Two weeks ago I was supposed to have run across the Austrian border. But I decided to go on a different path that another runner recommended. It was an interesting path with a big uphill section in the woods, a flat part that went along a stream, a section that reminded me of the California desert with short, scrubby plants and miniature pine trees, and then another part through the woods. It was part of the 25 km Plansee Rundfahrt (Lake Plan trail). The desert-type section reminded me a bit of Lone Pine, California, where my mother lives. I was surrounded on all four sides by mountains. I would like to run that trail again to see where it eventually goes, but not as a long (3 hour) training run for a marathon. The uphill was long and grinding, which made the run more difficult. I had to walk on part of the uphill section. When I came back down, it was a little hard on the knees. But maybe one day after I recover from the marathon I will drive out there to the starting point and run it.
Today's run was 3 hours and 15 minutes and I stayed on my usual path to the village of Griesen and then over the Austrian border on the bike/hiking path toward Ehrwald (an Austrian ski town). I'm not sure if Griesen even rates being called a village. It's one of those places that you'd miss if you blinked your eyes driving through it. Back to my run...I was off to an early (7:20 am) start because we are in the middle of a heat wave. The only way to beat the heat is to get an early start and carry a big bottle of diluted Gatorade. I was lucky because there is a lot of shade on the route from Garmisch to Griesen due to the combination of a lot of trees and the sun being below the mountain peaks. The Austrian section was also very shady. There was definitely a big temperature difference between the sunny and shady sections. Fortunately, only about 25 to 30 percent of the route that I ran today is in the sun. Even though this route parallels the main road into Austria, it is still very scenic because it also runs next to the Loisach River. I think that the river also helped to keep things cool.
All in all, today's run was a good one. I started off slowly, though I noticed that I picked up the pace rather early. I was hitting my checkpoints faster than I did two weeks ago, when I ran for three hours (last week I hiked instead of running). Even on the way back, I was faster than I expected to be. It almost seemed a little too fast for the time/distance I was running. I felt great and ran at this relatively speedy pace until the 2:55 mark. Then the legs started to protest. I walked through my refueling stop at the 3:00 mark. (I walk through all of my refueling stops to simulate walking through the water points on race day.) When it came time to run again, I had to really slow my pace. I really need to work on reining in my energy in the middle section of my training runs or the marathon won't be pretty. My very long training runs seem to follow a pattern: the first 30 to 45-60 minutes is at a nice easy pace, from 45-60 minutes to 2:00-2:30 I have lots of energy and tend to go faster, then the last bit of the run is very tough. I can still run through the last part, but I'm definitely slower and I spend a lot of time wishing that I could walk the rest of the way home. If I can hold my slow early pace for the first 90 minutes, I'll be in better shape for a marathon finish. I expect to finish the marathon in around 4 hours and 15 minutes. Now my knees and left Achilles tendon need some ice. Then they'll be fine and not so stiff.
On the subject of marathon running, my husband made a comment about it last night. I was telling him that my mother thought that I'm crazy for wanting to run a marathon at my age. OK, she thinks it's crazy to run a marathon at any age. Then my husband said that marathon running is a sport for emaciated Africans. I'm not African and I'm definitely not emaciated. Neither is my stepbrother, who runs the Los Angeles Marathon every year. My former running partners, who also ran marathons, were also not emaciated Africans. But the marathon is a physical and mental challenge that very few people can accomplish. The feeling of crossing a marathon finish line and getting a finisher's medal is hard to put into words. Any runner who has ever finished a marathon will immediately understand how it feels to cross the finish line. To me a marathon finisher's medal is like an Olympic gold medal. That medal represents all of the time, training, sweat, getting soaked by rain, bug bites, and ice on the knees that went into earning it.
FIY, the Munich Marathon is on 14 October. Less than two months to go!
Showing posts with label training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label training. Show all posts
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Two and a Half Hours
Today was my first big test for October's Munich Marathon, which I passed with flying colors. It was my first really super long run. Two and a half hours is a long time to run, but the marathon will be just over four. I had done very well on my recent runs of 2:00 and 2:10. But two hours is the longest distance that I run in training to prepare for a half-marathon. Now it's time to do truly long runs to get ready for Munich.
I am a very old school runner. While running magazine and websites promote a lot of "Zero to Marathon in 12 Weeks" programs as the latest thing, I cannot follow them. First of all, my knees would never forgive me. I have tendinitis in my knees. As long as I build my mileage slowly, my knees don't bother me. But if I build mileage quickly, which those training programs tend to do, my knees would protest. Secondly, quickie marathon training programs only have one or two very long runs. I believe that the best way to prepare my body for the rigors of a marathon is to do a lot of long runs. With more long runs, there are more opportunities to figure out what works and what doesn't. When race day rolls around, I will be ready to go out and do my best.
My late running partner Bill used to tell me to analyze both my training runs and races to learn from what went right and wrong. Here's my analysis of today's run.
THE GOOD:
* The weather was perfect for a run. It was about 10 C (50 F) and overcast when I set out at about 10 this morning. I wanted to go earlier, but it was raining hard. I gave myself until 10 to either run or shower and try instead for a long run tomorrow. The temperature was not a typo, nor is Garmisch in the Southern Hemisphere. Summers here are typically hot, sunny days followed by a week of cool, rainy ones.
* I started off very slowly and ran a negative split coming back. It's not really fair to say that I ran a negative split because the route I run has a slight uphill grade going out and is downhill coming back.
* This was the first run where I didn't stop my watch during my refueling breaks. I walked while I drank my diluted Gatorade and ate my Gummi Bears. The walking was on purpose. It's time to start simulating the experience of walking through the water stops during the marathon.
* I made it home running and only walked during my refueling breaks every 30 minutes.
* My legs weren't as sore as I thought they would be. After I was home, my husband and I took a couple of short walks, which helped to alleviate the stiffness. As I write this post, I'm feeling pretty good.
THE NOT SO GOOD
* I went too fast during the second hour, especially between 90 and 120 minutes. I had a real burst of energy at around the 90 minute mark and went with it. Big mistake. If I did something like that at the 90 minute mark in the marathon, I would not make it to the finish line. When I took my refueling break at 2 hours, it was a real struggle to run back home. This is where my mental toughness came in and got me home, so it wasn't all bad. I'll know next week, when I run for 2:45, to hold myself back. It's better to make mistakes like that in training than during the race.
* There was too big a gap between when I finished breakfast and when I finally got out to run. It would have been okay for a shorter run, but it didn't work out on today's very long run. Even though I had my Gummi Bears and Gatorade, they didn't cut the hunger. The next time I have to wait out rain, I'll have some toast or a Power Bar before setting out.
* No wildlife. Last Friday I saw a fox for the first time in Garmisch. I used to see lots of foxes, deer, and even wild boar in the woods when I lived in Parsberg. Here I mainly see squirrels. But I did hear the song, "Fox on the Run" on my iPod today, though it would have been more fitting on Friday.
Next week I should make it to the Austrian border, or very close to it. Today I was within a kilometer of Griesen, which is a village on the German-Austrian border. The official border is just past Griesen.
All in all, I'm feeling very confident about Munich. This is the first time in five years that I haven't had any nagging aches and pains that prevented me from running a marathon. I'm feeling both physically and mentally ready for the next two and a half months of very long runs and for the race.
I am a very old school runner. While running magazine and websites promote a lot of "Zero to Marathon in 12 Weeks" programs as the latest thing, I cannot follow them. First of all, my knees would never forgive me. I have tendinitis in my knees. As long as I build my mileage slowly, my knees don't bother me. But if I build mileage quickly, which those training programs tend to do, my knees would protest. Secondly, quickie marathon training programs only have one or two very long runs. I believe that the best way to prepare my body for the rigors of a marathon is to do a lot of long runs. With more long runs, there are more opportunities to figure out what works and what doesn't. When race day rolls around, I will be ready to go out and do my best.
My late running partner Bill used to tell me to analyze both my training runs and races to learn from what went right and wrong. Here's my analysis of today's run.
THE GOOD:
* The weather was perfect for a run. It was about 10 C (50 F) and overcast when I set out at about 10 this morning. I wanted to go earlier, but it was raining hard. I gave myself until 10 to either run or shower and try instead for a long run tomorrow. The temperature was not a typo, nor is Garmisch in the Southern Hemisphere. Summers here are typically hot, sunny days followed by a week of cool, rainy ones.
* I started off very slowly and ran a negative split coming back. It's not really fair to say that I ran a negative split because the route I run has a slight uphill grade going out and is downhill coming back.
* This was the first run where I didn't stop my watch during my refueling breaks. I walked while I drank my diluted Gatorade and ate my Gummi Bears. The walking was on purpose. It's time to start simulating the experience of walking through the water stops during the marathon.
* I made it home running and only walked during my refueling breaks every 30 minutes.
* My legs weren't as sore as I thought they would be. After I was home, my husband and I took a couple of short walks, which helped to alleviate the stiffness. As I write this post, I'm feeling pretty good.
THE NOT SO GOOD
* I went too fast during the second hour, especially between 90 and 120 minutes. I had a real burst of energy at around the 90 minute mark and went with it. Big mistake. If I did something like that at the 90 minute mark in the marathon, I would not make it to the finish line. When I took my refueling break at 2 hours, it was a real struggle to run back home. This is where my mental toughness came in and got me home, so it wasn't all bad. I'll know next week, when I run for 2:45, to hold myself back. It's better to make mistakes like that in training than during the race.
* There was too big a gap between when I finished breakfast and when I finally got out to run. It would have been okay for a shorter run, but it didn't work out on today's very long run. Even though I had my Gummi Bears and Gatorade, they didn't cut the hunger. The next time I have to wait out rain, I'll have some toast or a Power Bar before setting out.
* No wildlife. Last Friday I saw a fox for the first time in Garmisch. I used to see lots of foxes, deer, and even wild boar in the woods when I lived in Parsberg. Here I mainly see squirrels. But I did hear the song, "Fox on the Run" on my iPod today, though it would have been more fitting on Friday.
Next week I should make it to the Austrian border, or very close to it. Today I was within a kilometer of Griesen, which is a village on the German-Austrian border. The official border is just past Griesen.
All in all, I'm feeling very confident about Munich. This is the first time in five years that I haven't had any nagging aches and pains that prevented me from running a marathon. I'm feeling both physically and mentally ready for the next two and a half months of very long runs and for the race.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
I'm a Long Distance Runner Because...
This morning I woke up late (about 7.40) and decided that I would do a short long run of one hour. I have been building up my time on my long runs for the past two months and I felt like my body needed a little break. This week I was also doing a lot of stair climbing at work and my legs were tired. Today's run started off fast, but I was able to hold the pace the whole time. My run really seemed very short! While I was running today, I started thinking about how I realized that I am a real long distance runner. Looking back on my Excel spreadsheet that I made for my racing history, I saw that about one-third of my races have been either half-marathons or marathons. I'm currently training for my fifth marathon, which will be in Munich this October.
