Now that I'm writing again I've looked over past blog entries. It seems I enjoy writing about hope and achievement and doing better than expected. About the opposites, not so much.
Last year I wrote on the eve of Grete's Great Gallup that I hoped to do better than my dismal performance 12 months before. I didn't. It was worse. But you'll not find anything about my 10 minute mile 11 here. Similarly, I'd written about high expectations before the Disney 2010 Marathon. Nothing, however, about running out of steam barely half way through and wondering how I was going to negotiate 12 miles with no energy. The answerby the way: Extremely slowly.
This Summer, I loved writing on facebook about both my softball teams' long winning streaks. "I've forgotten what it's like to lose," I commented in 1 entry. Not too much detail, however, about our awful playoff ousters..."Now I've forgotten what it's like to win a post season series" I did not write anywhere.
Dwelling on what's I haven't written brought up Deacon Blues. Steely Dan sang in that 1970s tune:
They've got a name for the winners in the world
well I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues*
I, however, do not want a name, Deacon Blues or otherwise, when I lose. I, apparently, want anonymity.
Grete's Half Marathon is coming up in 2 weeks and the Fifth Avenue Mile is this Saturday. I'm signed up for both. If you see nothing about the results here, assume I did not do well.
* The Demon Deacons were the nickname the awful football team of that decade at Wake Forest. I don't want to be called that, either.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
RESPECTABLE RUNNING
For the last few years, with rare exceptions, my racing has been poor. That changed a few months ago...to horrendous. At the Brooklyn Half Marathon in May I ran my worst half marathon by far, walking at every water station in the second half. A month later it was my worst 5 miler by far, done at a pace that would barely qualify as a decent training run.
I was losing any joy in racing; even my incentive to run was fading. Each time out was exhausting and disturbingly slow. If this continued I would stop running. And I didn't know what was the matter.
And then I had a thought. This all began fairly soon after I'd begun taking a medication for a minor discomfort. It seemed to elevate my heart rate and that became more pronounced as the weather warmed. I stopped taking it. I found a different (and satisfactory) way of remedying the original issue. I went out running and found it becoming easier. So I was able to train better.
And then I ran a 4 mile race in July. It was my worst ever for the distance. But NOT by far. Only by a little. It wasn't that my heart was going to fast, just that I'd not trained adequately. It was the first time a Personal Worst felt like a step forward.
After that my training really improved. About 30 miles per week and lots of high quality speed work. A 5 mile race in August that was only AMONG my worst...further cause for optimism. And more hard training.
That brings us to today's 4 mile race. My training times, particularly in track workouts, made me think I could run fairly well. But given the strange running place I've been all summer, it was really difficult to guess how well. Certainy faster than the 8:16 per mile of July. How about the 7:47 of April or the 7:38 of exactly a year ago? Or the 7:40ish pace I'd run in a series of 4 milers at the start of 2010?
I decided to beat them all. I mean, what fun is it to try for anything less when there's doubt? So my goal was a 7:30 pace to finish the race in 30 minutes or less. The danger in trying to run a somewhat agressive pace, of course, is overestimating your stamina, going out faster than your body can support for the entire distance and ending unhappy, in pain, at a snail's pace, as everyone parades by you.
I figured mile 1, containing the tough Cat Hill, would foretell what the rest of the race held. When I did it in 7:29, exactly on pace and not feeling bad, it looked good. I speeded up to 7:17 on gently downhill mile 2 and slowed a lot to 7:47 on the difficult West Side Hills of mile 3.
Tired and very uncomfortable I tried to calculate where I stood. Did I have a shot at 7:30 pace? Two miles under it, 1 over. The numbers refused to compute. Just had no idea what was needed. So I figured I'd better run it as fast as I could.
Fortunately the last mile is largely downhill. So I ran confidently until the final 300 meters which is an unpleasant uphill. By then I had no energy left to push. People for the first time began passing me as they kicked home. I had nothing to answer with. And that's how I cruised over the finish line.
