End-of-Season Housecleaning

“And early though the laurel grows, it withers quicker than the rose.”
—A.E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad, Lyric XIX

Year’s end is time to cast off some of the accumulations of a season of running – awards that may now seem meaningless, and shoes with 500+ miles that are still wearable. Here are several ways to do it.

Medals from marathon events only can be donated to



while there are numerous ways to dispose of gently-worn but still-serviceable shoes:

Give Your Sole
2091 Raymer Avenue, Unit C
Fullerton, CA 92833

Shoe4Africa
P.O. Box 6943
Eldoret
Kenya

Soles4Souls

The Shoe Bank
205 Becky Lane
Rockwall, TX 75087

Shoes too worn for further use can be sent to the Nike Reuse-a-Shoe Program, which grinds up each shoe component for re-use as athletic surfaces. Send to

Nike Grind Processing
3552 Avenue of Commerce
Memphis, TN 38125

Happy New Year!

New running year, that is, which (at least for me) runs more or less from one Thanksgiving to the next. As is customary at the turn of the Gregorian calendar, it’s time to take stock of the season just concluded, and look forward to the next.

Here are annual volume totals for the past season, as well as 2007-08:

2009 – 139.5 hours (126 land/13.5 pool); 10 races (eight 5K, two 5M); 90 injury days

2008 – 163 hours; 12 races (ten 5K, two 5M); 0 injury days, 19 sick days

2007 – 93.8 hours; 6 races (five 5K, one 5M); 104 injury days

Given the two injury periods, I can’t be too unhappy with results from 2009, since I nearly made my 5K goal of 20:40, and surely would have come very close to the 5M goal (34:10) had there been an event of that length available in late October/early November. Thus, it would seem that with uninterrupted training, perhaps another 20 seconds of improvement in 5K time can be realized, so for 2010, the goal-predictions are:

5K – 20:30
5M – 33:50
13.1 miles – 1:35-1:37

For the immediate future, I hope to train consistently as possible through whatever good weather remains in 2009, and then during the snows of January and February. That’s really where the foundation for any consistent success is laid.

With respect to training objectives, I hope to consistently hit 6 hours per week when the weather is better, and perhaps 180+ hours for the season.

Little ‘Flat and Fast,’ Plenty of Challenge

Race Report: OhioOutside.com Trail Race Series #2 of 3
Saturday, November 14

This race was eventful enough to merit a write-up, even at risk of turning things here into what I vowed they wouldn’t become – a long race account saturated with excessive details and microdramas of personal experience. I’ll try to limit that and provide some observations which may be useful to anyone who tries the final race in the series on December 12.

I entered at the last minute, and with some misgivings, since the race location is (after years of excessive discretionary travel to bike races) farther than I like to drive – ~85 miles round-trip. One of the nice things about running is that events are plentiful enough that you don’t have to go anything like as far to compete, so the impact on budget, schedule, and the environment is much less.

Perhaps what drew me to this race in particular is the fact that it took place at Munroe Falls Metro Park, whose parkway serves as the course for a spring bicycle race series I officiated a total of 20 times from 1998-2002. It’s an outstanding venue that has nonetheless seen quite a few serious crashes over the years, certainly more than you’d expect. I’d often wondered what lies in the woods outside the course, and with the trails likely to be in good shape from the recent dry spell, plus perfect weather on race day, the time seemed right for an excursion beyond the usual travel radius.

Right off the bat after arriving, whom should I see but Mark Gorman, a Cat. 3 road cyclist who once suffered a memorable mishap when he and, as I recall, several others were taken down by a rider with some sketchy (to put it mildly) bike handling “skills.” The crash perpetrator just rode on – I think he eventually won the race – oblivious to the carnage (not to mention anger) in his wake.

Now, there’s no way a single referee can be everywhere on a 1.2-mile course, and I did in fact miss all the excitement, arriving shortly afterward to find Mark, um, rather out-of-sorts. In a case like this, you give the crash victim clipboard, pen, and paper, then have him sit down to describe the incident; if there are multiple victims, you give writing materials to each of them (that’s why I still have 6 mini-clipboards) and send them off in opposite directions. It calms things down by 1) separating everyone; 2) making them concentrate; and 3) allowing them a chance to vent. While you can’t make a decision (e.g., disqualification) based on the resulting statement(s), it all goes in an active file for possible future action. In this case, several other similar reports lead to a brief “counseling session” with the alleged menace to bike race society, after which there were no further problems.

