PR's

I am not a patient man. Particularly when it comes to running. I started running in 1998 and my first road race was the following spring when I bandited (sorry, not sorry) the Boston Marathon. So, yup. Zero to 26.2 in less than a year. If that’s not an impatient (stupid?) runner, then I’ve yet to meet one.

For a while, my impatience served me well. Pushing me every day.  I’d keep track of it with a handwritten PR sheet for all my local runs from 2 miles up to 16 miles. And I’d try to finish my next training run faster than my previous one - every single time out. It worked well and I got quick, quickly. But, after a while it began to wear me down and burn me out. I soon realized that if I wanted to keep doing this “running thing” long term, I’d need to add easy days to my hard days. This training regimen has worked for me with varying degrees of success.

Over the last 20 years, I’ve had my ups and downs with running. Most of my lifetime road race PR’s are from late 2008 to early 2009. And, since then, it’s been a real struggle trying to get back to that level of fitness. Pushing the envelope of patience, which (when combined with age) resulted in a series of set-backs, injuries and badly shaken confidence. So, recently I resolved to give up trying to be the 2009 me, and just focus on being the best 2017 me I can be.

Fortunately I’ve been to able to put together a streak of uninjured running lately. This has helped me build fitness (of course) but it’s also given me confidence to push my body a little bit more and go after some PR’s. Not 2009 lifetime PR’s, mind you, but local training run PR’s like I used to do back when I first began running. Except this time out, I track them by Excel spreadsheet rather than by hand. And also, I don’t try to run them every day, like I did 20 years ago, but rather once a week. A weekly “speed challenge”, if you will.

My current streak of local training run PR’s has just hit 8 weeks. On distances that range from 1 to 20 miles, terrain that ranges from road to trail, and difficulty that ranges from flat to mountainous. Again, my paces on these runs aren’t anywhere close to what I used to train at in 2008-2009, but bit by bit I’m improving. And, so far, it’s making me excited about running fast again and keeping me motivated to continue working at it. Patiently.

Act Three

The three-act structure is a model used in writing which divides a fictional narrative into three parts (or acts) often called the “setup”, the “complication”, and the “resolution”. The first act establishes the main characters, their relationships, and the world in which they live. Later in the first act an incident occurs that confronts the main character. And his attempts to deal with this incident lead to a second, and more dramatic, situation.

The second act typically depicts the main character’s attempt to resolve the problem only to find himself in ever worsening situations. The reason he seems unable to fix his problems is because he does not yet have the skills to deal with the forces that confront him. The end of act two is generally the main character’s lowest point in the story both physically and emotionally.

In the third act, the main character must not only learn new skills but arrive at a higher sense of awareness of who he is and what he is capable of. This cannot be achieved alone and the main character is usually aided by others. The end of the act three, and ultimately the story, results in a climactic sequence in which the main tensions are brought to their most intense point and the dramatic questions are answered.

Now, as I enter my third decade of running, this idea of a three act play really struck a chord with me...

I started running in 1998 as an over-weight, out-of-shape, 29-year old. During the decade that followed I met a lot of awesome runner friends, figured some things out, ran a bunch of road marathons and achieved most of my running PR’s. But came up short in accomplishing what I believed to be my ultimate goal – finally running a sub-3 hour marathon. This was my set-up.

In my second act, I discovered the joys of trail and mountain running. And, over the next ten years, slowly transitioned out of road running completely and into trail (and ultimately ultra) running full time. The culmination of act two saw me run my first 100 mile race and then suffer the consequences - injury, low energy, and lack of motivation. Leaving me at the lowest point in my running story, thus far. A most definite complication.

Which brings us to act three…

At 29 years I started my running career. At 39 years I reached my highest point before shifting gears. Now, as I approach 49 (and beyond) years, I’m faced with a rather daunting question: What Next?

Will I chuck trail running completely and go after that ever-elusive sub-3 road marathon again? Will I attempt another 100 miler? Will I learn the skills required to finally slay my demons? Will I arrive at a higher sense of awareness of who I am and what I’m capable of? And, will my 50’s help me arrive at some sort of running resolution?  Who knows?

Hopefully you'll stay tuned. And we can both find out together.

I Ran Today

I ran today...
Something that I'd been able to do without fail for 18 years.

I ran today...
A simple act that I will no longer take for granted. 

I ran today...
4 bitterly cold but gloriously pain-free miles.

I ran today...
For the first time in 3 long months.

I ran today...
And now anything seems possible again.
























I ran today.

Taking the “Cross” Out of Training

I am a runner.

First and foremost. And I intend to remain one, whilst I breathe.