I should have realized that I was made for long distance running back in junior high. Back in those days (early '70s) our class had to take fitness tests every year. If you made a certain standard on all of the events: 50-meter dash, 800-meter run, push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups, and hanging from a bar, then you got a certificate that was signed by the president. It was a big honor to get this certificate because only about 10% of the class could earn one. I could pass the standard on all of the events except for the 50-meter dash. I barely beat the fat kid in the 50-meter dash. But I was one of the top finishers in the 800-meter run.
The following list will be similar to a post from last year about how I know I'm a runner. But there are differences between simply being a runner and being a runner who likes long distances. I know I'm a long distance runner because...
* A one-hour run seems short.
* Waking up at 6 on a Sunday morning to beat the summer heat (and hordes of cyclists and walkers) on a long run is a perfectly normal behavior.
* Energy bars and Gatorade are permanent fixtures on the weekly grocery list.
* I make fun of those who buy one of each color of an item that's on sale. But when Gatorade is on sale at the Commissary, I stock up on it. My basement storage room always has a good supply of Gatorade.
* A 5 km race is practically a sprint.
* A fun mental challenge is figuring out a playlist for a 3-hour training run with as few songs on it as possible.
* Non-running friends think that I'm a masochist. They don't realize that there is a feeling of great satisfaction in completing a two-hour plus training run.
* Non-runners also don't understand that even though marathon finishers look like the walking wounded on the outside, they are doing the happy dance inside.
* Finishers' medals for any race shorter than a half-marathon are put away. The only medals kept on display are those for half-marathons and marathons.
* When I tell people I don't drink much alcohol, they think it's weird until I tell them that I run marathons and that too much drinking affects my training.
* I love the looks on people's faces when I tell them that I ran 25 km (about 15 miles) in training.
* Bedtime is 8 pm on long run days.
* After a post-race recovery period, I can't wait to start doing long runs again.
* I like to eat ice cream. All of those long training runs burn off enough calories to allow me to eat ice cream without gaining weight.
I should have realized that I was made for long distance running back in junior high. Back in those days (early '70s) our class had to take fitness tests every year. If you made a certain standard on all of the events: 50-meter dash, 800-meter run, push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups, and hanging from a bar, then you got a certificate that was signed by the president. It was a big honor to get this certificate because only about 10% of the class could earn one. I could pass the standard on all of the events except for the 50-meter dash. I barely beat the fat kid in the 50-meter dash. But I was one of the top finishers in the 800-meter run.
The following list will be similar to a post from last year about how I know I'm a runner. But there are differences between simply being a runner and being a runner who likes long distances. I know I'm a long distance runner because...
* A one-hour run seems short.
* Waking up at 6 on a Sunday morning to beat the summer heat (and hordes of cyclists and walkers) on a long run is a perfectly normal behavior.
* Energy bars and Gatorade are permanent fixtures on the weekly grocery list.
* I make fun of those who buy one of each color of an item that's on sale. But when Gatorade is on sale at the Commissary, I stock up on it. My basement storage room always has a good supply of Gatorade.
* A 5 km race is practically a sprint.
* A fun mental challenge is figuring out a playlist for a 3-hour training run with as few songs on it as possible.
* Non-running friends think that I'm a masochist. They don't realize that there is a feeling of great satisfaction in completing a two-hour plus training run.
* Non-runners also don't understand that even though marathon finishers look like the walking wounded on the outside, they are doing the happy dance inside.
* Finishers' medals for any race shorter than a half-marathon are put away. The only medals kept on display are those for half-marathons and marathons.
* When I tell people I don't drink much alcohol, they think it's weird until I tell them that I run marathons and that too much drinking affects my training.
* I love the looks on people's faces when I tell them that I ran 25 km (about 15 miles) in training.
* Bedtime is 8 pm on long run days.
* After a post-race recovery period, I can't wait to start doing long runs again.
* I like to eat ice cream. All of those long training runs burn off enough calories to allow me to eat ice cream without gaining weight.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Masochist's Delight (Not Really)
Garmisch is experiencing a summer heat wave. It wasn't super warm this morning in the shade, but it was very humid. It was downright hot in the sun because of heat reflecting off the black asphalt. The plan for my long run today (1:50) was to get out early to beat both the heat and the cyclists that crowd the trail to Austria on warm days. I set out a little later than I wanted to (about 7:45), but still got lucky with the crowds on the trail. During my 55 minutes of going out, I was only passed by one cyclist. On the return leg, there were still not many cyclists. Maybe most of them were still eating breakfast at their guesthouses.
On to today's run. I wanted to run the route that I accidentally discovered last week, but I knew it would be a mistake. That particular route is fairly sunny and hilly. I didn't really want to do hills when it was warm. I opted for the bike trail that eventually goes into Austria because it's the shadiest of my long running routes. It's tree-lined or in the shadow of the mountains for most of the way.
My pace was also very slow. It almost felt like I was going at a cool-down jog. But given the choice between overheating and a snail's pace, I'll run nice and slowly. I probably should be running close to this pace for my long runs anyway. When I run slowly, I imagine that I'm running with friends of mine who I ran with in Parsberg who were slower than me. At this point in my training, it's all about time on my feet and not speed. The speed will come later as I get used to running longer distances.
When I run in cooler weather, my refueling breaks are every 30 minutes. This coincides with how water points are set up in most long German races. They are on average about 5 km apart. Even though I run 5 km in less than 30 minutes, I use that time because it's a nice round number. But because it was so warm today, I stopped every 20 minutes to take a drink. I was tempted to pour some of my drink over my head, but I wanted to make sure I had enough to last the whole run. Also Gatorade, even when it's diluted, can make hair very sticky and defeat the purpose of pouring water over my head. Yes, I have ended up accidentally pouring sports drink on my head at races.
Today's run was better than I thought it would be. I kept my expectations (and speed) low and decided to, "Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride." I thought for sure the heat would make my run a real "masochist's delight," but I actually enjoyed myself. My legs didn't really feel tired at the end; and I felt like I could have gone further. This is a good thing because over the next three months I will be going a lot further. I still prefer to train in cooler weather, but I showed that I could handle the heat by being smart. I also know that October will be a lot cooler than June. I really feel that I'm on the right track for the Munich Marathon this October.
On to today's run. I wanted to run the route that I accidentally discovered last week, but I knew it would be a mistake. That particular route is fairly sunny and hilly. I didn't really want to do hills when it was warm. I opted for the bike trail that eventually goes into Austria because it's the shadiest of my long running routes. It's tree-lined or in the shadow of the mountains for most of the way.
My pace was also very slow. It almost felt like I was going at a cool-down jog. But given the choice between overheating and a snail's pace, I'll run nice and slowly. I probably should be running close to this pace for my long runs anyway. When I run slowly, I imagine that I'm running with friends of mine who I ran with in Parsberg who were slower than me. At this point in my training, it's all about time on my feet and not speed. The speed will come later as I get used to running longer distances.
When I run in cooler weather, my refueling breaks are every 30 minutes. This coincides with how water points are set up in most long German races. They are on average about 5 km apart. Even though I run 5 km in less than 30 minutes, I use that time because it's a nice round number. But because it was so warm today, I stopped every 20 minutes to take a drink. I was tempted to pour some of my drink over my head, but I wanted to make sure I had enough to last the whole run. Also Gatorade, even when it's diluted, can make hair very sticky and defeat the purpose of pouring water over my head. Yes, I have ended up accidentally pouring sports drink on my head at races.
Today's run was better than I thought it would be. I kept my expectations (and speed) low and decided to, "Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride." I thought for sure the heat would make my run a real "masochist's delight," but I actually enjoyed myself. My legs didn't really feel tired at the end; and I felt like I could have gone further. This is a good thing because over the next three months I will be going a lot further. I still prefer to train in cooler weather, but I showed that I could handle the heat by being smart. I also know that October will be a lot cooler than June. I really feel that I'm on the right track for the Munich Marathon this October.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Type B Running
If there was a definition in Webster's Dictionary for "Type B runner," it would be my photo. If a Type A personality is someone who is a driven workaholic, I would be around a Type W. I'm not a lazy runner; and I have the self-discipline to run and train for long races. I am very diligent about getting my workouts in every week. But I'm definitely one of the more laid back runners that I know.
When I was a new runner, I kept a log. I got a free log book for subscribing to Runner's World. I would dutifully write down my distance, time, and how I felt about my run. But that phase didn't last very long. Every once in a while I would get the urge to log my mileage, but I would lose interest quickly. I would start "fantasy runs," where I would imagine myself running from one city to another, but only managed to finish one (Prague to Constanta, Romania). As recently as two years ago, I started an Excel spreadsheet on my computer with a fantasy run from Vladivostok to Moscow following the route of the Trans-Siberian Railroad. I actually made it through the middle of last year (and to Lake Baikal). But when I was in the States that year, keeping track of my distance went by the wayside.
There is a little part of me that wishes to keep a log, mainly because it would be interesting to know how far I have run since 1989. I know runners who have kept logs since their first day of running and know exactly how many miles or kilometers they have run and how long it took them. They write down their resting heart rates, average pulse rate while running, respiration, body temperature, and blood oxygen saturation. Some people write down the weather conditions and even the dollar to Tajikistan somoni exchange rate on that day in their logs. A lot of the new GPS devices even show your route on Google maps. Other people use various online tools and post their workouts for all to see. I have several Facebook friends whose workouts I know better than my own. There's nothing like seeing, "I ran 5.7381 miles in 49 minutes and 27.86 seconds and felt like I was going to throw up afterward" to convince me that I'm fine without a running log.
I also used to be fairly diligent about keeping track of my mile (in the States) and kilometer (in Europe) splits during races. I would click my watch's split button at the distance markers, then go home and write down my split times. But now I keep the times in my head. Here is what usually happens to me. I think about clicking my watch at the kilometer markers. But after about 4 or 5 kilometers, I realize that I forgot to hit the "split" button on my watch. I then look at my watch at the kilometer markers and then mentally calculate my split times. That has happened to me in my last several races. But I still finish the race regardless of whether or not I remember to save my splits on my watch.
If I'm so Type B, why do I wear a watch? There are a couple of reasons why my watch is a necessity. First of all, I run for time instead of distance. There are no distance markers on any of the paths where I live. Since I know my approximate pace through experience, I know how far I run on a given day. I may be off by 100-200 meters, but in the grand scheme of things that doesn't matter. But I when I'm on a 90-minute run, I can't accurately judge when I have gone 45 minutes and need to turn around. The stopwatch on my watch lets me know. I also use the watch for pacing because I have a tendency to go too fast on my long runs. I look at my watch at my various checkpoints to determine if I'm on the right pace or need to slow down. My perceived speed is often different from my actual pace.
Another Type B thing about me is that I don't set time goals for races anymore. I know my usual time range for a given distance. I'm also at an age where I'm not getting any faster. To me a race is a training run in a new and different location. When I used to set time goals, I would be ecstatic when I was faster than my goal and disappointed when I was slower than my goal time. With racing experience I realized that there are variables that can affect time, like the weather or muscle cramps. My goal for races now is simply to do the best I can. I often see people at longer races (half-marathons and marathons) with strips of paper on their wrists, or writing on their arms, that show the times that they should be at each marker. Knowing how I am, I would forget to look at my wrist or arm to compare my actual times to the ones on the paper or my skin.