So I just had to remind Mark of this episode: “Hey, I think Lee Runyon [not his real name] is here!”

I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Mark, since he runs the web site that is the primary race sponsor (I’d forgotten that), but it didn’t stop there: the whole race staff was made up of bike race people who seemed glad to see me, one of whom I (embarrasingly) didn’t quite recognize at first. “Agh, I thought I'd escaped my misbegotten past!” “Having a flashback?,” someone asked. Well, not quite, but...

[Sigh.]

It’s happened. I’ve degenerated to the level of purely personal reflection. Back to the race.

After packet pick-up, there was enough time for a preview lap, and it’s a good thing, because the course turned out to be anything but “fast and flat,” as claimed at the race website. A series of 30 photographs is also posted there, and they give a good impression of the trail features present, but not the extent of the gradient changes.

After a run-up of ~210 yards across a grass field, the parkway, and a paved parking lot, the course transitioned to a ~2.2 mile trail, which started off mellow enough with a mild rise on a gravel-sand patch, followed by a short dirt/grassy section.

At Beaver Pond, however, came the first of several short-but-fairly-steep pitches, with tree roots (not just a single one here and there, but little networks of them), frequent 6-inch wide/deep gulleys, and an occasional protruding rock. Of course, all these features were present on the corresponding downhill sections too, along with many twists and turns. Finishing off the circuit was a set of old stone stairs, where you turned back toward the start area for the finishing straight after completing a second lap. Add it all up, and I think the descriptor “challenging” would be more appropriate.

I reported this to Paul Heyse, a good, consistent 19:30 5K runner and a newspaper reporter whose coverage of local high school track and cross-country (among other sports) is much appreciated. “Keep an eye on the trail in front of you so you don’t fall, and let the runner immediately ahead keep a decent gap in case he falls,” I said. As it turned out, one eye was about all that Paul had – one of his contacts had slipped out.

On the starting line, more biker trash people: Brian Batke and Tris Hopkins, two very solid Cat. 2s. Brian is a national-class masters competitor, particularly gifted as a climber and time trialist, and Tris isn’t far behind. I dialed back any thoughts of an age-group placing by a spot. The race organizer (Mark) made a few comments about the course, pointed toward the finish, and said something like “It should be clear.” Not really; it was different than the official course map. Here’s a detail map of how the start/finish area is actually set up:



Off we went, and I felt like I did a good job of staying relaxed and letting the fast starters get away (Coach Roy Benson recently wrote a nice article about this). Passing the little hourglass symbol on the map above, I hit the split button on my watch to start the lap timer. There were no mile markers on the course, and they would have been of limited value in any case due to the variation in terrain, so lap times were about the only way to gauge how well energy output was regulated.

Per my instructions to Paul, I made certain to let a small gap remain in front of me once we reached the first gnarly trail section, and sure enough, the guy directly in front of me tumbled hard, but rolled perfectly and popped right back up. If you’re going to fall, that’s how to do it.

No fewer than four runners burst past rather impressively once we reached the hilly parts of that first lap. My reaction was the same as always: ‘If they can keep or increase the gap, there’s nothing I can do about it, if not, I’ll see them again before the finish,’ or to quote Jack Daniels (yet again): “Remember that the finish line is at the end of the race.” And indeed, I caught all of them, plus a few others, on the second lap, when they were looking much less impressive.

At the completion of the first lap, I hit the split button, and thought I saw 17:31. I resolved to be even more careful on second lap, as fatigue began to accumulate, but also since familiarity tends to breed complacency – if you stay vigilant and get through one circuit, it’s only natural to relax a bit as you figure there will be no problem the second time around.

After his tumble, the ‘Fall Guy’ and I more or less stayed together all the way to Heron Pond late in the second lap, where I started to ease away from him. Shortly after that, another guy came up on my shoulder, breathing very heavily. Usually this means a superhuman has just been made, and you expect the person to fade, but given how late in the race it was, I wasn’t so sure. I did start to pull away near the end of the lap, but lost the advantage on the staircase, where any technique I had on the first lap vanished due to fatigue – I must have looked like an old lady as I came down ever-so-carefully, one step at a time, with ‘Heavy Breather’ right on my heels. I was able to open up a gap on the run-in, but misjudged the finish, not realizing that you had to go past it and around a set of cones, then head back – a total distance of ¼ mile. Still, I had a little extra ‘gear’ in the final meters, which was enough to hold off the Fall Guy, but Heavy Breather came past in the last 10 meters or so. My time at the clock timer, which apparently was the finish line, was 37:10.7 (the official results incorrectly give 36:47) – good enough for only 7th of 17 in my age group, which was the biggest overall (as well as highest in quality after 19-24 & 25-29), and 31st of 82 men overall. The total turnout doubled, from 76 to 143, as compared to the first race in the series, when my time would have been good enough for 3rd in age group.

