All this talk about breathing, maybe what I need is a breather, I thought, as I trudged up another rolling hill of the Mingo Trail at Sand Run. My legs did not feel fresh, despite a day's rest.
The run started off a bit auspiciously, as my usual parking areas were closed off for whatever reason, and I wasn't about to turn around to park at one of the main lots I had already passed. That would be dumb. Instead, I parked by the ford, which you may recall from past Akron Marathon reports.
The problem, though, was the three-car parking area is just beyond the water crossing, which cut me off from the trail I wanted to run. Unlike during the marathon, when there's a footbridge over the stream, crossing would be a challenge. I didn't want to start my run with soaked feet.
I climbed a small mound. The stream bed provided a good landing area. A sand bar jutted out from the far bank and squeezed the flowing water into an "I think I can make that" width. The leap wouldn't make anyone forget Bob Beamon, but it was enough.
The trail lay beyond a short climb through some marshy underbrush. Let's not find any ticks or poison ivy or anything, and don't lose your shoe in that muck, I said under my breath.
Once the trail was under my feet, I clicked on my running app. It showed a marker for my location, but there was no map, just a dark blue background. You all know the feeling. I waited there like an idiot, restarted the app, but still got nothing but a field of blue. Whatever. I hit start and hoped my phone would find me.
A few minutes later, I check to see what my app was doing. It still showed only blue, but it seemed to be tracking my distance. That would have to do.
The first set of rolling hills turned my legs to goo. Monday's speedy run on the Buckeye Trail had done a real number on my calves. Decision time: All uphills will be walked, not that I really had much choice other than turning around and going home. That would be lame.
Even though the trail formed a loop, I kept my timer running. If I didn't make it to a certain point before it went off, maybe I would turn around and go home. It's nice to be surprised.
I didn't expect to be that far when my watch sounded after 20 minutes. I was making good time. Also, I had to pee.
There are facilities on course, but who wants to stop when you got a good thing going? What's the worst that could happen? (Maybe I should ask Paula Radcliffe or Jerry Seinfeld.) Passing the outhouses, I pressed onward.
And you know what, my tired legs still managed a sub-13-minute pace. Considering my trail running pace has only been under 12 minutes once all year, this is what counts as speedy these days.
Showing posts with label ludicrous speed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ludicrous speed. Show all posts
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Secret Speed, Obvious Onlookers
It was supposed to be an easy run. The early afternoon was cool but sunny, and the ground felt good under my feet. After my last barefoot run, the goal was to avoid any blisters and focus on good form. And maybe that was the secret.
Saturday offered the best of what was pretty unseasonable weather for a Memorial Day weekend. The sun shined, but the temperature never got much above 60 degrees. I had just mowed the lawn and wanted to get in a few miles before showering.
My watch timer has been set for 35-minute sessions for a few weeks now, so it seemed high time to bump it up to 40 minutes. Most of my mapped out neighborhood runs fall more within 30 minutes, so my route was just wherever.
As it turned out, there seemed to be an inordinate number of people staring at my shoeless spectacle along the way.
An older man stared agog, mouth drooping to his high waistband, the rake dangling in his hand like a misplaced modifier, bewildered.
Another man sat on the ground before his corner flowerbed, but his torso twisted away from his work to admire my careful running form.
A couple of high school girls drove by and honked, which seemed to require an appropriate response (i.e., pistol fingers back at them).
But the coup de grace was a group of sassy ladies pushing baby strollers and cursing about my lack of footwear.
They shouted: "Where your shoes?"
I replied: "At home."
There was more, but this is soon to be a family blog, so I won't print the obscenities. You'd think my bare feet were some major offense to their delicate sensibilities, but their language belied a definite lack of such delicacy.
Maybe it's time to brainstorm some clever responses to such inquisitions. What would you say?
Perhaps my modesty propelled me faster than my intentions of taking it easy. Maybe focusing on good form begets faster running. Or it could be that most of my runs come on hilly trails, which replicate sprint workouts.
Whatever the cause, Saturday's barefoot run was more than twice as long as the one last week, but almost a minute faster per mile.
There has been only one other time this year with a faster pace, but that run in January was a mile shorter. Gotta love these surprise speed sessions.
Saturday offered the best of what was pretty unseasonable weather for a Memorial Day weekend. The sun shined, but the temperature never got much above 60 degrees. I had just mowed the lawn and wanted to get in a few miles before showering.
My watch timer has been set for 35-minute sessions for a few weeks now, so it seemed high time to bump it up to 40 minutes. Most of my mapped out neighborhood runs fall more within 30 minutes, so my route was just wherever.
As it turned out, there seemed to be an inordinate number of people staring at my shoeless spectacle along the way.
An older man stared agog, mouth drooping to his high waistband, the rake dangling in his hand like a misplaced modifier, bewildered.
Another man sat on the ground before his corner flowerbed, but his torso twisted away from his work to admire my careful running form.
A couple of high school girls drove by and honked, which seemed to require an appropriate response (i.e., pistol fingers back at them).
But the coup de grace was a group of sassy ladies pushing baby strollers and cursing about my lack of footwear.
They shouted: "Where your shoes?"
I replied: "At home."
There was more, but this is soon to be a family blog, so I won't print the obscenities. You'd think my bare feet were some major offense to their delicate sensibilities, but their language belied a definite lack of such delicacy.
Maybe it's time to brainstorm some clever responses to such inquisitions. What would you say?
Perhaps my modesty propelled me faster than my intentions of taking it easy. Maybe focusing on good form begets faster running. Or it could be that most of my runs come on hilly trails, which replicate sprint workouts.
Whatever the cause, Saturday's barefoot run was more than twice as long as the one last week, but almost a minute faster per mile.
