Running a Marathon is like having a baby.

You ever talk to a mother? Of course you have, but talk to one about having babies. In particular those who actually managed to have a second one. Despite the agony of the first, somehow they still manage to come around and drop another one of the little buggers. It's like the pain from the first time just becomes a fuzzy memory; they remember that it DID hurt, but don't remember what the pain was like. I have often thought this was a defense mechanism built in by God or Darwin to ensure we keep having babies.

I realize that marathons are about the same way. When I think of training for the last marathon, all I think about is how accomplished I felt, and how good it was to run. Right now, as I am training up for #2, it hurts! "It wasn't this bad last time!" screams the voice in my head.

Frankly, he's full of it. I just went back on this very blog to see how I was feeling around Christmas last year. Read this tale of woe!

Now, I remember writing that, and finding the evil Santa pic, but I don't remember the pain! I should actually be rather happy; despite the fact that I did bonk on a 13 miler a couple of weeks ago, I am feeling much better now than I describe this time last year (and to be fair, I think I was coming down with something the morning I bonked), and am even a couple weeks ahead schedule-wise of where I was, so I won't have to cut the Higdon schedule short this time. I did 15 miles last Saturday, and am looking forward to a 16 miler this Christmas Eve. God bless us, every one.

So, I am doubly glad I started this blog. Not only do I get to share my experience with you, I get to remind myself that taking charge of your body isn't always pretty.

But I can look forward to forgetting this pain too!

Week 16- The Lost Dutchman Marathon

Here I am in the day after my attempt to run the Lost Dutchman Marathon. Long story short? Success! But like the run, the story isn't short at all...

I didn't finish as quickly as I was hoping to, but I think I learned a lot about racing doing my first marathon. It's vastly different getting out and doing a race than it is doing even equivalent distances on your own. Here's some of the things I learned this race:

1) Keep at your own pace- I spent a good chunk of the run alongside a Bureau of Land Management lawyer from Alaska. Forty degrees was warm to him, so he ran shirtless. I dubbed him “Steve the Alaskan Human Beacon” because this cat was whiter than Liquid Paper. This was his fourth marathon, but the first after a knee surgery he went through last year. He was not a lot faster than me, but meeting his pace made me burn more energy sooner than I anticipated. I knew I should have stayed between 10:00 and 10:30 per mile- but with Steve (later Greasy Stevie when he had to slather on some vaseline because his arms were chaffing his iridescent bare torso) I was running mile seven to about mile fourteen closer to 9:30 or better. Not significant in the short term, but a thirty minute difference across a race. This really came into play at mile 23 when I hit the wall...


2) Everybody runs marathons- Besides Greasy Stevie, I also met a 16 year old boy in Vibram Five Fingers, ready to do his first full marathon after several halves over the last three years. I met a 38 year old mother of two running her second marathon, and she was no petite flower (though super friendly). I met and conversed with a man from Moscow who must have been pushing 80, along with his wife. Yeah, they were going to jog/walk, but they came from Moscow, and they were 80! There were the real runners out there, like you would see in Runner's World magazine, but then there were lots of everyday people who just enjoy running, and wanted the challenge. We all had an instant rapport because we were going to share in this madness, and we weren't athletes, we were just runners. My thought is this; if I can get passed by 50 year old women, while I'm passing 20 year old men, ANYONE can run a marathon. It's just doing it for the love of the run, and doing it for yourself and no one else.


3) Doing a race is significantly different than your training runs- Even when you're not competing with anyone else, there are so many other factors in the race. First of all, on long runs, I like to zone out. The pain fades away, the mind wanders, and I'll find myself suddenly coming back into consciousness several miles later. Not in the marathon. There are too many other runners around you. Too many spectators. Water points every couple of miles. There's no zone. I was completely present for every moment of my race, from the delightful six mile downhill start, through the middle section with Greasy Stevie, to when at mile 23 I hit the wall. Kept going, but it was a hell of a challenge, and I would love to have just taken a little mental vacation for a few!


