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Waiting for Adam

My training lately has been geared toward rebuilding what I have lost over the winter. Yesterday, I ran four miles, and today I ran three. Both workouts were on flat ground, yet both workouts were taxing. By the end, I was walking one minute for every two minutes of running. It's been a long time since I was in fighting trim for my 2009 marathons. I have to get back into shape.

I also need to get some shoes soon. I've got high hopes for the Altra Adam. I've read a couple glowing  reviews that have only stoked my enthusiasm for this minimalist running shoe. Frankly, I'm losing interest in my Vibram FiveFingers. They've not been great to run in over the long, cold winter. Plus, I've grown tired of being asked over and over again the same questions. Are they comfortable? Do you like them? Are they toe socks? Don't they hurt your feet? I answer respectfully and helpfully, but it gets tiresome. Adams, on the other hand, look like regular shoes. See?

The shoes themselves are zero drop (meaning there's no slope from heel to toe) and have a thin sole. The wide toe box allows your tootsies to splay naturally as you walk or run. It's an interesting shoe, and I can't wait to get my hands on a pair. I've harassed a local shop to let me know when they get some, and when I do, I'll review them here.

Anthem 5K Fitness Classic race report

Good lookin' statue behind that
chubby dude

About a mile into the race, I decided I wasn't going to do a race report. "What's the point?" I thought. I'm bonking this race. I'm about to start walking, and this is just a 5K. A 5,000 meter run on mostly flat asphalt, and I am dying. Who wants to read about that?

Well, obviously I got over it.

This was not my best race ever, but I had a good day regardless. I started out too fast. My first mile was almost an even nine minutes.  Even though I'm woefully under-trained, I had it in my head that I should shoot for a PR. I set my Garmin for 25'05" and started huffing. I should have run solid 10-minute miles, but I can be stupid sometimes. As I mentioned above, I had barely made it a mile when I decided that my strategy should have been to merely finish. Following a terrible second mile, I finished the race reasonably strong for a chubby guy.

Nearly 10K people ran today

What this race burned into my brain is that I am overweight (again) and being inconsistent (again) with my training. My weeks have looked like this 0 miles - 4 miles - 6 miles - 2 miles - 15 miles - 2 miles.  That's crazy. How am I going to run 10 miles in four weeks with that kind of commitment? I've gotta turn this mutha out.

Eating too many cows has been part
of my problem

Tomorrow, the diet starts up again. [Jeez, listen to me.] The training resumes in earnest. I'm going to get back in shape and rock the 10K in two weeks. Then I am going to finish, admirably, the 10 miler in four weeks. After that, I'm going to seriously burn up some miles ahead of the trail half marathon I have planned over the summer. Time to get serious. Again.

I should finish by saying that the race was remarkably well organized and executed. The staff and volunteers did a perfect job. Recent rains caused part of the original course to flood, but the organizers re-routed it. If you didn't know that, you could never had guessed they were scrambling at the 11th hour to put the race on. This is one of my favorite 5Ks here in town. You should try it.

Running culture

I've been on a sabbatical from running culture for several months now on account of my wife's pregnancy and the subsequent birth of my son. Taking care of family matters hasn't left me as much time as I formerly enjoyed for things like racing and two-hour long runs on weekend mornings. I've had to be handy, and that's OK. I'm happy to take care of my family. But I have missed being part of running culture.

What do I mean by running culture? Take, for instance, the long run I did last Saturday with my YMCA running group. We ran through Seneca Park. If you know anything about Louisville, you know Seneca & Cherokee Parks are full of runners most weekend mornings but especially on Saturday mornings in the weeks before the Derby Mini-Marathon. Running there, as opposed to my neighborhood, is akin to running through NYC's Central Park, comparatively speaking. There are hordes of runners everywhere, running in groups and individually, struggling up and down the hills. Every few steps, you enjoy (or endure, if you're hung over) the wave or nod of another fellow runner.

And in a couple hours, I am going to my first race packet pickup since April. The Anthem Fitness Classic 5K is this weekend; and I'm going to pick up my t-shirt and bib, like I have done dozens of times before for so many races. There, I will see chubby first-timers and lean, FRBs (front-running bastards.) I'll see vendors hawking all sorts of gear and gaggles of cheery volunteers answering the same questions over and over.

All of this is part of what I call running culture. Shared rituals, experiences, symbols. The shared rituals like Saturday morning long runs in an idyllic, hilly suburban park. Like picking up your t-shirt before a race. Like pinning your bib on the night before. I've missed being a part of this larger community. And tomorrow morning, at 8 AM, I will line up with a few thousand dear friends to run another race together. I can't wait.

Reflecting on Christmas 2010

Yesterday, I ran six miles with my YMCA training group. This fine bunch of people are training for the Triple Crown and/or Derby Mini-Marathon. The course took us through the hills of Cherokee and Seneca Parks, and for this flatlander, it was murder. I ran the first half of the out-and-back course with Helga and did OK. By OK, I mean that she carried on a conversation with me, and my contribution was a series of grunts. On the way back, she wanted to stretch her legs more and so off she went. I finished the course by running a run-two/walk-one minute pattern. I thought I would be incredibly sore today. I'm feeling well, actually. I'm thinking about running a couple miles if it ever stops raining.