There has been only one other time this year with a faster pace, but that run in January was a mile shorter. Gotta love these surprise speed sessions.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Of Wrong Turns and Speed Bumps
Sometimes you don't want to take the easy way. My watch had beeped to mark my turnaround point at a fork in the road. Rather than double back on the Buckeye Trail, I chose the less traveled section of the Valley Bridle Trail to return to old Akron-Peninsula Road. What had taken 10 minutes on the former route took five minutes on the latter.
With the prospect of bombing down Initiation Hill back to my car and ending my run early, I instead chose to jump back on the Buckeye Trail toward the Pine Lane trail head, thinking that two long descents would help me end my run closer to my goal time of 35 minutes.
Yeah, no.
Despite flying down the downhills, my second alarm went off 10 minutes before I was actually done. The resulting soreness today indicates a run that was both too long and too fast for what I've been used to doing.
The good news is that my trail pace continued its downward trend, from about 15 minutes per mile a month ago to about 12:50 per mile these past two runs. At about 3.5 miles, this was also my longest run of the year.
Regardless of this aberration, my timed runs have more or less kept the curse of "Too Much, Too Soon" in check. The soreness in my legs today should neither last long nor prevent my next run.
And so it goes.
My loose running plan consists of just a couple runs per week. Eventually, that'll ramp up as I consider any racing plans. This will be a crazy year. Mrs. Viper is pregnant, and considering any major races at this point seems premature. Maybe I should have led with that news.
With the prospect of bombing down Initiation Hill back to my car and ending my run early, I instead chose to jump back on the Buckeye Trail toward the Pine Lane trail head, thinking that two long descents would help me end my run closer to my goal time of 35 minutes.
Yeah, no.
Despite flying down the downhills, my second alarm went off 10 minutes before I was actually done. The resulting soreness today indicates a run that was both too long and too fast for what I've been used to doing.
The good news is that my trail pace continued its downward trend, from about 15 minutes per mile a month ago to about 12:50 per mile these past two runs. At about 3.5 miles, this was also my longest run of the year.
Regardless of this aberration, my timed runs have more or less kept the curse of "Too Much, Too Soon" in check. The soreness in my legs today should neither last long nor prevent my next run.
And so it goes.
My loose running plan consists of just a couple runs per week. Eventually, that'll ramp up as I consider any racing plans. This will be a crazy year. Mrs. Viper is pregnant, and considering any major races at this point seems premature. Maybe I should have led with that news.
Monday, January 21, 2013
A Slog, a Sprint
Ever have one of those runs that feels like a total slog, but then it turns out to be your fastest pace of the year? That was Saturday's 30-minute fartlek.
The faster I go, with these timed runs, the farther I go. (No duh, said the Internet.) My pace over 3.2 miles was a good 25 seconds per mile faster than my next fastest effort this year. But, boy, did I feel ragged. I couldn't find a rhythm with my lightpole intervals. Pushing the pace felt like a death march.
The nice thing about these runs, however, is that I get to see marked improvement from run to run. My goal is to get to four miles in 30 minutes. I've never been that fast outside of a race, so it's a tough order. It's something to shoot for at any rate.
The weather has turned quite frigid in Northeast Ohio. Despite temperatures in the 50s during Saturday's outing, the biting wind called for long sleeves, hat and gloves. This week is supposed to be in the teens with a wind chill advisory that's supposed to bring the perceived temperature down below zero. That should be fun.
Happy Monday, teammates ...
The faster I go, with these timed runs, the farther I go. (No duh, said the Internet.) My pace over 3.2 miles was a good 25 seconds per mile faster than my next fastest effort this year. But, boy, did I feel ragged. I couldn't find a rhythm with my lightpole intervals. Pushing the pace felt like a death march.
The nice thing about these runs, however, is that I get to see marked improvement from run to run. My goal is to get to four miles in 30 minutes. I've never been that fast outside of a race, so it's a tough order. It's something to shoot for at any rate.
The weather has turned quite frigid in Northeast Ohio. Despite temperatures in the 50s during Saturday's outing, the biting wind called for long sleeves, hat and gloves. This week is supposed to be in the teens with a wind chill advisory that's supposed to bring the perceived temperature down below zero. That should be fun.
Happy Monday, teammates ...
Friday, March 16, 2012
Flashback Friday: Of Altitude and Bareness
It seems all my altitude training paid off, as last night's barefoot three-miler was blisteringly fast. My phone clocked me at a 9:04 pace, a new fastest, and my lungs felt better than they have in weeks.
This weekend's schedule calls for another three-miler and a seven-miler, which I'll likely run on trails. It's been a couple weeks since I've completed all the planned runs on my pre-training schedule. I'm hoping to change that trend.
Last week, I was forced to cut my attempted seven-miler to six miles because of fatigue. While I'm still coughing up gross bits and suffering from a stuffy nose, my energy level is much better than it was during that run.
The weather has been more than ideal for March and is forecast to remain in the high 60s and 70s for the next several days. It's almost criminal not to be running.
Back Talk
Wherein we address the resident heckler
Nitmos seeks to put salt in the wound: "You know what would have prevented that left big toe hot spot?"
Answer: Grapefruit rinds? Although socks would have likely done the trick.
Happy Hour is just around the corner, teammates. Have a finely brewed weekend and don't get too out of line this St. Patrick's Day. Remember to cast out the snakes and don't order an Irish Car Bomb in the vicinity of an Irishman. Run well and drink well. Cheers!
This weekend's schedule calls for another three-miler and a seven-miler, which I'll likely run on trails. It's been a couple weeks since I've completed all the planned runs on my pre-training schedule. I'm hoping to change that trend.
