Not the Intended Effect

So this was supposed to be a gripey entry because my run this morning got off to a horrible start. I wanted to run in my Vibram Five Fingers this morning (quite a few people walking around here in them) and enjoy some pseudo-barefootin' on the Waikiki beach. Ran into trouble early on. Found out my particular model of Vibrams, the Sprints, do not keep out sand. They are pretty open around the top:




In fact, they sort of pull it in and rub it against your feet, so it's kind of like running with two rock polishers on your feet. So, I stop to get the sand out and return to the nice brick walkway which spans the main drag.

When your feet are sandy, sweaty, and oceany? The VFFs don't want to go back on. After about five minutes of struggling and murmuring (and getting “is he a stalker?” looks from the cute surfer girls nearby) I got them back on and went back about my business.

Down the road a ways, I pushed the button on my iPod to see how far I'd gone. I have a little gadget which attached the Nike+ sensor to the strap on my Vibrams. When, however, I had replaced my shoes, the sensor slipped too far to one side, so it wasn't reading anything. Six minutes of running, and I was reading a 10th of a mile at a 37 minute per mile pace. Even I'm not that slow.

I fought the urge to just give up and go back. This run was ruined, but well, I was in Hawaii, and enjoying the early morning weirdness all cities ooze. So I kept going, and shut off the iPod altogether. No music no mileage; just running.

It was awesome.

See, I had realized when I first really got into this running thing that my Firm had made me obsessed with speed, which was why I hated running. I am beginning to think though, that somewhere along the line, I became equally obsessed with distance. I had to record my distance and watch my little Mike graph go up on the website. It occurred to me while running this morning that I told myself, “self, let's keep going and just have a fun run.” Wait a minute; didn't I do this whole running thing BECAUSE it was fun? Shouldn't EVERY run be a fun run?

Without that little timey-whimey distance device, I was free. I stopped to look at a store, and I sprinted across intersections getting ready to change. I was again out running for the sake of running. As a side effect, I wasn't focused on how I was running, and in my Vibrams I fell into a natural barefoot stride, and felt like I could go all day. Unfortunately, I have to go shower and go to work.

I do love my Nike+, and will continue to measure time in my Nikes, but I think when it's just me and the Vibrams, it's going to be just me and the Vibrams. Even in the Nikes, I am going to need to be careful about how wrapped around the axle I get with distance. I remembered today why I want to run, and that is just to enjoy it. Thanks Nike, I will just do it.

See the Town...

I'm going to tell you a little secret; if you want to get to know a city, I mean really get to know a city, you want to run in it. Before, I have talked about how I ran the Rocky Run in Philly, and with my buddy Jim in the suburbs there. I ran in Tampa Bay out onto the causeway watching the calm water and mistaking feral cats for hungry alligators. Let me tell you about running in Vegas.

Middle of June, I was in Vegas for my Brother-in-Law's wedding, and sure enough, I packed the Nikes to see if I could get a run in. Luckily, the first night there was neither enough alcohol or Star Trek slot machine binges to keep me from getting up in the morning to see the Strip at a 10 minute mile pace at 6 AM. What a difference a few hours makes!

We all know they Strip at night; the throngs of people, the heavy smell of smoke and booze, the din emanating from the open casinos, the clacking of semi-pornographic cards vendors are run through their fingers to try to get you to take their wares in order to have the young lady featured on the card show up in your room. (I have an inkling the young lady who would show up at your room bares little resemblance to the wanton nude on the card; I never intend to find out for myself though, so if anyone can clue me in, I would appreciate it!) That's the Strip at night, a swirling Dali-esque miasma of light and sound made surreal by the inability of your senses to absorb it all into your consciousness. So what happens when the sun comes up?

There I was, six in the morning, out to see for myself. I started from the Las Vegas Hilton, running past the Sahara, and looping around between it and the Stratosphere to bring me onto Las Vegas Boulevard, and toward the center of everything. At first, it was very quiet, and I didn't see a whole lot of anyone. Pleasant really. Then, the cast began to assemble.

First, there was the college age man, looked like a jock, still stumbling under the effects of whatever inebriation he had indulged the night before. He looked angry, and kicked at things on the ground. I passed him carefully, and was probably about a hundred yards past him when I heard him exclaim at the top of his lungs, “FUCK!” A bestial cry which I can only assume involved a female of his species who was no longer in his company. The homeless (I assume) littered the sidewalks, causing me to on at least one occasion actually jump over one's sprawled legs reaching nearly to the street. Perhaps I stereotype to call on the word “junkie” but that kind of unconsciousness I think comes only at the point of a needle. I saw another homeless man, his tweed jacket threadbare, his shoes white leather and very pointy. His hat was like something Radar O'Reilly would wear on “M.A.S.H.” and under his arm? A laptop computer. His prized possession? Spoils of theft? I suppose those aren't mutually exclusive states of being.

