The Value of Adversity

By just about anybody's definition, this week has been cold. Monday through Wednesday, my runs took place in below zero temperatures. After a brief respite on Thursday and Friday, it dropped again this morning, with a 1:45 run in 0 degree temperatures with a 15 mph wind.

I ran outside every day this week. It took a bit of mental effort each day to get out the door into the cold, but I didn't regret it once.

Part of that is simply that I know how to dress for this weather. As my friend's dad, and others, have said: "There's no such thing as bad weather, just insufficient clothing." I've heard it with "preparation" in place of "clothing" as well, but the sentiment remains the same. As long as you're ready for it, cold weather doesn't have to force you indoors.

Besides that mental push to get out the door, though, I have always found that I thrive in this sort of weather. Once I get out the door, the cold ceases to be a barrier and becomes more of an adversary. It gives me something to run against, and I always feel great when I come back in from the cold.

The other aspect of it is, for me, the cold is beautiful Wednesday morning, in 0-degree temperatures, in the space of ten steps, I saw three bright red  male cardinals and a brilliant Blue Jay in a stretch of Lilac trees I run through most days.

Today was arguably the biggest test. I woke up to 0 degree temperatures with -20 windchill, with my longest run yet of the training cycle scheduled for the morning. I will admit to being a little apprehensive, despite the successful week of training in the cold. My prior cold outings had been less than 45 minutes. Extending that out by an hour seemed daunting at best. I gave myself the option of cutting the run short if I decided it was too much.

Quite the opposite happened. Today was my best run so far. While I was initially sore from the week, and from ice skating the night before (those stabilizer muscles are getting a workout), I felt stronger as the run went on. A bit more than an hour in, I had fully honed in on the elusive "zone,"  and was actually picking up the pace at the end of the run.

Sometimes that happens. And sometimes life throws a wrench your way, as it would later in the week.

Tough Turkey and Gobble Gallop Race Reports

My fiancee and I decided to head up to Duluth and celebrate Thanksgiving with my parents this year. After some consideration, we decided to go up the night before: that way, we could sign up for the Gobble Gallop Thursday morning. Unfortunately, while I successfully signed G up for the Gobble Gallop 5k, I accidentally signed myself up for the accompanying Tough Turkey 1 mile, which would take place 20 minutes before the 5k. 

Since the organizers are two friends of mine from church growing up (I can’t remember meeting them), I figured there would be no issue signing up for the 5k as well as the 1 mile. My training plan called for a 1 mile time trial and a 20 minute time trial, and while it also called for a few days’ rest between them, I figured this might work for both. 

True to my expectation, there was no issue at all signing up for an additional race last-minute. My friend Grant, completely overestimating my abilities and fitness level, asked me if I was going for the course record, which is pretty “soft” at a little over 15 minutes. 

After my last 5k, I wasn’t quite sure where I would end up in these races. I knew that my time between races would basically be a run back to the car to switch up my race numbers before jumping back out on the course for the 5k, so I decided to take it as a warm up for the 5k, and just see how it went. With the last-minute signup for the 5k, I didn’t have much time for a warm up in any case, so I figured there was no chance of a decent time or position in the mile. I opted to shoot for a sub-6 mile (which I figured should feel easy) and a sub-20 5k. Given my relative lack of serious training, I thought those would be good targets. 

My goal for a slowish start in the mile turned out to be unavoidable: the front of the field was packed with somewhere around 30 children sprinting off the line. One younger guy from NDU took off in the lead (he was running both the mile and the 5k as well), and several others tried to stick with him. Rather than race, I opted to settle into a fast cruising speed and wait for a while. The course was an out and back, starting from Duluth Running Company on London Road before veering left onto Superior street to the turnaround around Fitgers. All along Superior Street, I was feeling comfortable at around 6 minute pace, gradually reeling in runners who had started too quickly. With the final drop back onto London Road, I figured I’d kick it up a notch and bring it home at higher speed. 

Turns out, that worked out pretty well, and I cruised home in third at around 5:53 on the watch. One part I had not expected was the pure number of people cheering for me by name in the home stretch. I guess that’s what happens when you race in your hometown for the first time. As it turns out, two of those cheering were my parents, who showed up in time to see me finish. Since I had very little time, though, I crossed the finish line and just kept running the three blocks to my car to switch numbers for the 5k. Unfortunately, this left my parents very confused behind me. 

