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.