2013 MCM 10K

Well, I got another cool shirt and finisher’s medal this weekend.  The Marine Corps Marathon and MCM 10K were this past weekend up in DC and I ran the 10K.  Over the past several years a group of folks have gotten together to run that race, some from Mt. Vernon High School in northern Virginia and sometimes folks from other places.  Due to various reasons the group dwindled down to just me and Teri who always hosts the overnight guests at her home and throws a fun party to boot!

That part was no different with the theme being Oktoberfest.  We had brats and knockwurst, sauerkraut, schnitzel, and too much beer.  I, of course, had the obligatory tequila shot for luck as well.  We had a great time around the fire pit laughing and telling stories before calling it a night and hitting the sack around 11:30.  After all, Teri and I had to get up at 5:30 the next morning because we had a race to run.  Responsible adults.  That’s us.

And that's us on the Metro heading to the race.

Earlier in the day I went to packet pick up and got to enjoy the sunny weather by standing in line outside the big pavilion because they had no power and couldn’t activate people’s bibs.  What normally takes 30 minutes or so stretched to hours, and when I came out with my stuff the line had easily tripled from where I first got into it.  A friend of mine from the Outer Banks said he was there for over 4 hours getting his bib.  Yeesh.

 

I realized on my drive up that I have had the ability to record some of my blog stuff in video and there are the amazing results to prove it!  Exciting, huh?  So I did more.

Here I am at the starting line:

Yes, I wore a suit.  When I did this race a couple of years ago I wore a tutu just because Tina had an extra one and didn’t want it to go to waste, so this year I decided to go the other direction.  You’d think no one had ever done that before with all the comments I got.  I must’ve been called “Barney!!” and heard “Suit Up!!” a dozen times.

Now here are 7,603 runners and one above average singer:

 

Here’s a quick update from the beginning of the race after I’d bobbed and weaved through a whole lot of people who weren’t going to get anywhere near that 40 to 49 minute estimated finish time sign that was next to that area of the starting grid:

 

It was a beautiful day, but much warmer than what the weather was calling for even the night before, so I kind of got hot what with wearing a jacket, tie and running tights.  Yes, I wore running tights.  I didn’t want to find out what sort of chaffing I could get from suit pants.  Still, the Marines along the way were great and so was the crowd at the finish.  I took a few pictures and face timed with my daughter to see what she was up to.  She’s got an audition coming up in Virginia Beach and told me that the Virginia Repertory Theater was doing Tartuffe and Olympus on My Mind.  I might audition for one of those.  It’s been forever since I’ve done a play, but I have to see when the rehearsals and performances will happen before I can jump in.

 Marines on the course.  Gave me a "Suit Up!" and "Oorah!"

 

Water station volunteers

 

Guess where this was taken 

 

 

The last mile

The finish of this race is the same as the marathon and was definitely designed by a Marine.  It’s about 150 meters up the steepest hill on the course with a 90 degree turn thrown into the middle of it.  Still, with the music blaring, crowd in the bleachers cheering, and the Marines urging you on while they line the course, it’s a great way to cap off a big race.  This year the announcer even called out my name as I covered the last few strides.

 

A guy I ran with for the last mile and I traded cameras to take pictures of each other in front of the monument as the official photogs took their shots.  I must’ve been asked a dozen times if had run the race in my suit.  I always smiled and said, “yes” but secretly thought, “No.  I just tossed it on after I finished and pinned my number to the outside of the buttoned front.”  I’ll have to wear a suit more often, though because I got to meet and talk to bunches of people just because I had it on.  One Marine named Mitch came over and introduced himself and told me he thought it was cool and impressive that I did that.  He just ran the race as well while wearing a 40 pound flak vest and pack.

I just said, “Dude.”

State Games of America Recap

What a weekend!

The State Games of America were held up in Hershey, PA this past week and I had qualified for them in the Commonwealth Games of Virginia in both the 1500 and the 800.  It’s a national competition and I was going to get to run against some really fast folks again.  The last time I did that was in March in Landover, MD and I actually didn’t finish last which was a pleasant surprise.  These races turned out to be more like pleasant shocks!

To start things off since the events were pretty close to my blogging and running cohort, Bobbo, I got to see him and a bunch of friends during the weekend.  Bob and his much lovelier half put on a cookout on Saturday afternoon that was just wonderful.  Hanging out with some of the great folks in the Breakfast Club Runners is just terrific because they’re all just so cool.  Borderline psychotic, definitely neurotic and somewhat demented, you know . . . they’re Runners.  Listening to them talk about running Ultras, competing in CrossFit games, and fantastic training stories.  Great food and fun.  Plus I got to meet more of them this time around and make new friends.

Bobbo saving a village while running a race on his way to pick up food for the cookout.

 

My events were going off Sunday, so I checked out a little early and drove back to the hotel to get some sleep, but instead kept waking up every hour or so thinking about splits.  I had gone online and looked through the competitors and saw that there were only 6 guys showing up in my age group.  Even though every one of them was faster than me I was happy that I could lock up the Top 10 finish I was hoping for coming into the meet.  There must’ve been 15 guys in the 800 but since that wasn’t a real focus for me I didn’t bother looking to see if I was faster than any of those guys.  A quick glance told me there were some that looked to be slower, but you never know what times somebody uses when they register for a meet.

The reduced crowd of racers was due mainly because there had been two other Masters National meets in the last several weeks in different parts of the country.  Some people had obviously gone to Kansas and not here to Pennsylvania.  Still, they were sub-5 guys and I had just run that frustrating 5:16 two weeks ago.  I just wanted to run a smart race and do as well as I could.

The weather was perfect Sunday morning.  Sunny but cool.  And the track was fantastic: a big stadium with 8 lanes of high quality racing surface.  Bob even came out to watch along with Mel and Kim.  So very cool of them to make the long drive down, and I really didn’t want to disappoint them for making the effort.  We sat up in the bleachers and I talked about my goals for my splits and we enjoyed the other events and competitors.