---

Santa Fernando

I realized I forgot to mention the awesome Christmas I had this year. Related to running, Santa Fernando brought me some Brooks running pants, which were much appreciated. Now I can layer my pants with tights and run in colder weather. Also, I don't have to run around in tights all the time, which I find embarrassing in any weather. 

One of the best gifts I've gotten in years is something my wife made for me -- a racing bib scrapbook. Embossed with various photos and inspirational sayings, this simple cardboard ring-bound keepsake keeps all my racing bibs in one neat place, perfect for reflecting on or showing to bored house-guests.

Isn't that cool? And as I finish more races, I just un-clip, insert, and re-clip. Scalable and attractive.

Next week, I have lots of miles to run, and at the end of it, I have my first race in a long time -- the Anthem Fitness 5K.

Runaways

I watched The Runaways today, and so that's what I'm calling this post.

Jack Eli 

There's not been much activity here on account of this guy, and the run-up to his arrival on January 28th. My running has been sporadic and passionless for months now as my wife's condition grew less ambulatory. I won't bore you with details except to say that I had a lot on my plate with taking care of her and our seven-year-old. It's paid off in dividends, however. I mean, look at the little guy. We make beautiful babies.

So, I haven't been running much, but this week, I have been bounding back. Helped by some unseasonably mild weather, I have done a couple two or three milers around the neighborhood when mom & Jack haven't needed me. My legs, atrophied from disuse, usually feel like tree trunks, and I find myself out of breath before a half-mile has past. Once again, I find myself starting over with my running. And me with a 5K coming up next weekend.

This weekend, I have my running group. Due to family commitments, I have missed the first three meetings of this YMCA-sponsored training club. I hope they'll forgive me. [If they don't, I'll show them baby pictures until they lighten up.] The plan, Saturday, is to do six miles in the hills of Cherokee Park. The weather is supposed to be nice-ish, so I ought to be able to run in Vibrams. [I don't run in them if the weather is below 45 because my feet get too cold, even with Injini socks.]

So that's what's going on. I am training for the Triple Crown, so I have the Anthem 5K next weekend, the Rodes City Run [10K] two weeks hence, and the Papa John's 10 Miler two weeks after that. Y'all come out!

2011 > 2010

These pages have been idle because I haven't had much to say about my running.  You can chalk it up to 2010 being a lousy running year for me.  I logged fewer than 500 miles, after having run more than 1000 in 2009.  Of course, one could say that I didn't run two marathons in 2010. Naturally, my training miles should have been fewer.  But to go from 1000+ to 500- isn't a mere relaxation of training discipline to reflect a lighter schedule.  It indicated a serious derailment.  How did I get so far off track?

1. Post-Chicago depression.  After completing the 2009 Chicago Marathon, I fell into a depression that initially centered on my running but later spread into other areas.  I felt like I trained hard for Chicago, even doing disciplined [for me] speedwork, yet I only shaved 20 minutes off my time from my first and only other marathon.  Discouraged, I ran less in 2010.  And, like a negative feedback loop, the mood-lifting effects of running went away, and I spiraled into a full-on funk.  I'm doing better now, but this cast a gray pallor on much of 2010.
2. Baby on the way.  My wife and I wanted to have another baby, and *poof*, just like that, a bun was in the oven.  Yes, we are fertile people. But my wife has terrible pregnancies. She suffers every sort of discomfort imaginable. This time around she even got gestational diabetes.  Therefore, in order to better take care of her and my daughter and the household, I cleared my calendar.  No races. No two-hour long runs on the weekend. No running groups. I wiped the slate clean. But without races or any of the other stuff to motivate me, I found excuse after excuse to skip runs. Weeks would pass without a single mile run. Let me be clear: I am not blaming my wife or the baby. This was all me letting my laziness and excuses win.
3. Am I or am I not a runner? Related to, but slightly different from, the previous two issues, I think I also had a runner's identity crisis in 2010. After Chicago 2009, I swore off marathons altogether. Never again, I said. But as the weeks and months of 2010 wore on, and without a major race on my calendar, I began to question the point of it all.  If I am not training for anything, why bother running at all? I had not yet adopted running as a lifestyle or as simply something I did naturally, like breathing or eating. I ran to accumulate miles or train for races or have something to blog about. This was a false belief. The correct belief is that I run because I have to. I want to. I enjoy it. It's self-medication. It's my alone-time. It's my meditation. It's what keeps me healthy. It's what I do. In 2011, though I will resume racing and the rest, I will strive to correct this way of thinking and be less distracted by extrinsic motivators. 

Many of the running bloggers I follow are doing their 2010 recaps and 2011 projections, and so now you have mine. 2010 was a disappointment but full of lessons. 2011 will be better. All I have to do is run.