After finishing, I gave my goody bag, with a nicely customized commemorative beer glass and a push-top sports bottle, to the Fall Guy – out of sympathy, gratitude (for his skill), and admiration (for his tenaciousness).

The second lap was turned in 17:27, so at first I though I’d ‘split negative’ (sped up as the race went on), which surprised me somewhat, but once at home, I found the first lap time was actually 17:13, so the first/second lap split ratio was 49.7%/50.3%, or slight positive. Not bad, at least according to this analysis.

Overall, I was really glad just to stay upright throughout the whole race. I’ve done plenty of training on trails just as hilly/gnarly, with shadows/broken sunlight, darkness, snow, and leaves obscuring trail hazards, but there is considerable difference between racing all-out on an unfamiliar trail and training on one you’ve repeated dozens of times.

A Perfect Race?

Race Report: Inland Trail 5K
Sunday, November 1

Elyria

I almost didn’t do this race, which has a course as close to optimal as possible: fast, flat, smooth, and lovely. I figured, from past experience, that I would probably more or less duplicate last week’s time from the Skeleton Run, which was just slightly better than last year’s.

But I guess that’s why you show up: to see what you can do. It might turn out to be the perfect race, as this one did.

It sure didn’t start off that way. Maybe 75 meters after the start I see this guy dropping out and making a sharp beeline back to the school that serves as the start/registration venue. Now that is some kind of nature call, I thought. Soon, however, it began to filter through the pack: the 5K was to start after the marathon. Now I had to extricate myself from a pack of 150+ runners. All I could think was that the 5K would start a minute afterward, and I’d be too late.

All was well, as it the start turned out to be 10 minutes later, which gave me a little more time to warm up. After a while, I happened upon the race promoter and reminded him that the race web site said “8 AM start.”

“You must be one the four people who didn’t hear me announce the start time in the school,” he answered. Um, isn’t the starting line the place to announce such information, to make sure everyone gets the word?

No matter, soon we were off, and I settled in at 20th or so in a field of 51. The first mile went by in 6:39, by which time I’d passed maybe 5 runners. I figured I’d probably fade to 7:00 for the second mile, then come home in 6:50 – a common pattern for me.

Not this time. The second mile was 6:47 and I felt good, so I knew I was on a good day; at that point it became my goal to simply keep from getting excited and ‘blowing it by blowing up,’ i.e., staying smooth instead of surging. Mission accomplished, as the last mile was 6:46, and I probably lost a couple seconds when I crossed the road (to run against traffic) in the last half mile, whereas most others probably did the opposite. I passed another 10 runners, including the first woman, who has a much better PR than I, to end up 5th overall, and closing on 3rd and 4th. Official time was 20:47, my first time under 21:00 and another PR by 22 seconds on a certified course. I suppose it doesn’t get much better than that: hitting an all-time peak in the race where you planned to do it. Not that I have any illusions; the race winner was 5+ minutes ahead, and the turnout was the smallest of any run I’ve entered thus far (28 in the last 3 years).

Oh, and some credit where credit is due, namely to the aptly-named Adizero PRs:

Just 283.5 grams, but surprisingly comfortable. This was the first time they’ve been raced (maybe unconsciously I sensed I was on a good day), and it will be the last until the form is good enough once again to merit their use.

When is a PR not a PR?

When the course is inaccurate, of course, and in the last several weeks, this has happened at three local 5K runs (values in parenthesis are projected 5K times, based on actual course length):

9/27 – Madzy Short Run* (Berea), 3.00 mi. – 20:57 (21:41)
10/11 – Run for the Son (Brookpark), 3.06 mi. – 21:20 (21:42)
10/18 – Great Pumpkin Run (Lakewood), 3.05 mi. – 20:42 (21:05)

Corrected distances, as linked to above, were obtained using gmap-pedometer.com; by turning up the zoom to maximum, an accurate tracing of the route can be made, provided the start, finish, and any turnaround are correctly located. (The “Run for the Son” was out-and-back, and I failed to note the turnaround location, so a fellow competitor’s GPS reading was used.)