While we sat, and then as I began my warm up, the wind began to pick up.  At first it wasn’t too bad and just seemed to be gusty, but as I ran back and forth on the back stretch with a couple of the other 1500 runners it became a pretty steady, and very stiff, breeze.  Came in sort of diagonally and down the home stretch.  The closer it got to race time for us the worse it got.  Everybody started saying things like, “kiss any PR hopes goodbye” and “going to be a tactical race now.”  I went up and got my spikes and went back down to the track to try a couple of 50m strides into the wind.  Whoa.  I was going to need to find someone to draft behind.  Which is what everyone else was thinking, too.

They ran three heats of the 1500 and I was in the second one where they were able to get all of the 50 to 54’s and 55 to 59’s in the same heat.  I recognized a couple of the guys from March, but not all of them.  “Doesn’t matter,” I told myself “just don’t go out faster than 60 seconds the first 300.”  I had my splits down to run a 5 flat, but knew the wind was going to make things rough, so I just wanted to make sure I didn’t go out too fast or burn myself up running into the wind each lap.

The gun sounded and we took off at a very comfortable pace for me.  Several guys pulled ahead, but not all of them.  I was running fourth and falling back, but I didn’t want to rush up to catch third and draft behind him.  I knew that would pull me through the first lap too quickly, so I kept my pace steady hoping that someone would come around me.  They didn’t.  If anything they were drafting on me, but I couldn’t really tell how close they were and I wasn’t going to look.  Screw it.  Show me what you got wind.

It was blowing hard.  I looked at my watch at the 200m mark and was right on 40 seconds which was exactly where I wanted to be.  I pushed a little up the straight and crossed the finish line in 60 seconds.  Dead on my goal pace and I didn’t feel too beat up from that headwind.  However, I did have three laps to go and I wasn’t near any of the front three anymore.  I shook that off and just tried to hold my pace for another lap before trying to push it a little in the Go Zone.  That’s the third quarter of any race.  The time where lots of time is usually lost, so I push it a little then to keep on track.

That's my legs back in fourth place with 1 and half to go.

 

I came around with two to go and had fallen off pace a little seeing 2:24 on my watch.  I hadn’t pushed into the wind this time but thought I maintained the same speed.  Nope.  That wind was brutal.  I still felt pretty fresh so I surged some after I got out of the headwind in the first turn and relaxed some down the back stretch using the tailwind to carry me without expending too much energy.  I was still all alone in fourth as I hit the stretch again and took the wind full in the face.  This time I knew I was slowed up but was surprised to see how slow when I crossed with one to go and saw 3:53.  The goal was to be at 3:40 and I had just accelerated some but was still backing up!

My pacing had paid off , though, and I felt pretty good so I pushed down the back straight and my friend C.L. who was running in the next heat yelled at me that the guy in front of me was fading.  “Get your head up!” He yelled.  “You can get that guy! Go! Go!”  I looked up and saw that his form was crumbling and knew C.L. was right.  I rolled up steadily so I was pushing hard with 200 to go.  I caught him in the turn and passed him easily. 

Coming out of the last turn with only 125 to go and way back in third place.

 

I kept my head up and saw the second place guy struggling with the wind in the beginning of the straight and I knew I was about to get hit with it, too.  My heart and lungs were screaming at me, but my legs weren’t rubbery yet.  I leaned through the turn then forward into the wind drifting slightly wide as I closed on the guy in front of me.  I wanted to just give in, but saw him struggling and then realized I could beat him to the line.

I pumped my arms and pushed off the ground with each stride, and slowly, very slowly, got to him and moved into second! 

Got him!

 

Those last 20 meters seemed to take forever, because now my legs were rubber and I was beginning to do the Skeleton Dance, but I was past him and across the line in 5:12. 

Held him off to the end.

 

I could not believe I had just gotten 2^nd in this meet!  I was just shaking my head and smiling as I made my way across the track and over to the bleachers to everybody and they were all smiles, too.  Here I had thought I was going to get 6th, maybe 5^th and I had locked up a Silver medal in a national competition.

Bob, Mel and Kim went to get something to eat and I threw on my warmups and laid down on the bleachers to rest for about 15 minutes.  After that I would need to start warming up for the 800.  I drank some Gatorade and downed some Gu to help minimize the leg cramps that always seemed to come up during the first lap of any 800 I run after racing a 1500.  Plenty of fluids, keep my legs up, stretch and use the Stick to roll out the knots in my calves; that routine has helped out a lot from the first couple of times I did these doubles.

As I began my warmup I started talking with the guy who beat me in the 1500.  His name is Steve and he’s a very accomplished runner.  He just came off another sub-3 hour Marathon in the winter and has been working to get his speed back for races like the 1500 and 800.  He was a little disappointed in his 1500 but the wind was just terrible.  He ran a 5:05.  Normally he’s well below 5 minutes.  He didn’t seem to know many of the guys in the 800 either, but we knew that a bunch of them didn’t run in the 1500.   “I’m going to tuck in behind somebody this time,”  He said.  “Ditto,” I replied.

We both figured that we would settle in and let some folks get up ahead of us and then draft around for the first lap.  I didn’t really let on that I pretty much knew I would be at the back of the pack anyways.  He just assumed that since I finished second in the 1500 I would be up there with him in this race, too.

He and I ended up next to each other on the starting line on the two inside lanes and I said I’d give anyone outside the room to slide in front of me; him included.  He politely declined to have me draft off of him and we laughed a bit as the starter called us to the line.  When the gun sounded I took a couple of quick strides and then settled into about the same pace I run for the 1500, and in this crowd I figured that had to be way too slow for any of them to put up with.  However, Steve sat on my shoulder and when we came out of the first turn no one was moving by us.

“What?” Steve said looking over his shoulder.

“Come on guys,” I mumbled because I really did not want to lead this group through that headwind and I was doing everything I thought I could to make them want to pass me.   “They’re not coming,” Steve said as we entered the turn and into that rotten wind.  I was stuck being the leader even though I was going so slow.  Steve stepped out to my side and said, “it wouldn’t be right for me to draft you.”