Last week, I was forced to cut my attempted seven-miler to six miles because of fatigue. While I'm still coughing up gross bits and suffering from a stuffy nose, my energy level is much better than it was during that run.
The weather has been more than ideal for March and is forecast to remain in the high 60s and 70s for the next several days. It's almost criminal not to be running.
Back Talk
Wherein we address the resident heckler
Nitmos seeks to put salt in the wound: "You know what would have prevented that left big toe hot spot?"
Answer: Grapefruit rinds? Although socks would have likely done the trick.
Happy Hour is just around the corner, teammates. Have a finely brewed weekend and don't get too out of line this St. Patrick's Day. Remember to cast out the snakes and don't order an Irish Car Bomb in the vicinity of an Irishman. Run well and drink well. Cheers!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Back Among the Regulars
Amid the strong smell of mustard at the big turn before the final straightaway, it occurred to me that I haven't run on such crowded terrain since last year's Akron Marathon. And seriously, why did it smell like mustard?
Sand Run park has been one of my regular running haunts since I first started running. The crushed limestone multipurpose path provides a convenient venue for training, with its smooth crushed limestone surface, well-marked half-miles (although recently discovered to be mismeasured ... stupid GPS), and challenging but not killer rolling hills.
However, lately I've been using the park's rough hiking trails for my runs. I can't remember the last time I ran on the more populated path, as I did yesterday.
There were some familiar faces, such as the overdressed guy with the awful posture and the guy who resembles a pre-steroids era Mark McGwire.
Looking back, I realize I exercised some poor running etiquette. I forgot to announce the times I passed people from behind (an old pet peeve) and I passed two fellow runners just before I hit my turnaround point (I could have waited). It seems I've misplaced my manners.
But then again, I was also reminded of how snooty these people are. They looked at me as if I were the Unibomber anytime I waved or nodded or said "hello." On the trails, my greetings are never so thoroughly rebuffed. Don't you people know we're part of a community?
Back on that final stretch, I could feel my quads burning as I chugged up the final slow-rising hill. Looking at mywatch phone at the end, I noted a new fastest pace of the year, but also the errant mile markers. My final pace was 9:13 per mile, but my supposed three-miler turned out to be 2.93 miles after looping around the parking lot in the attempt to make up for the missing distance. Oh, for the days when ignorance was bliss ...
Happy Leap Day, teammates.
Sand Run park has been one of my regular running haunts since I first started running. The crushed limestone multipurpose path provides a convenient venue for training, with its smooth crushed limestone surface, well-marked half-miles (although recently discovered to be mismeasured ... stupid GPS), and challenging but not killer rolling hills.
However, lately I've been using the park's rough hiking trails for my runs. I can't remember the last time I ran on the more populated path, as I did yesterday.
There were some familiar faces, such as the overdressed guy with the awful posture and the guy who resembles a pre-steroids era Mark McGwire.
Looking back, I realize I exercised some poor running etiquette. I forgot to announce the times I passed people from behind (an old pet peeve) and I passed two fellow runners just before I hit my turnaround point (I could have waited). It seems I've misplaced my manners.
But then again, I was also reminded of how snooty these people are. They looked at me as if I were the Unibomber anytime I waved or nodded or said "hello." On the trails, my greetings are never so thoroughly rebuffed. Don't you people know we're part of a community?
Back on that final stretch, I could feel my quads burning as I chugged up the final slow-rising hill. Looking at my
Happy Leap Day, teammates.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Minus Seconds
Another fastest neighborhood three-miler last night, and my average pace continues to fall week by week. Despite feeling sluggish -- likely from my workouts the previous two days -- my run finished strong with a surprising pace of 9:22 per mile. That's two seconds off my last fastest pace.
Today is a well-earned rest day, after four consecutive days of exercise. I can feel my fitness improving, but I'm riding a long stretch of no weight loss.
Rarely have I ever weighed in so consistently. Usually, the scale is a roller coaster ride from day to day. Over the past week, I've only varied 0.2 pounds with no change from the last four days.
Thankfully, my running has shown steady improvement. My legs feel strong with the slow increases in distance. My confidence grows when I look at the past two months and see I've consistently completed 80 percent or more of my planned mileage. (Only once did I drop below 80 percent and that was because of a family emergency.)
If I were to grade my efforts so far this year, based on planned vs. actual mileage, I would earn a B+, with an 89.8 percent success rate. That's worthy of a celebratory beverage!
Today is a well-earned rest day, after four consecutive days of exercise. I can feel my fitness improving, but I'm riding a long stretch of no weight loss.
Rarely have I ever weighed in so consistently. Usually, the scale is a roller coaster ride from day to day. Over the past week, I've only varied 0.2 pounds with no change from the last four days.
Thankfully, my running has shown steady improvement. My legs feel strong with the slow increases in distance. My confidence grows when I look at the past two months and see I've consistently completed 80 percent or more of my planned mileage. (Only once did I drop below 80 percent and that was because of a family emergency.)
If I were to grade my efforts so far this year, based on planned vs. actual mileage, I would earn a B+, with an 89.8 percent success rate. That's worthy of a celebratory beverage!
Monday, February 20, 2012
Recentered
Amid the events of the last two weeks, I find myself needing to regroup this week. Time to pick up where I left off and return to logging my food intake, hitting my runs and completing my strength exercises.
This morning's weigh-in showed 176.6 pounds, up from my last check. Considering the runs I've missed and the amount of grieving food I've consumed, that's not so bad.
Over the weekend, I had two very good -- albeit very muddy -- runs, increasing my weekly mileage to just under 12, which is only two miles shy of what my pretraining plan dictated.