Fortunately, that went quickly, thanks in large part to G meeting me with my number in hand. After a quick run back to the car (again) to retrieve my gloves, I lined up in the 3rd row of about 2000 runners (!) who showed up on what had fast become a cold, slightly windy, slightly snowy Thanksgiving morning. There was no gun, just the announcer counting down (if I remember correctly), and unfortunately, in the process of getting under the starting arch with 2000 other people, I must not have crossed the timing mat. 

As ever, I started a little too quickly, but not out of the realm of sanity, and I quickly corrected and settled into a solid 6 to 6:10 pace down Superior Street. I say “down,” because the first section of Superior runs downhill to Lake Ave, before a slight uphill for 5 blocks to the turnaround at 5th Ave West. I slowed down just a bit on the uphill, but I was starting to steadily reel in more runners who had started just a bit too quickly. 

The fatigue started to hit me just a bit at around 2 miles into the 5k, or about 5k into my racing for the day. This was the first point where I had to concentrate at all on my pace, and I let it slip for just a few meters. For the entire race, I had been just behind the lead woman (“Anna,” who many other runners knew by name), and I passed her around 2 miles into the race, only to be passed by another woman.  Still, I was passing runner after runner who had apparently overestimated their fitness. As it turns out, another friend of mine from church growing up ended up as 2nd woman, some 5 seconds behind me. 

Once again, I kicked it up at the turn onto London Road, which is around 300 or so meters from the finish. Despite the brief moment of fatigue at 2 miles, I still felt pretty good at the end of the race. The large number of people cheering me by name (again), at the finish area help as well. At the end, I crossed the line at 19:30 on the watch, feeling like I could have run a good 45 seconds faster without too much difficulty. 

After finishing, I got the chance to talk with Grant a little bit as I walked over to the tent to grab some coffee and warm up a bit. He seemed a little surprised that I was back as far as I was, having more confidence in my abilities than I do myself. And thinking on it, perhaps he was right. I think I get too focused on where I think I should be, or what I think I can do, and don’t let myself achieve what I’m capable of. The fact that I can rattle off a 19:30 5k less than 20 minutes after finishing a (decently) fast mile gives me some confidence, particularly given the training I’ve been doing. 

Coffee now in hand, I proceeded to walk back along the course to find my fiancee in the crowd of runners still racing. True to form, she had jumped into the race on a whim, with no training, and with the goal to have fun before settling in for Thanksgiving. True to our last Turkey Trot-style race, I ran back along the course and took the chance to run/walk in with her, which for me is usually the favorite part of the race. 

Thinking ahead, I think I might still do a few more shorter races in the next few months. I’d forgotten how much fun I have with them, and how little they really interfere with the rest of my training. I’m also considering entering a number of shorter trail races over the next year (short here meaning anything below about 25k, or around 2 hours or shorter). 

My sights remain set on the Border Route Trail for next fall, however. 

Race Report: Tiger Trail 5k

A few weeks ago, on a whim, I signed up for a race: a 5k that came up in the Minneapolis Running monthly race calendar, run as a fundraiser for a local nordic ski team. At 5k, it was 1/4th of the distance of my shortest race since moving to Minnesota two years ago, and less than 10% of my longest race to date. But, it seemed like a fun course, for a good cause, and more importantly I thought it might get me pumped up for running again. 

Going into the race, I was feeling pretty fast, given my low level of conditioning. I was hitting 5:30 pace in striders and intervals without noticing the effort all that much, though the intervals were never longer than a block or two. My short tempo runs had all ended up at under 7-minute pace for 3 or 4 miles. I figured I could probably run a decent 5k in under 20 minutes.

I was wrong. 

Getting to Theo Wirth Park on Saturday morning, I saw the ski team running around and goofing off (as they do). I started to think that I was about to get my ass handed to me by a bunch of high-schoolers (pardon my language). I was none too concerned about this, as I was anticipating this somewhat even before I showed up. It is a bit of an ego blow, even so. 

The course itself, as I saw on a preview lap, was set up in a double-loop pattern, just over half a mile per loop. Even warming up, I realized that this was not going to be a fast 5k, since it took place on short, steep hills on a winding course. I figured I might still be able to hit 20-21 minutes, given a decent effort. 

I didn’t. 