When I got to the Venetian, I saw the gnomes. OK, that's the image that came to my head, but it was the workers who came out, cleaning the street, working on touching up the front of the hotel. They were all in blue coveralls, and probably 90% Hispanic, and I knew their jobs were to disappear before the tourists would normally appear on the streets.

I experienced another surreal moment as well. I was running south, so the sun was rising to my left as I ran. Once I made it to the main Strip however, I nearly didn't see the sun; it was instead eclipsed by the Venetian, the Wynn, etc., as I made my way down an artificial canyon of artificial places. Then suddenly, the world reversed; the light and heat of the rising sun came from right, as if the world had shifted around me, or hours had passed and the sun was now setting, that golden light one can only find in the afternoon illuminating the now cleaned sidewalk before me. Then I realized it was only a reflection of the real sun, bouncing off the Trump Hotel at least half a mile from me, but projecting as if it were our own star. In but a moment, maybe a few dozen meters later, the world reverted to rightness and I left that glare. When I blinked though, the reflected sun still showed in negative in the phosphenes in my closed eye, a temporary burn on my retina.

There was one more group out there as I ran as well; the other runners. We nodded in camaraderie as we traveled through this great and terrible landscape, almost alien in our own way moving through, yet part of the surroundings which made for Vegas in the morning. Each of us was seeing the city in a way others would not. Each of us sharing an intimate glimpse behind the curtain of Vegas' wizard.

I love seeing new places this way. As I write this I am sitting in the Atlanta airport, delayed in a trip to Norfolk, Virginia. I hope the delay doesn't stop me from getting up in the morning, the one morning I will be here this week, and getting in just a couple miles, just a quick glance behind the curtains of this city as well. I will let you know...


TIME PASSES

Well, here it is, the next day, and after one of the most hellacious travel sessions I have ever had the misfortune to endure, I finally actually arrived at Fort Monroe, just across Chesapeake Bay from Norfolk. Didn't get to bed until midnight, but I knew I would be angry with myself if I didn't get up and make the effort. So, 6AM, sure enough I was up at at it.

I am so glad I did. Beautiful run through historic buildings, and a great traffic free path along the ocean. This West Coaster saw his first sunRISE over the ocean. Saw the seagulls and had a great run. Also ran around the historic moat in the middle of the Fort and stormed the battlements. Fixed everything wrong with the day before, and set the tone for the rest of the day. I mean, look at this!








Can't wait to find out what city I get to run through next. No better way to get the feel... but if in Vegas, watch for the junkies.

Philadelphia Story

I had the great fortune to spend two weeks in Philadelphia. Wonderful city, and if you stick to the University of Pennsylvania and City Center areas, a runner's paradise. Early on I went looking, and started running the trail which follows the Schuylkill River (I am told that's pronounced “SHOO-kull). This path runs along a row of historic buildings and statues, past the UPenn “boat house” where their crew teams practice, next to the Museum of Natural History, and gives a great view of the skyline. It's safe because at any given moment you are sharing the trail with dozens of walkers, runners, and cyclists, in this weird little ballet of getting in your workout without killing each other. Somehow, it all flows together, and everyone gets where they're going! It was very much like running on the island that the Wii Fit puts you on- very busy with varied terrain. Every run out there was gorgeous.



I also fulfilled a long held desire- I did the Rocky run! All through the city, and right up the Benjamin Franklin Parkway to take the steps (twice, because who knew when I would be back) and had my picture taken in front of the Rocky statue.

It was weird, because it felt like a culminating event. Like I was at the end of my own montage of training which played through my head for the whole run. I feel like it's time for a new chapter in my running, and I am as curious as anyone to see what that will be!




I also learned what it's like to bond through running. I have mentioned my buddy Jim here (and I hope he doesn't mind if I post his picture). He's been a runner for a long time, and I scoffed about it to myself quite a bit. To myself, because though I have known Jim for over a decade, we'd never met. We started reading each other's G.I. Joe stories on some long dead fansite, and he sent me an email. We got to talking, and just never quite stopped doing it. Since then we've gifted each other's kids, and he gets the yearly “State of the Fosters” Christmas card, while we get the yearly “Jim's family's getting their tree” card. However, we never met face to face, or even talked on the phone.