“No, you’re fine,” I replied.

You know it’s a slow pace in an 800 if anyone does anything more than grunt, and here we were talking to each other.

We got to the bell lap right on 1:21 and then Steve sort of bolted out in front.  I felt really good and accelerated as well, but by the end of that turn he had 20 meters on me easy.  He looked strong down the back stretch and was moving away from me even though I was accelerating, too.  Once again, C.L. was there on the infield encouraging me on.

“Keep your eyes on his back!  At 200 to go, GO!!”

I was breathing hard, but that slow first lap left me with a lot in my legs and I knew I could turn a fast 200.  I got to that line and leaned into the turn driving hard.  I kept my head up and tried to look like a sprinter, running tall and loose.  As I came into the straight and that headwind Steve was still ahead of me but he looked back and I closed on him a little. I knew right then that I had more speed in me and also that this was going to hurt when I finished.  But I wanted this finish.  I did all that I could to get up on my toes and move into full on sprint mode as he looked back again.  70 some meters to go and I was giving it everything I had and getting even closer.  It was right after that I realized he was struggling and I could get him.

I gritted my teeth and tried to push everything I had into my arms and legs, but kept my form together so I wouldn’t lose anything there.  Even with all the effort I felt very strong and knew I was fast even with the wind pushing against me.  As I passed Steve he let out a groan and I pushed onto and through the line pumping my fist in the air.

I had not won a race since my Junior year in high school and here I just won one in a national competition!

I staggered forward and bent over begging for air to get in me and for my legs not to fold up.  Even though my stomach was in a knot I was grinning and trying not to cry.

 

Yep, that's the moment right there.

“YOU!” I heard Steve rasp, “Ran a hell of a race. (pant) I couldn’t hold you off.  (pant) Nice kick. (gasp) Geez.”  We shook hands and I turned and saw Bob, Mel and Kim down by the fence all ready.  So, so very cool to have them there!

I have to admit that later I was a little disappointed when another guy in my age group in the second heat beat my time, but medaling again with a kick that no one else on the track could handle, was just miraculous to me.   Crossing that finish line first wasn’t anything I had dreamed of or imagined.  And the fact that it did actually happen still amazes me.

I came to this meeting with the hopes of doing a little better than I did at Indoor Nationals, and left with two Silver Medals.

Yeah.

I’m still smiling.

 

Race Day!

I just love races.  I get all amped up and nervous days before just like when I was a kid.  It’s a whole bag of jumbled feelings in my stomach.  Confident anticipation wrapped up in a layer of doubt, wrapped in fear of the pain that’s going to come, wrapped in gratitude for having the chance to race.  I guess those things make your adrenal glands pump, because I can feel them pumping!

This weekend was my first race of the Outdoor Track season and would be my first crack at the 1500 since I totally hosed up my last one.  As a reminder,  last July I had gotten some decent training weeks in after recovering from some broken ribs, so I felt like I could beat the 5:16 I had run the month before.  I set my sights on something close to 5:00 even though all of my training really told me that 5:10 would’ve been a bit of a stretch.  Then I pulled a rookie mistake and went out way too fast, because I just felt so good.  I should’ve hit my first 400 meters in about 1:20 or so, but instead came around at 1:12.  About a lap later I was overdosing on lactic acid and fell all apart.  Finished in 5:24. Stupid mistake.  And one that gets made by many, many runners.

This year I’ve trained a lot smarter, avoided barrel rolling a golf cart, and knew I was faster than last year.  I had also learned my lesson and started doing my longer training runs the way the best coaches tell us to do them.

Start slower than your goal pace.  Then accelerate throughout the run.

It’s amazing how well that works, and I’ve been preaching it as a tactic ever since.

So for this race I was confident I could get down around 5:00 and with a little luck maybe break into the fours which is my “big goal” for this year.  To hit 5 minutes I need to average 1:20 per 400 meters.  My training paces and my workouts were telling me I could do that, although I wasn't quite sure how I was going to feel putting almost four of those back to back.  Still, I knew my goal pace and I wasn’t going to blow that up in the first lap this year.

Because of my nerves I must’ve written down my splits three different times and I spent the entire day before the meet running the race through my head and saying, “20 seconds at the first turn, 40 coming out to the straight, 60 seconds at the finish line with 3 to go, then 1:20 at the next turn.  Don’t go under 1:20 unless the first 100 was a little fast.”  After that I was just going to look at every 200 meters to make sure I was staying on pace.  2:20 at the 700 meter with two laps to go.  Then 3:00 flat, and 3:40 with one lap to go.  If I could hold on to that pace I’d be right at 5 minutes flat.  I had no idea what I’d feel like at that moment, but I told myself that no matter what when I hit the turn with one to go I was going to surge for 50 meters at least to get a good start on that last 400.  Had to do it.  No excuses.

Friday night I took one last look at my training plan from McMillan Running and decided to check out the articles they suggested about mentally preparing for a race.  One proved particularly helpful and it was about handling the “No Go Zone.”  That’s the third quarter of every race no matter the distance and it’s where runners drop the ball out of fear all the time.  We used to call the third lap in the Mile “Bizzarro World” because it was just the weirdest, disrupting thing.  You’ve all felt it, too, in 5K's up to Marathons.  It’s the moment you realize you’ve hit “only” the half-way point and you’re already feeling tired.  You’re not going to make it at this pace, so you’d better conserve a little to finish strong.  Bingo.  Precious seconds of race time tick away.

I re-read the article, committed pieces to memory so I could tell myself what to do when my body started telling me to “conserve” a little.

When I had warmed up, put on my racing spikes and stepped up to the line with my finger on my watch I was ready to roll.  I was nervous, but focusing hard on the plan and hoping to see sub-5 at the end of it.