Thus, I tentatively accept the Great Pumpkin 5K as (barely) a PR, which is confirmed by today’s time of 21:09 at the Skeleton Run 5K in Amherst. I don’t know if the distance today was accurate, since the section through the park is obscured on satellite photos (due to being heavily wooded) and could not be traced with gmap-pedometer, but the route was unchanged from last year, when I did 21:18 – my previous 5K PR.

*Last year, it was 3.27 miles, and afterward a plea was made to relocate the start at the driveway of Bonds Hall (making the course almost exactly 5K). Instead, it was moved too far down the road – to the north Fairgrounds entrance. Oh well, at least this time it lived up to its name of a “Short Run.”

Anaerobic capacity training: progress vs. last year

Wrapping up anaerobic capacity training, it’s time to compare this year’s two-week block with 2008:

2009 (9/22 – 10/4): 5 workouts, 48 repetitions totaling 51:23 + 1 5K run on 9/28
2008 (9/16 – 9/25): 3½ workouts, 34 repetitions totaling 32:51 + 1 5K run on 9/27

Thus, a significant increase (56.4%) was achieved in the total volume of anaerobic training; these workouts are the most difficult I do, and last year, I quit halfway through the fourth one, so the recent “results” are encouraging.

A couple of changes from last year seemed to help: 1) I allowed myself a 5 minute break halfway through each workout (recovery intervals were otherwise 3 minutes), and 2) I used lane 8, which added ~6.5 seconds to each rep.

Oh, I suppose I should make some mention of the workout structure, though if I seem rather nonchalant, it’s because I think the late Arthur Lydiard was right to maintain that it doesn’t make a whole lot of difference in this instance: you just run nearly as hard as possible for an interval of 30-120 seconds, recover adequately, and repeat as many times as you can. Pace is of no consequence, as both speed should actually deteriorate slightly as each interval progresses, but try to stay as smooth and relaxed as possible, especially towards the end.

The recovery interval is adequate if you can complete the planned number of reps without a big (say, +10% from the third rep) time drop-off. The underlying physiological rationale is to build up both anaerobic capacity and a tolerance (buffering capacity) for its byproduct, namely lactic acid, which inhibits aerobic energy production. The former is of increasing importance in events under 30 minutes, so if I were preparing for a 10K, 10 mile, or half-marathon, there would be less need for such training, if it were included at all. The latter effect helps you recover from surges during a race, but since I always end up racing pretty much alone and hold an even pace throughout each race, this is of lesser importance.

In this case, I planned on (and did) 10 reps on 2 straightaways and 1 curve in lane 8 (essentially a big “U”), or 323.5 meters each rep. This distance was chosen since it comes as close as possible to 1 minute, which is the duration I used as a cyclist; the range of times was 62-66 seconds, with an average time per rep of 64.2. These data cannot be directly compared to respective values of 56-60 and 58.0 from last year’s workouts, when a distance of 300 meters (lane 1) was used, but they are certainly no worse, and perhaps a bit faster.

Finally, to place things the context of overall training structure as laid out in the Lydiard method, anaerobic capacity training should take place in a concentrated fashion (3X/week for 3 weeks, with 48 hours in between each workout), and only after aerobic development has proceeded as far as possible. One long, easy run is included each week to maintain aerobic fitness, and several weeks of transitional hill resistance training precede the anaerobic period.

Sign of the Apocalypse

During post-race “entertainment” at yesterday's North Coast Challenge, the deejay led children in singing “Eat Chick-Fill-A” to the tune of the Village People’s 1978 hit “YMCA.”

Bad music used to promote bad eating habits: a deadly threat to both good taste and good health.

When you come to a fork in the road…

take it!

So urged the redoubtable Mr. Berra in one of his immortal “Yogisms,” and it comes to mind now as a dilemma presents itself: has aerobic fitness progressed far enough to start hill/anaerobic capacity training in preparation for a period of 5K races in October/November – or should it continue to be rebuilt, perhaps for a late-season half marathon?

