Week Nine- Santa kicks my butt.

Yikes, this was a tough week. You know what happens at Christmas time? We eat. We eat a lot. Everyone cooks and bakes and there's food everywhere and you don't want to waste it and what can one more cookie do bad for you anyway...

It can feel like bricks in your butt when you are trying to run ten miles.

That's right folks, this week, my long run was only ten, and I swear it hurt more than my 13. If you look back you will see I know my diet is a deciding factor in how I run. I ate badly anyway. You will see I know what it's like to find my pace- that if I am working too hard I am doing it wrong. I had no choice- anything over a walk was work.

I now know what it means to need to detox, not from the evils of drink mind you, but from too many cookies and pies and delicious fudge and bourbon balls. Yikes.

Then, I also seem to have tweaked a muscle in the front of my left shin. Most aches go away after the body warms up in a mile or so and I feel better. This one just gnawed at me for ten miles. Trying to rest it before my Tuesday Week 10 run, but I might have to take it easy into the New Year. Not sure how that will affect my plans to do the full marathon in February. I might be back to the half then and the full in May.

Now, two pieces of good news. My darling wife the Lovely Jennifer slipped the Nike+ iPod attachment into my stocking, so I now get complete instant feedback on distance, pace, and time while digging my mix of tunes. For the price, it's really a handy tool.

Secondly, our new family dog, Eighball, is a runner. I have him doing up to two miles at a time with me, and frankly I think he wants to do more. He keeps looking at my like I am a panzy when we stop. He loves it, but has a tendency to make me go a little faster than I necessarily want to. We'll try two and a half miles when I run again!

So, a mixed bag week, possibly leading into a rest week, much as I would hate to. Runners beware that guy in the red suit- he's no good for you!



See?

Week eight- This is a Fluke...

What is not a fluke however is the fact I managed to do another 13+ run on Saturday! Now, in the interest of full disclosure let me also mention it hurt like hell.

We'll get back to that though. As the week started, I again wanted to avoid the early morning cold, so I did my Tuesday run in the afternoon on a track. Though the track part itself is not the most scenic of run paths, the path encircles a brand new astroturf field. I mentioned last week I had done a little bit of barefoot on it, and this week, I did a bit more. I noticed when my feet started getting used to it, my toes splay like little antennas looking for the best way to land. Then, when I was done and put my shoes back on, it was like my feet could feel every thread and seam in my socks. I really want to do more of this in the coming weeks.

On Wednesday I did get up early and did six miles. Good steady run, no major issues or epiphanies to report. I was a bum on Thursday and allowed events to overcome running that day, but also wanted to rest up a bit before the big run I had planned for Saturday.

Those of you who are familiar with Sierra Vista- my usual running area is the loop formed from Buffalo Soldier Trail, Avenida Cochise (by the sMall) and Highway 92. Starting near Coronado and Avenida Cochise, most of it has a really nice multi-use path around it, and a full loop is just a smidge over six miles. I have worked out little addendums (most of which you can find charted on www.mapmyrun.com under username fb.DaniF.734) to get the odd distances. Last week, My 13+ was a six mile loop with the seven mile loop and little loop combo. This week, I decided I wasn't going to go over the same ground twice.

Starting at Gas City on Buffalo Soldier Trail, I circled Sierra Vista (BST to 92, 92 to the Fry/92/90 intersection, up the bypass to the East Gate of Fort Huachuca, then back down BST to Gas City). According to the aforementioned Map My Run site, that's 13.44 miles. What the site didn't tell me is that it's a tough damn route!

I've obviously driven all these roads, but in the safety and convenience of a lovely car like Helena, you don't notice certain hills, or which way the wind blows, or where there are shoulders on the road or not. You just drive. Running means a lot more interaction with your surroundings, and in many ways that is good, and I never got bored on this run, but a lot of these factors slowed me down. Also, by the time I hit the Fry/BST intersection by the Main Gate, my legs were extremely angry with me. We persisted though, and finished up (though they aren't really speaking to me in anything right now other than sharp wincing pain), but my pace was much slower than I usually run- My long runs have been consistently between a 9:30 and 9:50 mile pace, but this one was 10:18.

So I felt a bit of a setback, until the little voice in my head I attribute to God (who always speaks in Johnny Cash's voice) said, “Hey dumbass, you just did two half-marathons in a week's time and you can still walk.” Johnny had a point.