With a blowing of vuvuzelas, the race was on. I quickly realized that, though I was unlikely to be the first one home, I was going to be in the top 5, as me, 3 high schoolers, and the RD distanced ourselves from the rest. My primary goal for this race was to run as even as possible throughout, while still giving a good effort. This equated to running with the RD for the vast majority of the race. 

I felt reasonably comfortable with the pace, as I should have. I ended up running just 20-30 seconds per mile faster than I did at the Night Lights half marathon last year, coming in at 22:50 for 3.2 miles, for my slowest 5k ever at about 7:09 pace. My mile splits were 7:07, 7:17, and 7:13 (though they can’t be directly compared). I wish now that I had taken splits at the laps as well, so I could compare more directly. 

All in all, though, the race served its purpose. These small, almost neighborhood level events are the ones that I seem to enjoy the most. Before, during, and after the race, the adults in the group were consistently introducing themselves to me and asking about me. The race itself rekindled my running fire, and in the days since I have been focused even more on my training and getting back into form. 

Coming back

It has been a long process for me coming back from this particular injury. It hasn’t gone as well as it did last summer when I had IT band issues, but my PT thinks that’s because it was never really about my  IT band and my gluteus. More likely, it was about several different muscles not activating correctly. First, my left abdominals were not activating fully, and my left leg was not doing the same share of the work as my right leg (this is where the gluteus actually comes in). After working for a few weeks to correct that, I went back, and she discovered that my right Psoas muscle was not activating to swing my right leg forward during my left stance. 

If you’ve read this blog for a while, you might remember that, two years ago or so, I had  scare where several doctors thought that I had appendicitis, but in fact I had pulled my right Psoas muscle. The assumption now is that it never “restarted” after that injury. 

On the plus side, that means I have an actionable issue that I can work on. Combined with working on my left stance and working on my foot strike (always), I’m hopeful that I can get back to full on training in the next month or so. At the moment, I am running up to three miles, 2 out of every 3 days (though I sadly missed today, I will make up for it tomorrow). 

For the first time, though, I am attempting to put together a general long-term training plan. I’m using a variety of resources for this process. At the moment, I am focusing on “Training for the New Alpinism.” While it’s written for Alpine climbers, it has a lot of good general training information that I think will also be very useful for my running, including strength and technique training as well as general aerobic training suggestions. 

Adding to that, I’m going to incorporate the general structure from The Cool Impossible, at least for the first 12 weeks or so (which would constitute the Transition and some of the Base period of the Training for the New Alpinism plan). As I recall, it worked really well for me last time, and I’m hoping it can do some of the same for me this time as well. I’m hoping that with a little more cross training, in the form of biking and climbing, and a little more strength training, in the form of general strength training and climbing, I will be able to get through this year without any more injuries. 

My goals remain generally the same for the coming year. I’d like to get more actual racing in this year, primarily at the half marathon and lower distances. I want to keep my primary goal as the Border Route Trail, sometime in either the spring or the fall. Added to that, I definitely want to add in more self-propelled adventuring, now that I have a sweet bike that I had custom built. I would like to use that on my planned ascent (and subsequent descent) of Eagle Mountain in northern MN. 

At this point, I’m still a little discouraged, and I still go out on each run worried that my right leg might act up again. But I’m feeling more and more hopeful as the days go by and I don’t get the same seizing sensation that I got previously. There might just be hope for me yet. 

Summer Running

It has been a decidedly up and down summer of running for me. 

I kept mostly to a low-heart rate training plan for much of June and July, gradually adding in some more intense efforts as my training progressed. During a family vacation at the beginning of the month, which corresponded to a low-mileage week (by design). After the down week, I jumped straight back into it, running 41, 37, and 42 miles over the next several weeks as I tried to ramp my training up for the 50 miler in September. And it felt pretty good over all. 

The next week, however, I was out in Pittsburgh for my job. I had run twice the Saturday before, totally 21 miles with a 13 mile night run, but was feeling pretty solid over all. I had a slight twinge in my right leg (ankle and glute) that I was hoping would shake itself out with an easy run on Monday. This twinge had first started a couple weeks before after a 9 mile hard effort in Duluth. 

Unfortunately, though I managed over 20 miles in the course of my three runs in Pittsburgh, the twinge just got worse and, on what was planned to be a 20 miler the Sunday after, I quit after a mile and a half. 