In 29:54, a pace of 7:28.5! Top ten age group (9 out of 60) honors! A performance score (don't ask how it's calculated) above 70% for the first time in over 3 years! And my best time at this distance since July, 2008!
At my best I've raced 4 miles in under 28 minutes. Long way to go to get to that. But at least this was some respectable running.
I was losing any joy in racing; even my incentive to run was fading. Each time out was exhausting and disturbingly slow. If this continued I would stop running. And I didn't know what was the matter.
And then I had a thought. This all began fairly soon after I'd begun taking a medication for a minor discomfort. It seemed to elevate my heart rate and that became more pronounced as the weather warmed. I stopped taking it. I found a different (and satisfactory) way of remedying the original issue. I went out running and found it becoming easier. So I was able to train better.
And then I ran a 4 mile race in July. It was my worst ever for the distance. But NOT by far. Only by a little. It wasn't that my heart was going to fast, just that I'd not trained adequately. It was the first time a Personal Worst felt like a step forward.
After that my training really improved. About 30 miles per week and lots of high quality speed work. A 5 mile race in August that was only AMONG my worst...further cause for optimism. And more hard training.
That brings us to today's 4 mile race. My training times, particularly in track workouts, made me think I could run fairly well. But given the strange running place I've been all summer, it was really difficult to guess how well. Certainy faster than the 8:16 per mile of July. How about the 7:47 of April or the 7:38 of exactly a year ago? Or the 7:40ish pace I'd run in a series of 4 milers at the start of 2010?
I decided to beat them all. I mean, what fun is it to try for anything less when there's doubt? So my goal was a 7:30 pace to finish the race in 30 minutes or less. The danger in trying to run a somewhat agressive pace, of course, is overestimating your stamina, going out faster than your body can support for the entire distance and ending unhappy, in pain, at a snail's pace, as everyone parades by you.
I figured mile 1, containing the tough Cat Hill, would foretell what the rest of the race held. When I did it in 7:29, exactly on pace and not feeling bad, it looked good. I speeded up to 7:17 on gently downhill mile 2 and slowed a lot to 7:47 on the difficult West Side Hills of mile 3.
Tired and very uncomfortable I tried to calculate where I stood. Did I have a shot at 7:30 pace? Two miles under it, 1 over. The numbers refused to compute. Just had no idea what was needed. So I figured I'd better run it as fast as I could.
Fortunately the last mile is largely downhill. So I ran confidently until the final 300 meters which is an unpleasant uphill. By then I had no energy left to push. People for the first time began passing me as they kicked home. I had nothing to answer with. And that's how I cruised over the finish line.
In 29:54, a pace of 7:28.5! Top ten age group (9 out of 60) honors! A performance score (don't ask how it's calculated) above 70% for the first time in over 3 years! And my best time at this distance since July, 2008!
At my best I've raced 4 miles in under 28 minutes. Long way to go to get to that. But at least this was some respectable running.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
THREE RACES
Road races coming up on each of the next 3 Saturdays. I'm excited. Because I think I can post some pretty good times.
Not my best times, of course. It's been 5 years since I've had a personal best. Injuries, illness, aging have all gotten in the way. And, of late, my times have been truly horrendous. Slow, slow, slow and beaten by all sorts of people including those I'd regularly bested in the past.
Early this summer was the absolute worst. I was so exhausted during a couple races that I walked. All I wanted was for it to end. My times weren't even good for training runs. It was awful...totally non competitive.
And then I figured out how to make it better. And I have. Consistent 30 or so miles a week for the past 10 weeks. Plenty of hard runs. No injuries...or at least none that stopped my running...and getting faster! Track workouts at a pace I've not done in 3 or 4 years.
Now it's time to put it to the test. Four mile race in Central Park this weekend. Fifth Avenue Mile the next. Grete's Half Marathon the week after that.