4) The Bonk wears clown shoes- Having hit the wall at mile 23, I kept plugging along, slowly, wishing for the energy I expended back between miles seven and fourteen. It was then, while I was slowing in my hunt for 26.2 the Bonk came out to play. I could hear it behind me, and I swear it was chasing me in big floppy shoes, slapping the ground behind me and getting closer. I learned from Orpheus and Calliope though- don't look back. Keep moving on. He came close, close enough to whisper in my ear that I'd already gone further than ever before, why not just walk the rest? And indeed, that may have been what truly brought me to the wall in the first place...


5) Pee early- I had the slight urge starting about mile six, but it wasn't a big deal, because at that point I'm using fluid at a faster rate than I'm putting it in, so the pressure is not becoming more urgent. For some reason though, about mile 21 I decided (likely precipitated by actually seeing an open porta-jon!) I needed to relive my bladder. Now, I walk any water point I go through. It helps with the water drinking, and give your muscles a slight reprieve for a minute or so. To urinate however, I had to stop. When I did, I started getting post run ache. When I did start again, it was tough to convince the body to keep going. Those next two miles led me right to the wall.


6) I want to do it again- Not unlike childbirth (or so I am told) as much pain as you know you are in as it is going on, for some reason within a relatively short time afterwards, you start planning your next one. Perhaps it's just to apply these lessons I have learned to see if I can do better. Suddenly I am competing- I have my own score to beat.

So, in the end I didn't get the time I was hoping for (I wanted around 4:30, but instead chip timed at 4:41:43) but finished 319 out of 600 entrants, in a race where only 471 finished. However, I ran a marathon, and the day after I am not crippled and lame, but rather looking forward to doing it again in the future.

I also want to point out the Lovely Jennifer, in order to kill time while waiting for me to drag myself across the finish line, entered the 8K trail run, and scored a 1:11 without training up. Then she came home and bought new running shoes... maybe soon I will be running with more than just Eightball?

This site may not get weekly updates, though I assure you I am going to keep running. I will keep you posted on my Vibram experiences as I start training with those, and looking around for other races to do. I want to at least knock out a half marathon this year, if not another full. Always have the Bisbee 1000 too. Look for me out there, because from now on, I'm the Running Dan.

Care to join me?

(Here's some pictures from the races...)



This one and the next one were of the trail Jennifer did- it was lovely up there, but warm as the day got on. Over 70 degrees by the time I rolled in.




This is me, visible on the horizon. Note shirtless Greasy Stevie on the left, cheering me on. He came in about 4:30.



Sporting Starfleet Blue, I hit the finish line- a victory for out of shape Trekkies everywhere...

PS- in a strange twist of fate, I ran my marathon on February 14th: Simon Pegg's Birthday. You may remember him as the star of "Run Fatboy Run" discussed previously in this blog. I could hear him in my head occasionally from Star Trek too... "I'm givin' her all she's got, Captain!"

Primal urges in Week 10.

The prey is fast, but only in short bursts. The primitive man runs along behind the gazelle, following relentlessly, knowing he only has to hold out. The gazelle is away from its herd; it can't circle back, and makes the mistake of continuing to sprint away from the man, then stop to see if he follows.

He does.

He is not alone though. There is also the wolf- the one who had crept quietly into the light of the fire one night, hungry and drawn by the smell of cooking meat. It stayed with the man and his family, and would now help the man when he hunted- driving the prey forward as the man kept his pace. The wolf did not understand how the man did it, but if he just ran alongside they would eat. The wolf began to creep ahead, increasing its pace.

The growl from the man held it back. The wolf stayed with him. Again the gazelle stopped, looking to see if the pursuing pair were gone.

Inexorably, step after step, they continued.

