My wife is awesome.

If you don't know, this is my wife Jennifer. Jennifer is the love of my life, and indeed is really responsible for getting me into my running in the first place when she got me to do the first Bisbee 1000 with her, and then bought me "Born to Run." She chose a goal a while ago" she was going to march in the Bataan Memorial Death March.

Each year, the original Bataan is commemorated at White Sands Missile Base, New Mexico by a marathon length (26.2 mile) march through horrid terrain. There's a couple of categories; whether you want to just go for it, or if you want to do it in the heavy category you put 35 pounds on.

That looks like this.

You then go walk through the desert: sand, hills, wildlife, temperatures from 40 in the morning to 80 by the afternoon, and this year, 40 mile an hour winds. Jennifer trained, Jennifer set out, and Jennifer succeeded. She finished in 9 1/2 hours, which actually brought her in before a large number of military males in the Light category. In short, my darling wife is frakking incredible. I am so proud of her.



She says she has no intention of doing this again, but likes the idea of these distances. Next up? We're going to split the difference, and together we are doing Warrior Dash. She's so cool!

So Dan, how's the running going?

Oh, I hear it in your voice- “I bet Dan's all done with running now that he did that marathon. The dream is over, the goal is reached, he's kicked back on the couch eating Cheetos...”

No.

Actually, the running is going great. I did take about a week and a half to slow down and recover, but then, and believe me I am surprised as well, I was right back out there. Still doing about twenty miles a week actually, though I am a lot more laid back about it. Which is great.

I've run in Vibrams: Here's the first report- did you know sidewalk is harder than pavement? Did about a mile in the Vibrams with Eightball, and was sore for days! Felt like I had worked my calves hard at the gym, and the feet felt a lot of impact. However, later on (and more on that story soon) I ran on an asphalt path in them, and nowhere near the impact pain. Now I know why runners will run on the shoulder instead of the sidewalk. I suppose it's simple density. So you know; if I referred to Vibrams as a transitional shoe before, I WAS WRONG! They are barefoot running with slightly less stickers. Keep that in mind. If you are working towards proper mid-foot strike or even barefoot running, get used to your Nike Frees first, and do some field barefoot running first. Then, look for asphalt!

I've run with the dog: Doing a lot more running with Eightball, which is a lot of fun. It helps him calm down during the day as well, which is good for Jen, but it's neat to watch him trot along as well. He's even learned he can only poop on dirt and not on the path.

I've run with Jennifer: I am VERY excited to report that Jennifer, who was an avid walker and step aerobic adherent, has decided to try out a little running herself. New Nike Frees and away she goes. This last week, we went out together and it's perfect- I run in my Vibrams. So, as she's learning to run, I am too because when I am barefoot, we're at about the same level. We do a good run-walk. I hope she enjoyed it as much as I did, and I am looking forward to more in the future.

So, true believers, there you have it. I am not off the path yet, and indeed still really enjoying it. Looking at a 10K at the end of this month, trying to find a half marathon later this year, and probably gonna try the Lost Dutchman again next year. If you've been thinking about running more, do it. Remember:

-The first step is the hardest.
-Run at your own pace and distance.
-If you're not enjoying it, you're doing it wrong.
-Run for no one but yourself.

Hopefully you will hear from me again soon, and we'll see what other shenanigans running has delivered unto me!

Week 14- Take it Slowly

Well, following last week's rather abysmal showing on the weekend, I was back on track this week. Tuesday was a good solid five miler and went by just fine. Then came Wednesday, and my eight seemed to float by without even tight legs. Thursday, I was going to do four with Eightball, but he and I were in the mood, so we did five. THen came the weekend. "No problem," I said to myself, "It's only 12."

Then I had to stop and think about what my self had just heard myself say.

Only twelve.

Only twelve.

Only twelve!

Simple fact was, one mile short of the half-marathon didn't register as a really long run anymore. And sure enough, when I got out there to do it, I knocked out the first six a full minute per mile faster than my average. Then I scooped up Eightball, and we did the next six together. So sure- four minute break in the middle while I was leashing the dog, but nothing significant to break up the mileage. Meanwhile, in this whole run, I didn't stop for calories or gel- I didn't even get thirsty. Had to give Eightball half my water bottle, but I was good.

