout. All the reasons I love it are included below. In any case, 5 minutes into the warmup, I realized, running through the falling snow with my shoes squelching each step, that there was nowhere I'd rather be and nothing I'd rather be doing at that time. That is a wonderful feeling, and I don't think most people experience it often enough. I count myself rich because I experience that regularly on my runs.

As I promised: the definition of a Fartlek. Of course, I prefer the Trail Running magazine definition: going for a run after eating beans.

What is Fartlek?

by: Ian Kemp

Fartlek is a form of road running or cross country running in which the runner, usually solo, varies the pace significantly during the run. It is usually regarded as an advanced training technique, for the experienced runner who has been using interval training to develop speed and to raise the anaerobic threshold. However, the 'average' runner can also benefit from a simplified form of Fartlek training, to develop self-awareness and to introduce variety into the training program.

For the advanced runner, the aim in Fartlek can be best decribed by relating it to interval training. The purpose of interval training is to develop speed by running for short distances at a speed significantly higher than the normal strong race pace, with these short runs separated by intervals of easy running or jogging. Intervals are normally run over predetermined distances, and usually on the track.

Fartlek is similar to interval training in that short fast runs alternate with slow running or jogging recovery intervals. However, in Fartlek the running is done on the road or on parkland or bush tracks. There is no predetermined schedule to follow, but instead the athlete will set her/his own interval lengths and pace in response to their own feeling of the workload. An advantage of Fartlek is that the athlete can concentrate on feeling the pace and their physical response to it, thereby developing self awareness and pace judgement skills. Also the athlete is free to experiment with pace and endurance, and to experience changes of pace.

It is primarily a technique for advanced runners because it requires 'honesty' to put in a demanding workload, and also 'maturity' to not overdo the pace or length of the intervals. With these qualities, Fartlek makes for an excellent component of a distance runners training programme.

A 'mild' form of Fartlek can also be of benefit for the 'average runner'. Here I am thinking of the road runner who normally trains over a variety of distance, at a fairly constant pace, and who may have done no or little specific speed training.

The technique here is to introduce into your normal runs some short periods of slightly higher pace. Maintain these for a short period, say 200-400m (aim for a bend in the road, power pole or some other landmark up ahead). Then drop your pace back below your normal running pace, or slow to a jog, until you have fully recovered and your breathing has returned to normal. Then return to running at your normal pace, and put in another slightly fast interval later in the run. In this way you are putting a slight extra stress on your system which will, in time, lead to an improvement in your speed and in your anaerobic threshold.

You can use this approach to develop more self-awareness, by concentrating on what you are feeling while running at the different paces. How fast a pace can you attain before your regular, easy breathing begins to be laboured? After slowing down, how long before your breathing & other responses return to normal? What happens to your stride length as you increase speed?

Give it a try next time you run, and if you enjoy it, then you have discovered the true meaning of Fartlek, without resorting to a dictionary..!

Ian Kemp, Cool Running Australia, 22.06.97

Breakthrough

So despite the hard workout and race the previous two days, my workout yesterday went quite well. I ended up running my coach ragged, which was unexpected. But at least I gave him a workout for once. 8x2min hills is a pretty tough workout for anybody, actually. I almost always feel like I'm about to puke by the end of it.

I was debating whether to even go last night. Here in Boulder, we had somewhere around 15-25MPH sustained winds with gusts up to 50+MPH. It literally threw you off balance when it gusted. The way we arranged the hills was a little odd, too. We ran with the wind up the hill . . . The wind pushed you straight into the hill rather than up it, but despite that, whenever a particularly impressive gust of wind caught you, you were suddenly moving faster than your legs would normally be carrying you. It was unnerving, actually.

The most difficult part, though, was that since you were running into the wind during your rest, you still had to work (even going downhill) just to keep moving forward. Wind that speed does the opposite of robbing you of breath: it forces air into your lungs. So during the workout, we never really got the chance to catch our breath.

Needless to say, I"m sore today. I don't think my arms have ever been this sore from a pure running workout. And I currently have difficulty walking up stairs on campus. Gotta love it!

Not tired enough

My legs are nowhere near tired enough after the race Sunday. While that makes sense because of the wind, they should be more tired than they are. I ran 4 miles yesterday in 24:34, which is about 6:08 miles. That's almost exactly the pace I ran on Sunday for the 5k. This also suggests that I'm peaking, and need to find a race to honestly peak for next weekend. It would be a shame to waste this.