Three races. Very different distances. Sure would be nice to run them all in times I'm happy with.
Not my best times, of course. It's been 5 years since I've had a personal best. Injuries, illness, aging have all gotten in the way. And, of late, my times have been truly horrendous. Slow, slow, slow and beaten by all sorts of people including those I'd regularly bested in the past.
Early this summer was the absolute worst. I was so exhausted during a couple races that I walked. All I wanted was for it to end. My times weren't even good for training runs. It was awful...totally non competitive.
And then I figured out how to make it better. And I have. Consistent 30 or so miles a week for the past 10 weeks. Plenty of hard runs. No injuries...or at least none that stopped my running...and getting faster! Track workouts at a pace I've not done in 3 or 4 years.
Now it's time to put it to the test. Four mile race in Central Park this weekend. Fifth Avenue Mile the next. Grete's Half Marathon the week after that.
Three races. Very different distances. Sure would be nice to run them all in times I'm happy with.
Friday, October 1, 2010
CHALLENGING GRETE
Grete could not have been impressed the last time I ran her race. I grew slower on practically each mile, finally finishing the half marathon in a bit over 1 hour and 45 minutes, among my worst ever.
Grete's Great Gallup, the half marathon named in honor of Grete Weiss, the Norwegian Speed Queen, comes about 5 weeks before the New York Marathon and is used to asess marathon readiness and to provide an estimate of proper pace for the big race. I came to Grete in 2007 feeling optimistic. Good race times and solid long runs suggested that I might do very well; I ran a speedy first mile in exactly that spirit. And then the unusual warmth and humidity of that early Autumn day...and who knows what else...grabbed hold of me. The race became a long playing disapointment, leaving me on a downward spiral that culminated in a marathon nightmare of pain and injury and walking off the course when it all became too much on First Avenue around mile 17.
Injuries kept me from the starting line for either the 2008 or 2009 Marathons. This year my half marathon times continue to balloon. Grete is tomorrow. How optimistic can I be?
Well, training has been good of late, I've gotten stronger with a bunch of solid long runs, last weekend's mile race was terrific, I just ate a very nice pasta from a newly opened local restaurant and tomorrow's weather report doesn't call for a lot of heat or humidity.
So, who knows? Maybe this time, Grete will be impressed.
Grete's Great Gallup, the half marathon named in honor of Grete Weiss, the Norwegian Speed Queen, comes about 5 weeks before the New York Marathon and is used to asess marathon readiness and to provide an estimate of proper pace for the big race. I came to Grete in 2007 feeling optimistic. Good race times and solid long runs suggested that I might do very well; I ran a speedy first mile in exactly that spirit. And then the unusual warmth and humidity of that early Autumn day...and who knows what else...grabbed hold of me. The race became a long playing disapointment, leaving me on a downward spiral that culminated in a marathon nightmare of pain and injury and walking off the course when it all became too much on First Avenue around mile 17.
Injuries kept me from the starting line for either the 2008 or 2009 Marathons. This year my half marathon times continue to balloon. Grete is tomorrow. How optimistic can I be?
Well, training has been good of late, I've gotten stronger with a bunch of solid long runs, last weekend's mile race was terrific, I just ate a very nice pasta from a newly opened local restaurant and tomorrow's weather report doesn't call for a lot of heat or humidity.
So, who knows? Maybe this time, Grete will be impressed.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
RACING FIFTH AVENUE
This is my first blog entry in almost 2 years. All sorts of bad things have kept me from writing because they've kept me from being athletic. Oh, I've tried being athletic. And I have done things. They just haven't felt like the kinds of things that I do. At least, not the quality. Not the speed. Not the effectiveness. Not the happy outcomes.
There were times that I thought I was on my way. And then something bad would happen. Maybe to my calf. Maybe to my achilles. Maybe to my hamstring. Maybe to body parts I'd never previously heard of. But something. And so, it would turn out, I wasn't on my way.