Maybe I'm not doing it right, but I am feeling really comfortable with distance now, and I am now two weeks from the race. I know I'm supposed to taper off now and let the body rest up for the big run... but gosh, I really do want to run more. My body's really gotten used to it.

Dear God- I've actually become a runner.

Not sure how I'm going to get through the next two weeks building up to the race.

Week 13- Listen to your Body

I should have known something freaky would happen in week 13. First of all, winter finally arrived in Arizona. It spent the first few days acting like an Angry Washington though- cold rain, high winds, cold temps. I was diligent though, and went out to do my runs. Wrapped up to keep dry, I found the rain really didn't bother me, but I also found the odd phenomenon of wind direction.

I would be running into the wind- which is awful by the way, and I have realized my least favorite thing about running- and my path would allow me to turn around, be it a loop, or rounding a corner etc. Expecting to now have my dreaded windy foe at my back... it would still be in my face. I do not understand how wind can blow in opposite directions simultaneously. Grrr, arrgh.

That however was not my real problem this week. My real problem this week came Tuesday morning before I even braved the elements when The Daughter said, "Dad, I have a sore throat." I was doomed.

By Saturday, I had not only the sore throat, but the stuffy head and the frequent trips to the Euphemism Room (I don't think I need to explore that facet any further). So, my soul is telling me to get out and run anyway- I had 16-18 scheduled for the weekend. The body is using the bathroom and large amounts of phlegm to tell me otherwise. So, the brain has to step in and moderate.

The Body likes to complain you see. While the Soul is yelling "run, run," the Body likes to make excuses up not to. "I'm tired," "my ankle is touchy," and "You hate running, remember?" among them. The Brain has to come in and cast judgment, and nine times out of ten finds in favor of the soul ("You don't really hurt that badly, keep running"). This time though, the Brain found the body had a point.

So that was this week's lesson. In order to get over this crud so I can keep running, I had to lay off to rest up. I will see how Tuesday feels, and if not, I will wait until Wednesday. Luckily I am in my taper time, where you start backing off to let all your muscles heal up before the big race. I don't want to lose momentum though, and I don't want to be still hacking up lung butter the day of the race. Ah, the delicate balance that is winter running.

You win this time body- but you still have that 26.2 waiting out there. Quit complaining...

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...

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...

Like a Buddy Cop Movie...

It's very possible I learned a life lesson running this week. It's kind of a foo-foo lesson, and one you'd likely hear on Sesame Street, but the Children's Television Workshop may be right.

As I have engaged in my little bout of self discovery through distance running, the point has always been I am racing no one but myself. How do I see myself when running?





But for the first time since starting this madness, I set out to do my Saturday long run with someone. This person shall remain nameless so as to protect his reputation from being associated with the likes of me, however this is someone who does this stuff a lot. Triathlon competitor, done a couple Marathons, in ridiculously good shape. He deigned to go out running with my slow ass.

I did warn him- I've been running between a 9:30 and 10:00 mile average for anything over five miles. One of my mantras has been to relax and run. I told him he would likely be bored with how slow we were moving. He made a very good point back to me- we were preparing to run 10 miles. How many people did we know who would run ten miles at ANY pace? We have a pretty physically oriented firm for which we work, and yet, the usual run is about speed, and rarely about endurance. Endurance is the great equalizer in running. An interesting side note is the fact that women in sprints have never been able to get close to men in comparable shape. However, the longer the race gets, the more competitive the genders get. Women are as likely to win an Ultra-Marathon (50 or more miles) as any male competitor. Take for instance Jenn Shelton:



Runs Ultras all the time and apparently drinks tequila like it's water. Amen.

So anyway, I set out with a running partner, who as someone far more professional at this than I, had all the right gear, including this spiffy little gizmo which told us exactly how far we had run at any given moment, our pace, and his heart rate. (Let me also point out that it beeped when his heart rate went under 120- and it beeped often at my pace.) As we cruised along though, we chatted, and he kept pointing out we were making good time. In the end, we did a little more than we planned- 11.2 miles, and we did it in 1:37. This is odd, because we actually hit the ten mile mark at the time I had previously done the nine miler.