People often ask me if I follow a specific training plan. That's another Type B quality that I have. While I do run 4 days a week, I don't follow a formal training plan. I have had the good fortune to have had awesome training partners who passed on their knowledge to me. Even though how I train may seem old school, it works for me. I also have a variable work schedule and a rigid training plan would not work for me. The only thing that's "rigid" about my training plan is my weekly long run. But if I have to skip a long run, it's not a big deal.
Being a relaxed runner also helps me to discover new things. Yesterday I did my long run (1:40). I wanted to go on a route that I had cycled on a few years ago. But I ended up making a wrong turn and discovered a trail that is perfect for long hill runs. It's part of the Eibsee Run route. I didn't panic about the wrong turn; I just followed the trail until it was time to turn around. On the way back I made another wrong turn and ended up going home a different way than I planned. It was a very fun run and I discovered a new place for long training runs. Sometimes having a poor sense of direction (or as I say, "being GPS challenged") can be a good thing.
In my opinion, what has really turned me into a Type B runner is experience. After over 20 years of racing, I know that there will be good races and disappointing ones. There will be great training runs and ones where I will feel awful. My hope is to get the bad runs over with in training and save the good ones for race day. In my opinion, what has made me more relaxed about my running is that I feel like I have accomplished everything that I wanted to as a runner. I have worked my way up from running 5K races to marathons. I have won women's divisions of races, age group awards, and even won a team competition. Now I see myself as a model for what an older runner can accomplish. While others want to run beyond the marathon distance or qualify for the Boston Marathon, neither of those things really appeal to me. Even though I am a Type B runner, I am still quite happy with everything that I have accomplished over the last 20+ years as a runner. The important thing is pride in going out and doing your best regardless if you keep a log, have time goals, follow a training plan to the letter, or are a Type B runner.
When I was a new runner, I kept a log. I got a free log book for subscribing to Runner's World. I would dutifully write down my distance, time, and how I felt about my run. But that phase didn't last very long. Every once in a while I would get the urge to log my mileage, but I would lose interest quickly. I would start "fantasy runs," where I would imagine myself running from one city to another, but only managed to finish one (Prague to Constanta, Romania). As recently as two years ago, I started an Excel spreadsheet on my computer with a fantasy run from Vladivostok to Moscow following the route of the Trans-Siberian Railroad. I actually made it through the middle of last year (and to Lake Baikal). But when I was in the States that year, keeping track of my distance went by the wayside.
There is a little part of me that wishes to keep a log, mainly because it would be interesting to know how far I have run since 1989. I know runners who have kept logs since their first day of running and know exactly how many miles or kilometers they have run and how long it took them. They write down their resting heart rates, average pulse rate while running, respiration, body temperature, and blood oxygen saturation. Some people write down the weather conditions and even the dollar to Tajikistan somoni exchange rate on that day in their logs. A lot of the new GPS devices even show your route on Google maps. Other people use various online tools and post their workouts for all to see. I have several Facebook friends whose workouts I know better than my own. There's nothing like seeing, "I ran 5.7381 miles in 49 minutes and 27.86 seconds and felt like I was going to throw up afterward" to convince me that I'm fine without a running log.
I also used to be fairly diligent about keeping track of my mile (in the States) and kilometer (in Europe) splits during races. I would click my watch's split button at the distance markers, then go home and write down my split times. But now I keep the times in my head. Here is what usually happens to me. I think about clicking my watch at the kilometer markers. But after about 4 or 5 kilometers, I realize that I forgot to hit the "split" button on my watch. I then look at my watch at the kilometer markers and then mentally calculate my split times. That has happened to me in my last several races. But I still finish the race regardless of whether or not I remember to save my splits on my watch.
If I'm so Type B, why do I wear a watch? There are a couple of reasons why my watch is a necessity. First of all, I run for time instead of distance. There are no distance markers on any of the paths where I live. Since I know my approximate pace through experience, I know how far I run on a given day. I may be off by 100-200 meters, but in the grand scheme of things that doesn't matter. But I when I'm on a 90-minute run, I can't accurately judge when I have gone 45 minutes and need to turn around. The stopwatch on my watch lets me know. I also use the watch for pacing because I have a tendency to go too fast on my long runs. I look at my watch at my various checkpoints to determine if I'm on the right pace or need to slow down. My perceived speed is often different from my actual pace.
Another Type B thing about me is that I don't set time goals for races anymore. I know my usual time range for a given distance. I'm also at an age where I'm not getting any faster. To me a race is a training run in a new and different location. When I used to set time goals, I would be ecstatic when I was faster than my goal and disappointed when I was slower than my goal time. With racing experience I realized that there are variables that can affect time, like the weather or muscle cramps. My goal for races now is simply to do the best I can. I often see people at longer races (half-marathons and marathons) with strips of paper on their wrists, or writing on their arms, that show the times that they should be at each marker. Knowing how I am, I would forget to look at my wrist or arm to compare my actual times to the ones on the paper or my skin.
People often ask me if I follow a specific training plan. That's another Type B quality that I have. While I do run 4 days a week, I don't follow a formal training plan. I have had the good fortune to have had awesome training partners who passed on their knowledge to me. Even though how I train may seem old school, it works for me. I also have a variable work schedule and a rigid training plan would not work for me. The only thing that's "rigid" about my training plan is my weekly long run. But if I have to skip a long run, it's not a big deal.
Being a relaxed runner also helps me to discover new things. Yesterday I did my long run (1:40). I wanted to go on a route that I had cycled on a few years ago. But I ended up making a wrong turn and discovered a trail that is perfect for long hill runs. It's part of the Eibsee Run route. I didn't panic about the wrong turn; I just followed the trail until it was time to turn around. On the way back I made another wrong turn and ended up going home a different way than I planned. It was a very fun run and I discovered a new place for long training runs. Sometimes having a poor sense of direction (or as I say, "being GPS challenged") can be a good thing.
In my opinion, what has really turned me into a Type B runner is experience. After over 20 years of racing, I know that there will be good races and disappointing ones. There will be great training runs and ones where I will feel awful. My hope is to get the bad runs over with in training and save the good ones for race day. In my opinion, what has made me more relaxed about my running is that I feel like I have accomplished everything that I wanted to as a runner. I have worked my way up from running 5K races to marathons. I have won women's divisions of races, age group awards, and even won a team competition. Now I see myself as a model for what an older runner can accomplish. While others want to run beyond the marathon distance or qualify for the Boston Marathon, neither of those things really appeal to me. Even though I am a Type B runner, I am still quite happy with everything that I have accomplished over the last 20+ years as a runner. The important thing is pride in going out and doing your best regardless if you keep a log, have time goals, follow a training plan to the letter, or are a Type B runner.
Monday, June 4, 2012
The Good, The Bad, The Fun
Training for this October's Munich Marathon is going well so far. Yesterday's run of 1:40 was a tough one, but I made it. During the two days before my long run I was doing a lot of stair climbing at work. One of the buildings where I work is being renovated and we had to remove all of the small things from the rooms. By 10 a.m. I lost count of the number of trips I made up and down stairs. The next day I had to bring some miscellaneous items to the basement from the second and third floors. No, that building doesn't have an elevator. I started off Sunday morning with tired legs.
My strategy was to go slowly and take it easy. I was slower than usual, which was a good thing. Otherwise I would never have made it. I also opted to go on my flat course instead of the hilly one to save wear and tear on my quads.
The Good: When I started off, my legs felt like they were made of lead. I started questioning my sanity about doing this run. But after a short while the endorphins kicked in and my legs felt good. Another good thing was that I was able to run the whole way even though I started feeling crappy toward the end. My only stops were refueling breaks every 30 minutes. If I start feeling like I want to quit during the marathon, I can draw on this training experience to get me through it. The weather was also cooperative. It was fairly cool with a little bit of light rain. The rain was very refreshing.
The Bad: The last 20 minutes or so were a real struggle. It was the first time this year I had run for this amount of time. My last long run, two weeks ago, was 90 minutes. I had been increasing my time by 10 minutes every two weeks. But the stair climbing from the previous days caught up to me. I told myself just to keep putting one foot in front of the other and I would make it home. Another strategy of dealing with the heavy legs was imagining that I was in the late stages of a marathon and to draw on how I dealt with this feeling in previous marathons.
The Fun: Even though I have made yesterday's run seem like a total torture session, there were several moments where I actually had fun. I started off to Pink Floyd's "On The Run" on the iPod. That's the perfect title for beginning a run. Two of the songs that were on my iPod playlist were Blondie's "Maria" and "Victoria" by the Kinks. I immediately thought of Maria Hoefl-Riesch and Viktoria Rebensburg, who are the two big stars of the German women's ski team and among the very best in the world. Those two songs have nothing to do with either Frau Hoefl-Riesch of Fraulein Rebensburg, but the mind does strange things when all of my blood is going to my legs instead of to my brain. My thoughts then segued into thinking about ski season and having fun on the slopes. More fun happened on a side trail that I took. It was muddy due to recent rain. Some of the mud was deep and almost felt like quicksand. It was a good workout for the quads to lift my feet out of the mud. I also thought it was fun to get a little dirty.
Next week's long run will be another 100 minute one. My legs should be fresher because I won't be doing any heavy stair climbing for two days before it. But I'm sure there will be some fun moments and ones that will help me in my upcoming marathon.
My strategy was to go slowly and take it easy. I was slower than usual, which was a good thing. Otherwise I would never have made it. I also opted to go on my flat course instead of the hilly one to save wear and tear on my quads.
The Good: When I started off, my legs felt like they were made of lead. I started questioning my sanity about doing this run. But after a short while the endorphins kicked in and my legs felt good. Another good thing was that I was able to run the whole way even though I started feeling crappy toward the end. My only stops were refueling breaks every 30 minutes. If I start feeling like I want to quit during the marathon, I can draw on this training experience to get me through it. The weather was also cooperative. It was fairly cool with a little bit of light rain. The rain was very refreshing.
The Bad: The last 20 minutes or so were a real struggle. It was the first time this year I had run for this amount of time. My last long run, two weeks ago, was 90 minutes. I had been increasing my time by 10 minutes every two weeks. But the stair climbing from the previous days caught up to me. I told myself just to keep putting one foot in front of the other and I would make it home. Another strategy of dealing with the heavy legs was imagining that I was in the late stages of a marathon and to draw on how I dealt with this feeling in previous marathons.