November's key word is discipline

Last week was a good week. I ran 100% on-plan. Although that didn't mean much in terms of mileage, it meant a hell of a lot in terms of staying focused and disciplined. I'm training to rebuild my discipline as much as my endurance. This week, I'll add another 10% with another 10% the week after that and the week after that.  I build for three weeks and then do an easier week wherein I go back to the first week's mileage.  My intent is to slowly, smartly build to a sustained 40 or 50 miles per week (MPW). I feel like that's a good level for me, though I have never done it in training. My maximum MPW has only ever been in the mid-30s during peak weeks of marathon training. So why do this to myself? Because I feel like I have a four-hour marathon within me, and I am not convinced I can achieve it without increasing my volume.  Once my volume is up, I will increase quality. 

Besides, I never feel better than when I am running 20-30 miles per week. My weight drops and my mood lifts. I know that's where my running needs to be.

Today, I shall apply for the 2011 NYC marathon. It's a lottery system, so there's a good chance I won't get in. But if I don't apply, I am guaranteed to not get in.  I really want to do this marathon. If I fail to get in, maybe I'll do Chicago again. Or Flying Pig.  The Louisville Marathon is a good last resort.  It's great to have options, isn't it?

100% of my miles lately have been on Vibrams. I'm not running totally barefoot for a couple reasons. Mainly, it's because there are oak trees in my neighborhood -- acorns everywhere. Three miles of running on acorns is no fun. Plus there's a lot of construction going on around where I run, and there's no telling what I'd step on. But the Vibrams are working out great. My feet and lower legs are getting in good shape.  I no longer have any soreness after even five or six miles. My only complaint is that my feet are starting to get cold as the temperature drops. I might need to invest in some Injini socks.

The look I'm aiming for is freakishly huge

I'm sure you had an image in your mind of what I must look like in real life. Probably something along the lines of this guy to the left. Sorry to disillusion you, but my physique is more like a flabby stick person than berzerker. My body is put together like your average twiggy nerd-boy with a sweater-vest made out of cottage cheese. My body stores fat around my torso like the bready part of a pig-in-a-blanket.  I've got these skinny arms and skinny legs and then all this blubber up top.  So, obviously, I need to do some upper body work. 

The problem is that I never stick with a weight/core training plan. I just run, and even then, I sometimes fail to do that consistently. There was several-week period when I did the 100-push-up challenge.  I made it to the fifth week or so, faithfully building up to 100 push-ups, and then I missed a couple days and lost the momentum. For a while, I made a commitment to myself to do crunches on my balance ball every time I went into the basement [where spiders build webs on my workout gear.]  I did that faithfully for about a week  until I ran down to get a load of jeans out of the dryer or something and forgot. Then I kept on forgetting.

Kettle-bells drew me in for a few reasons. First off, they are manly as hell. "Imagine a cannonball with a handle." After a few weeks of chucking this bastard around, I expect to be eating bottles of beer -- caps and all -- and communicating only through punching and grunting.  Second, I don't feel like a dork doing it. Nearly every other kind of exercise you can mention, including running, makes me feel self-conscious. I don't know who I think would walk in and make fun of me for doing push-ups or whatever, but I know they'd think twice if they saw me swinging around a 20-pound steel ball. But the most important reason is that all the exercises are complex, functional movements that work a combination of muscles rather than isolating targeted muscles. That makes more sense to me. Bicep curls are no good to me if I can't move a couch when I need to.

How do I expect to succeed with the 'bells when all my other strength training plans have failed? What will I do different to make sure I do it? I'm fishing for ideas, people. Help! Meanwhile, I'll tape this dude to my monitor as a visual cue.

Crazy

On the way home from my in-law's today, I thought about writing and my relationship to this filthy habit. Then, it dawned upon me: I hadn't written anything here in a long time. My excuse is that I have had nothing to write. I've barely been running. Seriously. Go to my Daily Mile page and check it out. It's shameful.

In fact, I had a dream the other night about running. It was after the 2010 Chicago Marathon. I was feeling blue about not running in it this year I guess. Here's the dream, though. I was running with my daughter. She's seven, I know, but she was running like a demon. The course was all wack, wending in and out of people homes, down alleys, and all over the place. I was running barefoot. And here's the strange thing -- I was banditing!  Why the hell would someone bandit a marathon? I mean, really? No t-shirt, no medal, no post-race beer? Just a 26.2 training run with 40,000 people who'd hate you if they knew what you were up to?  Madness.

What's my point? I guess I'm missing racing, but not missing it enough to actually sign up for anything. My schedule is hectic enough, being a dad and a husband, with a baby on the way, and work being even more of a nuisance than usual. Training is something I hunger for, but I'm struggling to find the time. When I have the time, I find that sleep is an irresistible luxury. I should have run this morning, for instance. I could have done six easily this morning. Instead, it was all I could do to squeeze out three after a heavy lunch.

I need running now more than ever. Why can't I get myself together enough to actually do it?