Now, my legs did complain a bit after, but with someone to work off of, to pace with, and even just to converse with while running, it went by faster, and if you were watching, I went by faster.

So perhaps there's a CTW moral to the story- two heads (or sets of legs) are better than one. Sure, I am only competing with myself, but that doesn't mean I can't bring someone along. Maybe now I should see my running self like this:




When preparing this, I went looking for the Lone Ranger to put up top in the "loner" part, but I always found him with Tonto. Obviously, he's already learned this lesson.

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!

The Running Dan

This last week I turned 37, and left behind the halcyon days of “mid-thirties” for the far less entertaining days of “late-thirties.” Yeah, I know, me and some 15 billion people before me (though let's face it- for a lot of human history age 40 was considered “aged”), and it's going on all the time. I however cannot speak for them, I can only speak for me. I am not, I stress again NOT, having a mid-life crisis, but it has come to my attention that the days I can tell my body what it will do are coming to an end, and eventually, my body will tell me what to do. I am really only just recovering from an injury back in May where I tore a calf muscle. That injury put a halt to my fairly standard running schedule, and I am not the type of person who stays in shape if I am not trying. My firm has made me run for years, and I have always fought it. Even when my run got good, I didn't like it, I didn't want to, and therefore slipped back into lazyness. Excuse or no with this injury, I did all my physical therapy and have been running regularly again for about two months. In that two months I brought myself back from not being able to really run two miles (my last bit of therapy was to do three miles alternating between two minutes of running and two minutes of walking) to a 16:30 two mile on a PT test this week. Now, the week before that the weather was better and I did it in 15:50. Sure, I am not breaking any land speed records, but it's been nice to run again.

The lovely Jennifer, who has recently been on her own new fitness plan and taken off quite a few pounds, enrolled us to participate in the Bisbee 1000 Stair climb. See, for those who aren't familiar with Bisbee, it's my favorite Arizona town. It was a mining town built into a bunch of hills over a century ago, and is now a quirky little hippie town full of people who like to take life a little slower than most. In short, it's like a Washington town right here in the desert. Anyway, the whole town is built on various levels and riddle with an Escher-like system of stairs. Each year, the town puts on a 5K run/walk which involves climbing 1000 of these stairs. Jennifer and I had never done anything like this together before, and not only had a great time, but got a good workout. I started thinking about running it next year.

Then I started looking at myself. I'd never liked this kind of thing before, but I was feeling good doing it. And on my birthday, it hit me.

I was going to run a marathon.

Now, I don't know a damn thing about this stuff. I started doing internet research, and quizzing friends- turns out I have a remarkable number of friends who have done these. Some of them are even geeks like me (yes, you Jim. Well, you too Siddhartha). To help me along, the Lovely Jennifer bought me a book for my birthday called “Born to Run” about the psychology of endurance runners. The idea of embracing the fatigue and operating outside yourself. Making yourself like a child and just running with no thought of time or pain. Stepping out of yourself, while being acutely aware of yourself...

Hey, wait a minute. This was starting to sound a bit spiritual. And it is. If God's in all of us, and we have to dig deep inside to make 26.2 miles (though many people in the book are doing 100 miles races!) then what, or who, will be looking back when you dig?

So, I have a basic training plan, starting out this week. I cheated a little and went out to do four miles this morning like a preview... and you know what? I quit fighting it, and with a whole new attitude, I liked running this morning. I did an extra mile just for fun, and felt like I could have kept going. Endorphin euphoria or God-seeing trance, it felt good. I can't wait to do it again. I'm not even sore.

So begins a new Blog. As I go through this plan, I will share what I am thinking and feeling. I am sure it will not all be as nice as it was today, so I don't always promise to be so positive. I will keep you all appraised of my progress and plans. There's a marathon in February in Apache Junction, but that one seems too soon. I may do the half marathon then. The run I plan to do is in Prescott in May. Seven months away. No pressure, just what I want to do.

Welcome to the Running Dan.