In the sense that more miles had been accumulated in the prior 14 weeks, the endurance ‘base’ was undoubtedly deeper (or wider, if you prefer) in June when injury struck, but judging by the pace of recent training runs as well as performance in today’s North Coast Challenge (30 seconds faster than last year), aerobic fitness is as good as ever, so it’s time to transition first to an abbreviated period of hill repetition training (planned a bit more carefully this time!), followed by a couple weeks of track intervals to build anaerobic capacity, then begin racing and slowly taper to a peak in late October/early November.

It’s not ‘just running’

I have a number of leftover biker trash friends from my cycling years, and Ric Stern is among the best of them. In no particular order, he’s a terrific cycling coach (with an excellent group of assistant coaches to boot), a doting father, an irrepressibly cheerful personality – in short, the salt of the earth. His frequent refrain of ‘no worries’ has become my own.

Knowing my history (as a cyclist) of multiple car attacks that converted me to running, every now and then he asks, “Still just running?” It feels like he’s tweaking me a bit, perhaps subtly pointing out the lesser time commitment of running as compared with cycling: whereas an elite runner can typically get by on as little as 8-12 hours of training per week, an elite cyclist needs more like 20, the pros nearly 30. Yeah, runners are slackers. :-)

Now, I see running as a somewhat more complicated activity, where injuries can appear out of nowhere; indeed, their prevention, management, and rehabilitation would seem more important than the precise structure of training itself. After all, even a sub-optimal training program, consistently followed, will produce more improvement than no training at all.

The challenge of avoiding and working around (as well as through) setbacks actually makes running more interesting, even though it has necessitated a multi-pronged approach that adds complexity to workouts:

1. Gone are the days when I paid no heed of running surface, starting each run out the back door; I now avoid pavement like the plague, putting in at least 98% of all miles on softer dirt trails, with most of the other 2% on a local track with a nice, even, rubberized asphalt surface (I abandoned grass surfaces last year, since they didn’t seem to do any better than the trail in reducing impact forces, but have a more irregular surface). This adds ~30 minutes of back-and-forth travel to each run.

2. In early 2007, I visited Dr. Tom Zak, a chiropractor in Westlake trained in Active Release Technique (ART), seeking relief from recurring groin pain. His manipulations provided some immediate relief, but of more lasting importance have been stretches he prescribed, based on a simple visual inspection of my running technique. I do them religiously before every run, and the problem has not returned. Another 10 minutes or so added to each run.

3. With targeted weight training a few times a week, I’ve strengthened the muscle groups that stabilize the hip and knee joints.

4. As described in the preceding post, aquarunning is both an effective means of rehabilitation once an injury does occur, and of maintaining fitness throughout the rehab period. It is also very effective as supplemental training, even when no injury is present.

5. Finally, while I’ve always been careful to apply increases in training load in an incremental, progressive manner, the hip flexor injury provided a reminder of the importance of this training principle.

Factors 1-3 contributed to a complete lack of injury throughout the entire 2008 season, while 4 & 5 helped me cope with what arose this year.

Aquarunning to the rescue!

After nearly complete rest (just a few short pool runs) from 6/28 – 7/22, then aquarunning with greater frequency and duration during the last week, today’s land run was without pain. Though the distance was just 3.5 miles, the pace was surprisingly close to what was typical just before the injury appeared, yet it felt comfortable.

Aquarunning seems to have worked wonders both in maintaining fitness and (in combination with whirlpool therapy) promoting healing; about the only drawback is that it has bleached my swim trunks.

Now it’s just a matter of rebuilding lost fitness, hopefully in time to at least come close to the goal-predictions stated previously. As an astute reader reminds me, it’s important to ease back into land running, gradually phasing out the pool runs while increasing road mileage, since the legs have not experienced any impact forces in six weeks.

Watch for a detailed discussion of aquarunning in a future post.

“To know your limits…

...it is sometimes necessary to exceed them.”

So runs an old and fundamentally true bromide, and it seems to have been borne out yet again.

After a week’s hiatus from 6/7-14, what began as a mild twinge/pain in the right medial/mid thigh on 6/18 blossomed into limiting pain in the hip flexor area by 6/21.

Walking was pain-free after four days rest and a 20 minute pool run on 6/25, but it was all I could do to get through a two-miler on 6/27, let alone walk normally afterward. This pattern has repeated itself several times over and it is apparent that extended rest is necessary.