This past week I have not run at all.

My belief is that this stems from the ankle I severely tweaked in the Superior 25k this spring, and subsequently did not n any way rest or allow to heal. I've heard before of this sort of issue causing misfiring in the glute as well. So this past week I have been focusing on rolling out my legs, doing low-impact strength work, and generally taking it far easier than I have been. I'm hoping that, with a week's rest, I can return to training over the course of a week. 

I'm somewhat wondering if I want to. 

I love running, and I love racing, and I fully intend to keep doing both. But I think I've focused to much on training for races, and not enough on running the way I like to: freely  and for the joy of it. This was easier to do in Colorado, because I could just run up and down a mountain (something I dearly love to do) and that would double as training. 

I think I need to find something similar that I love to do while running here. Even if that means (gasp) running lower mileage over all. I think I will be better for it. I also want to mix in other types of movement with my running. I've been doing that somewhat, stopping to do pullups and other exercises during my runs. I think I need to take it a step farther: driving to the river if necessary and playing down in the woods. I have been doing a little more climbing lately, and hope to continue that. I think if I find the joy I have in movement again, and mix that into my running, I will be better off than I am now, simply running to get the miles in (even if I still enjoy it).

Three Solid Weeks (And I need to take more pictures)

Let me start by saying that I am tired. 

The last three weeks have been as solid as I could ask for, punctuated by three separate, excellent longer runs. I’ve stuck entirely to not eating carbohydrates before I run. I have also stuck for the most part to 180-age heart rate according to what is being called the Maffetone method. I’ve let myself off the leash, so to speak, four total times in the past three weeks, and I think I’m seeing good results. 

Two weeks ago on Saturday, I had what is probably my best run since moving to Minnesota at Afton state park. Roughly 30 seconds after I started running, the skies opened up and the rain came pouring down. Within a minute, I was soaked to the skin, grinning like and idiot, and, though my legs had felt a bit heavy just seconds before, I knew it was going to be a great run. 

I didn’t push the pace at first, but I felt good enough that the miles seemed to flow from one to the next as the rain waxed and waned. But after completing the north section (10.5 miles or so) of the 25k loop I’d planned for the day, I still felt good, so kicked it up a couple notches for the flats along the train grade along the river. I must have really cruised, because despite the minor inconvenience of a downed tree across the trail, I still managed fourth overall on the section. 

Still feeling good, I pushed up and over the Meat Grinder and onto the snowshoe loop. I didn’t quite PR for the entire loop, but since I didn’t push the pace for most of it, I feel pretty good about it. 

The following week it got hot. Sticking to the 148 heart rate was difficult, and required an extreme drop of the ego, but I managed it, and on nine straight days of running felt good going into the weekend. 

Friday night was stormy and rainy, so I ran on the bike paths around the River Gorge Loop on Saturday, running one at a quick pace, and the second at an even faster one. Despite 75 degree temperatures with 75% humidity (ow), I ended with 5.5 miles in 38 minutes. It felt fast, but not painfully so. 

Following that up on Sunday, I ran 10k in Battle Creek, attacking the uphills and relaxing the rest of the time. This park is an entirely different place in the summer, with lush prairie grasses almost overcoming the trail at many points. That little detail led to a certain paranoia regarding the number of ticks I was sure I was picking up. Even so, it was a gorgeous site, with early summer wildflowers in full bloom. I caught one young buck deer less than ten feet from me, hidden up to the neck in tall grasses. At my feet, I kept getting little flashes of brown and black as what I assume were shrews or voles dashed across the trail in front of me. All in all, a second excellent run for the weekend, and all the better training for taking place on tired legs. 

Another consistent week of training, and heat adaptation, followed. I took Monday off, but ran seven on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and 5.5 on Friday for a good total heading into the weekend. Saturday I headed out to Afton again, hoping for a solid, three hour run, picking up the effort a bit on the hills again. 

But this run had a twist: I wanted to run without gels. To replace that, I had exactly 1.25 ounces of beef jerky. 

Added to the top of that, it was hot. 

I opted to run the north half of the 25k loop twice, or near to, seeing where I was when I reached the bridge over the campground trail (if you don’t know the route, this is probably confusing, but if you’re a trail runner in the Twin Cities, you probably get what I’m talking about). From there, I’d see where I was time wise and either head up the campground loop or shortcut to the car. 