On another note, I had another friend suggest I try to get sponsored yesterday. The first time someone told me that, I dismissed it. The second time, the person suggesting it was a pro mountain biker, and I took her a little more seriously. The third time, I can't really ignore it. Apparently, most sponsors are really looking for somebody who will show their product and label off often (ie who will run a lot of races) and I think I qualify on that point at the moment. As one friend put it, I "run like it's [my] job."

Sadly it's too late to do anything about it this year, but come next year I might look into it if I'm still running as much as I am currently.

Meanwhile, I got 18th or 19th out of 940 people Sunday. I'll take that, especially knowing I can run faster than I did.

About time

I had a good race today. Conditions were far from ideal, with maybe 10MPH sustained wind plus significant gusts. The way the course was set, the wind was into your face on the uphills, which made it that much more difficult. But I succeeded in breaking 19 minutes (by a few seconds). I also beat my roommate, and came in a little before the first woman (I edged her out in the last 50 meters).

The best part of the race, though, was my fan section. The course was such that people could see me at several different places on the course. The race was set up as an invite, based on your Bolder Boulder time from this spring. However, since I didn't run the Bolder Boulder, I was in the open race, and all of my running friends had finished the race already. Some of them stuck around for more than two hours after their race just to see me run. At one point on the course I had no fewer than 8 people yelling my name. I haven't had that since College, and it made a huge difference to me.

So thank you Jessica, Mark, Jeff, Rick, and the rest of you. I hope you noticed the surge of energy I got up that hill after passing you.

Why

"You must be a runner."

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"You have that voluntary corpse-like look of a runner."

That was a bit of what ended up being a very long conversation at a coffee shop some time ago. I was actually quite flattered. I've always been told I look like a soccer player, and for many years I was, but now that I'm more serious about running, I'm glad that I look it. That conversation ended with a question that I was not able to properly answer at that point: "why do you run?"

I get that question a lot, and it seems I never have a very good answer for it. "It's an addiction" or "I love it" just don't cut it for most people: they want to know why.

Well, I don't necessarily have one good reason, but there are a lot of things that running means to me and I thought I'd explain some of them today. I had an exceptionally good run today, and this all kind of flowed into my head at the literal and figurative apex of my run: the summit of Mt Sanitas, about half an hour into my 50 minute run.

Running means freedom. When I'm running, I still think about everything that's going on in the rest of my life, but I detach myself from them somewhat. I can think more clearly about them because they don't seem to matter as much while I'm running. Running matters, the rest is just a side note. It's both a freedom from and a freedom to. Freedom from the cares that I have all day, every day, and a freedom to think about them . I always do my best thinking on a run.

There's a quote from Once a Runner that I've always loved: "running to him was real. The way he did it was the realest thing he knew. It made him weary beyond comprehension, but it also made him free." And that's true. After a particularly difficult, or long, or successful, race or workout, I'm out of it for the rest of the day. I wander around in a daze, missing entire conversations because I can't focus. But there's an inherent freedom in it as well.

Running is like a meditation, too. On a long run, on my own, the miles just tick by without need for thought. My mind is completely unfocused, allowed to think whatever it wants, or nothing. Often, I'll go out for a long, easy run, only to lose track of both time and pace, to find that I've gone several miles farther than I was planning, much faster than I thought. And I come home from runs like that refreshed.

I told somebody once that running is my religion. In fact, I've told many people that. It's true to an extent. Running is the closest thing to a religion I have. I feel far more spiritual going for a long run on Sunday morning than I ever did sitting in church, trying not to fall asleep. I always thought that, though I'm an agnostic, if God did exist, it would be much happier seeing us use the tremendous bodies we have than sitting bored in church every Sunday.

To a certain extent, running parallels and reflects my life. There's a daily grind to it, just getting out and getting miles in every day. Then there's the hard days, where you go out, work your butt off, and end up exhausted, but fulfilled. And there's a third category. Those are the days where I run free, sudden bursts of speed, followed by a lethargic mile, and cruising a downhill at sub-5 minute pace (today I went a mile downhill in 4:30, that's faster than my PR in a flat out mile). It perfectly reflects how I live my life.