Saturday's trail run was a mudslide, and I still have no idea how I managed to run as fast as I did. At a few ticks more than five miles, it was my longest run of the year. The trail was flatter than the other trails I frequent, but the terrain was also sloppier than any I've encountered this year. And yet I managed to log my fastest trail pace of the year: 10:43 per mile. Most of my other trail runs have been at a pace above 11 minutes.
Thursday, I logged my fastest pace of the year on my one my neighborhood three-mile routes, and that was after a week of not running. Perhaps I was expelling some stress.
This morning, my abs are sore from hitting a par course while in the middle of a three-miler yesterday. The short exercise circuit included "body curls," which consisted of lifting my knees to my chest while laying on an inclined board. I only did five curls, but that was enough.
My goals for this week are four runs, for a total of 15 miles with a "long" run of six miles and at least one trail run. Today I'm planning to get back to my core exercise routine.
There's a race coming up in March, and I'm thinking of making it my first event of the year. I want to feel strong.
This morning's weigh-in showed 176.6 pounds, up from my last check. Considering the runs I've missed and the amount of grieving food I've consumed, that's not so bad.
Over the weekend, I had two very good -- albeit very muddy -- runs, increasing my weekly mileage to just under 12, which is only two miles shy of what my pretraining plan dictated.
Saturday's trail run was a mudslide, and I still have no idea how I managed to run as fast as I did. At a few ticks more than five miles, it was my longest run of the year. The trail was flatter than the other trails I frequent, but the terrain was also sloppier than any I've encountered this year. And yet I managed to log my fastest trail pace of the year: 10:43 per mile. Most of my other trail runs have been at a pace above 11 minutes.
Thursday, I logged my fastest pace of the year on my one my neighborhood three-mile routes, and that was after a week of not running. Perhaps I was expelling some stress.
This morning, my abs are sore from hitting a par course while in the middle of a three-miler yesterday. The short exercise circuit included "body curls," which consisted of lifting my knees to my chest while laying on an inclined board. I only did five curls, but that was enough.
My goals for this week are four runs, for a total of 15 miles with a "long" run of six miles and at least one trail run. Today I'm planning to get back to my core exercise routine.
There's a race coming up in March, and I'm thinking of making it my first event of the year. I want to feel strong.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Finding Success
A week of planned runs completed. A weigh-in without a weekend bulge. Waking up early to work out. Yes, the past week was filled with success.
I entered the weekend with two runs on deck, a three-miler and a four-miler, for a weekly total of 13 miles. Saturday nearly got away from me before I managed to slip in a neighborhood run before heading out for the evening. Then I had to wake up early on Sunday to fit in my trail run before a full day of visiting family and playing banjo at my monthly jam session.
While I ate terribly last night, my weight this morning was 175.7 pounds, which is about a half-pound up from last week's initial weigh-in. My BMI is still above 25, but it's trending downward to the "normal" level.
This morning I made myself late for work by conducting my core strength workout. I still mostly complete a shortened version of this routine after my runs, but I'm trying to add one off-run day of exercise. My efforts today were a good start to the week.
On deck is another increase in mileage. Four runs for 14 miles, with one being a five-miler, tentatively planned as a trail run. As you might have noticed, I'm only increasing my weekly mileage by one every other week. This pattern will continue until I reach 10 miles for my long runs, and then I begin my marathon training plan, increasing at a more aggressive rate.
One final noteworthy success last week came in the form of speed. Three out of four runs were completed at a pace under 10 minutes per mile. That fourth run? My weekly trail run. Not too shabby. Let's make it another good week.
I entered the weekend with two runs on deck, a three-miler and a four-miler, for a weekly total of 13 miles. Saturday nearly got away from me before I managed to slip in a neighborhood run before heading out for the evening. Then I had to wake up early on Sunday to fit in my trail run before a full day of visiting family and playing banjo at my monthly jam session.
While I ate terribly last night, my weight this morning was 175.7 pounds, which is about a half-pound up from last week's initial weigh-in. My BMI is still above 25, but it's trending downward to the "normal" level.
This morning I made myself late for work by conducting my core strength workout. I still mostly complete a shortened version of this routine after my runs, but I'm trying to add one off-run day of exercise. My efforts today were a good start to the week.
On deck is another increase in mileage. Four runs for 14 miles, with one being a five-miler, tentatively planned as a trail run. As you might have noticed, I'm only increasing my weekly mileage by one every other week. This pattern will continue until I reach 10 miles for my long runs, and then I begin my marathon training plan, increasing at a more aggressive rate.
One final noteworthy success last week came in the form of speed. Three out of four runs were completed at a pace under 10 minutes per mile. That fourth run? My weekly trail run. Not too shabby. Let's make it another good week.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Back-to-Back ... to Back?
Yesterday's weather was too good to pass up, and so I headed out for another three-mile run around the neighborhood and in so doing tied my fastest pace of the year. That's back-to-back runs and back-to-back paces of 9:30 per mile or faster. But can I do it one more time?
Thursday has been one of my regular running days, and the after-work weather forecast calls for high 30s and partly sunny. That's a good running climate.
While running seems likely, another 9:30 mile pace doesn't. Furthermore, I'm contemplating a midweek trail run, as I've noticed the daylight has been lasting just long enough to be able to make it through the woods before it gets too dark. That is, if I go direct from the office.
My trail running pace has been more like 12 minutes per mile, so logging 9:30s, even on a flat trail, would be extremely ludicrous, especially considering my legs will likely feel tired. But speed speculations aside, another three-miler this week would put me ahead of my pre-training plan heading into another potentially busy weekend.
What'd You Say?
Have you seen the latest "Sh*t ___ Say" video?
That's Steven Sashen of Invisible Shoes fame. Remember when I reviewed those her-ra-kees? That "heel striker" comment is totally me. Cheers!
Thursday has been one of my regular running days, and the after-work weather forecast calls for high 30s and partly sunny. That's a good running climate.