And then the Fifth Avenue Mile approached. I've only run it twice before, it's very exciting and challenging and I knew this year would not be my third. Too much chance of injury. Too painful. Too much a sure thing that I wouldn't do it very well. Because for a long time I haven't been able to run fast.
A few weeks ago strange things began to happen. I'd run an easy workout, modest pace, but my heart rate wouldn't jump up like it had been doing. It stayed nice and low like it used to, back in those days when I was running well. Then I ran a nice, easy workout and miles were suddenly going by more quickly. Had the course shortened? I wasn't running any harder.
And then one day during a speed workout something happened which hadn't happened in a long time...I actually DID run fast! And then, 2 days later, it occurred again, and, the following week, twice more!
So, I decided to race the Fifth Avenue Mile.
I did it in 2003 when I ran 5:56 and 2007 when I hit 5:49. Both times were wonderful...anything under 6 minutes is. But I knew I had no shot at such a performance this time. My workouts suggested that it would be good if I could break 6:30. The fragility of my body the last few years suggested that, if I tried, I'd tear something new. But I wanted to try.
When I tell people I'm going to race the mile, many say: "Oh, that's no problem. It's just a mile. You've run much longer than that." What they don't understand is the intensity of running "just" a mile. Of course I can run a mile. But now I'm going to be RACING it, and that means doing it as fast as I possibly can.
And there's no way to go as fast as you can without it really, really hurting. How much it hurts and when that starts depends on your speed at the beginning.
The Fifth Avenue course is slightly downhill for the first quarter mile. This sucks you in to running too fast to begin with. The next quarter is mostly uphill. Not a big uphill, but big enough to make it really hurt if you deprived yourself of oxygen by running the "fast" first quarter too fast. And if you do, when you get to the top of the hill at 70th Street, it's all pain to 60th Street and the finish line.
So I decided to pace myself. The head of my racing team is Bob Glover. He's a world renowned running writer and ferocious competitor who's a few years older than me. Injuries and age have slowed him a bit and enabled me, when healthy,to beat him occasionally. So he's intent now on beating me (and many others) to even the score. Including in the Fifth Avenue Mile.
I know some of Bob's recent training times. They're better than mine. He should beat me. So I decided to use that to pace myself. I'd stick with him on the first easy quarter and then up the hill to the halfway point. This would be faster than I can maintain so I'll forget about Bob then. The rest of the course is downhill so I'll just hold on for dear life and let gravity do its work.
At the starting line, I began worrying about reinjuring myself. I'd not run anything in 2 years quicker than 6:55. It was crazy getting ready to try to go way faster than that. My heart would be pumping wildly if I ran that intensely. Could it burst thru my chest and make me die? And, if it didn't, wouldn't my calf or achilles be likely to blow instead? Yet I also wondered if maybe I could not only break 6:30 but perhaps 6:15? And not blow up my heart or pull a muscle? Bob was 1 row ahead of me and just to my right.
We were off. It was a little crowded at the start and I moved laterally to find open ground. Bob ran straight ahead and separated from me. Was he running too fast for me to catch without putting myself in oxygen deprivation way early? I pushed my pace and caught up to him. About 200 meters in I had an interesting thought: This is too slow! I picked up the pace and hit the quarter mile mark in 1:27. I hadn't run this fast in a long time.
The hill began and I noticed 2 things. I was well ahead of Bob and all moisture had left my throat. I was TOTALLY dry. Nothing to swallow. Weird and very uncomfortable. I pushed up the hill, definitely slowing but no one was passing me. I did the second quarter in 1:36.5...3:03 for the half. I knew I was okay. Even if I slowed badly I'd still easily break 6:30.
If I could keep going, of course. It really hurt. It was very uncomfortable. But nothing seemed likely to burst.So I did keep going. Not fast, not slow. 1:32 for quarter 3 and 1:36 to the finish. There was a large group in front of me that I couldn't catch but no one passed me...I think...during the last half of the race.