It's the feeling of not-quite restrained power in my legs whenever I move them. The feeling that, even if I'm tired from the workout, or any other reason, the day before, I could break out and run a quick 5:30 mile, just for the fun of it. Or do a shorter distance. I love feeling my muscles ready to spring at any moment. I feel like I have to restrain my legs constantly, lest they take off of their own accord and just bring me a long for the ride. More than anything, that's what I love about running.

Let's face it, I like being fast.

Long Runs with Vegetarians

With a little trepidation, I headed out Saturday morning for the group run I helped organize this week. I say a little trepidation because I was not convinced that my calf had returned to full health after pulling out of the 5k on Thanksgiving.

As it turned out, my calf felt fine throughout the run, which ended up being yet longer than we had planned. The first half of the run it was just Jessica and me taking off ahead of the rest of the group. Halfway through (around 45 minutes and 6 miles into the run), after we got lost, our coach Pete caught up with us and ran with us for the second half of the run.

It's amazing sometimes how much more three people will talk on a run than two. Usually Jessica and I have pretty good conversations, but adding Pete to the mix, there are no pauses any more, just a constant back and forth. The topic of the day this time was vegetarianism. Pete (who I found out was 38, would've guessed around 30, if that) has never had meat in his life. His parents raised him vegetarian, and now he has a mental block that won't allow him to eat meat. Jessica has been vegetarian since she was 14, by choice. I tried going vegetarian once. It lasted about two weeks. I like meat too much. The fact that I am allergic to milk and eggs in the first place meant that I had to go vegan, which makes everything far more complicated for me.

Our conclusions were that Pete is brainwashed, Jessica's a nut, and I'm normal. not sure how far I'd run with the "normal" bit, but I guess it works.

The final amusing part of the run came when , about 1:25 into the run, another runner. Now, this is a pretty rare occurrence for me and Jessica when we're running together, even here in Boulder. Just as the runner had not quite passed out of earshot, Jessica let out "What's up with that?"

Pete and I didn't stop laughing until after we got back to the car 5 minutes later. And let me tell you, running gets a lot more difficult when you're laughing that hard!

Turkey Trot

The CU Turkey Trot yesterday did not go so well for me. The third or so was excellent. I flew through the first mile in 5:45. I didn't believe them when they called off my time. It felt like I was going through at about 6:30, not because I felt slow, but because it felt so easy, as though I were floating along, not putting forth any serious effort at all.

Then, at a little over a mile, I took a turn at speed, and something twinged in my left calf. It took about 100 meters more to decide to listen to that little voice inside my head (sounding remarkably like my sister's) that said "this race isn't worth it" and pull out. I think I made the right call, in fact I'm certain I did, but it doesn't make it suck any less.

On the plus side, probably because I pulled out so promptly, my calf barely twinges at all today, and I should be able to do my normal Saturday morning long run tomorrow. This is good, considering that this week I am the one organizing it. There's no official training group meeting this Saturday, but a bunch of people wanted to meet any way. So I decided to set up a time and place where I would be, and let people know.

Here's hoping people show up. I know Jessica will at the very least.

I don't know if I mentioned this in my last post. If I did, I'm sorry for repeating myself. I woke up on Wednesday morning to five inches of snow on the ground (with a race the next day). It seems that winter has chosen to make his presence known in Boulder . . . Now come the days of tights, hats, and Yak Trax

Thanksgiving

It's not quite thanksgiving yet, but it's coming up in a couple days. Thankfully, I've been off school for the past four days now (if you count the weekend). My legs are feeling somewhat better than they were after my last race, and they just keep getting better. Saturday, I took a long run with Jessica. We ended up going about 10 miles in 70 minutes, and it felt easy.

At the end, Jessica accused me of pushing the pace a little, to which all the rest of the runners (who we had left behind about 30 yards into the run) started cracking up. They'd all seen Jessica take off and me follow to catch up with her, and those who had run with her before seemed rather incredulous. See, Jessica always, always takes off on the longer runs. Me, if somebody sets a pace, I just keep it, however fast it is. Either way, it was a good run full of good conversation.

I'm going in reverse order here a little bit, but last Tuesday was a good run too. 3 repeats of one mile at 10k pace, followed by 1 minute at 5k pace. I love workouts where you have to surge like that, and I believe that they help beyond measure when you're actually racing. Especially at the front of the pack, runners will surge, and knowing how and being able to respond to those surges is more often than not the difference between winning and losing. Watch the Tour de France some time, the same principle applies.