So, I’ve always approached cross-training as that “thing” I do when I can’t run. As evidenced HERE, HERE, and most painfully HERE. But, all of that is starting to change for me now. Now, after having gone 2 months without running (and 12 months without running pain-free), with no end to my Plantar issues in sight, I’m beginning to approach my cross-training routine a little bit differently. I’ve decided to take the “cross” out of training and it’s making a world of difference!

I fully realize that it’s just a mental thing, calling “cross-training” just plain “training”. But, many times it’s our minds (not our bodies) that keep us from taking that next step in our physical development.

So, instead of coming to the gym and getting on the bike, or the elliptical, or the stair climber and doing them as a substitute for running. I’m doing all those things for their own sake. Instead of thinking about how much less satisfying these exercises are compared to running, I’m focusing on how much better they are for me than sitting on my ass, drowning my sorrows in cookies. And, instead of dwelling on my lost endurance I’m embracing my increased cardio.

Sure, this all may sound like the mad rationalizations of a desperate runner wanna-be. But, since I’ve developed this new training attitude I’ve hit the workouts harder and with more purpose than I ever have before. I've been more upbeat and encouraged about coming to the gym. And, I’ve dropped 8 pounds in the process!

So, that’s gotta be worth something! Right?

New Blog

I've started a new blog about all things NOT related to running...

...It's about what life is like as a full-time stay-at-home Dad, part-time adventure seeker, and recent transplant to Down East Maine.

And, it's called Permanent Vacationland  Check it out!

http://permanentvacationland.blogspot.com/

Chapter 1

Never Again

I rediscovered running in 1998, when I was an out-of-shape, over-weight 29-year old who desperately needed a lifestyle change. “Why not try running again?”, I said. “It couldn’t possibly be worse than it was in high school.” Well, turns out it takes significantly more effort to propel a 240 pound body than it does for one that’s half that. It was then, in this state of self-induced suffering, that I decided I needed a goal to distract me from the pain I was feeling. So I vowed that, once I could run a mile without stopping, I’d start training for the Boston Marathon. For some strange reason this seemed like a logical progression to me. Little did I know, that decision would start me on the journey of profound joy and stunning disappointment that is long distance running.  

When I began, I had no idea where running would take me. All I knew was that I needed to get out, get away, and do something. Because, when you feel like you’ve lost all control, something is a whole lot better than nothing. At the time, there was trouble at home and it seemed like my world was crashing down all around me. I needed a way to release the stress and tension of the day, to have some time and space for myself, to clear my head, expand my lungs and refresh my spirit. So, I opened the front door of my house and went for a walk.           

I was living in Marblehead Massachusetts  at the time, where there were a great many historic houses, picturesque parks and scenic seascapes to look at during my time on the roads. I enjoyed meandering through town just soaking it all in and letting my mind wander          

After a while, I wasn’t satisfied with merely walking everywhere. Too impatient for that, I wanted to cover some serious ground. Walking just plain took too long. So, I would walk a little, jog a little, then repeat – morphing into something I fondly called “wogs”.

After a few months of this, I got a little better, started losing weight and the wogs slowly became jogs. Then, I decided to take the next step and began timing myself. Nothing hardcore. I’d just check the clock on the cable box when I headed out the door and check it again when I returned. In the beginning, it took me 30 minutes to complete my 2.5 mile circuit. But, with each subsequent trip, the duration got shorter and my confidence grew as a result. As the confidence grew, so did the distance - from 2.5 to 4.5, and from 4.5 to 7. But, regardless of how far I jogged, I always did so in a loop. Because I was afraid that, with all that was going on at home, if I did an “out and back” I might reach the turn-around point and just keep on going.

When I officially started “training” for the Boston Marathon, I didn’t know anything about the science of marathoning. The words tempo, interval and fartlek meant nothing to me. All I knew was that in one year’s time, I needed to find a way to run, walk, or crawl 26.2 miles. And that I should probably trade in my Nike “high-top” basketball sneakers for some real running shoes. After building up slowly over the course of the year, I got my long run up to 16 miles and proclaimed myself “ready” for the 1999 Boston Marathon. On race day, I started at the back of the pack, with the rest of the unqualified runners (or bandits), and began what turned out to be an arduous, 26.2 mile wog from Hopkinton to Boston. More than 4 and a half hours later, I crossed the finish line on Boylston Street a bruised and bloody mess. I staggered to the curb, crumpled to the ground and exclaimed to no one in particular, “Never again!”

It’s been 16 years (and 20 marathons) since that fateful day. And what started as a walk has turned into so much more. I’m now a fortunate husband, a proud father of four, and a semi-proud owner of a three hour, zero minute and twenty two second marathon personal best. So, just how did I get from “Never again” to running twenty marathons - and now to signing up for my first 100 mile race? Well, it’s actually a rather interesting answer. And one that will unfold through the collection of stories that wind their way through the remaining pages of this book.