We all took off as the gun sounded and two guys kind of jumped out.  The strides I had just done as warm ups were done at my race pace, so I knew I was a little fast but not much.  I dropped into third and sort of felt like I was coasting as we went by the first 100 right at 18 seconds.  We rounded the turn and the first place guy began to stretch it out, but my pace felt right so I stuck to the guy in front of me.  We got to the first 200 right on 40 seconds and heard the “three to go” call dead on 60 seconds.  We had slowed a little but I was right on pace and felt like I was barely making an effort at that point.   And that pace held nicely as I hit the next split perfectly at 1:40.  I was kind of excited that I was feeling so good and had this big guy in front of me to take the headwind that was coming up on the home stretch part of the track, but then he started to really slow down.  I began to step around him, but thought I’d give him the next 100 meters and take advantage of the draft.

We hit the line at 2:27.  Suddenly I was behind pace by 7 freaking seconds!  I jumped to the outside and moved around him.  Here I was in Bizzarro World, beginning to breathe a little hard and I HAD to accelerate.  After that last, slow 200 just holding onto my goal pace was going to feel very fast.  I followed the suggestions in that article and once I felt like I was back on pace I focused on just holding the cadence.  It took a little more effort as described, but not much more.  I hit the next turn at 3:06 or 7 which meant I was hitting the pace just right, but my shot at 5 flat was going away quick.  I decided to start pushing a little even though I had 600 more meters to go.  This time by when they guy shouted, “one to go!” I found I had only gained one measly second and I was at 3:46.  As planned I surged my way into the turn and immediately felt the rising tide of fatigue kicking in.  It’s funny how I’m beginning to actually feel the lactic acid build up in my muscles.

Because it’s running and you’re breathing so hard it feels differently than say, when you’re doing pushups to the point of failure.  In pushups you kind of click along at an even pace for a whole bunch then all of a sudden you just can’t pop up like you had been and you realize you’ve got maybe 5 more reps in you and the last couple are going to take forever or not even happen.  With all the oxygen deprivation going on it comes on a little subtler with running, but keeps accelerating getting worse and worse.  I swear it gets “louder” the longer I try to keep pushing at that point.  It’s like I can’t hear as much around me or even see as well because everything in me is focusing down on the pain instead of out on the track.

Well surging into that turn I felt my thighs really heat up, my stomach tighten and my arms get heavy.  I stopped accelerating, but didn’t slow down.  I tried to just hold the faster pace until I got to the last turn and focused on gulping down air deep; imagining my back and stomach flaring out to get as much oxygen as possible into my body so my muscles would have something besides themselves to burn up.  I didn’t look at my watch with 200 to go, because I was just hurting too much and besides, what was I going to learn about at that point?  It was hard enough just see the lanes ahead of me and the next split was the one that really mattered.

That last 100 was hard work.  That’s all it was.  Painful, exhausting but somehow still fast feeling.  I didn’t really get rubber legged until the last few strides but I was home then, so it didn’t matter.

I stopped my watch as I leaned across the line and stumbled up a few strides to get out of the way of the other runners coming in.  I was thinking my last lap had to be faster than 1:20 when I looked down and saw 5:01.

 

 

Damn.  So close!

But even while I was gasping and trying not to hork just then, I realized that made my last 400 a 1:15! Now that’s better than I was expecting and I knew it was because I had not gone out too fast.  Of course I did go way too slow at that one point in the first half of the race, but think about how that pans out.  If I had hit the 1100 meter mark at 3:40 as planned I would only have had to run a 1:21 to get the exact same time I just got by gutting out that 1:15.  I could’ve run a 1:19 and broken 5 minutes!  Of course I know that means I would have run a faster 1100 by six seconds, but those six seconds probably wouldn’t have made me feel that much different.  I would have put out the same effort in my final lap, struggled just as much, and probably would’ve been a little slower.  But I COULD’VE been slower and still wound up with a faster final time.

It’s all about pace and splits.  And of course the training.

Over the next couple of months I’ll continue to focus on those Lactate Turners which will push off that exhaustion feeling another 50 to 100 meters or so, and I know I’ll get down under that 5 minute mark and achieve something I thought was just a target to shoot for, not something I would really ever do.

Watching it Work

Prepare to get your Geek on.

Over the last couple of years I've put in a ton of work and not all of it was actually running.  If I went back and added up the hours I'm betting I've spent more time reading, studying, planning and evaluating than I have running.  A lot more.  Having kept my spreadsheets, logs and copious notes I can happily say that it is paying off nicely.  Very nicely.

Since I've experienced some great gains (went from a 5:38 1500 meters to a 5:16 in just two seasons) I'm inspired to do even more.  To learn more, push more and maybe actually reach my stretch goal of breaking 5 minutes in the mile.  But the more I train, and the more I read; the more I find out stuff I didn't know.  Thankfully, each time I learn something I immediately see how it's going to help me get faster.

This past week I went out and paid for a customized training plan from McMillan Running.  You've heard me talk about Greg McMillan and his calculator (check out his site here).  I've been using the calculator for a couple of years now along with the workout suggestions, and the price of a customized plan was very reasonable, so I bought one to get me through the State Games of America in early August.

Since I've been dishing out advice and stories I thought I'd share a nuance Greg explains for the workout I did this morning.  The difference between a Speed Workout and Cruise Intervals.

Both of these workouts involve intervals, and look very similar on the surface.  However, they train you for two very different things, both of which you need to race fast.

I've done a number of Speed Workouts where I run 5 or 6 800's at a fast pace with about the same amount of rest as there is running.  1 to 1 ratio is what Bart Yasso recommends for marathoners when doing this workout.  I tended to run an 800, then walk a little bit and jog a 400.  Then I would stand still for a few seconds to get me to 3 minutes of rest or so, then go hard again.  Last week I did 5 x 800's and they were all around 2:46 with the last two faster.  My legs would just burn earlier and earlier in the reps until I was just completely rubber legging it down the last 50 meters in my last rep.  Super hard feeling workout.