One more quick comment: on Tuesday, my coach decided that he'd "make a runner of [me] yet." Probably the biggest compliment I'll ever get out of him.

Outside of running, I've got a dinner party to go to tonight (I had to rearrange my workout around it!!! it's almost unheard of for me to do that). I recently acquired a guitar, which I am attempting to learn. I'm having way too much fun with it. And I'm off to Denver for Thanksgiving with a couple friends who I have not been seeing enough of lately. It should be fun.

Turkey Trot on Thursday.

Amazing

My big ambition my senior year of college was, as soon as I graduated, to start a run across the country. I didn't have any specific reason to do so, but I had planned my entire route, down to the mileage per day and where I could stay each night. I'd set up sponsors (or at least potential sponsors). I had a charity lined up to run for, support cars for the truly lonely and/or dangerous sections, and had everything ready to go.

The grand plan was to have my running clothes on under my cap and gown and, after getting my diploma and shaking the college president's hand, strip the cap and gown off, hand the diploma off to my sister, and take off out the door. Since I went to college in Maine, it was a feasible plan, too.

Unfortunately I pulled my hamstring that spring, and that took me out of track and all subsequent running for a full year. So my grand plan went down the tubes.

After all that: this guy puts me to shame. Long story, but well worth the read. It took him 13 years and two broken legs, but he circumnavigated the world, traveling some 46,000 miles, under his own power.

Burnt out

Just as the subject says.

I ran a 5k this weekend. And while I still ran sub 20, which is reasonably fast, I was completely burnt out and barely managed to finish the race. I went out in 5:50 for the first mile, but I couldn't follow it through. My time in the 5k was actually almost 40 seconds less than my split for the 5k in the race I ran last weekend.

I think this is a signal that I need to take a rest week this week. I'm supposed to do a hard workout tonight, but I probably won't be doing it. 3 times 1 mile at 10k pace followed by 1 minute at 5k pace doesn't seem like a good idea at the moment. I have a heavy race schedule coming up, including my first invite race, and if I want to do well in those, I need to give my legs a rest so they can be fresh again.

But, everybody has bad races, and it seemed that this particular race was a bad one for many. Hopefully the two other 5ks I have coming up will go better, assuming I do what I should and take this whole week easy.

A minor setback, in the scheme of things, but it will certainly give me more motivation for my next race.

Did it

I ran a 39:18 in the 10k this morning. And at the end, I felt like I could have run the half marathon at that pace. But, I accomplished my goal for the morning, and my legs still feel like I could take a decent run tomorrow. Next time I may go for as low as six flat mile pace, but we'll see where I am at that point.

So apparently, this means I am recovering (still) quite well from my broken leg last year. I continue to make improvements every time I race. Unfortunately, this also means I've left my training partner, Jessica, somewhat behind. I don't know that I can push myself hard enough to improve and still train with her a lot of the time. We shall see.

Also, congrats to my friend Sonya. After training, somewhat halfheartedly, for about a month, she ran a 1:33 in her half today. Ridiculous. I'm jealous.

My legs have arrived

And at just the right time, too. I've been tapering this week. Monday I did a 10k in 45 minutes, and it felt easy, which bodes well for Saturday morning. Tuesday I took off. Yesterday I did a little speed work to keep the legs moving, and today is another off day. Tomorrow will be a short, easy run and some striders just to keep the legs fresh.

And fresh is what they are. Despite the lack of sleep last night (it was halloween, and a great halloween it was, too), I got up this morning and have far more energy than I usually do. Now all I really have to do is keep it from exploding too soon.

I read an interesting technique for this on the runner's lounge blog, where the blogger suggested "looking down," as it were. That is, watching your legs and only paying attention to them, rather than to any other runners, or even the course (too much). It makes sense. I am known for blowing myself out the first mile (going out in 6:20 where I was trying for 6:45 the first mile of my last 10k) and if I want to run a good race Saturday, i can't afford to do that. My major problem is that, in general, I really hate to be passed doing anything. The one time I've been perfectly fine with it was on a bikeride, going up flagstaff, where Tyler Hamilton blasted past me on the hardest portion of the uphill. I figure that's an ok person to have pass you.

In any case, the times I do pay attention and not go out too fast, I usually manage to run negative splits for most races short of the half marathon distance, and that's my goal for Saturday.