Jim, it turns out, lives right outside Philly. So, we made the time and I took a train out to a beautiful suburb and for the first time we met. And do you know what we did? We ran together. Now, I slowed him down something awful, and he kicked my ass most of our run, but we did a little over four and a half miles while I weezed through wonderful geek talk about Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, and of course, G.I. Joe. Then we had a great cheesesteak, and I kept his wonderful family (and delightfully tolerant wife Bridget!) up late swapping stories. Great people and a great time. See, I will admit now, I was a little nervous. People can be different than they are in email and that goes for me too!

(Ask my Uncle Lou, oy vey what a story...)







What if they thought I was a jerk in person? We had that run though, and through it, we were talking like the old friends we really were. Can't wait to get him out Arizona way to do some coyote dodging runs!

So, Philly has been great. New runs, new friends, new chapters in the life of the Running Dan.
Now, I need to go get some new shoes. My faithful Nikes are about to give up the ghost. I will keep you posted...

Gonna fly now!

Week 12- Hunting the Wall

Simon Pegg finds The Wall in “Run Fatboy Run.”

I knew this was going to be a telling week for me. As you may recall, to get my training schedule to line up with the actual Marathon, I had to drop a couple of weeks, and those weeks were ones which enabled a bit more rest as I get up into the real miles. That meant less recovery now, to ensure I can “taper” toward the end. That's when you do shorter runs to make sure your muscles are conditioned, but also healed up in time to devote all you can to the race.

Started this week by splitting up one of my runs. I typically don't run on Mondays, but I was feeling the itch, and Eightball wanted to run, so we went out and did three miles, then I ran two miles with co-workers on Tuesday. I took that opportunity to calibrate my Nike+ sensor as well, which I think is still measuring me a little short (more on that later).

Wednesday was a ten miler in the morning, and I thought I was in trouble. It was early, and obviously still dark. My path though was going to be along streets, so I didn't wear a light since I would be running under streetlights, right? No- the city of Sierra Vista is far more sporadic in their placement of lights than I would have thought. Having survived two other areas of running in pitch dark, at about mile 8.5, the sidewalk suddenly dropped into a drainage ditch- without warning, my right leg didn't find the ground until it had dropped about six inches more than it should. I felt everything wrench, and thought sure I had just re-aggravated every back pain I had ever had. Carefully continuing, everything seemed OK though, and I finished up. Had a few more aches during the day, but nothing too awful.

Kept it at three Thursday with an early morning jaunt with Eightball. He is getting better and better at running along without stopping to remark light poles and weeds. Every now and then we still have a little bit of jerking me out of my stride. It was funny though- we approached a hydrant, the much clichéd urinary target of male dogs everywhere, and I stopped in expectation. He instead gave it a look nearly identical to the one Clark Kent gives the half-phonebooth in “Superman: The Movie” and moved on. Oh, that Eightball- always keeps me guessing.

Then came Saturday. The big one. The schedule said 18 miles. That's not all though- when I ran with my running partner last week, he had mentioned “the Bonk.” See, there's “The Wall” which is when your body WANTS to give up, but you can knuckle down and keep moving. A “Bonk” is different. You're done- your body gives out and there's no way through. You just stop running. So, since he'd mentioned it, it's been floating in the back of my mind, like the demon the old X-Plane pilots used to think lived in the sound barrier, waiting to strike you when you were unaware. If the Bonk was going to find me, it was going to find me on my 18 mile run.

So, out I went. With every step though, I got a little bolder. I felt really good. That's when it occurred to me- my training had gone really well. I'd slowed down on long runs here and there, but I hadn't really even hit the Wall. Those fantasies of me and the wolf chasing the gazelle popped into my head, and I got mad. I was going to go hunting all right- I was going to go hunting the Wall.

I didn't turn around at the nine mile point, I kept going. I finally turned around a little over ten, and started back. At least I think it was 10- at one point I compared my sensor with a mile marker on the Highway. My sensor only gave me .9 miles to the full. That meant I was likely even further... I do love the Nike sensor, but that little margin of error, fine in shorter distances, can really add up. If it was consistently off by .1, that meant an extra mile of real distance at 10. More on this later too.

So, having turned around, I was heading back. I reached a point, about a 13 mile mark, where staying the course was going to bring me in about 20. I took a left. I was feeling good, and started to play with the idea of doing a full 26. I was looking for that wall, and though I was feeling the burn, I wasn't burning out. I was however getting low on water. Then about mile 15, I saw a park with a water fountain! All I had to do was refill my bottle, and I would be unstoppable! Huzzah!