They just had to run far enough. The gazelle would eventually tire. Yes- the gazelle was faster than both of them at a dead run, but over a distance? Over a distance the man and wolf would run the gazelle to death.

Just a few more miles...

Yeah. I admit it. That was the fantasy running through my head this week when I would run with my dog Eightball. He's not on the huge runs with me yet, but we're doing about three miles together now, and he seems to really love it. He's not always as disciplined a running partner as I would like...! He is learning though.

Now, the scenario above may not be fantasy at all. Professor Daniel Lieberman proposes that running is what keyed human evolution, and it was the primary advantage for we land primates to catch protein when we hadn't yet created the spear. OK- the wolf part may be fantasy, but it's my head, right? I just find it a fascinating idea that the human machine really was built for running, and that there may be a very specific reason our marathons are around 26 miles (the average distance at which a gazelle or similar bovidae would become too weak to escape and fall).

So how did we cavemen do this week? Good actually! You may recall I was worried about an injury last week in my shin. I really toyed with taking the week off, but dagnabbit, I really wanted to run! So I did add one extra day, so instead of my mid week runs being T/W/T, I started Wednesday. Did a nice easy one on Wednesday to test the waters, and then seven miles New Years Eve. On New Years Day, I ran with the dog AND the Boy (during which he learned several months of computer games and a desk job are not good for your run), but then held out for Sunday for the next big one. Started out about eight in the morning Sunday (Eightball stayed with the lovely Jennifer) and did 15 miles.

Yes, it hurt. Not injury hurt though- didn't feel that at all (though pressing the gas pedal tries to tweak it- looks like I will be picking a speed and holding it!). Instead, it was the heartily earned aches that go with a good run. Did 15 miles, and it was a good run. Next day, still feel that I worked them, but I'm not hobbled at all.

Makes Kor want to look for those Gazelles...

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...

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.

Who's the what?

Week two is complete! A good walk on Sunday, then three steady miles on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday each. Then, this morning, seven miles in delightful 64 degree Arizona weather! Sounds great, huh?

Yeah, that's because you don't have my calves. This was the week (if you follow me on Facebook you heard this complaint) my body caught on to what I was trying to make it do. My three miles were good, and I kept the "think light, think easy, if you are working too hard you are doing it wrong" pace I planned to (between 9 minute or 9:30 miles). However, the calves were a bit whiney about it. Then this morning (Saturday) came the bog seven.

I haven't run seven miles since I was in Monterey CA the first time 16 years ago. I was doing a regular six before my calf tear in Washington, but seven is psychologically a bit different. Nevertheless, committed to this insane path I have chosen, I set out this morning about 7:30 to do what we call 'The Mall Loop' in Sierra Vista (about six) and and extra mile for fun. It is a nice run- good trails and paths, though all paved, it is smooth and away from traffic. There are good variations in uphill and downhill, and should something snap, break, grind, or quit, it is not so far for the lovely Jennifer to come drag my crying corpse back to home.

Had an odd experience with it today. I got to two miles- not much considering, and the calves were tight. Not screaming, but argumentative at least. Then they shut up and let me run. Then, around three miles my hip started to ache. I pushed on through, and it shut up too. Then, at mile four, my left foot began to tell me my arch hurt, while my right calf began to ache around the area of the tear. I steeled myself, adjusted my stride and kept on. Then came Mile Five, I worked through it and as I finished my fifth mile, it all fell away.

Suddenly, with two miles left, I felt like I just started running. My body felt fresh and ready, and even though I was running uphill, I started making better time than I had when I started. I finished strong and happy, and enjoyed a nice breakfast with chia seeds and peanut butter with some yogurt (replenished protein at lunch with some salami (gosh that sounds dirtier than it should) ). It was like my body said "fine, you aren't giving up, we'll stop throwing pain at you." I have no doubt the various parts which make up my physical presence are going to ambush me again at some point, but this week, today at least I showed them who was boss.

Though I really hope running doesn't turn me into Tony Danza.