So, notes to self: go out slower than you think you should, run your own race, and run negative splits.

That should just about do it.

Are you a runner in Boulder?

If you're interested and in the Boulder area, the Bolder Boulder training group (bbtc) is now taking registrations for their holiday training program.

I've been training with the BBTC for the last four months, ever since my doctor cleared me to run again, and not only have they helped me recover from my series of injuries, they've put me back far ahead of where I thought I'd be at this point. It's a great group of people (we're off to the bar tonight for our final party) and the coaches are quite impressive themselves. Training director Ewen North just won the other half in Moab a few weeks ago. Another coach was a top finisher in the Kona Ironman. And a third (the wife of the previously mentioned ironman) just received a gold medal in the world Duathalon championships.

In any case, I highly recommend the program. I believe if you register now it's still $119 for the next three months of training. If you're interested in improving your times for longer distances (5k up) or if you're just interested in finishing the race, whatever your pace, whatever your fitness level, I highly recommend the BBTC.

Hangover Cure

Running remains the best hangover cure I've ever found. Sunday morning, slightly hung over from the rather interesting night before, I woke up late for me (ie 8 in the morning) and stumbled outside for the morning run. The first mile or so was pretty wretched, but as I got moving, the legs, and head, felt better, and I started to take off. About two miles from my house, I turned the same direction as another morning runner. Naturally, as such things do, we started pushing the pace a little bit. 13 minutes and a little over two miles later, he gave in and turned down another street, slowing down.

Meanwhile, I felt amazing, and continued, albeit slightly slower, for the remaining mile of my run.

In other news, I opted to register for the 10k rather than the half marathon for this weekend. It'll be interesting to see what I can do, as I've only raced one 10k (at sea level) in my life. With any luck, one of my training partners will run too, and we can pace each other.

Moonlight run

Possibly the best run I've ever had. Perfect weather: clear, crisp, and fresh. The sun was going down over the foothills as we headed out. Legs felt amazing, Jessica took off, and we followed. A 30 minute run switched before long to a 52 minute run.

We turned around the same place we did on Saturday for an hour run, and it still felt good.

Our way back was lit by the full moon, most often to our right as we headed north. At one point, there were four deer pacing us for a few yards before turning off into the field. 2 miles out from our cars, we came up behind two riders on horseback, first mistaken for a pair of spruce trees, then gradually materializing into animals.

Through the tunnel under highway 36, it felt like a different world, the literal light at the end of the tunnel. For a few moments, it felt like I was not going forward, merely drifting to the right, while running in place. Finally, even with the moon lighting our way, it was hard to see where we were putting our feet, but we cruised on nonetheless, back into the parking lot where the rest of the runners were wondering where we'd been.

What a crazy amazing run. The run of a lifetime.

Less than two weeks

I race again on the 3rd of November. I haven't decided yet whether to run the half marathon or just do the 10k that goes along with it. Part of me wants to race the half, because the Golden Leaf didn't exactly give me the opportunity to get a decent time. As my friend and training partner just ran a 1:30:08 in the Denver Half to win her age group, I'd rather like to see what I can do. On the other hand, I don't want to wear myself out too much. My winter training program starts soon, and I want to run the Rock'n'Roll Phoenix in January. Plus, I think I could probably race a decent 10k and recover more quickly.

Meanwhile, I've continued my three run per weekend routine, running twice on Saturday and again on Sunday (in the snow!). I think the first snow of the year is always my favorite run, despite the fact that I always, always overheat. There's something peaceful about it, even when the wind is gusting at 45mph.

On another note, I've been working on my form a lot lately. My coach wants me to run up on my toes more, with almost no heel striking. I've been doing it, and I think it's actually working. Part of it is certainly my training increasing my fitness, but I've been completing my "normal" runs a lot faster than I used to, setting PRs on all of my normal loops. While this seems to be working, running further forward on my feet means that my calves are constantly tighter and more sore than they usually were before the switch. It's proven difficult to continue doing my normal biking commute and walking around town even. Hopefully this will go away fairly soon, or at least in the next month or so, but in the meantime, ouch.

Continuing with the "running forward" theme, I'm also considering trying out the Newtons, which are designed to force you to run further forward. I'm debating when to do this. My shoes are getting close to wearing out, but I don't want to switch to the Newtons right before a race. Add to that the fact that the Newtons are almost twice as much as my regular shoes, and you see the problem . . .