The Fun: Even though I have made yesterday's run seem like a total torture session, there were several moments where I actually had fun. I started off to Pink Floyd's "On The Run" on the iPod. That's the perfect title for beginning a run. Two of the songs that were on my iPod playlist were Blondie's "Maria" and "Victoria" by the Kinks. I immediately thought of Maria Hoefl-Riesch and Viktoria Rebensburg, who are the two big stars of the German women's ski team and among the very best in the world. Those two songs have nothing to do with either Frau Hoefl-Riesch of Fraulein Rebensburg, but the mind does strange things when all of my blood is going to my legs instead of to my brain. My thoughts then segued into thinking about ski season and having fun on the slopes. More fun happened on a side trail that I took. It was muddy due to recent rain. Some of the mud was deep and almost felt like quicksand. It was a good workout for the quads to lift my feet out of the mud. I also thought it was fun to get a little dirty.
Next week's long run will be another 100 minute one. My legs should be fresher because I won't be doing any heavy stair climbing for two days before it. But I'm sure there will be some fun moments and ones that will help me in my upcoming marathon.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Why I Run
Why do I run? The short, and half-in-jest, answer is so that I can eat ice cream. The real reasons why I run are as follows:
I can do something that only a few people can do. I have been a bit of an underachiever in the professional aspect of my life. In school I was also a good student but not a stellar one. But when I run, I'm automatically part of an elite few. A while back I read that only 3% of the American population can run 3 miles (about 5 km). That's my warm-up! An even smaller percentage can run 10 km (6.2 miles), a half-marathon (13.1 miles/21.1 km), or a full marathon (26.2 miles/42.2 km). I may not be the fastest runner out there, but I'm in the top 3% of the population for something.
Setting a goal and then accomplishing it. Deciding to run a race, training for it, and crossing the finish line on my feet all require setting a goal and doing the necessary planning and training to accomplish it. My former running partner Bill told me what a long race finisher's medal is really all about. A medal proves that I ran a long distance on a particular day. But the real significance of that finisher's medal is that it represents all of the training that went into being able to earn it. The medal really shows that I accomplished a goal that I set for myself. Finishing long races has also given me the confidence to try new things that would have scared me before. If I can run and finish a marathon, I should be able to face the other challenges that life throws my way.
Getting to be outdoors and discovering new places. One of the fun things about long training runs is finding new trails and following them to see where they go. I have found some places off the beaten path and let myself wander on them. When I travel, I like to run because it allows me to see new and different things. One of my favorite running memories was in 1996 on the Greek island of Kalymnos. I went out for an early morning run. As I ran up a hill, I started hearing bells. The sound got louder as I climbed the hill. When I got to the top, there was a large herd of goats, with bells around their necks, and their herders. Running is also an outdoor sport. I would much rather exercise outdoors than inside a gym. I run outside in pretty much all weather conditions except for pouring rain and hail.
Fitness. Since I was a child, I have been a active person. As a child and teenager I did swimming, gymnastics, tree climbing, and lot of general running around outdoors. I was more of a tomboy than a super feminine girl. As an adult, I run, ski, and hike. I have always been physcially fit and can't imagine being unfit. Running keeps me fit and healthy. I'm one of those people who hardly ever gets sick. I believe it's because the running I do has strengthened my immune system.
Running allows me to eat ice cream. Ice cream is a major food group. OK, maybe not. The calories that I burn through running allow me to have some ice cream as an occassional treat. I don't have to feel guilty or worry about gaining weight from a summer ice cream cone because I know that I will burn off the calories on my next training run.
I can do something that only a few people can do. I have been a bit of an underachiever in the professional aspect of my life. In school I was also a good student but not a stellar one. But when I run, I'm automatically part of an elite few. A while back I read that only 3% of the American population can run 3 miles (about 5 km). That's my warm-up! An even smaller percentage can run 10 km (6.2 miles), a half-marathon (13.1 miles/21.1 km), or a full marathon (26.2 miles/42.2 km). I may not be the fastest runner out there, but I'm in the top 3% of the population for something.
Setting a goal and then accomplishing it. Deciding to run a race, training for it, and crossing the finish line on my feet all require setting a goal and doing the necessary planning and training to accomplish it. My former running partner Bill told me what a long race finisher's medal is really all about. A medal proves that I ran a long distance on a particular day. But the real significance of that finisher's medal is that it represents all of the training that went into being able to earn it. The medal really shows that I accomplished a goal that I set for myself. Finishing long races has also given me the confidence to try new things that would have scared me before. If I can run and finish a marathon, I should be able to face the other challenges that life throws my way.
Getting to be outdoors and discovering new places. One of the fun things about long training runs is finding new trails and following them to see where they go. I have found some places off the beaten path and let myself wander on them. When I travel, I like to run because it allows me to see new and different things. One of my favorite running memories was in 1996 on the Greek island of Kalymnos. I went out for an early morning run. As I ran up a hill, I started hearing bells. The sound got louder as I climbed the hill. When I got to the top, there was a large herd of goats, with bells around their necks, and their herders. Running is also an outdoor sport. I would much rather exercise outdoors than inside a gym. I run outside in pretty much all weather conditions except for pouring rain and hail.
Fitness. Since I was a child, I have been a active person. As a child and teenager I did swimming, gymnastics, tree climbing, and lot of general running around outdoors. I was more of a tomboy than a super feminine girl. As an adult, I run, ski, and hike. I have always been physcially fit and can't imagine being unfit. Running keeps me fit and healthy. I'm one of those people who hardly ever gets sick. I believe it's because the running I do has strengthened my immune system.
Running allows me to eat ice cream. Ice cream is a major food group. OK, maybe not. The calories that I burn through running allow me to have some ice cream as an occassional treat. I don't have to feel guilty or worry about gaining weight from a summer ice cream cone because I know that I will burn off the calories on my next training run.
Friday, April 6, 2012
The Blessings of an Injury
The title of today's post comes from Wendy Mogel's books The Blessings of a Skinned Knee and The Blessings of a B-minus. This post was also inspired by a chat that I had a few days ago with a Facebook friend about how injuries can actually be a blessing in disguise.
Being injured is no fun. The worst thing about being injured isn't the physical pain. Ibuprofen or Voltaren and ice can take care of that, or at least make it more bearable. It isn't non-runners telling you that being injured is the natural consequence of participating in a sport that's "bad for women." Most of those people have no credibility with me because they don't exercise at all, so I just ignore them. No, the very worst thing about being injured is seeing someone running down the street and wanting nothing more than to be able to do that too. Whenever that feeling came over me when I was "out of commission," I had to tell myself that I would be back running soon enough with proper rest and a slow comeback. Eventually my rational side would win and I would come back even stronger.
My late running partner Bill used to tell me that running injuries were caused by: 1) trying to increase speed too quickly, 2) trying to increase mileage too quickly, 3) not enough rest/recovery time after a big race, and 4) a combination of the first three things. When I look back on the injuries that I have had, I realize that he is right. All of the injuries that I have had were caused by one or more of those things.
Even though we don't realize it, injuries are really a blessing in disguise. They make you more appreciative of being able to run. Before I had my first knee injury, back in 1992, I took it for granted that I would always be able to run. After that injury, I realized that my ability to run was something that I could easily lose, which made me appreciate it more. Every day that I run injury-free is a real gift that I do my best not to squander.
Injuries have also made me slow down and think about why I started running in the first place. Most of my injuries were from trying to push the speed envelope. I then have to remind myself that I didn't take up running just because I wanted medals, trophies, plaques and personal records in every race. I run because I like to be outdoors exploring new places and seeing what there is to see. Sometimes it's best to slow down and see what would otherwise go unnoticed. Running is also a great way to keep fit and it keeps me young. It's something that I want to do for my whole life. The worst thing would be to push myself into a "career-ending" injury. OK, I also run so that I can eat ice cream and chocolate, but that's another story.
Another benefit of injuries is that they are a way of forcing you to correct errors. As Dr. Phil would say about a training plan that resulted in an injury, "How is that working for you?" Something obviously wasn't working, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten injured. Being down from an injury gives an athlete time to evaluate what went wrong and how to correct in in the future. For example, when I ran the Berlin Marathon in 1994, I had a very brutal training plan. It was to the point where the month before the race I couldn't wait for it to be over with so that I could rest. During the last third of that marathon one of my knees was really hurting. I walked a lot in the last 10 kilometers and was so glad to cross the finish line. After that race it took two months before I could run slowly for 20 minutes because of the knee injury. When it came time to train for the 2007 Munich Marathon, I looked back on what I did for Berlin and decided I needed a much different training plan that incorporated a combination of long runs and total rest days. Munich 2007 was a lot of fun and I came out of it with a personal record and some muscle soreness that went away after a few days.
I have been relatively lucky with regard to major injuries. In the past I had a couple of knee injuries which prevented me from running for more than a month. But with time and patience, I was back on the trails and stronger and wiser than before. That's not bad at all for over 20 years of running and racing. I have tendinitis in my knees, but know to increase my mileage very slowly in order to avoid it flaring up. Now the only time my tendinitis acts up is when it's time to get new shoes. Last year I had problems with calf cramps, but they seem to have (thankfully) disappeared. I also have tight hamstrings and use my massage stick on them after every run. This year I am feeling good and am seriously considering running the Munich Marathon this October. I'll train smarter, and not harder, and will hopefully stay injury-free.
Being injured is no fun. The worst thing about being injured isn't the physical pain. Ibuprofen or Voltaren and ice can take care of that, or at least make it more bearable. It isn't non-runners telling you that being injured is the natural consequence of participating in a sport that's "bad for women." Most of those people have no credibility with me because they don't exercise at all, so I just ignore them. No, the very worst thing about being injured is seeing someone running down the street and wanting nothing more than to be able to do that too. Whenever that feeling came over me when I was "out of commission," I had to tell myself that I would be back running soon enough with proper rest and a slow comeback. Eventually my rational side would win and I would come back even stronger.
My late running partner Bill used to tell me that running injuries were caused by: 1) trying to increase speed too quickly, 2) trying to increase mileage too quickly, 3) not enough rest/recovery time after a big race, and 4) a combination of the first three things. When I look back on the injuries that I have had, I realize that he is right. All of the injuries that I have had were caused by one or more of those things.
Even though we don't realize it, injuries are really a blessing in disguise. They make you more appreciative of being able to run. Before I had my first knee injury, back in 1992, I took it for granted that I would always be able to run. After that injury, I realized that my ability to run was something that I could easily lose, which made me appreciate it more. Every day that I run injury-free is a real gift that I do my best not to squander.
Injuries have also made me slow down and think about why I started running in the first place. Most of my injuries were from trying to push the speed envelope. I then have to remind myself that I didn't take up running just because I wanted medals, trophies, plaques and personal records in every race. I run because I like to be outdoors exploring new places and seeing what there is to see. Sometimes it's best to slow down and see what would otherwise go unnoticed. Running is also a great way to keep fit and it keeps me young. It's something that I want to do for my whole life. The worst thing would be to push myself into a "career-ending" injury. OK, I also run so that I can eat ice cream and chocolate, but that's another story.
