Good Time for a Recovery Week

I just looked over my running schedule, and realized I didn’t miss as many runs due to injury as I thought I had. In fact, the couple of runs I missed were all over three weeks ago. I guess this means a couple of things. First, I need to stop whining. Second, I need to stop whining.

Even though I am removed from the days when little elves poked fiery stakes into my foot with every step I took, I still couldn’t help but feel like I needed my scheduled recovery week last week. I just felt like I was a half step behind everything, and the ensuing consternation over where I was compared to where I wanted to be made me lose sight of my marathon goals and all of the little things I had been doing to try and make them a reality.

A week with two eight mile runs interspersed with seven miles of non-speed work helped me get my concentration back. It was brilliant. I didn’t need to worry about fatigue, overstressing body parts, or anything else really. I just ran. And I was able to keep well within the prescribed, albeit modest, speed goals without any problems. This made for a happy deetschei, and I am once again looking forward to a marathon that is, actually, not that far away.

This week I am gearing up for my final twenty mile run. The last one went so well, I am almost afraid to run it again. I feel like I couldn’t possibly repeat the generally pleasant experience of finishing twenty miles without wanting to amputate massive parts of my lower body. In actuality, I’m setting the bar higher this time because I need to run it faster. Who knows what will happen. My money is on the amputations.

I do know that there have been some lingering issues with the IT band which have kept me busy on some of my longer runs over the past couple of weeks. It isn’t something that forces me to quit, but it does require some pretty steady maintenance and that constant search for the right stride, in which every step is either a little shorter or a little longer and the foot is planted a little more on the heel or the toe, all while trying to find that sweet spot where the knee doesn’t tighten up and those outside twinges don’t grow into something more. Ideally, I won’t have to waste the mental energy worrying about how to step, nor the physical energy of continually adjusting my stride, in the marathon itself. Let’s all put our faith in the taper.

But before that, comes the twenty. Because it’s there.

Remember Me?

Remember Me?

Apparently foot injuries hurt. In my long and whatever-happens-to-be-the-opposite-of-illustrious running career, I had never actually injured my foot before. Once, in the Bay Area, I bought a new pair of Adidas running shoes that caused some mad arch pain after about a mile of running, so I threw them into the closet and bought new shoes. Problem solved. Those Adidas came out occasionally as walking shoes and whenever I listened to Run DMC, but I never ran in them again.

The day after my last twenty mile run I needed to go to the post office for whatever reason, and it was this very pair of shoes that were nearest as I lay on the couch watching ‘Deal or No Deal.’ I rolled over, put them on, proceeded to walk down the stairs, and felt a twinge, that was not a good twinge, on the outside of my right arch. I took off the shoes very quickly, put a hex on them, and switched to new shoes before limping off the to post office. Turns out, the damage was done. My foot was not right for over two weeks. Walking was a chore, and running was out of the question. I ended up missing speedwork during the week after my twenty-miler, and when I thought I had it all sorted out, a four mile run aggravated it to the point that I had to cancel the sixteen miles that were scheduled on the following Sunday. I labored through my “normal run” that week and completely made a mockery of speedwork on that Thursday. By Sunday, I knew I needed to run sixteen miles, but I wasn’t sure if I could hack it. I did it, even if it wasn’t pretty. I had to stop every few miles and stretch my foot. I ended up with a semi-decent time of 2:39:56, which was okay for a guy hobbling, but it was way off my goal pace.

That was probably the darkest moment in my training so far. All I knew was that I seemed a million miles away from my happy twenty miler, and that everything went wrong the day after I finally registered. Thanks to those shoes.

This all made me very unhappy.