For the second time this week, the city of Sierra Vista failed me. A nice little park, pleasant fields- the water was turned off. Not wanting to be stupid, I turned toward home, still wondering if I would find the Wall along the way. Keep in mind- even heading toward home, I was still across town.

In the end, I reached my street, and Nike+ told me I had done 19 and a half miles. That definitely means 20, and again, if the loss was consistent, potentially closer to 22. I never did find that Wall, and the Bonk is still out there waiting, but you know what else is out there, and not too far away?

Twenty-six point two.

You are my gazelle, twenty-six point two, and I am coming for you. The Wall can't save you now.

(By the way, the above picture is as it says from “Run Fatboy Run” which is a delightful movie about a slob who decides to do a Marathon to prove his love to the woman he left at the Altar. As with pretty much any Simon Pegg movie, I highly recommend it!)

Turning it up to 11

Thank you Nigel.

Indeed, here we are at week 11, and it was a good week on the road to 26.2. First of all, on Tuesday I played around with some more barefoot running, doing ¾ mile on astroturf sans zapatos, and then did another ¼ mile on the actual hard rubber track. I even sprinted at the end. I tried on and then ordered some Vibram 5 Fingers this week, and think I have come to the decision to focus on seriously building my barefoot run after the marathon. I'll keep you all posted on that.

Wednesday was a good eight miler, but I thought my new Nike+ was hitting blind spots. After my long weekend run though, I think I know what's really going on. See, the Nike+ really just works on a gyro in the sensor- no map or GPS data at all. When you buy it, there's an option to calibrate it, but it says it works for most people. In my test runs it seemed pretty good so I didn't calibrate. I realize now it is slightly off, and what's happening is that small disparity gets exponentially bigger with longer distances. Anything under four is not enough of a loss to be noticeable- eight was nearly a half mile off, and Saturday's long run was over a mile off. Not a big deal, I just need to calibrate it this week. Though, there may be something to be said for thinking I only ran a shorter distance when I really did a longer...

Thursday was neat. Ran two miles with someone from work in the afternoon, then came home and did two and a half miles with Eightball. Did some more sprinting with him, but found out he gets tired around two if I let him do that too much. He too needs to learn to pace himself for distance runs. Plus, we at times have to stop and pick up poo. (Told you I would.)

On the weekend, I was back with my triathlete mentor from week five. As always I end up doing a faster pace with him, but we cut a mean 17 in 2:35. Now, Nike+ read me at 15.7, but the $600 GPS the people who do triathlons feel they need put us near 17. Either way, though it was work at the end, I came out of it with only a little soreness, and feel pretty good the next day. Again, these runs seem to go faster with a partner to talk to. He also mentioned that with the type of miles I am doing weekly, I can drink four pints of Guinness a week completely guilt free- my body will absorb the carbs like a sponge. If someone had told me that ten years ago, I'd be Jesse Owens by now.

Did some tweaking on my training schedule. The Higdon plan I have been following is 18 weeks long, and my race actually falls in week 16. I want to make sure I have a couple of weeks taper before the big run (that's the slowdown that lets your body recover before it all counts). Therefore, I am going for 18 miles this coming Saturday, and 20 the weekend after that. It's going to be a little more of a challenge, but I am feeling up to it. The injuries are quiet, the feet are behaving, and the vibe is good. Lost Dutchman Marathon, here I come!

Now, pardon me while I finish off this Guinness. Yep, that's a good vibe all right...

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 Four! (trying to keep it clean- grody things ahead though!)

Here I am, one month in. Given last week's injury I was afraid for a while this was all for not, and I was going to sink back onto my couch and return to the land of too many doritos, but I seem to be OK.

Started doing lots of calf stretching- read online that a lot of achilles tendon aches aren't the tendon at all, but the calf, which makes much sense since the injury I had earlier this year WAS MY CALF (duh Dan...). After copious amounts of various calf stretches, I ran and found the pain in my heel went away after about half a mile. Weird huh? Run more, hurt less. I know, I'm shocked too. Been that way all week though, I get my calf good and loose and warm, the heel feels fine, and even when it does hurt, it's a mild ache rather than the limpy 'ouch' producer it was last week.

Got to do my Wednesday four miler along the Courtney Campbell Causeway across old Tampa Bay. Did it just so the sun was coming up as I finished. Running right along the quiet water. Thought I was being stalked by an alligator, but in fact it was a whole population of feral cats living in the bushes along the water on the north side. One ran alongside we for a while, but I don't think was enjoying a jog as much as fleeing in terror from the bald stomping menace. Here's some pics, sorry the first one's blurry (I was running!)