The cause was probably a too-intensive hill workout (8 x ~25m vertical gain) on 6/16; the descents likely did the damage, despite the fact that I was careful to control my stride. I’d done 5 reps on 5/31, but there was too much of a gap in between even for a modest increase, let alone to 8; 3 or 4 would have been enough.

Update(s) to follow, as developments warrant – where have you read that before?

The new training pattern

The 4 days on/1 day off regime (previously discussed here) has worked beautifully, as I have been able to work up to and sustain a higher training load than ever before, yet with less fatigue. Alternating short and longer workouts while carefully adding no more than 10-15 minutes to each 5-day cycle – even when more was possible – I leveled off with a pattern of (in minutes) 45-67-45-67/day off, or an average of 5 hours 20 minutes a week. Had I attempted that much with a 6 on/1 off pattern, there would likely have been more fatigue, or else I would have had to settle for less volume.

Intensity for all runs has been right around ~90% of ‘functional threshold pace’ (FTP being defined as what can be sustained for a ~50 minute run), which corresponds to the ‘best aerobic pace’ that Lydiard used to advocate, leaving you ‘pleasantly tired’ and allowing enough (but not complete) recovery overnight for the next run, such that the training load can be sustained indefinitely with relative comfort, or at least without excess fatigue (i.e., enough to disrupt the training cycle and impose a period of extended rest).

“Train, don’t strain,” Lydiard used to say, or, put another way, “work, don’t suffer.” The intensity may be challenging at times, but manageable, while workouts may be somewhat difficult to complete, but not a struggle.

Even better news is the fact that the typical average pace has been faster than what I was doing on the same courses last October during a period of peak performance.

Thus, the PR-equaling time that happened today while out of town at the Chase for the Taste 5K in Des Plaines, Illinois, should not have been too great of a surprise. Mile splits were 6:42, 6:56, and 7:07, and they are probably valid, since this race is CARA- (Chicago Area Runners Association) and USATF-certified, so the course should be accurate. I don’t fault myself too much for the fast start and slow finish, since a fair part of the ‘out’ portion was downhill with a tailwind, and vice-versa coming back.

I say the PR “happened” because I have done none of the anaerobic capacity training (400m track intervals) necessary for peak form in a 5K; they seem bring another 40 seconds or so of improvement after as much aerobic fitness as possible has been built up, so a goal of 20:40 seems within reach, however, today’s performance was aided by the taper from several easy/off days due to travel in the days leading up to the race.

One-year fitness comparison

Just like it was in 2008, today’s Dara Hosta 5K in Olmsted Falls was my first race of the season, and as such allows comparison of current fitness to the same point one year ago.

This run starts and finishes at Harding Stadium, where I do my track workouts, and to aid with pacing, I marked off the first ¼ mile and ½ mile from the start (a GPS-enabled watch can help with this, but being something of a retro-grouch, I don’t have one yet). It’s been my experience that early feedback and adjustment of pace in relation to what you have planned can help greatly optimizing the overall energy output (assuming you have chosen reasonable pacing goals, of course!) By the second mile (and even the latter portion of the first, depending on the chosen pace), perceived exertion will have caught up with the pace, and can be reliably used to modulate effort in relation to the distance remaining to be run. On the other hand, if you go out too fast and wait until the first mile split to find out, it can have a significantly adverse effect on energy output, and on performance. As Jack Daniels has observed, “The biggest mistake you can make in a distance race is in the first minute.”

The plan worked well, as confirmed by mile splits of 7:03, 7:12, and 7:05 on the virtually dead-flat course; several runners were caught in the last mile, and at the finish I was just 3 seconds (one place) behind the winner of my age group . Unfortunately, I didn’t know it was he just in front of me, otherwise I might have been able to catch him – or not, but it would have been nice to know.

The course was unchanged and conditions were nearly identical to last year, all of which validate comparison to 2008’s time of 22:40, so it would seem there has been a 3.3% improvement in fitness, but given that there has also been a 6.9% reduction in body mass in the year since, it is possible I am a bit behind where I was a year ago. That’s not surprising, given the 6-week injury layoff in January/February.

I’m not one to fill up blogspace by recounting every last race detail, but one does stand out. With less than a mile to go, I passed Jack Urbanek, an old classmate who ran cross-country ‘back in the day.’ I’ve measured myself against him for a couple years, since his times were well ahead of mine, but seemed like they might come within reach someday. I figured if I could finish close to or ahead of him eventually, it would be an accomplishment, since he was a ‘real’ runner, good enough to run on the varsity. I actually mentioned this ambition to him, and before the Celebrate Westlake 5-miler a couple years back, he pointed to his knee brace and said ‘This is your day to beat me’ or something like that. Naturally, I didn’t, leading me to realize that Jack on one good leg was better than I am with two good ones.