Luckily, things improved on the following Tuesday. I felt fresh as I embarked on a six miler and finished the run in less than 52 minutes, without really feeling like I was forcing things. Then, on Thursday, I had what was supposed to be a tempo run in which five miles were to be at an 8:04 pace. I had been doing all of my speed- and tempo work on a track, and I was pretty sure that twenty consecutive laps were going to kill me no matter the pace I did them in. I got through it though, with about 7:58 per mile. This was reassuring. I think I labored through the run a bit more than I was supposed to, but the fact that I got through it meant that I hadn’t lost all of my fitness, right? Right?

I had my second of three twenty milers scheduled for Sunday, but I didn’t feel ready because my foot still feels pretty tender. So I downgraded the run to a sixteen miler, knowing that I have another twenty coming up in two weeks. The run went well, although I had some surprise (bonus!) ITB problems in my left knee that made things less than totally pleasant. I finished the run in 2:31:58, meaning that I shaved about eight minutes off my time for the same distance from a week previous. I dare to dream that I am coming out of the darkness. In fact, this time was actually a little faster than my target training time.

It’s a little frustrating to deal with injuries, as everyone knows. This time feels particularly bitter. It seems like an overuse type of injury, but I know that I am not running excessively more miles than I was before I started training. I even checked my log and noticed that I logged more miles in the month leading up to last winter’s half marathon than I did in the month leading up to the disintegration of my right foot. But, there is not much use in whining, I suppose. I dropped a couple of runs, which I try not to do, but I suppose it isn’t that bad. My last seven long runs were supposed to read like this: 16, 18, 20, 7, 16, 20, 16. What I ended up with was something like this: 17, 18, (sick), 20, (injured), 16, 16. Essentially, I had to drop a seven miler and a twenty miler. Its not the end of the world, considering I still have a couple more weeks before tapering, but it means I might need to revise my goals. Whereas my ideal goal was 3:45, I think now I might need to try and look towards 4:00 being my target. We’ll see how these last few weeks of training sort themselves out. I’m still optimistic, and I still trust in the plan.

I think things are going to be okay.

$400 Worth of Motivation

Yes Folks, I spent $400 on running gear last weekend and now I'm feeling more motivated to get back out on the road. I think it's been clear through my posts over the past several months that I have been lacking in motivation. It's been tough to get out of bed and strap on the shoes. So, I thought, why not a new pair of shoes? And while I'm at it, why not pick up the Garmin Forerunner 405. I had actually been planning on getting the Garmin for some time, I simply needed to wait until I was paid for working in Beijing. Once that was done, I was ready to go.
This morning then was the first run with the new shoes and the new watch. It went very well. I'm still on way low mileage--8 miles scheduled for this week--but it is feeling good. I was encouraged by the accuracy of the watch as it measured my 2 mile run. I think it was off by an amazing 6 feet over the two miles.
There are many features I haven't even begun to explore like the virtual training partner--I can already see how that will come in handy on speed workouts.
My run was otherwise uneventful. It's going to take a lot of time to get back into shape. In fact, I've already decided to downgrade Dublin to a half marathon. I don't want to hurt myself, and I'm working on plans to run the Western States 100 in celebration of my 40th birthday in a few years. I need to stay in shape and keep running if I'm going to do that.
Speaking of shape, I'm still the same. Haven't lost any weight, but I haven't gained either. That's a plus. Now that I'm back on the road I might work toward those abs I've been looking for. Has anyone seen them? I lost them years ago.

Make Mine a Venti

Best 20 mile run ever. No tears. No pain. Just tired by the end.

The weekend was a gluttonous one, so I knew I would have plenty of fuel to burn. Tessa’s aunt was in town to celebrate her 60th birthday, so this meant that copious amounts of food and wine were constantly at hand. Friday night, I think I ate an entire lamb myself, and I am pretty sure I put a few vineyards out of business by drinking everything they had ever bottled, then flying to Bordeaux and actually eating all of their grapes. And their vines. And their roots. And their soil. And their berets.