In Cruise Intervals like this morning, I ran 6 x 800's only they were all over 3:00 on purpose.  Specifically, I ran 3:02, 3:06, 3:05, 3:04, 3:03, 2:59.  The object is to make them "comfortably hard" but make each one a tad faster than the one before it.  I sort of blew the first one, because I wasn't paying as much attention to my splits and went out a little fast.  So these are decidedly slower than my Speed Workouts, but not a ton different.  The next difference was the rest.  I walked maybe 25 to 50 meters after each rep, then jogged to finish out 200m.  Without stopping I rolled right into the next rep.  The effect is that my breathing and heart rate, never really came down like it does during a Speed Workout.  I was still panting as I began each rep.

Now instead of my legs burning as I was finishing each 800, it was my lungs and heart.  I was just gasping the last couple of times and right after the last rep, which I pushed to the 2:59, I had those sudden dry heaves.  That was the only time I stood still during the workout and it was only for a second or two during each heave.  I had to keep jogging to finish the workout.

To top it all off, Greg had me doing 3 x 200's and those are supposed to be at my goal race pace for my 1500.  The goal is 5 flat, so that's 40 second 200's.  Even though I was super winded, my legs felt great so I wound up doing those in 36, 35, and 33 seconds.  Once again there was no standing still and only a 200 meter jog between each.

Two similar workouts that train two different things.  The Speed Workout is designed to work my legs and develop strength and speed.  The Cruise Intervals workout is designed to increase my VO2 max which is basically how efficiently my body processes oxygen for energy.  Instead of so much muscle development, this develops the cardiovascular system.  It makes it easier to run faster longer.

Combining these two types of workouts means I will get faster, and it will feel easier.  They feed each other.

The 200's at the end help me develop the ability to kick even when fatigued as well as make me mentally tougher under those stressful moments of finishing a race like the 1500.

Having done both types of these workouts I can tell you they feel completely different, so I know they're doing what they're supposed to do.

If you're looking to improve your pace, even for a Marathon, combining these types of workouts will make a huge difference in your race times.

Happy Running!

 

I think I should be one of People Magazine's most beautiful women and not Gweneth Paltrow

As I start obsessing over what will be my 8th official half marathon, I had a thought.  It is well documented by whoever listens to me that I keep swearing off anything with the word thon in it.  I actually swore off them after my first half marathon.  My first half marathon came after my first marathon.  My first marathon was the worst experience of my life.  It took forever.  I think my time was three and a half days.  As we all know, the crowds for these events are incredible.  It seemed that all of New York was out that day in 2007.  They were all cheering for me.  At least I'm pretty sure they were.    This cheering went on for the first part of the first day.  By day two, people had kind of forgotten about me.  Day three of my marathon came and the people were getting hostile.  They wanted me out of their city.  They finally said take your medal and get out.  I did, and I swore off thons.

There is an old saying that goes something like this, "If one cannot lie to oneself, then who can one lie to?"  It is old and someone said it.  No one knows who and no one really cares.  It is one of those things that someone said around a fire or beside a river and the scribes wrote it down and it got lost in the translation over time until I found it again and put it here.  I'm bringing it back because it applies to me. I lie to myself all the time.  I keep telling myself that I am not going to run this stuff anymore and then I do.  Right now I'm mad at myself because I don't feel that I am well enough prepared to do what I want to do.  Every race I run, I want it to be faster than the last.  I'm pretty sure that isn't going to happen this time.  I try and tell myself that I don't care.  That I can just run and be satisfied that I did it.  But that isn't me.  In addition, I'm just never that happy running 13.1 miles.  I am the happiest guy in the world when I'm done.  Well, about 20 minutes after I'm done, but not when I'm running.  I have moments, for sure, but it ain't every mile.  I've done enough half marathons, that I know when I'm at the starting line on Sunday, I am going to say, "what am I doing here?"  I also realize that I'm lying to myself again because I know why I do it.  Because I like a challenge.  I like to push myself.  I love the feeling when I'm done.  I say this to anyone...just running 13.1 miles is an accomplishment.  There was a time that I could barely run from telephone pole to telephone pole.  I know there are many people who can relate to that and I appreciate all the work that runners put into running.  I appreciate all the work people put into life.  It is not easy.

I have set a new goal for myself and that is to try to eat healthier.  I've rationalized long enough that I can eat what I want because I exercise a lot.  At my age, that is not the case.  It is hard to keep the weight off.  I have a goal weight in mind.  I want to make sure that I'm getting proper nutrition to ensure I keep muscle on while losing the weight I want.  I really want to see how fast this old body can go.  I do not feel I am at a plateau yet and I feel the need to really push.  I hope I have the will power to push it where I want it to go.  I would like to know, just once, that I reached some sort of potential that I have.  I love the quote by Steve Prefontaine.  "To give anything less than your best, is to sacrifice the gift."  We all have gifts, very few really appreciate them or use them to their potential.  I know I haven't.  I don't think it matters whether you are faster, stronger or smarter than someone else.  What matters is that you are as fast, strong or smart as you can be.  Wasted potential is a sad thing.  As you get older, it becomes more profound.   The feeling of lost potential.  You cannot get that time back, but, if you are lucky, you do have tomorrow.  I have tomorrow and there are some things that I want to do.

In conclusion, my concentration has been ruined by Jeopardy.  It is on, and I am trying to finish this and answer questions to Trebek.  If I were on that show, the realization has hit me that he would say, "Nourse, stick to running and lifting weights."  I'm okay with that.

2013 Monument Avenue 10K Results

There.  That title should help with some web searches out there...

What a terrific weekend!

As I approached this year's Monument Avenue 10K I felt sure I could beat my time from last year, which was a 44:04, because I knew I'd been training with more distance and tempo runs.  Optimism.  Then I looked at that pace, 7:04 per mile, and how in my last three tempo runs I couldn't hold a sub 7 minute mile for more than 3 miles.  Hell, my last one I only made two miles!  7:04 for over six miles seemed a little out of reach.  Anxiety.