I hope you enjoy the journey. I know I did.

…mostly.

Mill City Madness

The Mill Cities Relay is a 5-leg, 27.1 mile foot race from Nashua, New Hampshire to Lawrence, Massachusetts. But, that information alone doesn’t even begin to convey what MCR really is. The Mill Cities Relay is quite possibly the biggest, single-day team event in the country!

 
MCR began in 1984 as a way of celebrating the end of the local road racing season and determines bragging rights among 21 participating Merrimack Valley area running clubs. The race kicks off not with a starting gun, but with the drop of a ceremonial mill city brick. The mileage for the five leg distances are 5.6, 4.8, 2.5, 9.4 & 4.8. And, points are awarded to teams in each of 18 different divisions – male and female aged 18 to 80. Teams finishing in the top 3 in their respective division get a trophy brick with a small plaque on it. 

However, the trophy that everyone covets is the one they bestow upon the running club that scores the most overall points in the race. This amazing trophy was painstakingly assembled with a working gear from an old mill building, set upon a finely crafted four-sided wooden base and crowned with a “winged-victory” trophy top. The base of the trophy has engraved upon it the very history of the race! With a running list of the first, second, and third place clubs for each of the 31 years it’s been run. It’s a sight to behold and hold. And, it’s quite possibly the heaviest trophy in all of sports, weighing in at just over 40 pounds! Yes, more than 6 pounds heavier than the Stanley Cup!

Man I Hate That One

My primary running focus these days (besides not embarrassing myself at Reach the Beach) is my training for the 2007 Clarence DeMar Marathon. The goal for my "lucky" thirteenth marathon is to break 3 hours for the first time and hopefully better Lance Armstong's time in the process. Speaking of which, I'm working on getting Joannie Benoit to come run Clarence with me so she can elbow other runners out of the way, grab my Gatorade, and whisper encouraging words in the final few miles. Her people have yet to get back to me. I'll keep you posted on that one.

Anyway, of the three core workouts I do for my marathon training (speed, tempo & long) the one I look forward to the least is, without a doubt, the tempo run. I don't know why, there is just something about it that causes me dread. Maybe, it's because I do it at lunchtime on Fridays after a long week of work, during the hottest time of day, on a hilly course. Or, maybe, it's simply because it just hurts more than any of my other workouts.

Speed Work is fun for me. I think getting out on the track and running with 50 or 60 of my teammates is a blast. It's sort of like a race, but much more enjoyable. And, the distances are short enough (400's, 800's, 1200's, etc.) that by the time it really starts to hurt, you get to stop and jog. Long runs are also easy for me. I'm not blessed with a lot of speed, but I can run all day without a problem. I just dial in my pace and I'm set. Tempo runs are, by far, the hardest for me. So, it's no surprise that I like enjoy them the least. However, it's the Tempo run above all others that I find to be the true barometer of my running fitness.

This week’s Tempo run was scheduled for 8 miles in total. 1 mile of warm-up going right into 6 miles at Tempo pace, and then 1 mile of cool down. In order to psyche myself up for this one I tried to emphasize the positive. It's been a month since my last race, so my legs should feel fresh ... I'm down to 184 pounds, so I should feel lighter... The weather has cooled from earlier in the week, so it should feel easier, etc. The goal for this workout was to run a controlled 6:10 avg. pace during the tempo section with no mile of it (including the uphill sections) in over 6:20. I chose 6:10 because it was just slightly slower than the 6:08 pace I averaged the last time I ran this 8 mile tempo run, just before the New Bedford Half.

My first mile was 7:16 (nice & easy). Then I picked it up for the first of my tempo miles. Mile 2 was 6:11 (not bad considering the hill in the middle). Mile 3 was 6:16 (mostly up). Mile 4 was 6:01 (mostly down and feeling ok still). Mile 5 was 6:14 (up & down and starting to fall apart a bit). Mile 6 was 6:26 (mostly up and fighting the urge to make this a 4 mile tempo). Mile 7 was 6:12 (mostly down and I just couldn't get my legs to turn over). Mile 8 was 7:29 (a flat and wobbly jog back).

My totals were: 8 miles in 52:05 for a 6:30 average overall pace. 6 tempo miles in 37:20 for a 6:13 average tempo pace (or 3 sec/mile slower than my goal). I was a little bit disappointed that I didn't meet my pre-workout goals. But, all in all, it's not too bad for this point in the training. I had hoped to take advantage of the cooler temperature, but I didn't. Maybe next time it will be hailing, or something, and I won't have to do the workout at all.

Man, I hate that one...

Postscript: This story first appeared in my "pre-blog" blog called Mine Falls Milers and I'm re-publishing it  today because now I wish I could run 6:13's and be disappointed about it.