While running seems likely, another 9:30 mile pace doesn't. Furthermore, I'm contemplating a midweek trail run, as I've noticed the daylight has been lasting just long enough to be able to make it through the woods before it gets too dark. That is, if I go direct from the office.
My trail running pace has been more like 12 minutes per mile, so logging 9:30s, even on a flat trail, would be extremely ludicrous, especially considering my legs will likely feel tired. But speed speculations aside, another three-miler this week would put me ahead of my pre-training plan heading into another potentially busy weekend.
What'd You Say?
Have you seen the latest "Sh*t ___ Say" video?
That's Steven Sashen of Invisible Shoes fame. Remember when I reviewed those her-ra-kees? That "heel striker" comment is totally me. Cheers!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
A Good Foundation
My main goal for the beginning of 2012 is to set a strong foundation of running to achieve my goals for the year. So far, so good. It's hard to believe we're already into February. Here's last month's statistical rundown:
- Total Miles: 52 miles (16 runs)
- Total Time: 9:10:48
- Highest Weekly: 13 miles
- Average Weekly: 11.8 miles
- Average Pace: 10:33/mile
- The Monthly Dif: +37 mile (15 miles in December)
Before the year even began, I designed what I've been calling my "pre-training plan" to rebuild my fitness from my big drop off in running in 2011.
Despite two missed runs, I still managed to complete 100 percent of my planned mileage because of slight overages tacked on to most runs. That's a bit of a cop-out, admittedly, but recent history urges me not to take such success for granted.
In actuality, I should have logged another six miles, which puts my total miles for the month closer to 90 percent of my planned distance. Regardless, my January running has set the bar for what I hope will be another solid month.
February's pre-training plan calls for four runs per week, while increasing from a four-mile "long run" this week to six miles by the time Leap Year arrives.
This month's first weigh-in was 175 pounds, which shows improvement from the 180 recorded to start the year, but that number continues to yo-yo day by day.
Last night's three-miler tied my second fasted pace so far this year, and that included a stop at a mailbox to send off some bill payments.
The weather is so nice today, I might just have get out again after work. You have to take advantage of good weather around these parts. This is the annual "spring teaser," which usually precedes February's cruelty. Enjoy it while you can.
Despite two missed runs, I still managed to complete 100 percent of my planned mileage because of slight overages tacked on to most runs. That's a bit of a cop-out, admittedly, but recent history urges me not to take such success for granted.
In actuality, I should have logged another six miles, which puts my total miles for the month closer to 90 percent of my planned distance. Regardless, my January running has set the bar for what I hope will be another solid month.
February's pre-training plan calls for four runs per week, while increasing from a four-mile "long run" this week to six miles by the time Leap Year arrives.
This month's first weigh-in was 175 pounds, which shows improvement from the 180 recorded to start the year, but that number continues to yo-yo day by day.
Last night's three-miler tied my second fasted pace so far this year, and that included a stop at a mailbox to send off some bill payments.
The weather is so nice today, I might just have get out again after work. You have to take advantage of good weather around these parts. This is the annual "spring teaser," which usually precedes February's cruelty. Enjoy it while you can.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Pushing the Pace
After the first few steps, it was if someone had hit the "GO!" button. My feet lightly glided over the sidewalks, quietly lifting, lifting, lifting, and lifting away.
The long slow hill up Market to home only slightly impeded my speed. The final result was my second fastest run of the year.
With a 9:30 per mile pace, I'm not setting any land speed records any time soon, but it's marked improvement for the year. Most of my runs are still around 10 minutes per mile, except for Tuesdays, which seem to be my fast day.
Looking back over the past month, three of my four fastest runs were done on a Tuesday. My average Tuesday pace is 9:34 per mile. For all the other days, it's 10:52. Granted those other days also include my trail runs, which average 12:07 per mile.
OK, enough math.
Upon returning home, I conducted a short strength workout, with planks, crunches, bicycle-kick sit-ups, and 20- and 10-pound curls. I still have yet to complete these exercises on a non-run day, but I really mean to, I swear.
Three more runs to go this week. Can I get another one under a 10-minute mile pace?
The long slow hill up Market to home only slightly impeded my speed. The final result was my second fastest run of the year.
With a 9:30 per mile pace, I'm not setting any land speed records any time soon, but it's marked improvement for the year. Most of my runs are still around 10 minutes per mile, except for Tuesdays, which seem to be my fast day.
Looking back over the past month, three of my four fastest runs were done on a Tuesday. My average Tuesday pace is 9:34 per mile. For all the other days, it's 10:52. Granted those other days also include my trail runs, which average 12:07 per mile.
OK, enough math.
Upon returning home, I conducted a short strength workout, with planks, crunches, bicycle-kick sit-ups, and 20- and 10-pound curls. I still have yet to complete these exercises on a non-run day, but I really mean to, I swear.
Three more runs to go this week. Can I get another one under a 10-minute mile pace?
Thursday, April 14, 2011
With Reckless Abandon
Perhaps like Nitmos's Mandelbaum Plan, I've shucked any sort of conservative plan for my return to running. My extended downtime has freed me from endurance and left me with a notion that I should work on speed now, rather than after I've built up to long slow distances. Why not build up to long fast distances?
Every time I step out the door will be an exercise in quick foot speed and relaxed sprinting. My goal? Just go. Just don't strain.
I'm still not wearing a watch when I run. I'm too scared to find out how painfully slow I am. And it's not like I was ever fast. I look at the clock when I leave and when I return and just assume I'm running 10-minute miles. I hope to be pleasantly surprised when I do finally start paying attention to time.
Last night's run through the neighborhoods brought back the soreness in my calves and quads after the first mile. My legs were fatigued, but I was determined to push through.