So I pulled up my training log from last year and found I hadn't run crap over 7 miles back then, and I've been getting in at least one 7+ mile run or workout in every week since January.  Optimism.  I also have been able to negative split my 10 mile runs finishing them at about 7:30 pace overall and even got a couple of sub 7 final miles in there.  More Optimism.

Then on Thursday night something weird happened I still can't explain.  I came home from having dessert with my grand kids and their parents, walked upstairs and almost couldn't get back down!  I had this very sharp, stabbing pain in my left heel where my Achilles tendon connects to my heel.  I tried stretching it some and that was horrible.  I hadn't twisted it, strained it or anything and yet it was if I had a very bad case of tendinitis.  Anxiety.

I took a handful of ibuprofen, and put a bag of Brussels sprouts (I couldn't find any ice packs) on my heel and watched some TV.

It felt a little better.

Before I got in bed I smeared a glob of Blue Emu cream on it and went to sleep.

It still hurt the next day, but only when I tried to stretch it out or walk down stairs.  Walking and even hopping a little didn't bother it too much but it felt hot.  I decided that after work and hitting the expo for packet pickup I would buy some ice and soak this piece-of-shit-old-ankle-that-got-injured-for-no-damned-reason when I got home at night.

During the day my leg didn't feel too bad, but I was careful not to stress it and just limped whenever I had to go down some stairs.  Fortunately, the expo was all on one floor and I was able to move around that with no problem.

I love running expos.  All the people (read that "all the cute running girls"), the energy, and the stuff!  I love stuff.  Especially buying it.  And I found one piece of stuff that I had hoped to find and picked it up pronto.  It's called The Stick.

The Stick is a massage tool that looked to be a very effective piece of plastic and fiberglass.  And all the cool kids at Indoor Nationals had them, so I knew I should have one, too.

The sales people they had at the booth were actually very knowledgeable about physiology and massage therapy.  I told the lady about my Achilles and she said, "you're going to roll this up and down the back and both sides of your upper calf."

"Ummm. OK."

"When you do that you're going to find a trigger point (sharp pain) in one of these three spots," as she pointed to the back of my calf muscle under my knee and off to the outside about three inches below my knee.  "Those spots are where knots form that tighten up your calf and restrict blood flow to your tendon."

Damn if she didn't nail it.

That spot on the outside of my calf made me jump when I hit it.  I went more gently and after a few rubs it worked out a little.

I bought The Stick.

Now I look like the cool kids when I stretch after a run.

On my way out of the expo I met a guy named Daniel Komen.  He was manning a booth with a sign "Train With the Kenyans."  Google Daniel Komen.  Holy cow.

I was standing there chatting with the only human ever to put two sub 4 minute miles back to back.  The world record he set in the two mile back in the 90's still stands, along with his world record in the 3000.

He was super nice and he and his booth-mate David Cheromei run a running camp that is put together as part of a mission trip experience to raise money for the school that Komen started for orphans in Kenya.  My wife and I, along with some friends of ours in our church in Manteo, sponsor a child through Heart for Africa and he was familiar with that and spoke highly of it.  He asked me to come and support his school and said the kids get a lot out of seeing people there to help them and run with them.  He smiled and said, "Kenya make you fastman!"  I've got all their info for doing a trip to Kenya for the camp and then working with the kids at the school or doing grounds/building work while there in hopes I could actually do that some day.

Daniel told me he would autograph my bib number and I got a picture with him.

So cool!

 

So it was home to use The Stick and ice both ankles since I discovered bad knots in both of them.

In high school I had a nice case of tendinitis in the same area and the Trainer had me do a little icing routine using a big bucket and the jacuzzi.  I shoved my leg down into a bucket of 1/3 ice and 2/3 water for two minutes, then immediately shove that leg into the jacuzzi where the water temperature was about 100 degrees.  Sounds painful doesn't it?  It is.  Ridiculously painful.  But I only had to do it twice in two days and the inflammation was gone and I raced on it like nothing had ever happened.

I don't have a jacuzzi and I remembered how much moving into that hot water felt.  I figured I'd do without all that this time and just do the ice part.  So I dumped about half a large bag of ice into a paint bucket and filled it with water.  Then I grabbed a beer and used my phone as a stop watch.  Three times in and out and that should do it.

 

 

I soaked for two minutes in and five minutes out, then just kept them in there for a full five minutes the last time.  Geez, that was something.  Brrrrrr.

 

Then I massaged with The Stick, popped a couple more ibuprofen, rubbed on some more Blue Emu then went to bed.

 

When I woke up I felt fine.

 

Moved around the room.  Stretched.  My calves felt sort of tight and sore liked I'd worked them out hard, but there wasn't any sharp pain, even when I walked downstairs.

 

Sweet!

 

The race itself went about perfect.  Just like the weather.  55 degrees, sunny and a very light breeze.

 

I decided to do this race differently than I usually do, which is out fast and see how long I can hang on, and do the negative split thing I'd been doing on my long runs.  According to the things I've been reading it's best to go out for the first quarter of whatever your running at a pace that is slower than what you actually want to average for the race.  Then you steadily speed up, but just barely.  It makes it seem easier and it feels like I always have something in the tank along with speed if I want it.  I was surprised as I got to mile 2 at 7:10 pace and had been telling myself to take it easy.  Hold back.

 

At the 5k mark and the turnaround point I was at 7:04 and felt very strong.  It was also the only point where I got a good picture.  I took about five during the run and they all looked like crap.  But this one looks cool:

 



 

Hitting the turn hard

 

 

I pressed the first half mile after the turn and didn't get passed again the whole way.  I would look at my Garmin and watch as the average time dropped steadily.  At mile 5 I was dead on 35 minutes and a 7 flat pace.  I was going to PR this bitch.

 

I reminded myself of how dead I felt last year at this point and how hard I was fighting just to hang on.  "Completely different," I said out loud.  A guy next to me glanced over and I continued, "compared to last year.  I feel great this year!"  He smiled and grunted, and slowly faded off behind me.

 

I was grinning as I looked ahead and started pumping.  My hands were relaxed (except for holding my phone), my legs were driving along, and I kept on accelerating.