When I started this little venture, I didn't believe I would quite be ready for a half-Marathon by the end of the full schedule. Yet by week eight, I have done two of them. Something funny I did notice; the zombie-like out of breath pain-filled state of being I was in at mile 11 Saturday, I used to hit at mile three. Anyone reading this who's shared time with me in Our Firm will remember Foster the non-runner. Right now, the non-runner is gone.

That's something I want to make sure isn't a fluke...

The Golden Pace

Pictured above is the "Golden Ratio" which is apparently God's little blueprint for creating things (1.618 or 2 to 3 to 5). This particular blog post has little to do with the Golden Ratio, but I was looking for signs of that perfect thing... because I came really close to finding it this week.

My runs during this, week seven, were pretty good. Due to inclement weather on Tuesday, I saved my week starter until the afternoon, which was pretty pleasant. I was also at a track with astroturf, so I ran a bit on there barefoot- much more foot friendly than my ill-fated tryst with barefoot running on a treadmill. Now, then I got up the next morning and did six miles, only about 12 hours later, and the legs felt tired, but I kept through. Thursday, I also ran in the afternoon, and was looking forward to Saturday, which was to be a 12 miler- the longest I would have ever run.

Saturday morning was clear and nice, so out I set. My first three miles felt kind of blah- not bad, just not in the groove. Then, during mile four, I found it- I found the Golden Pace. Don't ask me what the difference was, but for the next 8 miles, my feet and legs were perfectly comfortable, my breathing was relaxed, my mind was thoughtful, and I kept feeling like I was just floating down a river. Seriously, it was damn near transcendental. As I went up my last hill, the legs got a little tired again, but nothing too bad. So I kept going. Instead of 12, I did 13.1; the length of a half-marathon. Now, I won't do a real half-marathon until February as you recall, but I know for sure I can, and my time was about two hours and seven minutes- no world's records certainly, but for a guy who wouldn't run more than three without being chased by pitchfork wielding villagers, I felt pretty good.

And today, the day after, I feel pretty good. We'll see how my two day burn feels tomorrow, but I think all this running is starting to add up- see? Math, now my Golden Ratio allegory works.

Did learn another lesson this week though- always trim your toenails before a long run. The ring toe (well, what else do you call it? It's the one by the pinkie) on my left foot decided to get all Ted Bundy on my middle toe, and in my euphoria I didn't notice until I pulled off my sock and had a momentary urge to call CSI: Sierra Vista in. Looked worse than it was though, and next week proper grooming will precede all long runs.

I hope it's still Golden...

Eating up week six...

This was a tough week. I had been considering taking it easy this week to let some of the tweaks and aches in my heels and calves lighten up, but I came to realize what my far greater problem is. It's something I learned from this guy in the third grade:


You are what you eat.

See, Monday nights we like to go to the local kid friendly pseudo-bar and watch football while hanging out with friends. Knowing I should have had salad and maybe a beer, I had two (including a tall Guinness) and a Chipotle Chicken sandwich. Yes it was delicious, but come Tuesday morning at 4:30 AM, I felt like the beer and chicken had become anvils which had gone directly to my ass and feet. Keep in mind- I was still thinking it was just time for a rest anyway, so I didn't think too much of it, severely abbreviated my run and went about my day.

That night for dinner, I had lean chicken and vegetable wraps in tapioca paper with salmon sushi. In short, lots of protein and greens, with enough carbs to be fuel. My Wednesday run (which I started out of habit... yes, getting up early and running is in fact getting to be a habit) was five miles, and I felt great. Cue beer and pizza dinner...

Cue really dragging ass again on my Thursday run! I realized dinner had a direct correlation on how I felt on my runs. So Friday night, regardless of being at a Military formal, I boosted up on the carrots and cucumber salad, with some leafy greens as well, and had just a small sampling of beef and fish. Even with the beer to wash it down, my seven miler on Saturday (light week on the Higdon plan anyway) was just fine. Later on I worked on my car, and feeling manly I decided I would run some more, but the Lovely Jennifer made Chili Verde (healthy and delicious) so I tucked that motivation away to use for later.

So, this week's Sesame Street lesson? As the Giuseppe Arcimboldo painting from the 16th Century at the top shows... you are what you eat.