Mr. Breathe Right

The magic of breathing was revealed to me a mere month ago. Hitherto, my pull-ups and chin-ups were combined with an unconscious attempt to blow my head off my shoulders by straining during each rep. Then, breathing out proved to be the key relief valve and has helped me improve my abilities on the bar. So too does it improve running. Who knew, right?

Despite my scant running routine of three to four miles for each of the last nine weeks, there has been a clear improvement in speed over the last month. The corollary is obvious. Having remembered the benefit of synchronized breathing while exercising has benefited my performance. My pace over three miles on the Buckeye Trail has dropped by two minutes per mile.

My regimen still consists of timed runs, turning around after 20 minutes (for now). Last night's run on the Buckeye Trail (where else?) started on a steep, stepped incline, gaining 130 feet in less than 0.4 of a mile. During this section, my breathing was strictly two steps in, two steps out.

Once the trail leveled out some, though it continued to climb another 130 feet for the next mile or so, my breathing slowed to three steps in, three steps out (sometimes four). The first half is literally all uphill, and I don't mean "literally" in its newfangled definition, but its literal sense.

The second half definitely helped my overall pace, but breathing right got me to a farther point than in recent runs. Whereas my two previous 40-minute runs were each 2.95 miles, yesterday's run was 3.08. SO MUCH FARTHER!

But when you're dealing with set time limits, those small increments show big results. Hence, two runs ago, my pace was 14:54 per mile, and yesterday's was 12:36.

Moral of the story? Breathe, people.

Running Scared

Usually, the downhill would be a place to fly. Scatter-stepping my way across the uneven terrain, this was my specialty. Not so this time.

You all know how proud I am about my record of never having fallen on a trail run, but sometimes that mentality works against me. The trail was slick with mud after recent rains doused the area. Instead of bombing down the hills, I was more worried about staying upright.

Regardless of the outcome, the running hiatus finally ended yesterday, with a dreadfully slow, embarrassingly short run on a section of the Buckeye Trail. My last run was 16 days before this latest reboot. Between the wet conditions and hesitancy to run fast, my pace suffered mightily.

The timer was still set for 20 minutes, for when I was logging 40-minute out-and-back runs with regularity and shedding minutes from my average pace. But that was then. When my watch hit 15 minutes at the top of a steep hill, my legs told me that was enough, and I turned back toward my car. The final tally was 2.1 miles in 30-some minutes.

Brutal.

At least the hiatus is over. The next couple of days should provide good running weather. The weekend is supposed to bring thunderstorms, but maybe they won't deter me from getting out there and regaining the fitness I had accrued.

Flight of the Navigator

14:35 ... 13:25 ... 12:48 ...

The numbers tick down like an esoteric version of the space launch countdown. The trails become easier with each passing week. From month to month, as the mileage increases, those numbers keep falling.

A month ago on this same portion of the Buckeye Trail, my pace had taken a step back, but this time it was a full two minutes faster per mile, despite the return to late summer heat and tacking on 10 more minutes of running.

Yes, a funny thing happens when you run consistently. It's a lesson that you'd probably forget if your running resembled anything like mine over the past couple years, where my mileage topped out at 532 in 2011 and 376 last year. By contrast, my mileage in 2009 was more than those two years combined, by more than 60 miles.

Remembering the soaring feeling that running can evoke has led to a resurgence this month. My running clothes have been riding shotgun in my car almost everyday. It's much easier to go for a run after work when my gear is always right there. Just set a course and go.

Palms In vs. Palms Out

First a quick tutorial (for Jess). Chin-up = palms in. Pull-up = palms out. The difference in grip = different muscles worked. Both stress the back/lats and biceps, but chin-ups work your biceps more and pull-ups more the lats. You'll get more detailed analysis here and elsewhere, but that's the gist of it. For me, pull-ups are more difficult.

Yesterday's run was the first time I've cracked a 12-minute mile on trails all year. The Buckeye Trail in Brecksville was dry and empty. Only one major climb required walking, so otherwise the winding paths kept me flying.