 

I covered that last mile in 6:26 and was smiling ear to ear when I came across the finish line.

 

I swear there are very few feelings in this world like the one I get when I run fast.  I don't even know how to describe it except that I always remember that day I was laying at the top of my stairs exhausted, sick and weak, then compare it to what I was doing in the last strides of that race.

 

And I just smile.

 

The Song of Gilligan

It is exactly three weeks from the half marathon.  Three weeks.  This will be the fifth time I have done this particular one.  I remember when I did it the first time.  I said it will be my last one...ever.  So, five of these and a couple of other ones later and I'm still at it.  I keep saying that I'm not going to anything with the word thon in it again.  But, I keep signing up.  As the pain goes away from my last marathon, I am even considering doing another one of those.  I kind of feel like the last one beat me.  I'm trying to decide if I can live with that.  My biggest realization in the last few weeks is that I am pretty much full of shit.  I don't mean to be.  I fully intend to concentrate on shorter races, like 5k's, but then something happens and I get the urge to do something else.  I've done three Tough Mudders.  I thought the first one would be my last.  The second one definitely was my last.  Until the third one.  The third is probably my last.  The cost is getting prohibitive.  That is my main reason.  The cost is crazy high.  I have also gotten to the point where I don't just sign up for lots of stuff anymore.  The costs of numerous races is just a lot of money.  I'm trying to pick and choose the ones I really want to do and the ones that are for a good cause.  I would like to do something Tough Mudderish, because I like to climb over stuff and I like mud.  I like the upper body challenge.  Blah, blah...blah.  This is really boring.  I am boring myself to tears writing this.  Do I stop?  Have I gone too far to delete?  It is sort of like an out and back run.  Once you go too far, you have too far to go back.  All the sudden you are running a crap ton of miles, or in this case, writing a crap ton of words.  I'm like the Gilligan of blog post.  Go out for what you think is a three hour tour and then I'm stuck on a island for years.  This post is my island.

Let's regroup here.  Due to the fact that this is a running blog, I'm going to say something about running.  Today, while running through the woods with my friends, I made the statement that I could run forever if my legs didn't get tired.  They laughed, because the legs always get tired, but what if they were so well conditioned that they didn't?  At least for a long time.  When I was coming off my plantar's issue a few years back, I experienced a moment of zen.  I had such a bad case, that I could not do regular runs for months.  That is when I started doing the step workout, switched to training in Vibram's, running in Kinvaras and fully embraced the minimalist thing.  Taught myself to run on my forefoot again, like I did when I was a sprinter in high school and college.  Got my stride back, and stopped being a plodder.  Anyway, I strengthened my feet and my calves by doing lots of step work.  Also, did lots of kettlebell work.  When I started running again on the road and the trails, I made sure that I did a quality run.  Quantity did not matter at the time.  I just wanted to run and finish strong and with a positive attitude.  If that was two miles or three miles, it was fine...as long as I finished strong.  The kettlebells and the steps worked my legs in a way that was just incredible.  Flash foreward to my first 5k after my comeback and my legs never died.  They felt strong the whole way.  I was actually surprised to see the finish line.  It was awesome.

Knowing that my long runs have not been real good leading up to this half, I have been beating my legs up in other ways.  They are sore and tired.  I am hoping to pull all this together in the next few weeks and have a decent performance in the half.  In a way, this is like my first one again.  I just do not know what to expect.  I know I can finish.  I know that I can do okay, but I'm just not sure what okay means. Last year I knew that I could do a sub 1:50 if I was on my game.  This year, I'm not sure.  I'm getting excited to find out.  Then on to bigger and other things.

I believe this is one of the reasons I still love running.  I'm still surprised and amazed to see what my body will do on any given day.  I have to stop writing now and find a way off this island.

Racing Over Your Head

I knew when I signed up for the Masters Indoor Nationals that I would be facing some really good competition.  Last year I ran in a Regional meet up in Delaware and got third in my age group in the mile, but there were only four people in it that day.  I ran a 5:52 in the mile and the first two guys ran just about 5 flat!  That opened my eyes some so this year I decided to just enter the 800 since I really wasn't ready for that distance back then.

Yesterday as I walked into the Prince George's Sports and Learning Complex up in Landover, MD I realized my eyes hadn't been opened at all.

After parking my car I met a guy getting out of his car and he was quite obviously a distance runner.  Just had that look along with the shoes and warm ups.  He said, "Hi," and commented about how far the walk was going to be to the complex.  He'd been here the day before to check it out since one of his races was today, the 4x800 relay.

"You run the 800?" I asked, "that's what I'm running."

"What age group?" he asked me.

"45 to 49."

"Hey, I've got the world record for that age group!"

Sal Allah meets Ed!

I had just met "Salli" Allah.  This guy ran a 1:54 back when he was 46.  He's now over 65 and his team was going for the world record in the 4 x 800 later in the day.  He turned in a 2:21.  Holycow.

And the world record holders, American record holders, national champions, world champions and even several medalists from the Olympics, just kept coming.  Turns out this is one of the biggest meets in the country and its open to international competitors to make it even tougher!  Sheesh.

Earlier in the week I had gotten to see my seeding and the times of the other entrants in my race and age group.  You know what happens when you sign up for a National Championship meet, you've only barely broken into the top 50 in your event and 16 guys sign up for the same race?

You're getting 17th.

And I knew that was where I was winding up.  I did not belong at this meet.

That feeling was confirmed when Sal and I walked in the door.  He showed me where the packet pick-up was and I said I wanted to poke my head into the field house and see the place.

Wow.  I'm running here...

 

 

The facility is huge and crowded with people moving around all over the place.  Very exciting and a rush to be in, but overwhelming when I thought about the fact I had to get down there and run in front of everyone and get last.  I got the shivers...

 

I got my packet, bought my shirt and then hunted around to find my teammates and coaches.  I found Keith Witherspoon just about to start his 60 meter race.  Keith went to UVA and is always ranked in the top 10 in the country in his age groups in the long jump, triple jump and the 60 indoors.  He's over 60 and still a serious beast.