At the top of the brick-paved hill on Delaware, I gave myself a walk break, removing my shoes and preparing my feet to run the final half-mile. My big toe told me I was pushing off trying to run fast, a warning that I was straining myself.
While I seek to run with reckless abandon, I don't want to abandon running because I'm wrecked. Straining is the root of all injuries. Throughout my run, I repeated to myself the proverb: "He who runs fastest leaves no tracks." Quick light relaxed steps will save us all.
Every time I step out the door will be an exercise in quick foot speed and relaxed sprinting. My goal? Just go. Just don't strain.
I'm still not wearing a watch when I run. I'm too scared to find out how painfully slow I am. And it's not like I was ever fast. I look at the clock when I leave and when I return and just assume I'm running 10-minute miles. I hope to be pleasantly surprised when I do finally start paying attention to time.
Last night's run through the neighborhoods brought back the soreness in my calves and quads after the first mile. My legs were fatigued, but I was determined to push through.
At the top of the brick-paved hill on Delaware, I gave myself a walk break, removing my shoes and preparing my feet to run the final half-mile. My big toe told me I was pushing off trying to run fast, a warning that I was straining myself.
While I seek to run with reckless abandon, I don't want to abandon running because I'm wrecked. Straining is the root of all injuries. Throughout my run, I repeated to myself the proverb: "He who runs fastest leaves no tracks." Quick light relaxed steps will save us all.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
The Hunter and the Hunted
My legs spun in tiny circles in a barely successful attempt to keep me from falling on the long, steep decline from Hawkins Hill. The Dogwood Trail at Sand Run is like a horseshoe standing upright, each end breaking away from and rejoining the Mingo Trail.
I didn't know if they were ahead of me or behind me. When I got to the bottom of the hill, I turned right onto to the Mingo Trail in hopes of finding them.
No one was at the meeting place when I got there, so I figured they had gone on without me as instructed. This would be a solo run unless I could catch up.
I turned onto the Valley Link trail and flew across the tight path, over the railroad tracks, up the wooden plank stairs, across Merriman Road, toward Sand Run. The trail was too winding to see too far ahead, but I kept my ears tuned for voices I recognized. None were heard.
At Sand Run, I took a quick drink of water at the fountain and headed onto the Mingo Trail, pushing the pace where I could, surging and recovering on the hills. I turned left up the steep slope where the Dogwood Trail splits off, knowing that Martini likes the challenge of this terrain.
I saw a man and his longhaired son, a woman and her exuberant dog, and a family looking for the woman and her exuberant dog. No sign of my quarry.
At the other end of the horseshoe, I could turn left or right. Last time, we went right to run the rest of the Mingo Trail in a figure 8. My instincts led me the same way. Lo and behold, there they were, Martini and the other two, running toward me. I joined the pack, but we split up shortly afterward.
When we reached the road crossing, Martini and one of the other runners decided to skip the second half of the trail and take the multipurpose Sand Run path back. "You guys can catch up to us," Martini said, as we continued on the Mingo Trail, climbing straight up a hill.
Our prey would be running on a much straighter and relatively flatter course. Catching them would be tough. My fellow hunter and I would try, nonetheless.
We methodically plodded up the hills and flew down them. In no time, we reached the end of the trail, at a driveway where we met back with the the multipurpose path with a mile to go before the main parking lot.
Sure that we were well behind Martini and the other runner, we picked up the pace on the flatter terrain. Another runner tucked in behind us. I had visions of the chase I had here a month ago. The three of us pushed onward.
I let my fellow hunter lead, as he held a faster pace than I'm used to running. However, every time I felt us slowing down some, I'd surge ahead. The woman behind us kept me from slowing down. We were flying.
With a quarter mile before the Sand Run path ended, though, our chase seemed hopeless. The path had straightened out, and we couldn't see Martini ahead. "I don't know if we're going to catch them now," I said. We kept up the pace until the path ended.
The woman dropped off behind us, but the two of us continued onto the road toward the Valley Link trail. "Maybe we will catch them," my fellow hunter said. I looked ahead, and there was Martini's bald head and the other runner.
We caught them just as they were about to turn onto Portage Path, toward Martini's home. We said our goodbyes and split off two by two again. My fellow hunter had parked where I did, and we still had a mile to go.
Our pace was easier now that the hunt was over. We turned onto the Valley Link trail and glided through the tight path, away from Sand Run, across Merriman Road, down the wooden plank stairs, over the railroad tracks, toward the Towpath and back to our cars.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Learning the Unknown
And so I went with No. 1. As a cautionary measure, I asked the increasingly silent Enthusiast to haul my Brooks in her bike bag. We went to the Summit Metroparks Bike & Hike Trail, which seemed like the smoothest surface on which to attempt my longest barefoot run to date.
Furthermore, this 10-miler was scheduled to be a tempo run, which means something close to an eight-minute mile pace. Now, long distance I can do. Fast (-ish) I can do. Barefoot I can do. But all together? No can do.
But I have a better idea today than I did yesterday. The challenging thing was maintaining my form, particularly a fast foot turnover, after about five miles (my previous longest barefoot run).
The problem is that I'm still learning to run barefoot, and I'm relying on what Malcolm Gladwell described as "explicit" knowledge in his New Yorker article "The Art of Failure" (Aug. 21, 2000).
After I reached my previous limit of barefoot running, I had to think too much as I continued onward. As the miles ticked by, I had to constantly monitor my form mentally, which in turn caused me to slow down. If I sped up, my form would go out of whack. At one point, the Enthusiast even said, "Your feet sound different." I was slapping my feet and not picking them up fast enough to run smoothly and pain free.