Came back to Arizona that day, so my Thursday three miler was at an elevation about 5000 feet higher than my Wednesday four miler. Yes. I noticed. Very much.

Then Saturday was a new long run, and again further than I had ever run before. Did nine miles, broken into an out and back around Buffalo Soldier Trail and the Sierra Vista Mall. Took my body a while to get into it, and even at the turn around, I was not convinced this was a good idea. Learned some valuable lessons about running that long:



1) Urinate first. Hit me about mile three. Felt my bladder slosh like my camelback for a while. Then, oddly, by the time I got home, I didn't have to any more... (lesson 1.5- drink more water).



2) They aren't lying when they say wear something over your nipples. Tingly (relax BTW- first of all, that's not me; no metal hanging from my chest, and second, it's a dude. Though, I've always wondered why male nipples were OK and Female nipples weren't. At least a woman's nipples have practical application- mine just rub my shirt when I run. End of nipple tangent).



3) It doesn't matter if it is a clearly labeled multi-use path with signs telling you to pick up your dogs' droppings, someone won't. Only one fleet of foot spry twist kept me from befouling my Nike Free Everyday 2s this morning. Luckily I was not incoherent at the time. I love dogs, I loved my dog- I always picked up her poo when we were out.

It'd be nice to have a dog to run with. I'd pick up poo...



Next week: TEN MILER!

Ow. No really, ow!

Week three- I am on the road, on a business trip to Florida, and in an unfamiliar area, in particular downtown Tampa. Beyond that, my work here means doing my running at 5AM. So, being a scared Southern Arizona hick, the last thing I wanted to do was go running at 5AM in an VERY urban area I don't know at all.

So, I decided to use the treadmill in the hotel.

I used to do treadmills all the time. Having recently learned how to run properly however, my love of the hamster wheel has come to an end. Running just my three miles Tuesday was tedious agony. So (trust me, this is getting us to a point), on Wednesday, I decided I would try something new. I would do the majority of my four miles on the treadmill normally- then I would do two minutes- only two minutes- barefoot.

Barefoot running as a concept is something I discovered reading the MacDougal book "Born to Run." Found out there's a whole cult of barefoot runners, and even some podiatrists are beginning to talk about the wonders of SMART barefoot running. I recently bought a pair of deck shoes- just enough soles to protect the skin, but thin enough to allow your feet to feel the running surface and adapt appropriately. Think about it: if you wear arch supports, you keep the muscles in the arch from ever doing their job. What muscle can you constantly rest and expect to have perform when you need it? In "Born to Run" they even talk about a guy who learned how to barefoot run, and lost two shoe sizes because his arches came back.

The good news is, one of my feet was very ready for barefoot running, and could have done more than the two minutes. The bad news was my injury from six months back in my achilles structure in my right foot was not as healed as I thought.

So, this week was a bit of a set back. My achilles inflamed and hurt all day, and indeed still is achy. I have been icing it every night, and did not run Thursday. Today (Saturday), though scheduled to run five miles (light week on my Higdon plan), just a light jog felt off, so I did five miles of elliptical instead. Going to keep nursing this and see where I am Tuesday when I am scheduled to run again.

Now, though this is a setback, I am not horribly discouraged. My uninjured foot was very ready to try barefooting- I have been wearing the Nike "Free Everyday" shoes which is their cunning plan to get me to pay as much for a shoe with half the padding of a normal set of Nikes. They want in on the Vibram 5 Finger market. They have been a good shoe though, and are getting me weaned off lots of padded thudding shoe which keeps my feet from doing what they are supposed to. I am still convinced I can do it, but I need to work on my tendon in the right foot.

Also, I have flex time built into my schedule- I stated from the beginning my marathon isn't until May, so the Higdon schedule (which wraps up in February) gives me a little more time. I do want to be healthy and not damage my foot.

Lastly, now that I have not been able to run for a few days, I realize that I miss it! I WANT to run! Finally breaking the horrible habits my Firm has instilled in their completely wrongheaded ideas on running is making me into a believer. Had you told me three months ago I would want to go out and run, that I would ENJOY doing five or six miles, I would have called you a dirty liar and kicked you in the knee. Now... it is so.

So, my report this week is not as great as I want it to be, but I am still in the game. You and I will find out together how long it takes Achilles to stop killing the Trojans in my foot (that's a really forced play on words- sorry).