I crossed in 6:12. Far better than my 6:30 goal and under the 6:15 that I didn't really think was possible. Twelfth in my age group of 53. My heart remains inside my chest and, apparently, working fine. So are the muscles in my legs. And I'll be ready to train hard again on Tuesday. With enthusiasm. Cause this race feels very much like the kind of thing that I do!
And now I've got 6:00 to beat...again!
There were times that I thought I was on my way. And then something bad would happen. Maybe to my calf. Maybe to my achilles. Maybe to my hamstring. Maybe to body parts I'd never previously heard of. But something. And so, it would turn out, I wasn't on my way.
And then the Fifth Avenue Mile approached. I've only run it twice before, it's very exciting and challenging and I knew this year would not be my third. Too much chance of injury. Too painful. Too much a sure thing that I wouldn't do it very well. Because for a long time I haven't been able to run fast.
A few weeks ago strange things began to happen. I'd run an easy workout, modest pace, but my heart rate wouldn't jump up like it had been doing. It stayed nice and low like it used to, back in those days when I was running well. Then I ran a nice, easy workout and miles were suddenly going by more quickly. Had the course shortened? I wasn't running any harder.
And then one day during a speed workout something happened which hadn't happened in a long time...I actually DID run fast! And then, 2 days later, it occurred again, and, the following week, twice more!
So, I decided to race the Fifth Avenue Mile.
I did it in 2003 when I ran 5:56 and 2007 when I hit 5:49. Both times were wonderful...anything under 6 minutes is. But I knew I had no shot at such a performance this time. My workouts suggested that it would be good if I could break 6:30. The fragility of my body the last few years suggested that, if I tried, I'd tear something new. But I wanted to try.
When I tell people I'm going to race the mile, many say: "Oh, that's no problem. It's just a mile. You've run much longer than that." What they don't understand is the intensity of running "just" a mile. Of course I can run a mile. But now I'm going to be RACING it, and that means doing it as fast as I possibly can.
And there's no way to go as fast as you can without it really, really hurting. How much it hurts and when that starts depends on your speed at the beginning.
The Fifth Avenue course is slightly downhill for the first quarter mile. This sucks you in to running too fast to begin with. The next quarter is mostly uphill. Not a big uphill, but big enough to make it really hurt if you deprived yourself of oxygen by running the "fast" first quarter too fast. And if you do, when you get to the top of the hill at 70th Street, it's all pain to 60th Street and the finish line.
So I decided to pace myself. The head of my racing team is Bob Glover. He's a world renowned running writer and ferocious competitor who's a few years older than me. Injuries and age have slowed him a bit and enabled me, when healthy,to beat him occasionally. So he's intent now on beating me (and many others) to even the score. Including in the Fifth Avenue Mile.
I know some of Bob's recent training times. They're better than mine. He should beat me. So I decided to use that to pace myself. I'd stick with him on the first easy quarter and then up the hill to the halfway point. This would be faster than I can maintain so I'll forget about Bob then. The rest of the course is downhill so I'll just hold on for dear life and let gravity do its work.
At the starting line, I began worrying about reinjuring myself. I'd not run anything in 2 years quicker than 6:55. It was crazy getting ready to try to go way faster than that. My heart would be pumping wildly if I ran that intensely. Could it burst thru my chest and make me die? And, if it didn't, wouldn't my calf or achilles be likely to blow instead? Yet I also wondered if maybe I could not only break 6:30 but perhaps 6:15? And not blow up my heart or pull a muscle? Bob was 1 row ahead of me and just to my right.
We were off. It was a little crowded at the start and I moved laterally to find open ground. Bob ran straight ahead and separated from me. Was he running too fast for me to catch without putting myself in oxygen deprivation way early? I pushed my pace and caught up to him. About 200 meters in I had an interesting thought: This is too slow! I picked up the pace and hit the quarter mile mark in 1:27. I hadn't run this fast in a long time.