Another benefit of injuries is that they are a way of forcing you to correct errors. As Dr. Phil would say about a training plan that resulted in an injury, "How is that working for you?" Something obviously wasn't working, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten injured. Being down from an injury gives an athlete time to evaluate what went wrong and how to correct in in the future. For example, when I ran the Berlin Marathon in 1994, I had a very brutal training plan. It was to the point where the month before the race I couldn't wait for it to be over with so that I could rest. During the last third of that marathon one of my knees was really hurting. I walked a lot in the last 10 kilometers and was so glad to cross the finish line. After that race it took two months before I could run slowly for 20 minutes because of the knee injury. When it came time to train for the 2007 Munich Marathon, I looked back on what I did for Berlin and decided I needed a much different training plan that incorporated a combination of long runs and total rest days. Munich 2007 was a lot of fun and I came out of it with a personal record and some muscle soreness that went away after a few days.
I have been relatively lucky with regard to major injuries. In the past I had a couple of knee injuries which prevented me from running for more than a month. But with time and patience, I was back on the trails and stronger and wiser than before. That's not bad at all for over 20 years of running and racing. I have tendinitis in my knees, but know to increase my mileage very slowly in order to avoid it flaring up. Now the only time my tendinitis acts up is when it's time to get new shoes. Last year I had problems with calf cramps, but they seem to have (thankfully) disappeared. I also have tight hamstrings and use my massage stick on them after every run. This year I am feeling good and am seriously considering running the Munich Marathon this October. I'll train smarter, and not harder, and will hopefully stay injury-free.
Friday, March 2, 2012
More Random Thoughts
Here are some more random thoughts while on the run or ski slope...
Frank Zappa Lives: There has been a lot of snow in Garmisch this winter, especially over the last month. People here take their dogs out for walks, even in the winter. When the dogs "answer the call of nature," they leave yellow spots in the snow. Whenever I see one of those yellow blots in the snow, the first thing that comes to mind is the classic line, "Watch out where the huskies go, and don't you eat that yellow snow" from Frank Zappa's "Don't Eat the Yellow Snow."
Murphy's Law of Late Winter/Early Spring Running: If there is a puddle or thin ice with water underneath, you will end up stepping in it and getting your feet soaked. This usually happens in the early part of a run. There's nothing like the feeling of wet, soggy socks when it's still fairly cold out. I do my best to put a positive spin on cold, wet feet by telling myself that it's good preparation for if it rains on race day. The whole idea of training is to prepare myself for anything that will come up on race day.
Looking Good for that Athletic Endeavor: I don't understand why women put on full makeup before doing something athletic. It's just going to be sweated off and will look worse than no makeup at all. Maybe I can understand having makeup on for skiing because some women are more into looking good than skiing well. They spend more time hanging out in the lodge than actually skiing. But why would anyone in their right mind put on full makeup before a running race? A runner is practically guaranteed to sweat. I can't imagine running with mascara dripping into my eyes. I run and ski with my face au naturel and leave the makeup for work or going out. I actually prefer the natural color that I get in my cheeks from the exercise, sun, and fresh air over the artificial color of makeup.
Fragrance and Exercise Don't Mix: Along with makeup, I don't get why people put on heavy perfume or cologne before exercising. It's not like the perfume/cologne will hide the sweat smell. In fact, there's almost nothing worse than a mixture of body odor and fragrance. The very worst thing is riding in a closed gondola with someone who bathed in fragrance just before heading up to the ski hill.
Eau de B.O.: For the record, I shower every day. But there are still many Europeans who don't believe in daily showers or bathing. Some of these folks seem to shower once a week or even monthly. They're the ones I usually end up nose-to-armpit with in the starting area of a race (one of the disadvantages of being short). I realize that I don't exactly smell like a bouquet of roses after running a long race, especially one in warm weather. But at least I don't stink beforehand. I can only imagine how the people with pre-race B.O. (body odor) smell after a race. I definitely wouldn't want to be in a closed space with them! A shower the night before race day would be a real kindness to the other runners.
Where's Miss Manners When You Need Her: There are certain unwritten rules about riding on a chair lift. One is to keep your hands and other body parts to yourself. For most people there is plenty of space. But I seem to end up sitting next to people who obviously don't understand these rules. Today I was on the 6-man chair at my local ski area. On my right was a British man who was into gesticulating wildly with his left hand. I lost count of the number of times I got poked with his elbow. He was totally oblivious to the fact that he was poking another person. Not only that, he was sitting partway in my seat. I was getting squished between him and my husband. At least he didn't have body odor or wear cologne.
Frank Zappa Lives: There has been a lot of snow in Garmisch this winter, especially over the last month. People here take their dogs out for walks, even in the winter. When the dogs "answer the call of nature," they leave yellow spots in the snow. Whenever I see one of those yellow blots in the snow, the first thing that comes to mind is the classic line, "Watch out where the huskies go, and don't you eat that yellow snow" from Frank Zappa's "Don't Eat the Yellow Snow."
Murphy's Law of Late Winter/Early Spring Running: If there is a puddle or thin ice with water underneath, you will end up stepping in it and getting your feet soaked. This usually happens in the early part of a run. There's nothing like the feeling of wet, soggy socks when it's still fairly cold out. I do my best to put a positive spin on cold, wet feet by telling myself that it's good preparation for if it rains on race day. The whole idea of training is to prepare myself for anything that will come up on race day.
Looking Good for that Athletic Endeavor: I don't understand why women put on full makeup before doing something athletic. It's just going to be sweated off and will look worse than no makeup at all. Maybe I can understand having makeup on for skiing because some women are more into looking good than skiing well. They spend more time hanging out in the lodge than actually skiing. But why would anyone in their right mind put on full makeup before a running race? A runner is practically guaranteed to sweat. I can't imagine running with mascara dripping into my eyes. I run and ski with my face au naturel and leave the makeup for work or going out. I actually prefer the natural color that I get in my cheeks from the exercise, sun, and fresh air over the artificial color of makeup.
Fragrance and Exercise Don't Mix: Along with makeup, I don't get why people put on heavy perfume or cologne before exercising. It's not like the perfume/cologne will hide the sweat smell. In fact, there's almost nothing worse than a mixture of body odor and fragrance. The very worst thing is riding in a closed gondola with someone who bathed in fragrance just before heading up to the ski hill.
Eau de B.O.: For the record, I shower every day. But there are still many Europeans who don't believe in daily showers or bathing. Some of these folks seem to shower once a week or even monthly. They're the ones I usually end up nose-to-armpit with in the starting area of a race (one of the disadvantages of being short). I realize that I don't exactly smell like a bouquet of roses after running a long race, especially one in warm weather. But at least I don't stink beforehand. I can only imagine how the people with pre-race B.O. (body odor) smell after a race. I definitely wouldn't want to be in a closed space with them! A shower the night before race day would be a real kindness to the other runners.
Where's Miss Manners When You Need Her: There are certain unwritten rules about riding on a chair lift. One is to keep your hands and other body parts to yourself. For most people there is plenty of space. But I seem to end up sitting next to people who obviously don't understand these rules. Today I was on the 6-man chair at my local ski area. On my right was a British man who was into gesticulating wildly with his left hand. I lost count of the number of times I got poked with his elbow. He was totally oblivious to the fact that he was poking another person. Not only that, he was sitting partway in my seat. I was getting squished between him and my husband. At least he didn't have body odor or wear cologne.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Happy 20th Anniversary (one day late)
Yesterday was the 20th anniversary of my first half-marathon. Somehow I got it in my head that I ran it on 9 December 1991. But I dug out my shirt from that race and it said 8 December.
I remember that race, and the preparation leading up to it, like it was yesterday. I had run my first 10K race in June 1991 and my second two months later. Just before the first 10K race, I had started running with the San Diego Marathon Clinic (SDMC). Through SDMC, which met on Sunday mornings, I met a lot of runners who were experienced at running half-marathons and marathons. They gave me the motivation to go for a half-marathon. After finishing my second 10K, I got an application for the San Diego Half-Marathon, which was the companion race to the San Diego Marathon. I filled out the application and sent in my entry fee. Remember, this was in the days before online registration. From reading books on running, I figured that four months was plenty of time to go from the 10K to half-marathon level. My longest runs up to that point were about 8 miles (13 km), so it was a matter of adding those extra 5 miles/8 km.
Through the SDMC I met Bill, who became a friend, running partner, and coach/mentor. He had run a lot of marathons and just about all of the local races. Bill loved helping new runners train for races. I learned almost everything that I know about long distance running from Bill on those Sunday mornings. When I told Bill that I wanted to train for the SD Half-Marathon, we started running together starting with 8-milers. When I was ready to move up to doing 10-milers (about 16 km), I was convinced that I wouldn't be able to do it. But, thanks to Bill, I made it. After my first 10-miler, he told me, "I thought you said you couldn't run 10 miles." During the last 100-200 meters of our long training runs, Bill had me practice what he called the half-marathon finish. We would go into a full sprint, with him saying, "Are you going to let an old man beat you?" (He was 12 years older than me.) To this day, when I do my final sprint at the end of a long run, Bill's voice is in my head asking if I'm going to let an old man win. Bill and I did my first 12-miler (just under 20 km) together. He had an injury, so we walked a lot of it. I started having doubts about being able to do a half-marathon because of the walking breaks. But the next week Bill led a small group of women on a 12-miler. Most of us in the group were training for our first half-marathon and we got a lot of good advice. I felt like Bill was picking on me with a lot of, "Stop looking at your watch," "You think too much. Stop thinking and just run," "Relax your shoulders, you're breaking form," and "Bring your hands down." Bill didn't give any of the other women corrections. After 12 miles of being singled out for everything under the sun, I asked Bill why he was picking on me and not on the others in our little group. He told me that I was the most talented runner of the bunch and wanted to bring out my best.
Race day dawned cold and overcast. In other words, it was an ideal day for a long race. The race itself couldn't have gone any better. One of the SDMC women who ran with me during the second 12-miler was with me at the start. She took off and started to leave me in the dust. I told her, "Remember what Bill said about starting slowly." She told me that she felt so good and wanted to go out quickly. I ended up passing her at around the halfway point. I made it a point to start slowly for the first two miles (about 3 km) and picked up speed at each mile split. I had a time goal of 2 hours and as I kept going, I knew that I would easily meet it. When I hit the 8-mile marker, I told myself that I needed to imagine myself starting to run around Miramar Lake, which is exactly a 5-mile route, and then I would be finished. Somewhere between the 10 and 11-mile marks, I saw Bill. He was running the full marathon and was running on the opposite side of the road toward me. I told him that I was doing great and gave a thumbs-up. When I saw him the following Sunday at SDMC, he confessed that he was struggling with running the marathon and was tempted to jump in and run to the finish line with me. But he thought that it was better for me to have my "moment of glory" on my own. At the last water point, somewhere between 11 and 12 miles, a woman came up to me and started complaining about the course (too hilly) and the weather (too cold and damp). She said that she would never run this race again. I told her that this was my first half-marathon and I was enjoying every minute of it. Even though I wasn't planning to get a drink at that point, I pulled out at the water table and got a cup of water just to get away from her. I wasn't going to let someone's whining ruin my fantastic experience. The finish was a slight downhill. I got my finisher's medal and felt like I just won an Olympic medal. My time was 1 hour, 50 minutes, and 37 seconds. Needless to say, I was on Cloud Nine driving home.