It must be time to up my distance though, as my exhaustion soon passed. My runs still have mostly been timed, with my watch timer set for a 35-minute out and back. When I was done running, I sat on a picnic table for a few moments and then decided to stop by the Sand Run Parcours Trail for a set of pull-ups. This time on the higher bar mentioned in yesterday's post.

FYI, leaping up to the bar takes a lot out of you. I managed three consecutive pull-ups before having to drop down, and then I was done. I tried but couldn't do another rep on the higher bar, so I switched to the one where my toes still touch the ground and managed three more solid reps and a few half-assed attempts before calling it quits.

That familiar feeling of soreness that was lacking in the prior day's set of pull-ups was felt again. My body buzzed from exhaustion. It was a good day.

Why Does it Smell Like Maple Syrup?

My first thought was, maybe it was the waffle that morning. Then again, the "Elvis" at Wally Waffle comes with honey, so the distinct smell of maple syrup couldn't have been coming from my pores as the heat sucked all the fluid from my body. Nevertheless, there it was, clear as day, in the middle of the woods.

Now, Ohio does have a strong maple syrup production base, but not in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. Maybe the heat was getting to me. The Buckeye Trail from Blue Hen falls was almost deserted, except for the family that was returning from viewing a rather pitiful water fall.

"The water's pretty low, so there's not much to see," said the man of the family. I thanked him and started bounding down the uneven asphalt, perhaps better remembered as "Beast Mode" hill.

I've gone back to wearing my New Balance Minimus Zero trail shoes, which have a ridiculous number of holes in the mesh around the toes and along the sides. They make me feel light and quick.

My legs are starting to come around, as I continue to regain fitness. Still, the first big uphill reduced me to a hike.

One of the big mental hurdles I've had as a road runner switching over to running trails is that mastery comes when you no longer have to walk. How many of us have been proud of ourselves for making it through our first marathon without walking?

That mentality just doesn't fly on trails. You take what the trail gives you, and sometimes that means a walk break. The idea is to just keep moving.

This isn't the first time this idea has been a topic for Team BHI, which was covered in the series of Viper's Trail Tips last year. Considering I only made it up to No. 3 proves I still have a lot to learn and sometimes relearn about trail running. To recap, those Trail Tips were:

• No. 1: Scatter Step
• No. 2: Pick Up Your Feet
• No. 3: Walk the Hills

These may be my core set of trail running skills. I can't think of a single run through the woods that hasn't required all three, usually with a reminder courtesy of tripping on a tree root and nearly flopping face first into the dirt. 

Knock on wood: I've still never fallen on a trail run, even when the smell of maple syrup tickled my olfactory senses and distracted me from the terrain. 

There was a mossy clearing just past the water crossing, near where I smelled that maple syrup, and it looked like someone had planted a stubby tree branch in the ground as a marker. It had the feeling of a gathering place.

Perhaps some maple cult met here on dewy mornings to sup on syrupy confections. Perhaps the ground was consecrated with blessed gooey goodness. Perhaps I'm a bit obsessed. 

Step Back, Chin Up

Two weeks ago I was bragging about my improved pace on the trails, how it dropped by almost two minutes per mile, but that was two weeks ago, the last time I ran until Saturday. My pace has since stepped back to about 15 minutes per mile.

Saturday was one of those perfect running days. Blue skies. Warm. Nice breeze. The budding leaves providing enough shade to keep it from getting too warm. The parking lot was packed at the Boston Store, where I picked up the Buckeye Trail southbound.

My 35-minute run provided plenty of hills. After the long layoff between runs, my legs felt heavy and my hips ached. The distance clicked in at just under two and a half miles.

This month's mileage won't wow anybody, but it's already more than double the last two months combined, yet still only about half what I ran in January. My anger at my weight and general lack of fitness is finally starting to create some motivation to shape up.

After my run, I stopped at Sand Run and parked as close as I could get to the chin-up bar on the par course, where I managed seven reps. I'd still like to get a bar for the house, but I'll take free for now.

Despite the long gap between workouts, my legs and arms were only mildly sore from the effort. This week's weather forecast looks ripe for running, and I intend to make the best of it.