And then there was the unexpected gravel sections on the otherwise asphalt path. Those were tough. I ran through these three short sections on the way outbound, but had to walk them on the way back.
The result: 10 miles at tempo marathon pace (9:00/mile).
We're Out of Vanilla
For many of my generation of running bloggers, he was the first blogger we read. He also made the first comment at Booze Hounds Inc. He was the first to challenge me -- and lose. He came out of the closet as the guy who wrote "Cleveland Rocks," and five months later his blog went to pasture. Long spells of silence with half-assed posts sprinkled in weeks and months apart. Yesterday, he called it almost quits -- quits for now. Just in case he didn't want to quit for good, Half-Fast is closed for business until he decides he wants to declare otherwise. Goodbye, Ian. You'll always be Vanilla to me. May you ever run well and drink well. Cheers!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Show Off
The allegation came from behind as I charged up the last rolling hill of Sand Run, passing a group of women runners. My legs churned through sludgy oatmeal on a humid afternoon, but then I heard one of the women say, "We're being passed."
"I noticed," said the one with the "beware of the turtle" shirt. Then to me, "Show off!"
I barked a single-syllable laugh, as that was the only thing I could do after pushing through seven miles at tempo pace. A few more strides and I found a bit more pep in my step. The oatmeal was gone, and my legs flowed freely toward my finish. Maybe I am a show off.
Less Shoe, More Blister
For some bizarre reason, I decided to remove the sole inserts to my Brooks T6 Racers. My reasoning was that it would be less cushioning and give me more feel for the ground.
That, it did.
It also gave me more feel for the stitching that binds the upper to the sole. Stitching starts to feel abrasive after an hour of running. I'm putting the inserts back in.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Between the Rain Drops
A ferocious storm swept through the Akron area last night and soaked the ground and cast debris about the landscape. The storm was still lurking this morning when I went for a five-mile tempo run.
As I mentioned last week, morning runs are tough for me. This one was especially bad. My body never felt in rhythm, my breathing was erratic, and it seemed like I was working extra hard to maintain my form and quick foot turnover. Based on that, I thought I'd be lucky to hit the high end of my goal finish time (40 to 43 minutes).
I felt like I was running in a swimming pool. Alternating bursts of humidity and rain had soaked me through, and my limbs felt sluggish. My pace never felt consistent or, least of all, fast.
However, as I crested the Bastard Garman Hill, I was surprised to see that my watch was at 28 minutes with a little less than a mile and a half to go. If I really pushed it, I would be pretty close to 40 minutes.
The long straightaway pulled me along like a conveyor belt. I apparently snubbed the only friend of mine who would have been awake at that cruel hour (aside from the lovely Enthusiast who was on her way to work) by blowing right past his truck at a stop light as I made a left and then some rights into my neighborhood.
[Drunkard's note: In an e-mail, my third-shifter friend said, "You looked pissed." That's just my default facial expression. I get it from my mother.]
With a half-mile to go, I was right on target for a 40-flat finish, which only made me want to go faster in search of mile pace in the 7:50s.
I made the final turn onto my street. I waited until I was a few houses down to look at my watch for the final time: 39 and counting. A final surge rushed through me. My apartment was in sight. My erratic form finally fell into a comfortable rhythm.
The last house before the apartment buildings seemed to elongate. I finally passed my marker, looked down at my watch, and almost let the timer keep going because I had plenty of cushion--39:54. Just in time for the skies to start pouring rain.
After my run, I took Dobson out to conduct official canine business. He enjoyed the debris from the storms. Clearly a Teddy Roosevelt fan, the Dobber found a branch and carried it halfway down the block back home.
Bark softly and carry a big stick.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Too Fast Race Pace Run, or
Too Slow Race Pace Goal?
My midweek mid-distance runs alternate between tempo pace (searching for sub-8:00 miles) and race pace (around 9:00 per mile). These paced runs and all the hills I've been running are the basis of my speed training for the Akron Marathon.
This morning I rousted my ass out of bed to fit in the miles I meant to run last night. My plan called for five miles at race pace.
Morning runs are not my favorite. My joints feel creaky, and it takes forever to find my rhythm. Effortless is not the word I'd use to describe my stride in the morning, which is a total bummer because "effortless" is my goal (aside from the whole "get super fast" thing).
After a short eternity, I fell into a decent groove. I quickly short-stepped up the Bastard Garman Hill and pushed my pace along the extended home stretch. I was hoping to finish in exactly 45 minutes. It looked like it was going to be close as my watch hit 41 minutes while I still had to loop around the block before I could stop.
I cruised down a short brick road, made a quick dash up to my street to head back toward home. I sprinted up a bunny hill until I could see the bend in the road right before the intersection that marked my endpoint. However, I was too fast.
By the time I stopped my watch, the time had only reached 44:13--about 10 seconds per mile faster than planned.
My goal pace puts me on track for a 3:55-ish marathon, which I feel comfortable trying for considering I shaved more than 15 minutes off my PR last year. However, an 8:50 mile pace puts me close to a 3:50-ish marathon, which was my original goal time when I started running these things in 2007. Is it advisable to shoot for another PR of 15 minutes at the Akron Marathon?
This morning I rousted my ass out of bed to fit in the miles I meant to run last night. My plan called for five miles at race pace.
Morning runs are not my favorite. My joints feel creaky, and it takes forever to find my rhythm. Effortless is not the word I'd use to describe my stride in the morning, which is a total bummer because "effortless" is my goal (aside from the whole "get super fast" thing).
After a short eternity, I fell into a decent groove. I quickly short-stepped up the Bastard Garman Hill and pushed my pace along the extended home stretch. I was hoping to finish in exactly 45 minutes. It looked like it was going to be close as my watch hit 41 minutes while I still had to loop around the block before I could stop.