My first half-marathon medal had a place of honor in a frame on the mantle in our house in San Diego. When I moved to Germany, it came with me.To paraphrase the triathlete Mark Allen, that medal didn't just symbolize that I finished a long race. It's really a symbol of the training and effort that I put in to earn it. Even though I'm now a veteran of 15 half-marathons, my first one will always be special.
I remember that race, and the preparation leading up to it, like it was yesterday. I had run my first 10K race in June 1991 and my second two months later. Just before the first 10K race, I had started running with the San Diego Marathon Clinic (SDMC). Through SDMC, which met on Sunday mornings, I met a lot of runners who were experienced at running half-marathons and marathons. They gave me the motivation to go for a half-marathon. After finishing my second 10K, I got an application for the San Diego Half-Marathon, which was the companion race to the San Diego Marathon. I filled out the application and sent in my entry fee. Remember, this was in the days before online registration. From reading books on running, I figured that four months was plenty of time to go from the 10K to half-marathon level. My longest runs up to that point were about 8 miles (13 km), so it was a matter of adding those extra 5 miles/8 km.
Through the SDMC I met Bill, who became a friend, running partner, and coach/mentor. He had run a lot of marathons and just about all of the local races. Bill loved helping new runners train for races. I learned almost everything that I know about long distance running from Bill on those Sunday mornings. When I told Bill that I wanted to train for the SD Half-Marathon, we started running together starting with 8-milers. When I was ready to move up to doing 10-milers (about 16 km), I was convinced that I wouldn't be able to do it. But, thanks to Bill, I made it. After my first 10-miler, he told me, "I thought you said you couldn't run 10 miles." During the last 100-200 meters of our long training runs, Bill had me practice what he called the half-marathon finish. We would go into a full sprint, with him saying, "Are you going to let an old man beat you?" (He was 12 years older than me.) To this day, when I do my final sprint at the end of a long run, Bill's voice is in my head asking if I'm going to let an old man win. Bill and I did my first 12-miler (just under 20 km) together. He had an injury, so we walked a lot of it. I started having doubts about being able to do a half-marathon because of the walking breaks. But the next week Bill led a small group of women on a 12-miler. Most of us in the group were training for our first half-marathon and we got a lot of good advice. I felt like Bill was picking on me with a lot of, "Stop looking at your watch," "You think too much. Stop thinking and just run," "Relax your shoulders, you're breaking form," and "Bring your hands down." Bill didn't give any of the other women corrections. After 12 miles of being singled out for everything under the sun, I asked Bill why he was picking on me and not on the others in our little group. He told me that I was the most talented runner of the bunch and wanted to bring out my best.
Race day dawned cold and overcast. In other words, it was an ideal day for a long race. The race itself couldn't have gone any better. One of the SDMC women who ran with me during the second 12-miler was with me at the start. She took off and started to leave me in the dust. I told her, "Remember what Bill said about starting slowly." She told me that she felt so good and wanted to go out quickly. I ended up passing her at around the halfway point. I made it a point to start slowly for the first two miles (about 3 km) and picked up speed at each mile split. I had a time goal of 2 hours and as I kept going, I knew that I would easily meet it. When I hit the 8-mile marker, I told myself that I needed to imagine myself starting to run around Miramar Lake, which is exactly a 5-mile route, and then I would be finished. Somewhere between the 10 and 11-mile marks, I saw Bill. He was running the full marathon and was running on the opposite side of the road toward me. I told him that I was doing great and gave a thumbs-up. When I saw him the following Sunday at SDMC, he confessed that he was struggling with running the marathon and was tempted to jump in and run to the finish line with me. But he thought that it was better for me to have my "moment of glory" on my own. At the last water point, somewhere between 11 and 12 miles, a woman came up to me and started complaining about the course (too hilly) and the weather (too cold and damp). She said that she would never run this race again. I told her that this was my first half-marathon and I was enjoying every minute of it. Even though I wasn't planning to get a drink at that point, I pulled out at the water table and got a cup of water just to get away from her. I wasn't going to let someone's whining ruin my fantastic experience. The finish was a slight downhill. I got my finisher's medal and felt like I just won an Olympic medal. My time was 1 hour, 50 minutes, and 37 seconds. Needless to say, I was on Cloud Nine driving home.
My first half-marathon medal had a place of honor in a frame on the mantle in our house in San Diego. When I moved to Germany, it came with me.To paraphrase the triathlete Mark Allen, that medal didn't just symbolize that I finished a long race. It's really a symbol of the training and effort that I put in to earn it. Even though I'm now a veteran of 15 half-marathons, my first one will always be special.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Azeri Entertainment at the Gym
On Sunday it was pouring rain, so I had to run on the treadmill at the gym. When I use the treadmill, I watch one of the TVs while listening to the music on my iPod. Most of the time I watch whatever is on the TV in front of my treadmill. But that TV was showing what I call "lame CNN," or the Stateside version of CNN. I prefer CNN International because it has a more worldwide focus. Stateside CNN is very US-centric and sensationalistic, like any other American newscast.
The TV next to the one with "lame CNN" was on a Ukrainian channel that was showing a news report. When the news ended, a show called, "Catastrophe" came on. "Catastrophe" shows various disasters like plane crashes, train derailments, building collapses, etc. But it seems to focus on how people miraculously survived those particular disasters, at least that's what I got from watching without sound. As I was watching "Catastrophe," a man started using a treadmill to my right and decided to change the channel. I was a little miffed because he didn't ask if he could change the channel. He probably figured that I was watching the TV with CNN, which was directly in front of my treadmill. But I was starting to get into "Catastrophe" and also getting some practice reading Cyrillic characters (I have been slacking off on my Russian studies lately, and I know that Ukrainian is a different language than Russian. But they both use the Cyrillic alphabet.). I couldn't really complain since I was just watching the pictures on the TV and listening to music.
My fellow treadmill user changed the channel to Lider TV, which is a channel from Azerbaijan. For those who don't know where Azerbaijan is, it's located on the west side of the Caspian Sea near Armenia and Georgia. Azerbaijan is a former Soviet republic with the world's nicest people. I think that Azerbaijan means, "Land of the World's Friendliest People" in the Azeri language because the Azeri students I work with are very open and friendly.
The program on Lider TV that the other person on the treadmill wanted to watch was a very bad movie. It was the most low-budget movie that I've seen in a long time. It was sepia-toned, like a silent movie from 100 years ago. There seemed to be one camera angle. It was like the director never advanced beyond old silent movie filming techniques. The main characters in this film were members of a tribe in a jungle. All of the men in the movie had bad wigs with black shoulder-length hair. Their beards and mustaches were obvious fakes. Most of the men in the movie wore what looked like grass skirts, though there were a few who wore leopard print skirts. The few women of the tribe wore leopard print tops with their grass skirts. The chief wore a crown and the other men wore Viking helmets with horns, though several men wore headbands with Viking horns (they must have run out of money to buy helmets for all of the actors). But the best part of all was the tribesmen's teeth. They were supposed to look like fangs but ended up looking just like the plastic novelty teeth that my son gave out as party favors at his 10th birthday party.
There wasn't much action in this movie. The men did a lot of dancing around a fire and talking with each other. Sometimes they danced with spears and sometimes without them. At one point in the movie there was a dragon, which was really two people in a dragon costume. The tribespeople saw the dragon coming and fled as quickly as they could from it. What made that scene so comical was that the people in the dragon costume seemed to be moving out of synch with each other and extremely slowly. The tribe could have casually sauntered away from the dragon and still escaped from it. This movie really held my attention because it was so bad. I'm sure that if I could have heard and understood the dialogue, it would have been just as awful as the costumes. Sometimes it's best to just watch the action and listen to music. When I'm on the treadmill, it seems like I check the timer every 5 seconds because it gets pretty boring running in one place, even with music and silent TV. But I really got caught up in the hokeyness of that movie and actually kept my eyes on it instead of the treadmill timer. Maybe I just need to watch bad, low-budget foreign movies to keep indoor workouts halfway entertaining.
Another thing that I noticed about watching Azeri TV is the number of Western products that were advertised during the commercial breaks. I saw ads for: Nivea lotion, Dreft laundry liquid, Coca-Cola, and Pampers disposable diapers. It seems like as soon as Azerbaijan became independent from the Soviet Union, Western companies started selling their products there.
I'm hoping for some good weather so that I can run outdoors. But if I end up using the treadmill in the gym, I'll have to check out Lider TV's Low Budget Cinema to help pass the time.
The TV next to the one with "lame CNN" was on a Ukrainian channel that was showing a news report. When the news ended, a show called, "Catastrophe" came on. "Catastrophe" shows various disasters like plane crashes, train derailments, building collapses, etc. But it seems to focus on how people miraculously survived those particular disasters, at least that's what I got from watching without sound. As I was watching "Catastrophe," a man started using a treadmill to my right and decided to change the channel. I was a little miffed because he didn't ask if he could change the channel. He probably figured that I was watching the TV with CNN, which was directly in front of my treadmill. But I was starting to get into "Catastrophe" and also getting some practice reading Cyrillic characters (I have been slacking off on my Russian studies lately, and I know that Ukrainian is a different language than Russian. But they both use the Cyrillic alphabet.). I couldn't really complain since I was just watching the pictures on the TV and listening to music.
My fellow treadmill user changed the channel to Lider TV, which is a channel from Azerbaijan. For those who don't know where Azerbaijan is, it's located on the west side of the Caspian Sea near Armenia and Georgia. Azerbaijan is a former Soviet republic with the world's nicest people. I think that Azerbaijan means, "Land of the World's Friendliest People" in the Azeri language because the Azeri students I work with are very open and friendly.
The program on Lider TV that the other person on the treadmill wanted to watch was a very bad movie. It was the most low-budget movie that I've seen in a long time. It was sepia-toned, like a silent movie from 100 years ago. There seemed to be one camera angle. It was like the director never advanced beyond old silent movie filming techniques. The main characters in this film were members of a tribe in a jungle. All of the men in the movie had bad wigs with black shoulder-length hair. Their beards and mustaches were obvious fakes. Most of the men in the movie wore what looked like grass skirts, though there were a few who wore leopard print skirts. The few women of the tribe wore leopard print tops with their grass skirts. The chief wore a crown and the other men wore Viking helmets with horns, though several men wore headbands with Viking horns (they must have run out of money to buy helmets for all of the actors). But the best part of all was the tribesmen's teeth. They were supposed to look like fangs but ended up looking just like the plastic novelty teeth that my son gave out as party favors at his 10th birthday party.