A Glorious Afternoon

The trail dropped off at the creek. Newly painted blue blazes indicated a new water crossing farther down, but this looked like more fun. It would require a leap of faith.

Sunday felt like spring. Everyone was outside, it seemed. The neighborhood was abuzz with people walking their dogs, strolling by shop windows, and basking in the warm sunlight. It was the perfect day to return to my favorite running grounds: the Buckeye Trail.

Considering my last run was a month ago, the plan was to run a short but difficult loop starting at the Pine Lane trailhead, going out on the Valley Bridle Trail to old Akron-Peninsula Road and returning on the Buckeye Trail.

My strategy thus far in 2013 has been to run 30 minutes at a time, and this route complied with this plan. However, where such timed efforts usually have netted me about three miles, this run proved to be much shorter, considering the steep elevation changes.

The ground was a little moist, which required some careful navigation of mudslick hills. The Valley Bridle Trail was fairly quiet, despite seeing a horse trailer in the parking lot when I arrived and fresh fecal evidence on the trail.

My feet plodded down and up the switchbacks to and from the shallow stream.

The less aggressive terrain of the bridle trail eased me back into trail running. There would be no such easing on the return trip.

This section of the Buckeye Trail has perhaps the toughest hill in the area. Thankfully, I would be running down it. The long, steep descent has only one switchback before arriving back at the water crossing, probably close to a half-mile downstream of where the bridle trail crosses.

The stream looked much shallower here, and I decided to test an older section of trail that crossed earlier than where the trail markers now indicate. Once I got to the banks of the stream, I realized my folly. The edge dropped off a good four feet into the water, but there was a sandbar that looked to be within my meager leaping limits.

I took a few steps back and started for the edge, but bailed out to reconsider my life. No, you can do this, I thought. Just need to make sure you land square and don't twist an ankle. I took a half dozen steps back, took a deep breath, blinked slowly as if this were my closeup, a glimpse of our hero deep in thought before the big moment, and then the impulse exploded into action.

Once in the air, I got my feet together like a long-jumper. My heels dug into the sand as my knees absorbed the shock and bounced myself forward and kept running. But there are reasons why they remark trails.

Not more than 100 yards upstream, the trail was washed out. My options were either climb down into the gnarled clutches of tree branches in the water and pull myself up along the steep slope of the hill. Down probably would have been a better choice.

Without much to hold onto, I grabbed at the ground to steady myself as I circumnavigated the trail. Next time perhaps I'll follow the blue blazes like I'm supposed to, but first there was one final ascent before this run was over.

The adrenaline from my leap of faith soon dissipated, as the hill took the piss and vinegar right out of me. There were many witnesses to my walk breaks, as the hikers were in full force. The shame helped motivate me to run onward.

OK, so this post is probably a bit overblown for a two-mile run, but damn if it didn't feel more epic. It felt like the start of something glorious.

Hopalong Trails

The entrance to the Buckeye Trail from Boston Store starts with a paved offshoot from the Towpath Trail. As the evening sun warmed the asphalt, my footsteps disturbed its denizens. My progress was marked by the hopping away of grasshoppers that had alighted on the blacktop. The insects and their shadows drew parabolic arcs in my wake.

My goals were few for this run, a short loop out on the Buckeye Trail to where it meets the Valley Bridle Trail and back on a section I didn't think I'd ever run again after my first, hellish encounter. It turns out the gravel service road next to the Ohio Turnpike isn't so bad going downhill, as it provides a panoramic view of the Cuyahoga Valley, which is particularly spectacular this time of year, especially with the descending sun's angular light painting golden halos around the color-dappled trees.

Power-hiking the uphills, my energy remained constant. After the first major hills, my lungs felt ripped open, the air filling deeper alveoli sacs that had lain dormant since my last foray into trail running. Atop a ravine, a white-tailed deer bounded up the slope and darted across my path. Such sights reminded me why I like running in the woods.

Because trail maps lie, my run was a bit longer than anticipated. When the horse trail intersected the Buckeye Trail, my GPS app said 1.7 miles, not the two-something it was supposed to be. My intention was to run about three miles, and the way back was supposed to be a bit shorter than the way out, so I looped around the piney roots section of the path, which in turn resulted in an almost four-mile run.