Lots to think about. Meanwhile, an hour overdistance today, followed by an interval workout tomorrow.

2 a day

On Saturday, I ran twice in one day for the first time since college. And as far as I can tell, there were no ill effects.

Saturday morning's run was somewhat unsatisfying. My normal training partner was not there, as she was to run the Denver half the next day. Incidentally, she won her age group with a 1:30 half. So congrats to her. In any case, since she wasn't there, I ended up running with a slower group (as a "coach," though I am not officially). While it was fun to run and talk with them, it was also much slower than my normal overdistance pace. So I got to the end of an hour run feeling like I hadn't run at all. I got a job offer out of the deal, though, so it's not all bad.

So, the long and the short of it is that I ended up feeling like I needed a run later in the day. So at about 6:30 (when it was already getting dark) I opted to join my roommate for his run. I probably only ended up with 10 or 11 miles on the day, but it was, as I said, the first time in several years that I'd done two (running) workouts in the same day.

Sunday I was a subject in my friend's PhD research, which consisted of walking on a treadmill while being pulled forward or other directions. It was surprisingly difficult, though that was mainly because of the tube I had to breath in and out of in order for her to collect metabolic data.

I ended up going for a very brief run that day. I was actually quite tired, but I think that was more from the walking that morning than the two runs the day before.

Jelly Legs

My legs are definitely not all there this morning. This would not be so bad if it weren't for the fact that they've been like this for two days now. On Tuesday, we did 400 repeats in the bbtc. I surprised myself somewhat by doing 10 of them between 1:15 and 1:20, and still feeling like I could do more. Granted, given how my legs feel now, I'm glad I didn't, but it did feel like my legs had finally shown up to work again after my half marathon a few eeks ago.

Yesterday, my legs were so sore that I ended up biking instead of running, for the first time since the day after my race. What started as a simple, easy bike ride turned into some rather fun single track mountain biking up north of Boulder. The primary accomplishment yesterday was that I put my shoulder through more than I probably have since my surgery, and it performed quite well. Didn't even hurt. My left shoulder is still giving me trouble, but I think that will happen until I have the same operation on that one that I did on my right. My plan at the moment is to put that day off as long as possible, and get some good races in in the meantime.

After the ride, I finally put up the practice board for my bouldering training. I've lost so much of my upper body with all the running I"ve been doing that i felt positively weak trying the thing out, but I trust that will fade as I use it more. At one point, I could do 30 pull-ups non-stop. Right now, I'm lucky if I can do 5. But, that also means less weight I have to carry on my runs. It's a tossup.

Today's workout: 20 minute tempo run, probably around 7 min pace, so nothing too difficult. Only thing is, I have to get it done before 6PM so that I can get to the tapping at the walnut . . .

Running rules my life, but I guess beer comes in a close second.

Countdown to my next race: 23 days.

Background

So, as is normally done in the first post of a blog, I thought I'd give a little background about both myself and the blog. So here goes:

I'm a 20 something runner, currently living in Boulder, appropriately, and attending grad school at CU. At this point, I have raced most distances from high jump (though that's not really a race) through the half marathon. In high school I was a sprinter, decent enough to make captain of the track team for a small school my junior and senior years. I ran the 100, 200, and 400 mostly, and also competed in the long jump (19'3" was my best jump). I took several years off in college, returning to run as a middle distance runner my senior year indoor season, where I ran the 800 and 1000m. I was, as is now unsurprising, sidelined by a hamstring injury for the outdoor season, and did not run any sort of long distance for about 8 months.

Since moving out to Boulder, I have been inconsistent. A year and a half into my time here, I was again sidelined by a dislocated shoulder that required subsequent surgery last November. Around the time that was declared healed enough for me to run and bike again, I broke my leg. The long and the short of it is, I was unable to run until the end of May this year, and have subsequently been rebuilding, working on building a base and getting some races under my belt. Since mid-August I have run a 10k (41:53 TT), two 5ks (19:29, good enough for 3rd in my age group in one), I ran the Pearl Street Mile in 5:17, which is about 40 seconds off my PR, and the Golden Leaf Half Marathon in Aspen in 1:50, food for 37th place.

The next race on my schedule now is the Heart Center of the Rockies Half Marathon, on November 3rd. With any luck, I'll post a sub-1:30 time and go from there.