 

I mean look at the back on that guy!

 

He got second in the 60 and in the triple jump this year, and coached me as well.  He told me that "some guys will have the race of their lives," while poking me in the chest, "and other guys will fall apart," as he spread his arms out like that's what will happen to everyone else.

 

I watched  a couple of other members of our team compete then headed up to Annapolis to watch my niece in a softball game and then spend the night at my mom and step-dad's place.

 

The whole night I was running my workouts through my head thinking that best I could hope for was a 2:30.  And I didn't know how I could do that with my fastest 400 in a workout being a 1:13.  I had done all the stuff that I had read about and added the sprint work that Spoon and Kaestner got me into to move up my top end speed, but I wasn't feeling confident.  I knew I could beat a 2:38, no problem, but I was beginning to tell myself that I'd be happy with a 2:34.

 

When I got to the meet and was warming up I saw several people I had met at other races over the last couple of years, shook hands and said "good luck" as I kept picturing myself staying with the back of the pack as long as I could.  And while I was talking to myself Remus Medley gave me a head nod so I went over to say, "hey."  I met him once just a couple of years ago at a meet in Richmond so I reminded him of that and we shook hands.  He is in the M40 group and is a sub-5 miler and runs the 800 close to 2 flat.

 

He asked what I thought I could do and I told him my guess and a little about my workouts, but he said, "you ran a 1:13 as your last rep in a 10 x 400? How much rest?"

 

"About 90 seconds."

 

"And your last hard workout?"

 

"A 5 x 400 with three to four minutes rest and the last two being 1:15's."

 

"You'll do a 2:30.  Got to.  Your workouts say so."

 

He was so matter of fact and confident about it, that I thought that McMillan workout plan must be dead on because it said the same thing.  I felt better.

 

Turns out only 13 guys showed up for the event, and in looking at the field it was the 12 fastest and me.

 

When they called us to the track I got to line up next to a guy named Khalid Mulazim.  They introduced him listing off his national championships and age group records in the 400 and whatnot.  All I knew was that he was this 6'2" 190 pound superhero looking guy.  This is him from the web.

 

 

Yeah.  There are pictures of him on the web.

 

So I look up at this monster, stick out my hand and say, "good luck and have fun!"

 

"This is just for fun," he said seriously then smiled, "I've never run this event before."

 

I didn't feel any better since he could run the 400 in 50 seconds flat.

 

They gave us our instructions and called us to the line.  I felt remarkably calm.  I told myself to just relax the first 100 and fall in with the back of the pack.  Don't burn it up in the first lap.  Just stay close.

 

The gun sounded and away we went.  And, DAMN did the front guys go.  I got left back immediately and then had to accelerate just to stay up, but I caught myself and slowed my chase so I would just stay with the last two or three guys in front of me.  We came to the end of the first lap and the big clock (they have a big clock like the meets on TV because this a big meet like the ones on TV) and it just clicked to 35 as I passed it.  I felt good and kept my breathing slow and deep as I stayed with only two guys ahead of me now, thinking that my first 200 in my fastest 400 workouts were 36's and that 10 x 200 workout I was only doing 34's and those felt hard!

 

But that one didn't feel hard.  I cruised around and watched the clock as I finished the first 400 and it was on 1:09 as I got to it, clicking to 1:10 just out of the corner of my eye.

 

Now I was scared.

 

I felt okay.  A little winded, but that was 5 seconds faster than it should have been.  I was scared I wasn't going to be able to put two 1:15's back to back and here I just did the first one in 1:10.  Stupid.

 

Except that I was breathing well and my legs weren't burning yet.  I was okay.  Slowing some, but okay.  My fear had me slow down in the third 200 but so did the guys ahead of me.  They weren't getting any further ahead and then all of a sudden I saw the guy right in front of me pogo stick off the track as he pulled his hamstring.  I felt bad for the guy, but had to make up some room between me and the next one ahead of me, so I started to push some as we got to the bell lap.

 

That's a very cool moment hearing that bell and knowing there's only one to go.

 

I pushed a little and felt my legs respond.  My lungs were good, but I was breathing hard now.  Still, I kept trying to accelerate and I began closing on the guy.

 

We got to the beginning of the last turn and he had four or five strides on me.

 

I dropped my hands and thought, "take off!"  and my legs said, "Okay!"

 

I closed on the guy so fast I had to move out to the second lane to go by.  Even with the extra distance I knew I had come on so fast he was not going to be able to get me back.  As I passed him I drifted halfway into the first lane again so he'd have to go wide if wanted by, but he wasn't coming and I was closing on the guy ahead of me.

 

I kept expecting to feel that tightness in my stomach when I'm gonna hork from exertion, but it wasn't there.  My training was right and I was ready for this race.

 

I looked to the left as I drove hard across the finish line and saw that 2:24.

 

I couldn't believe it!

 

Friends got pictures near the finish, though they were blurry, and then my daughter took a picture of the board.

 



 

The Kick

 

The Finish  (left him!)

 

The Time

 

 





When I got to the bleachers Spoon and Kaestner were saying, "we told you! we told you!"  And they had.

 

I still got absolutely crushed by the leaders of this race, it was won in 2:02, but my confidence in how the sprint work had helped me out was soaring.  I had just cut 16 seconds off of my fastest 800 from last year, and it turned out that time just placed me in the Top 25 in Masters Rankings for the 2013 Indoor Season!  There are still a couple of meets in different parts of the country going on so I might get pushed out, but for today I'm ranked 23rd.  Big Smile!!

 

I feel like I can still improve on that and get in there with "the big boys" if I can figure out how to balance the rest and work stuff.  But it's getting clearer.  Sprint and weights once a week, one long run per week, one tempo run per week.  Now to see if I can do an additional speed workout and still get enough rest in there to recover and keep making gains.

 

Regardless.  I can't wait to keep working at it!