I cruised down a short brick road, made a quick dash up to my street to head back toward home. I sprinted up a bunny hill until I could see the bend in the road right before the intersection that marked my endpoint. However, I was too fast.
By the time I stopped my watch, the time had only reached 44:13--about 10 seconds per mile faster than planned.
My goal pace puts me on track for a 3:55-ish marathon, which I feel comfortable trying for considering I shaved more than 15 minutes off my PR last year. However, an 8:50 mile pace puts me close to a 3:50-ish marathon, which was my original goal time when I started running these things in 2007. Is it advisable to shoot for another PR of 15 minutes at the Akron Marathon?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
A Hard Look at the Middle Miles
I'm a fast starter and an even faster closer. Those middle miles? I just try to hang on until I get close enough to the finish line to kick. I want that to change.
Last night's four-miler was a scheduled tempo run. I wanted to kill those middle miles. My plan was to ease into my pace slowly, kill-kill-kill and coast back home after about 32 minutes.
Oh, and I wanted this all to feel effortless. I don't want to work too hard for my speed.
My form was my main concern. I tend to get all long-strided, jostly and loud when I speed up.
I'm on this foolhardy mission where I try to run like I'm barefoot while I'm wearing shoes and trying to be as silent as those annoying waifs who blow past me at my local running paths while I jump two and a half feet out of my skin because they didn't alert me to their presence.
On this run, I focused on keeping my shoulders back, my feet under me, my turnover fast, my stride smooth, and my footfalls stealthy. That was a lot to think about that first mile, as I tinkered with my form until it felt right.
Once my form felt smooth, it was time to start pushing the pace. I had eased into a comfortable rhythm, but I knew it wasn't too speedy. I started using lightpoles as interval markers to ramp up my effort.
This route includes the Bastard Garman Hill, which seems less bastardly in comparison to Memorial Parkway. However, that tune will change after 21 miles come marathon time. Once I turned onto Garman, I tried to maintain my lightpole interval effort until I hit the hill.
After the hill, I hit the home stretch. I kept my effort level high, but a bit more relaxed until I reached my neighborhood and started coasting to a 32:29 finish. An 8:07 mile pace. Not too bad. My goal is to get my tempo pace into the high sevens. Can I do that without effort?
Last night's four-miler was a scheduled tempo run. I wanted to kill those middle miles. My plan was to ease into my pace slowly, kill-kill-kill and coast back home after about 32 minutes.
Oh, and I wanted this all to feel effortless. I don't want to work too hard for my speed.
My form was my main concern. I tend to get all long-strided, jostly and loud when I speed up.
I'm on this foolhardy mission where I try to run like I'm barefoot while I'm wearing shoes and trying to be as silent as those annoying waifs who blow past me at my local running paths while I jump two and a half feet out of my skin because they didn't alert me to their presence.
On this run, I focused on keeping my shoulders back, my feet under me, my turnover fast, my stride smooth, and my footfalls stealthy. That was a lot to think about that first mile, as I tinkered with my form until it felt right.
Once my form felt smooth, it was time to start pushing the pace. I had eased into a comfortable rhythm, but I knew it wasn't too speedy. I started using lightpoles as interval markers to ramp up my effort.
This route includes the Bastard Garman Hill, which seems less bastardly in comparison to Memorial Parkway. However, that tune will change after 21 miles come marathon time. Once I turned onto Garman, I tried to maintain my lightpole interval effort until I hit the hill.
After the hill, I hit the home stretch. I kept my effort level high, but a bit more relaxed until I reached my neighborhood and started coasting to a 32:29 finish. An 8:07 mile pace. Not too bad. My goal is to get my tempo pace into the high sevens. Can I do that without effort?
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Cursing Gives a Bad Impression
Out for my semi-weekly barefooted three-miler, I landed hard on a pebble and said something R-rated. Just as I did so, I saw an older gentleman with a red ballcap to my left in his front yard. This is not the way to make running barefoot look not crazy.
Just around the corner, I crossed a road just ahead of a pair of runners perpendicularly approaching the same intersection. From the sound of their voices, I could 1) tell they turned to follow me and 2) talking about me. I sped up.
Result: fastest barefoot run, slightly blistered soles, one offended neighbor (possibly).
60-Mile Dare
The Martini has joined me in a challenge to reach 60 miles this month. This is the kind of motivation I need after my lame April. Success lies in following up my lowest monthly mileage of the year with my highest. The month will culminate in my bid to break my 5-K PR at the Tallmadge Memorial Day race.
Why Are You Guys Running So Slow?
And just in case you haven't seen it yet, here is Chris Solinsky, a 5-K specialist who set an American record time in his debut 10-K:
[Drunkard's note: Interesting commentary from Kara Goucher, who can relate to Solinsky's newfound glory. And nod to Running Is Funny for making me a day late and a dollar short, again.]
Just around the corner, I crossed a road just ahead of a pair of runners perpendicularly approaching the same intersection. From the sound of their voices, I could 1) tell they turned to follow me and 2) talking about me. I sped up.
Result: fastest barefoot run, slightly blistered soles, one offended neighbor (possibly).
60-Mile Dare
The Martini has joined me in a challenge to reach 60 miles this month. This is the kind of motivation I need after my lame April. Success lies in following up my lowest monthly mileage of the year with my highest. The month will culminate in my bid to break my 5-K PR at the Tallmadge Memorial Day race.
Why Are You Guys Running So Slow?
And just in case you haven't seen it yet, here is Chris Solinsky, a 5-K specialist who set an American record time in his debut 10-K:
[Drunkard's note: Interesting commentary from Kara Goucher, who can relate to Solinsky's newfound glory. And nod to Running Is Funny for making me a day late and a dollar short, again.]
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