Saturday I cut out the alcohol but helped myself to Hungry Man portions at a family barbeque. I then went home and made a big pasta dish for the following morning out of fusili, tuna, and an aioli-like substance. (For the record: This did not taste good.) …You can see how I am obsessed with food right now. Its all about the Michael Phelps diet in this camp. If I eat like him, I am sure to grow seven inches and put on twenty pounds of pure muscle…

Sunday, I woke up at six and ate. I had the hardest time keeping my pasta dish down because I wasn’t that hungry at that hour, and as I mentioned, it didn’t taste so great. “ots of water helped. I took down two bananas as well as I mapped out my route. I had actually crashed out at my in-laws house, so I knew the route I would run from previous experience. It was pretty much a straight shot from their house to the Millenium Bridge/Tate Modern, via London’s east side.

The run was urban without being urbane (see what I did there? Eh, eh? What a loser!) It was exactly how I remembered it: lots of eel and pie shops, lots of people still partying from the night before, lots of tourists from the Tower to the Tate, and no Amy Winehouse laying in a gutter. I actually enjoy the route because it is easy, even if it is not as immediately beautiful as some training runs I have done in Germany, Switzerland, or even Chelsea. There is a certain rugged energy to London’s east side which somehow contributes to better running. That must be why the Olympic village is being built near Stratford. They are counting on the athletes to be similarly pushed by the fear of muggings and Jack the Ripper’s progeny.

I won’t give a mile-by-mile recap here, but it generally went down similarly to my 18 miler in Cologne. I brought three gel packs and three bottles of sports drink. I stretched at street lights and just focused on keeping my form throughout. I mostly listened to NPR, and by the time I was home, I was tired but not desperate. I ran a little slower than I was supposed to: I finished 20.6 miles (I had to round up while mapping it out in order to get to a discernable landmark) in 3:20:55, which was a 9:45 pace. To be honest, I’m okay that I ran it slower than the schedule plans, because I have two more twenty milers to run, and I can work on speed then. This time, it was all about me wrapping my head around the distance and showing myself I could do it. That part was accomplished, and I feel good.

Well, I felt good.

On Monday I put on an old pair of tennis shoes, and as I was going down the stairs I felt the arch in the bottom of my foot tighten up. It hurt oh so good, so now I am off my feet. I tried running yesterday and stopped at a quarter mile. I have speed work tomorrow, and will probably put it off until Friday in order to maximize the recovery.
It’s about right, though. I have agonized through twenty miles and wanted to die, only to turn around and run just fine immediately afterwards. This time, I got through this twenty miler with a relatively decent amount of ease, and pulled up lame from walking down stairs the next day. You would have to love running. If it didn’t constantly make you want to cry.

Back on the Road!

Well, I'm back in the USA and attempting to get back on the road. I went to Fleet Feet yesterday and had my gait analyzed, by Forest of all people, and realized I might be more comfortable in a neutral shoe. That is as opposed to the stability shoe that I've been wearing. So, I'm going to give that a try. I'm also going to give the new Newton's a whirl. I'm hoping some of these changes will make me a better runner and lead me to more marathons and less injuries.

This morning I ran a whopping 2 miles and covered it in about 20 minutes. I'm making some assumptions here. I felt it better to run for 20 minutes and not worry about distance, than to try to push myself farther than I should. After all, I haven't run consistently since April. This is a very bad thing, that has also proven to be a pretty good thing. I feel terribly out of shape, but at the same time I do believe my tendonitis is healed and that I'm ready to go back at it again.

I'm going to run some numbers through Runner's World today and find a training plan to get me back on track for a marathon slowly and sanely. In fact, although I will run the Dublin Marathon, I think I'm going to give myself 6 months to train for the next one. Perhaps the Paris Marathon which will be run on the day before my 38th birthday. I'll, of course, keep you all posted.

For now it's back on the road and back to getting fit.

Overall Stats:

Distance ~ 2 mi.

Time: 20 min.

Pace: ~ 10:00 min/mi

Overall Impression: Seriously? Did I Really Run a Marathon in May? (S?DIRRAMIM?)