The first loop around went really well, all told. I felt powerful on the uphills, quick and relaxed on the flats, and smooth on the downhills. Before I knew it, I had cruised up to the top of the campground loop and was filling my water bottles. As a side note, I highly recommend the new Body Bottles + (a Hydroflask product) sold by Ultimate Direction as a complement to their vests. The big mouths make filling them easy, they fit well in the vests, and they are much more comfortable than the normal bottles. I was a little concerned about how easy or difficult it would be to get them in and out of the front pockets, but it turned out to be very easy. 

At this point, my watch usually shows about 10 miles. I had discovered that morning that packing the night before works really well, as long as you remember to pack EVERYTHING the night before. I had forgotten to pack my watch, so was relying on my phone. At this point, it said 9.5 miles gone. I am pretty sure the watch is more accurate, or at least I’ve used it there more times and it is pretty consistent. 

Nevertheless, having filled my bottles and wetted down my cap, I took off again for my second loop. Somewhere in the trout brook loop, I briefly felt a little off, but miraculously a few bites of beef jerky seemed to do the trick, and I continued to feel good all the way down, and then up, the dirt road and over the hump. 

In fact, I felt good the whole day. While I could feel the fatigue set in, this being after all my longest run since the Icebox race, I never felt horrible. And though I didn’t get in a second campground loop, at the end of the run my phone said 18.7 miles and 2:56. With the fudge factor, I’d give it 19-19.5 miles, for a very solid three hour trail run. 

That, I picked up my brother at MSP and opted to spend time with him instead of taking a follow-up run today. While that would have pushed my weekly mileage over 50 for the first time in a while, spending time with my family is always solidly more important than any single run to me. 

Now What?

(Note: I started writing this a week after the Superior 25k, and finished it much more recently)

With the Superior 25k over and done with, I actually have very little on the horizon in terms of racing. I have the Warrior Dash on July 11, and the Superior 50 mile on September 12, and that’s all at the moment. I have my sights on the Border Route Trail still, as well as Eagle Mountain. 

So what now? 

Back to base period, I think. 

50 and 65 miles are so much farther than I’ve ever run before (15 and 30 miles farther, to be precise) that I need a strategy to cope with it. 

Changing tacks a little bit, I’ve seen quite a bit of research and writing lately on training your body to more efficiently burn fat. There are a number of strategies for this, ranging from the mild, and likely less effective, to the extreme (and nearly impossible). 

At its simplest, you simply make sure that your heart rate stays low throughout your whole run. The usual formula for this is 180bpm minus your age. For most people, this also requires a significant ego-check, as it often requires walking up hills, and a significant reduction in overall pace. 

Chris McDougall, in his newest book “Natural Born Heroes,” suggests a much more extreme method, put forward by Phil Maffetone. This method requires you taking carbohydrates out of your diet entirely (or as much as is possible) for two weeks, while keeping to the 180-age heart rate method. This is intended to reset your body’s desire for carbohydrates while simultaneously improving its ability to metabolize fat for fuel while running. 

I chose to take a middle of the road approach. I run in the morning, so rather than taking carbohydrates out of my diet entirely, I simply do not eat any before I run in the morning. Supposedly, this should start me in a carbohydrate-depleted state, allowing my body to more immediately switch to fat-burning. 

Let me tell you, this is hard. Not in the sense that it’s difficult physically, rather it is really important to stick to that target heart rate maximum. For me, that’s 148. Supposedly, since I’ve been training regularly for more than 2 years and am improving my PRs still, I have a 5 bpm fudge factor. To be certain I’m not tapping into any carbohydrate fuel, though, I have been staying below 148. 

This has required me to drop my pace a bit (not as much as I had feared, but still significant). This is particularly true now that it’s getting hot again, with the corresponding increase in heart rate that implies. Sometimes I find it hard to keep the heart rate low enough even on flat, paved stretches. And I have been required to set aside my ego, both on the run when people pass me who might not normally do so, and afterwards on Strava. 

I am not sure if this is working yet. I fell off the bandwagon a bit when I did not bring my HRM on a trip with me. I may alter this somewhat, shifting it to one “cheating” anaerobic workout each week (hills alternating with speedwork, perhaps). But I can say one thing: my recovery from the Superior 25k was better than after any other race I’ve run. After a decade or so of longer races, I have finally found a recovery method that works for me.