The hill began and I noticed 2 things. I was well ahead of Bob and all moisture had left my throat. I was TOTALLY dry. Nothing to swallow. Weird and very uncomfortable. I pushed up the hill, definitely slowing but no one was passing me. I did the second quarter in 1:36.5...3:03 for the half. I knew I was okay. Even if I slowed badly I'd still easily break 6:30.
If I could keep going, of course. It really hurt. It was very uncomfortable. But nothing seemed likely to burst.So I did keep going. Not fast, not slow. 1:32 for quarter 3 and 1:36 to the finish. There was a large group in front of me that I couldn't catch but no one passed me...I think...during the last half of the race.
I crossed in 6:12. Far better than my 6:30 goal and under the 6:15 that I didn't really think was possible. Twelfth in my age group of 53. My heart remains inside my chest and, apparently, working fine. So are the muscles in my legs. And I'll be ready to train hard again on Tuesday. With enthusiasm. Cause this race feels very much like the kind of thing that I do!
And now I've got 6:00 to beat...again!
Thursday, December 25, 2008
HEEDLESS
I was apparently, not going to heed the warning signs. It was Saturday evening, December 13, and I was home from the Bat Mitzvah I'd just attended. I knew I shouldn't do the planned 16 miler in Central Park tomorrow. My lower left calf/Achilles area had bothered me, on and off, all week. Caution was called for. Perhaps an elliptical workout, a long one, would be a useful compromise. Good training, low injury risk. Smart!
But there on my computer was an email message from Tamar who I was supposed to run with. I'd half hoped that she'd forgotten. But she hadn't and she wrote that she was looking forward to the run. And I was, too.
It would be challenging with her. She's faster than me and chooses tough workouts. To run with her, I'd be forced to quicken the pace. And she'd struck a chord when she'd said earlier in the week: "When I start a long run, I don't stop." That meant no stopping for water or gu or stretching as I'd been doing on all my long runs in this training cycle. That felt like cheating to me though I had good reasons to do it.
I'd been cautious recently to guard against injury, reinjury and because my aerobic strength was just not back yet. I was tired of it. Running with Tamar meant a more aggressive run. I didn't think I'd do that on my own; with her, I thought, I would.
But only, unfortunately, if I could. And the discomfort of the week made me think that, perhaps, this wasn't the time to try. On the other hand, while I was at the Bat Mitzvah I'd stretched and twisted and pointed and flexed the calf and the ankle in every which way and every which manner I could. And it felt fine. Could it be favorable divine intervention because I was at a Bat Mitzvah? Doubtful because:
a-I'd missed the services and was only attending the party. God couldn't be thrilled about that.
b-I don't believe in God.
c-If I did believe in God, I wouldn't believe in God who cared about my calf.
d-If God did care about my calf, why would he/she intervene now for one lousy long run and not over the summer when I'd missed 8 weeks?
On the other hand, the calf did seem to feel okay no matter what I did to it. Oh, and one other thing. I just knew that if I cancelled now Tamar would probably never schedule another run with me again. So I called her and made plans for Sunday morning. It was time to take a risk.
I arrived early. I decided to test the calf out with a short run on the level, flat bridal path. It did seem odd to warm up for a long run and make it even longer, especially since I wasn't sure I could do the distance in the first place. But I wanted to know how the area would feel. If it broke down there and then I'd have to cancel. Obviously I can't do what I can't do. But at least this way I'd know for sure that I'd given it my best shot and just couldn't do it.
It seemed a manly approach.
It felt fine. Tamar arrived and soon we were off. The pace was good and the calf felt okay. As we approached our first hill (ups and downs tend to set it off) I was apprehensive. And on the second hill. The third. And the fourth. We had nice conversations going on but I must admit that my mind was more aware of any messages that my calf cared to send me. It wasn't sending me any and I grew more confident. And better able to concentrate on our discussions. And on our pace which I had to ask us to slow a few times. And it was fine!