Oh well. What's done is done. The good news being that what's done was my run. If today's weather holds like it's supposed to, another run might be in the offing. A short loop around some new neighborhoods seems a fine way to cap the work day.

From Trail to Turnpike

Thinking it would be nice to loop back to my starting point via the Valley Bridle Trail, my feet veered left off the Buckeye Trail near the Boston Store onto the gravel path.

The bridle trail meandered through a grassy meadow below the hills this runner had just crossed. The old Boston Village marks the confluence of the Buckeye, Valley Bridle and Towpath trails. Overhead are two highway bridges spanning the Cuyahoga Valley National Park, Interstates 271 and 80, the latter being the Ohio Turnpike.

Far below the I-80 bridge, the Valley Bridle Trail turns left, the sign instructing you to use the service road next to the turnpike. Another sign says "No Trespassing. Violators Will Be Prosecuted." Someone was giving me mixed messages.

The gravel road felt like pure awfulness underfoot, with loose cinder mixed with giant pebbles and small boulders. Meanwhile, the sun beat down upon my shoulders, forcing me to further deplete my water reserves.

The unpleasant terrain may have been worth the trouble had the scenery been enjoyable, but alas the road was a mile-long hill that climbed up from the river valley alongside a busy highway at rush hour. Soon the traffic was a mere 50 feet from my left shoulder, as the trail finally veered off toward the woods. The horse riders can have that section all to themselves.

Despite the brief trip through hell, the trails provided cool shade on what otherwise would have been a hot afternoon run. Water conservation became a concern as my handheld water bottle was half empty before the turn onto the Valley Bridle Trail.

My legs started to give out on the uphills during the final two miles. I tried to make up for the lagging pace by bombing down the closed portion of Akron-Peninsula Road (aka Initiation Hill) and pushing myself on the final flat stretch to my car, but alas my average pace settled in the mid-13s. I blame that damned gravel road.

Puzzling Over Trails

If there's one lesson from Tuesday's run, it's my tendency to underestimate distances.

Over the last year or so, I've been obsessed with piecing together the sections of the Buckeye Trail through Akron and the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. The "blue blazes" that mark the statewide network of hiking paths are everywhere. There are even some running through my neighborhood in West Akron.

With the expansion of the Ohio and Erie Canal Towpath Trail, parts of the Buckeye Trail have migrated to the more convenient and scenic canalway. Now you'll find what seem like random blue blazes throughout the region. Such is the case with my neighborhood.

Until 2005, the Buckeye Trail traveled through Akron on city sidewalks, following what is known locally as the "Portage," a path Native Americans used to transport their canoes from the Cuyahoga River to the Tuscarawus River, and hence the name of the road Portage Path, which is where I see those markings when I'm out running around Highland Square.

There are also snippets of the trail through the Cuyahoga Valley National Park, but I only know sections such as Jaite to Boston Store, Boston Store to Pine Lane, and O'Neil Woods to Ira Road. This last section I ran for the first time Tuesday night.

From Pine Lane northward, the Buckeye Trail is pretty continuous, although I've only ever run as far Jaite. Southbound, however, the trail starts to break up as you enter the village of Peninsula and merge onto the Towpath.

Between the Pine Lane trailhead and the Ira Road access point, the distance is about six miles, but I'm almost positive the Buckeye Trail doesn't follow the Towpath the whole way, as evidenced by the blue blazes I've seen by the Everett covered bridge.

My plan Tuesday was to run the Buckeye Trail from O'Neil Woods to the Riding Run trail, where I went bushwhacking last week. First, I ran a loop of the 1.8-mile Deer Run trail and then diverted onto the Buckeye Trail toward Ira Road. When I got there, I saw the blue blazes pointing me toward the Towpath instead of straight toward the covered bridge.

That's when I realized that the distance between where I was, where I wanted to run, and how far it would be by the time I got back to my car at the O'Neil Woods parking lot would put me beyond 12 miles and likely past sunset without any light to run in the woods. Five miles was enough.

But still, I'm wondering how it all fits together. I suppose I could just buy a map, but what fun is that?