In passing by, I gave him a thumbs-up and said something really original like ‘Hey Jack.’ He responded by surging hard and opening up a decent gap. Jack’s as laid-back as they come, but I thought he might have misunderstood the gesture or the words. In any case, I held steady and didn’t try to match the move (I never do in such instances), since I don’t have much to surge with, and had I tried to, I’d have blown up for sure. I always tell myself, ‘If they can keep or increase the gap, there’s nothing I can do about it, if not, I’ll see them again before the finish.’

So I just continued smoothly along, gradually ramping up the pace, and was able to go by decisively in the last half-mile. Jack has a tendency to vanish quickly after the race, so there was no chance to offer an explanation, if one was needed.

Training update – pain free!

After 4 weeks of no activity (“complete rest” sounds better) beginning with the last post, the left knee pain subsided almost completely, and I had my first ‘aquarun’ on 2/13. It was just 15 minutes long, and turned out to be one of only four such workouts over the next month.

The pain returned with the resumption of running on 2/15 but has been manageable; the symptoms have slowly subsided in response to a regimen of cryotherapy (via Cramer Flex-i-Cold packs) after each run, plus occasional heat prior, and weight training (leg extensions and curls). Today’s workout was the first since January without any pain at all.

In preparation for the local 5K run coming up on Sunday, weekly interval workouts of 5 x 1200 meters were begun on 4/15, to help raise the upper limit of aerobic fitness I’ve built so far. Today was the third such session, and the work interval average of 4:52 (3 minutes rest in between) compares quite well with the benchmark of 4:47 set in an identical workout last 11/5. Based on this performance, I estimate I should be able to do ~21:45.

Volume totals from 2/15 through today are 286.1 miles in 38.75 hours.

Already a setback

Barely a week into the season, and I am sidelined with in left knee pain bad enough that I don’t expect to be running anytime soon. It came on suddenly, and I suspect it may be due to a combination of the cold plus tights that don’t insulate quite enough, with some irregular, snowy running surfaces a contributing factor.

My plan is to rest until the pain goes away, and perhaps finally start something that’s been on my mind for a long time: deep-water pool running, plus some weight training.

As always, the fear is that this will develop into a permanent condition with long-term, limiting effects, even though numerous other injuries serious enough to require time off have all healed without lasting effect.

Update(s) to follow, as developments warrant.

The plan for 2009

“The farther back you can look, the farther forward you are likely to see.” —Winston Churchill

The previous year is likely to have the most potent bearing on performance development, followed by the season before that, and so on; each is built on the one immediately prior, and 2008 was a good campaign in which training went smoothly through the winter months, but was disrupted by a 3-week fight with a severe infection in May that left me weakened and 5.5 kg lighter (from 71.5 to 66 kg, a 7.7% loss). Training resumed on June 1 and proceeded consistently for the rest of the annual cycle (i.e., through Thanksgiving), leading to a reduction in 5K PR from 22:40 to 21:18, an improvement of 6%. The illness turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as the weight loss became permanent, and translated into an almost equivalent increase in performance velocity, therefore there was likely no significant improvement in absolute aerobic power. Volume totals for the year were 162 hours/1180 miles, in 262 workouts.

2007 was the first full year of dedicated running, but with a long break from January 29 – May 14 due to an adductor strain. Volume came to 93.8 hours/685 miles in 170 workouts.

In 2006, training was more or less continuous from July 5 through December 3, with a 2-week break due to sharp lower left leg pain at the end of September, which left as mysteriously as it had appeared. The totals were 50.45 hours/371.2 miles in 92 workouts.

Performance benchmarks for these years were

2006
5K – 22:40 (11/23)
5M – n/a
13.1 miles – n/a

2007
5, 000m (track) – 21:56 (11/19)
5M – 39:11 (9/1)
13.1 miles – n/a

2008
5K – 21:18 (10/26, 11/27)
5M – 36:15 (8/30)
13.1 miles – n/a

For 2009, I plan on essentially repeating the 2008 program (a watered-down version of the Lydiard method), but without any sickness, the aerobic conditioning (base) phase could be finished by June. Then will come ~3 weeks of hill training, followed by 2-3 weeks of anaerobic capacity training (interval training on the track, e.g. 10 x 400 meters). This will lead to a peak for some of the local 5K and 5-mile runs in September. After that, perhaps a half-marathon in November.