There wasn't much action in this movie. The men did a lot of dancing around a fire and talking with each other. Sometimes they danced with spears and sometimes without them. At one point in the movie there was a dragon, which was really two people in a dragon costume. The tribespeople saw the dragon coming and fled as quickly as they could from it. What made that scene so comical was that the people in the dragon costume seemed to be moving out of synch with each other and extremely slowly. The tribe could have casually sauntered away from the dragon and still escaped from it. This movie really held my attention because it was so bad. I'm sure that if I could have heard and understood the dialogue, it would have been just as awful as the costumes. Sometimes it's best to just watch the action and listen to music. When I'm on the treadmill, it seems like I check the timer every 5 seconds because it gets pretty boring running in one place, even with music and silent TV. But I really got caught up in the hokeyness of that movie and actually kept my eyes on it instead of the treadmill timer. Maybe I just need to watch bad, low-budget foreign movies to keep indoor workouts halfway entertaining.
Another thing that I noticed about watching Azeri TV is the number of Western products that were advertised during the commercial breaks. I saw ads for: Nivea lotion, Dreft laundry liquid, Coca-Cola, and Pampers disposable diapers. It seems like as soon as Azerbaijan became independent from the Soviet Union, Western companies started selling their products there.
I'm hoping for some good weather so that I can run outdoors. But if I end up using the treadmill in the gym, I'll have to check out Lider TV's Low Budget Cinema to help pass the time.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Two Hours and Two Weeks
Today was my last really long run before the Munich City Run. I ran for two hours. During this run I took short walking breaks every 30 minutes to practice refueling. Only two more weeks to go. It always seems like race day is so far away and then it suddenly it's around the corner.
My run today was super. I started off a little slowly and had a strong finish. The whole time I felt really strong and confident. That's exactly how I'd like the race to go. While I was running I felt my late running partner Bill's presence. He was the one who trained me for my first half-marathon. I still follow his advice because it has worked very well for me over the years. Today was one of those days that I wished was race day. I didn't have any problems with either my calves or right hamstring. Woo-hoo! The only down side was that I got hungry a little over halfway through the run. Normally the combination of Gummi Bears and diluted Gatorade helps to cut the hunger, but it didn't this time. If I get hungry during the race, at least I had practice dealing with that feeling. When I got home I wolfed down a Power Bar.
I really feel like I'm peaking at just the right time. A while back I was slower and felt like my speed wasn't coming back. But it did and at the right time. Just about all of my training runs this past month have been good. There were times during the recent warm spells when I felt sluggish and had "bad" runs. At least I had the bad runs in training and not on race day. I'm really having a good feeling about Munich, especially if race day is anything like today.
Next week's long run will be 90 minutes. After that it will just be 5 km runs during the week to keep the legs loose. I found over the years that a one-week tapering period for a half-marathon works best for me.
The one thing that I'm hoping for in two weeks is cool weather. The race starts at 8 am, so it should start off fairly cool. June in Germany is unpredictable. It could be really hot, or it could be cool and rainy. But for the next two weeks my big wish is that my training continues to go well.
My run today was super. I started off a little slowly and had a strong finish. The whole time I felt really strong and confident. That's exactly how I'd like the race to go. While I was running I felt my late running partner Bill's presence. He was the one who trained me for my first half-marathon. I still follow his advice because it has worked very well for me over the years. Today was one of those days that I wished was race day. I didn't have any problems with either my calves or right hamstring. Woo-hoo! The only down side was that I got hungry a little over halfway through the run. Normally the combination of Gummi Bears and diluted Gatorade helps to cut the hunger, but it didn't this time. If I get hungry during the race, at least I had practice dealing with that feeling. When I got home I wolfed down a Power Bar.
I really feel like I'm peaking at just the right time. A while back I was slower and felt like my speed wasn't coming back. But it did and at the right time. Just about all of my training runs this past month have been good. There were times during the recent warm spells when I felt sluggish and had "bad" runs. At least I had the bad runs in training and not on race day. I'm really having a good feeling about Munich, especially if race day is anything like today.
Next week's long run will be 90 minutes. After that it will just be 5 km runs during the week to keep the legs loose. I found over the years that a one-week tapering period for a half-marathon works best for me.
The one thing that I'm hoping for in two weeks is cool weather. The race starts at 8 am, so it should start off fairly cool. June in Germany is unpredictable. It could be really hot, or it could be cool and rainy. But for the next two weeks my big wish is that my training continues to go well.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
7.9 From the Bulgarian Judge
Today's run was 1:40, the same as last week. My pace was slightly faster than last week's and I generally felt good throughout the run. I started slowly and finished on a fast note. It was one of those days where I wished that today was race day instead of it being five weeks off. The weather started off on the warm and humid side. I ended up having to take my first drink at around 22 minutes instead of at the normal 30-minute point. After that I ran mostly in the shade and took my normal stops at 30, 60, and 90 minutes. The weather also started to cool off as clouds moved in. Toward the end of my run it sprinkled
For the next two weeks I'll run for 1:50. Then it will be the last big run for exactly two hours. Since I started running for 90 minutes earlier this month, I've gone on a flatter course that more closely resembles Munich than the hillier course that I also train on. I'll also keep my "Diabetic's Delight" refueling combination for the race. A Diabetic's Delight is Gummi Bears and diluted Gatorade. Gummi Bears seem to stave off the hunger better than Power Bars or Shot Blox.
I would like to say that today's run was uneventful, but it wasn't. As I was heading downhill on a side trail off the bike path that parallels the main road to Austria, I tripped over a large rock and fell. It was just after I turned for home on an out-and-back course, so I was almost as far from home as I could be. At least the trail was empty, so I didn't have to worry about any injuries to my pride in addition to physical ones. That's what I get for daydreaming! The combination of daydreaming, a naturally short stride, and not lifting my feet high enough on longer runs when trying to keep a slower pace was a "perfect storm" for a fall. I landed on my right side with the impact on the outside of my right leg and forearm and also on both hands. The first thing that I noticed was all of the mud on my arm, leg, and hands. This past week there have been daily thundershowers, which made the trail muddy. The mud just didn't want to come off, even with with using my shirt to wipe off. I looked more like a mountain biker who had finished a long muddy trail ride than a runner. After checking for blood under the mud, and finding none, I carried on with my run. I was able to run back home without any problems or anything hurting. When I got home I cleaned up and found bruises on my forearm, the outside of my right knee, and on my butt around where the top of the IT band would be. I figured that fall would rate a 7.9 from the Bulgarian judge with most of the deductions for having unpointed toes and zero blood.
Next week I won't be running on that trail. It has nothing to do with taking a fall. That trail isn't long enough for me to run in for 55 minutes. When I do runs between 90 and 100 minutes and don't need to run hills, I'll be back on it.
For the next two weeks I'll run for 1:50. Then it will be the last big run for exactly two hours. Since I started running for 90 minutes earlier this month, I've gone on a flatter course that more closely resembles Munich than the hillier course that I also train on. I'll also keep my "Diabetic's Delight" refueling combination for the race. A Diabetic's Delight is Gummi Bears and diluted Gatorade. Gummi Bears seem to stave off the hunger better than Power Bars or Shot Blox.
I would like to say that today's run was uneventful, but it wasn't. As I was heading downhill on a side trail off the bike path that parallels the main road to Austria, I tripped over a large rock and fell. It was just after I turned for home on an out-and-back course, so I was almost as far from home as I could be. At least the trail was empty, so I didn't have to worry about any injuries to my pride in addition to physical ones. That's what I get for daydreaming! The combination of daydreaming, a naturally short stride, and not lifting my feet high enough on longer runs when trying to keep a slower pace was a "perfect storm" for a fall. I landed on my right side with the impact on the outside of my right leg and forearm and also on both hands. The first thing that I noticed was all of the mud on my arm, leg, and hands. This past week there have been daily thundershowers, which made the trail muddy. The mud just didn't want to come off, even with with using my shirt to wipe off. I looked more like a mountain biker who had finished a long muddy trail ride than a runner. After checking for blood under the mud, and finding none, I carried on with my run. I was able to run back home without any problems or anything hurting. When I got home I cleaned up and found bruises on my forearm, the outside of my right knee, and on my butt around where the top of the IT band would be. I figured that fall would rate a 7.9 from the Bulgarian judge with most of the deductions for having unpointed toes and zero blood.
Next week I won't be running on that trail. It has nothing to do with taking a fall. That trail isn't long enough for me to run in for 55 minutes. When I do runs between 90 and 100 minutes and don't need to run hills, I'll be back on it.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Wacky Weather Week and Running In Segments
This week the weather has been crazy. I had to run in the afternoons on Wednesday and Friday because of being on the early shift all week. We had a warm spell and I felt really sluggish on my shorter runs because of the warm temperatures and humidity. On Friday I stopped every 15 minutes for a drink, and I only ran about 6 km. It was in the low 20s C (70s F), but it felt much hotter because most of my route was in the sun. Because of the humidity, it felt like I was running through Jell-O. I was also slower than usual, but that's to be expected when the mercury rises.
Today it was about 5 C (41 F) and had rained earlier in the morning. Since it was threatening to rain again, I wore my rain suit over a pair of lightweight tights and a long-sleeved technical shirt. What's the best way to insure that it won't rain during a long run? Wear a rain suit. I spent most of my run wishing that I had left the suit at home. My Gore-Tex suit is great for keeping me dry, but I bake in it. It has been a very trusty running suit though. I bought it at half price just before moving to Germany in 1992. It was on the 50% off rack because it was the previous year's model. A couple of the pocket zippers no longer work, and the Velcro on the jacket's wrists has been sewn back on a couple of times. In addition to wearing it in the rain, it's also my winter running suit. Needless to say, the jacket has been used a lot over here. I mainly wear the pants in either very cold weather or rain.
Today's run of 1:40 was a good one. I'm right where I want to be at this point before the Munich City Run half-marathon (26 June). The calf problems that plagued me earlier this year have disappeared. It was an almost perfect run. I started slowly and picked up the pace as the run went on. My finish was fast. It's always fun to end a run with a short sprint and my late running partner Bill's voice in my ear saying, "Let's practice our half-marathon finish" and "Are you going to let an old man beat you?" When I finished in my driveway, I could almost feel one of Bill's post-run hugs. He always gave hugs to the women in our group after a long training run. My right knee is bothering me a little bit. But I'll put some ice on it and it should feel fine again.
One of the tricks that I learned from Bill is breaking up long runs into smaller segments. Bill used to say that a marathon was not one 26-mile run. It was really running 1 mile 26 times. For those readers who use the metric system, it would be running 1 kilometer 42 times. I do that trick with my long runs. Instead of saying that I'm going to run 50 minutes out and then 50 back, I break up my runs into segments. There are certain landmarks that I use for my checkpoints. The checkpoints are between 3 and 10 minutes apart. That system really helps on the return leg of a long run, when my legs are tired and starting to feel like they're made of lead instead of bone and muscle. Instead of thinking that I have 43 more minutes to go, I tell myself that it's only 6 minutes until I cross the main road, between 6 and 7 minutes until I re-cross the main road and go through part of the town of Grainau, then about 9 minutes from there to the Aldi market, then 4 minutes until the turn onto the road that takes me to the bike trail that leads back home. Even the bike trail is broken up into segments because partway through I have to cross a small road. The road is a natural checkpoint.