We finished 11 miles at a good pace with no stops and no reinjury and now we had just one 5 mile loop to go. I was, however, wearing down. My sentences were limited to just a few words that I hoped would provoke a long response. That would give me more time to breath. At mile 13, with 3 miles to go, Tamar commented that it looked like I could now beat her in a race. I had no idea what it might look like; what it felt like, however, was that if I tried it I'd die.
The whole run I was self concious that I was slowing Tamar from the pace she'd like to run. She kept telling me no as she hadn't done more than a 12 miler recently. The pace was fine, she said. At 14 miles though I felt like I couldn't maintain it. I told her to go ahead if she wanted and I'd meet her at the finish. I no longer felt guilty as she sped away. Except she wasn't. I kept up with her. We reached our 16 mile goal. My (our) pace had never slowed.
I was SO happy as I poured down an entire gatoraid. My fastest long run of the current training cycle and just my second on the tough hills of Central Park. No stopping, no injuries, no pain, no cheating. A good, aggressive workout.
And a fun one, too. I looked forward to our reward brunch. And I was glad that I hadn't heeded my self warning...at least this time.
But there on my computer was an email message from Tamar who I was supposed to run with. I'd half hoped that she'd forgotten. But she hadn't and she wrote that she was looking forward to the run. And I was, too.
It would be challenging with her. She's faster than me and chooses tough workouts. To run with her, I'd be forced to quicken the pace. And she'd struck a chord when she'd said earlier in the week: "When I start a long run, I don't stop." That meant no stopping for water or gu or stretching as I'd been doing on all my long runs in this training cycle. That felt like cheating to me though I had good reasons to do it.
I'd been cautious recently to guard against injury, reinjury and because my aerobic strength was just not back yet. I was tired of it. Running with Tamar meant a more aggressive run. I didn't think I'd do that on my own; with her, I thought, I would.
But only, unfortunately, if I could. And the discomfort of the week made me think that, perhaps, this wasn't the time to try. On the other hand, while I was at the Bat Mitzvah I'd stretched and twisted and pointed and flexed the calf and the ankle in every which way and every which manner I could. And it felt fine. Could it be favorable divine intervention because I was at a Bat Mitzvah? Doubtful because:
a-I'd missed the services and was only attending the party. God couldn't be thrilled about that.
b-I don't believe in God.
c-If I did believe in God, I wouldn't believe in God who cared about my calf.
d-If God did care about my calf, why would he/she intervene now for one lousy long run and not over the summer when I'd missed 8 weeks?
On the other hand, the calf did seem to feel okay no matter what I did to it. Oh, and one other thing. I just knew that if I cancelled now Tamar would probably never schedule another run with me again. So I called her and made plans for Sunday morning. It was time to take a risk.
I arrived early. I decided to test the calf out with a short run on the level, flat bridal path. It did seem odd to warm up for a long run and make it even longer, especially since I wasn't sure I could do the distance in the first place. But I wanted to know how the area would feel. If it broke down there and then I'd have to cancel. Obviously I can't do what I can't do. But at least this way I'd know for sure that I'd given it my best shot and just couldn't do it.
It seemed a manly approach.
It felt fine. Tamar arrived and soon we were off. The pace was good and the calf felt okay. As we approached our first hill (ups and downs tend to set it off) I was apprehensive. And on the second hill. The third. And the fourth. We had nice conversations going on but I must admit that my mind was more aware of any messages that my calf cared to send me. It wasn't sending me any and I grew more confident. And better able to concentrate on our discussions. And on our pace which I had to ask us to slow a few times. And it was fine!