Two changes from 2009 are planned:

1. For the base phase, a new pattern of 4 days on/1 day off. 6 days straight with 1 day of rest tend to leave me somewhat fatigued, while 5 on/2 off (with the rest days either consecutive or interspersed among the 5 “on” days – which is the same as 3 on/1 off, 2 on/1 off) seems too easy. 4 on/1 off represents a middle ground, an average of 5.6 runs per week.

2. Add some variety in week 3 of the anaerobic capacity training period – after 2 weeks of 10 x 300m workouts (each 48 hrs. apart), either move straight to ‘sharpeners’ (100m on/100m off windsprints), or else some longer intervals (e,g, 6 x 800m). Last year, the same-old same-old became a bit too much by the third week.

The goal-predictions for 2009 are

5K – 20:40
5M – 34:30
13.1 miles – 1:37-1:39

Goals→predictions

“The journey is more important than the destination.” —Source unknown

“Success is a journey, not a destination. The doing is often more important than the outcome.” —Arthur Ashe

“Accomplishment will prove to be a journey, not a destination.” —Dwight D. Eisenhower

All of the above are applicable to athletic endeavors as cautionary maxims, yet goals are necessary to give direction to and validate the journey; without them, it’s not even a journey, it’s just aimless wandering that goes nowhere. How would it have been if Moses had hauled up short of the Promised Land and said, “This is as far as we go, folks, it’s been a great character building/learning experience”? No, that wouldn’t seem to do at all. And would the Israelites’ journey have been anywhere as meaningful had it been for something other than their freedom…say, maybe, because the beaches were better in Palestine? Hardly.

Goals must be clearly defined and measurable, challenging yet within reach, and can range from immediate workout objectives (e.g., negative split each tempo run, don’t let long runs be too hard, etc.); to seasonal aims which could include both performance and training goals (e.g., reach a new level of training volume); and finally to long range, developmental plans, or what you ultimately want to achieve.

Even so, goal-setting should be approached with a measure of wariness, since things can go wrong, plans can change as “life” intervenes, etc. Even when injury and illness are avoided and training goes well, a plateau is sometimes encountered, especially by more fully developed runners. All of this can lead to disappointment if you’ve invested too heavily in the goals you have chosen, and judge the season only by whether you reach them.

That’s where the foregoing observations come into play. Just do your best each day, training in a consistent, progressive, and intelligent manner, keeping things fresh and fun while dealing with any setbacks that arise, and the rest will usually take care of itself.

So rather than calling them goals, I decided to make something more like predictions for the 2009 season, if things go well. They’ll be discussed in the next entry.

Just what the world needs...another blob

U.S. unemployment is climbing, and may end up past 10%. We’re piling up debt madly, and haven’t even begun spending for things we really need. Warming of the planet is the “biggest global health threat of the 21st century”. The list goes on...

Yet here I sit, starting off the new year by adding to a blogosphere already bloated with ego-driven monuments to self-absorption, replete with endless, mundane details (so often personal in nature) and the insipid chatter of petty drama. Oh, don’t get me wrong; some manage to relate their personal and competitive lives in a way that is truly worthwhile and engaging. TriSaraTops, Brian Miner, and Tim Budic are a few who come immediately to mind.

So while the point of departure for many entries here may be personal experience, the purpose will be to relate it and other running-related information in a way that will be broadly useful. Although there may be temporary excursions into the realm of the inspirational, perhaps a runner profile now and then, the focus will most often be technical (but hopefully not too abstruse), the execution at times in-depth (but not overlong), and the frequency of entries irregular, only as there seems to be something worth discussing (often a novel concept in the blogosphere). More attention will likely be paid to the purpose and timing of workouts, along with reference to the underlying physiology, than precise workout details.

This, then, is my blob, er, I mean blog. No wait, that’s perfect – blob – like a worthless dollop of nothing, or the glop that terrified moviegoers of the late 1950s:


“Steven” McQueen saved the world from the first Blob that engulfed sivilization – who will do it this time around?

Heaven help me, I suppose it won’t be long until I’m Tweetering my every move to Farcebook.