This next week is also supposed to be another strange one. It will start off cool and rainy and will end sunny and warm. The Alps are definitely not Southern California, where the weather is usually warm and doesn't change much. At least I'll be back on my normal work schedule this week and will be able to run in the mornings when it's nice and cool. Next week's long run will be another one at 1:40.
Today it was about 5 C (41 F) and had rained earlier in the morning. Since it was threatening to rain again, I wore my rain suit over a pair of lightweight tights and a long-sleeved technical shirt. What's the best way to insure that it won't rain during a long run? Wear a rain suit. I spent most of my run wishing that I had left the suit at home. My Gore-Tex suit is great for keeping me dry, but I bake in it. It has been a very trusty running suit though. I bought it at half price just before moving to Germany in 1992. It was on the 50% off rack because it was the previous year's model. A couple of the pocket zippers no longer work, and the Velcro on the jacket's wrists has been sewn back on a couple of times. In addition to wearing it in the rain, it's also my winter running suit. Needless to say, the jacket has been used a lot over here. I mainly wear the pants in either very cold weather or rain.
Today's run of 1:40 was a good one. I'm right where I want to be at this point before the Munich City Run half-marathon (26 June). The calf problems that plagued me earlier this year have disappeared. It was an almost perfect run. I started slowly and picked up the pace as the run went on. My finish was fast. It's always fun to end a run with a short sprint and my late running partner Bill's voice in my ear saying, "Let's practice our half-marathon finish" and "Are you going to let an old man beat you?" When I finished in my driveway, I could almost feel one of Bill's post-run hugs. He always gave hugs to the women in our group after a long training run. My right knee is bothering me a little bit. But I'll put some ice on it and it should feel fine again.
One of the tricks that I learned from Bill is breaking up long runs into smaller segments. Bill used to say that a marathon was not one 26-mile run. It was really running 1 mile 26 times. For those readers who use the metric system, it would be running 1 kilometer 42 times. I do that trick with my long runs. Instead of saying that I'm going to run 50 minutes out and then 50 back, I break up my runs into segments. There are certain landmarks that I use for my checkpoints. The checkpoints are between 3 and 10 minutes apart. That system really helps on the return leg of a long run, when my legs are tired and starting to feel like they're made of lead instead of bone and muscle. Instead of thinking that I have 43 more minutes to go, I tell myself that it's only 6 minutes until I cross the main road, between 6 and 7 minutes until I re-cross the main road and go through part of the town of Grainau, then about 9 minutes from there to the Aldi market, then 4 minutes until the turn onto the road that takes me to the bike trail that leads back home. Even the bike trail is broken up into segments because partway through I have to cross a small road. The road is a natural checkpoint.
This next week is also supposed to be another strange one. It will start off cool and rainy and will end sunny and warm. The Alps are definitely not Southern California, where the weather is usually warm and doesn't change much. At least I'll be back on my normal work schedule this week and will be able to run in the mornings when it's nice and cool. Next week's long run will be another one at 1:40.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
The 90-Minute Mark
Today I ran for 90 minutes and felt pretty good afterward. I've caught up to where I want to be at this point before the Munich City Run. My legs actually feel better today than they did last week, when I ran 80 minutes. There are two good reasons for that: 1) I started wearing new shoes earlier this week. It was time for the old ones to be retired; and 2) Last week I ran on a hilly course and went faster than I probably should have. Today I went on a flat course, which is more like how Munich will be. I also took the first half of the run very slowly and really forced myself to keep the pace slow.
My run was close to perfect. I started off slowly and held the slow pace for the first half. One of my problems is that I start turning on the speed too soon on my long runs. I'll look at my watch at an early checkpoint, tell myself that I'm slow, then speed up too much. My former running partner Bill used to tell me that the word "slow" was not part of my vocabulary. Today I gradually increased the pace as the run went on instead of starting quickly. I even had enough energy for a fast final 200 meters. After I finished, I still felt like I could have run some more.
My son took the last of our Gummi Bears with him when he went skiing today. I've been using Gummi Bears as fuel along with diluted Gatorade for about a year. Instead of the Gummis, I brought a Power Bar with me. Gummi Bears must expand in my stomach because they seem to cut the hunger pretty well. Even with taking bites of the Power Bar, I was still hungry. In the past I would get hungry at the one-hour mark. When I felt hungry today, I looked at my watch. It said 58 minutes, which is close enough to an hour. But even after a couple of bites of Power Bar and a good drink of Gatorade, I was still starving. It didn't help matters at the 1:14 mark when Duran Duran's "Hungry Like The Wolf" started playing on my iPod. I told myself that I was close to home to keep my mind off of my hunger. I felt like the plant in "Little Shop of Horrors" that kept saying, "Feed me!" When I got home I finished the Power Bar and Gatorade and felt less hungry.
A couple of months ago I would never have thought that I would make it to this point because of calf problems. At one point during today's run I felt a small twinge in my left calf, but it went away within about 20 seconds. Now I'm feeling that I'll be able to do the City Run next month without any problems. As it gets closer to race day, I'll go online and register for it. Next week's long run will also be 90 minutes on the same course.
My run was close to perfect. I started off slowly and held the slow pace for the first half. One of my problems is that I start turning on the speed too soon on my long runs. I'll look at my watch at an early checkpoint, tell myself that I'm slow, then speed up too much. My former running partner Bill used to tell me that the word "slow" was not part of my vocabulary. Today I gradually increased the pace as the run went on instead of starting quickly. I even had enough energy for a fast final 200 meters. After I finished, I still felt like I could have run some more.
My son took the last of our Gummi Bears with him when he went skiing today. I've been using Gummi Bears as fuel along with diluted Gatorade for about a year. Instead of the Gummis, I brought a Power Bar with me. Gummi Bears must expand in my stomach because they seem to cut the hunger pretty well. Even with taking bites of the Power Bar, I was still hungry. In the past I would get hungry at the one-hour mark. When I felt hungry today, I looked at my watch. It said 58 minutes, which is close enough to an hour. But even after a couple of bites of Power Bar and a good drink of Gatorade, I was still starving. It didn't help matters at the 1:14 mark when Duran Duran's "Hungry Like The Wolf" started playing on my iPod. I told myself that I was close to home to keep my mind off of my hunger. I felt like the plant in "Little Shop of Horrors" that kept saying, "Feed me!" When I got home I finished the Power Bar and Gatorade and felt less hungry.
A couple of months ago I would never have thought that I would make it to this point because of calf problems. At one point during today's run I felt a small twinge in my left calf, but it went away within about 20 seconds. Now I'm feeling that I'll be able to do the City Run next month without any problems. As it gets closer to race day, I'll go online and register for it. Next week's long run will also be 90 minutes on the same course.
Monday, August 9, 2010
The Grand Experiment (of One)
One of my former training partners says that running is an "experiment of one." It truly is. We runners design our training programs to fit our bodies and needs. Each of us is unique with our own way of doing things. Some runners can run every day, while others focus on doing three quality runs a week. I know runners who religiously follow a particular regimen to the letter and others who decide how far they will run based on how they're feeling that day. There are runners who run for a particular distance without keeping their time and those who run for a particular length of time without measuring the distance.
My particular running schedule comes from various plans that I read in "Runner's World," taking advice from more experienced runners, plus my own trial and error. If something seemed interesting, then I would try it and see how it worked. If I liked it, then I added it to my program. If it didn't work for me, then I didn't do it again. I've found that running 4 days a week works best for me. I have one long run, one short (5 km) run, and two medium length runs every week. One of the medium runs includes hills and the other is in the valley, where it's flat. These days I've been alternating my long runs in the hills and on a flat route. I don't follow a set plan, other than the weekly long run. This flexibility works for me, because I have a lot of self-discipline and am internally motivated. I'm able to easily change my running schedule based on any changes in my work schedule. My training plan may not work for someone who is just starting out running or who lacks self-discipline.
When I want to run a marathon or half-marathon, I get out the calendar and plan out my long runs. I tend to plan more long runs than most training programs use, which often puts me ahead of "where I should be" at a given point in time. There are a couple of reasons for this: 1) The only way to prepare the body for the marathon or half-marathon experience is to do long runs. If I do enough long runs in training, and gain more experience by doing them, I'm better prepared for anything that might happen in a race. I'm also more confident in my ability to go the distance. 2) If I get sick, injured, feel like my body needs a little break, or go for a hike or bike ride instead of a run, I know I will still get in enough long runs to be fully prepared for the race. I can skip a long run now and then without feeling guilty.
I never understood the training programs which take a person from "Zero to Marathon in 12 Weeks." Some people swear by them; and runners using them have finished marathons. But they're not for me. First of all, they build up the mileage too quickly for my knees. It takes me longer than a lot of people to train for a long race because of tendinitis in my knees. If I build up gradually, I don't have any problems. The other problem is that they only have one (or two maximum) runs in the 18-20 mile (30-32 km) range. As I said in the preceding paragraph, that's not enough to really prepare the body for a marathon.
When I had a blog on Yahoo 360, there was a woman who followed a 16 week marathon training program to the letter. It seemed like she just couldn't deviate from the plan no matter what was occurring in her life. She ran strictly for mileage and would have her husband drive a course to get the mileage exact. I read her blog on 360, mainly because I was fascinated that someone could be so rigid in following a program. This woman did every single workout exactly as it was written in the plan. To her credit, she finished the marathon, so following that program worked for her. But her way just wouldn't work for me.
The thing about running is that it just doesn't matter how long or far you run, or if you strictly adhere to a particular plan or have more flexible workouts. What matters is that the program that you choose to follow works for you.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Last Big Run Before Munich
Today was my last really long run before the half-marathon on the 27th. It was one hour going out and 57 minutes coming back. I went a little faster than I intended and will probably pay for it tomorrow. But I didn't really feel like I was pushing myself. At least I made it a point to start off slowly. There was even enough energy for a closing sprint for the last 200 meters.
The training for this run reminds me a lot of when I trained for my first half-marathon back in 1991. Overall it has gone extremely well. I still follow the program that my late running partner Bill used with me almost 20 years ago. It works for me, so I stick with it. I don't like a lot of the new long distance training programs which take a runner "From Zero to Marathon in 12 Weeks." First of all, they build the mileage too quickly. I have tendinitis in my knees. Those programs would aggravate my tendinitis in no time. As long as I build my mileage slowly, my knees don't bother me at all. They also don't have enough long runs in them. A typical quickie half-marathon program will only have 1-2 runs in the 10-mile (16 km) range. Short marathon programs only have one 20-miler (32 km). I believe that a runner needs a lot of long runs to prepare the body for the rigors of a long race. For my upcoming race I had at least 5 runs in the 15-16 km range and 3 between 19 and 21 km. Because I do so many longer runs, I know that I'll be able to handle the distance and the time on my feet. I may not get a PR at my age, but I know that I'll finish without any problems.
Next week's long run will be either for 1:30 or 1:20. I'll do 1:30 if I decide to do the flatter course that I've been running on for the past three weeks. If I decide to run in the hills for a change of pace, I'll go for 1:20. When I wake up next Sunday I'll see how I feel and decide then. I can't believe that race day is almost here.
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