We finished 11 miles at a good pace with no stops and no reinjury and now we had just one 5 mile loop to go. I was, however, wearing down. My sentences were limited to just a few words that I hoped would provoke a long response. That would give me more time to breath. At mile 13, with 3 miles to go, Tamar commented that it looked like I could now beat her in a race. I had no idea what it might look like; what it felt like, however, was that if I tried it I'd die.
The whole run I was self concious that I was slowing Tamar from the pace she'd like to run. She kept telling me no as she hadn't done more than a 12 miler recently. The pace was fine, she said. At 14 miles though I felt like I couldn't maintain it. I told her to go ahead if she wanted and I'd meet her at the finish. I no longer felt guilty as she sped away. Except she wasn't. I kept up with her. We reached our 16 mile goal. My (our) pace had never slowed.
I was SO happy as I poured down an entire gatoraid. My fastest long run of the current training cycle and just my second on the tough hills of Central Park. No stopping, no injuries, no pain, no cheating. A good, aggressive workout.
And a fun one, too. I looked forward to our reward brunch. And I was glad that I hadn't heeded my self warning...at least this time.
MIXED UP SIGNALS
Obama's elected and our eight year national nightmare about to end. My calf, my achilles don't hurt and I'm running consistantly. Long runs and speed workouts. Things are so good!!
The economy is crumbling and maybe my practise will, too. My running times are slow while my heart beats fast. The Disney Marathon is barely 2 weeks away and I need another month of training. How could things be more discouraging?
The truth is, I can't figure it out. Not the Obama and the economy part, of course, those are clear. It's the running. Interval workouts, tempo workouts, anytime I try to go fast. I push, my legs speed up, my heart rate rises. My pace quickens and I go the distance. But I don't do it fast.
I know that the loss of so much training time this summer has an adverse affect and that it lingers. Gaining a few pounds doesn't help while being cautous with my training to guard against reinjury is smart but doesn't help me recover quickly.
But I keep wondering if, perhaps, my speed will never return. Maybe age is doing me in. And I wonder if Disney will be awful. So I keep looking for November and December workouts leading up to past Disney's to compare to similar runs now. Which was faster? If I'm slower now, are there extenuating circumstances like bad weather or wearing heavier clothes? In which was my heart rate faster? I keep hoping for encouraging comparisons. But, for the most part, they're not. They just remind me of what I already know. I'm not going as fast as I want. I'm not in the shape that I want.
There are many bright spots. When I compare myself now to how I was one or two or three months ago, that is. Or when I consider my pain free lower extremity to the continuous discomfort over the summer. But when I go further back than that...not so great.
The signals are mixed. But one thing is clear enough. Disney is 17 days away.
The economy is crumbling and maybe my practise will, too. My running times are slow while my heart beats fast. The Disney Marathon is barely 2 weeks away and I need another month of training. How could things be more discouraging?
The truth is, I can't figure it out. Not the Obama and the economy part, of course, those are clear. It's the running. Interval workouts, tempo workouts, anytime I try to go fast. I push, my legs speed up, my heart rate rises. My pace quickens and I go the distance. But I don't do it fast.
I know that the loss of so much training time this summer has an adverse affect and that it lingers. Gaining a few pounds doesn't help while being cautous with my training to guard against reinjury is smart but doesn't help me recover quickly.
But I keep wondering if, perhaps, my speed will never return. Maybe age is doing me in. And I wonder if Disney will be awful. So I keep looking for November and December workouts leading up to past Disney's to compare to similar runs now. Which was faster? If I'm slower now, are there extenuating circumstances like bad weather or wearing heavier clothes? In which was my heart rate faster? I keep hoping for encouraging comparisons. But, for the most part, they're not. They just remind me of what I already know. I'm not going as fast as I want. I'm not in the shape that I want.
There are many bright spots. When I compare myself now to how I was one or two or three months ago, that is. Or when I consider my pain free lower extremity to the continuous discomfort over the summer. But when I go further back than that...not so great.
The signals are mixed. But one thing is clear enough. Disney is 17 days away.
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