Miss Sun? What Can I Say?

It was easy to notice as I stared into the mirror after the Sunday morning run,   At least, that's what Suzanne said.

Thankfully, I didn't have the "reverse-raccoon look," probably because of the amber lens sunglasses on my face during the daylight hours of walking and bicycling.  But from the chin up, and to a lesser degree from my biceps to the distal end of my arms, and from the "typical" hem of my running shorts to my ankle there was no doubt I had definitely "got some sun."

The folks who know enough about Suzanne and me know we're often 180 degrees of separation from each other when it comes to snacking, training feedback, medicine and -- most especially -- sun exposure.  She's a complete heliophobe, the result of too many tanning booth sessions in her youth; I'm more selective in what I want protected from the rays.

Training in the Florida Keys permitted the two of us to see the entire spectrum of visitors to (and residents of) a tropical climate, from the pasty white ("pre-lobsterized") of the first-day visitor to the leathery visage of the long-term denizen, and every state of tan in between.  Not every local in the Keys is leather-skinned, as we quickly noticed from our guesthouse hosts, Steve and Kayla Kessler.

Steve, every time we saw him out of doors during the daylight hours, looked like -- in his words -- a Mexican gardener, wearing a large, floppy hat and a balaclava-like neck covering.  Steve uses three types of protection in his ongoing battle against overexposure to UV radiation and subsequent risk of (another) skin cancer.  Steve spends a good amount of time on his fishing boat, so it's a no-brainer that he's bombarded from all possible angles out on the water.  Other than textile protection he also uses a chemical, followed by a mineral sunblock.

I asked myself the question, 'what about the need for Vitamin D?'  I know we can get it from milk and other products that have been exposed to ultraviolet radiation (Vitamin D is not a true vitamin, but the product of a chemical reaction when a cholesterol-related substance is exposed to UV rays.), but can you get enough from food sources if you're not getting sufficient sun?'

Other than bone health, and a decreased mortality in older women, it appears that a lack of "Vitamin D" isn't going to drastically affect ones' quality of life.  The US government recommended daily allowance of Vitamin D can be synthesized by our bodies (as long as we have cholesterol present) by as little as three minutes of sun exposure.  Persons who use a sunblock agent with a sun protection factor (SPF) of 8 would need to stay out in the sun for 40-to-60 minutes to synthesize the 600 international units each day.  I don't regularly use sunscreen, but I don't think I've seen anything less than SPF 16 on the market; which would require a person to spend two and a half hours to compensate for the protection from skin cancer.

I guess that would mean taking in Vitamin D some other way...you could revert back to your childhood days and endure the daily tablespoon of fish liver oil.  Not too tasty, huh?  How about 30 whole eggs?  I like omelets as much as the next guy, but I think I'll pass on the "ten-omelet-a-day" training plan to someone like Michael Phelps.  Beef liver.  Nope.  Not only too many bad memories of growing up (my rationale for not eating onions), but you'd have to eat four pounds each day.  The only reasonable alternative to me seems to be an eight ounce serving of one of what they the call "fatty" fish species, like cod.  Some of the mushrooms, like portabello, when exposed to UV and cooked are a decent source, too.

So to me it seems like the best alternative when getting out into the sunlight would be a modicum of clothing items to at least minimize the solar beat-down.  A hat with a brim is great, not only for sun protection on the head, face and nose (especially if you or your family is nasally blessed), but a dark interior over the eyes eases eye strain while outdoors.

Remember how I mentioned my selective heliophobia?  I believe the only person with more pairs of sunglasses than I might be Sir Elton John.  Three decades of working in dimly lit or windowless buildings and office spaces will drive a guy to near-vampirical fear of sunlight.  Even the least-expensive pairs of sunglasses are an improvement over no eyewear, and will increase your comfort level on the run.

Moving forward in the comfort category, a lightweight breathable running top cannot be beat.  Some folks like the material to be up close and personal to their torso, but a looser fit provides a layer of air moistened by your own perspiration to help maintain some semblance of cooling.  Sleeves or no sleeves, that's a personal taste issue.

The bottom line has to be this:  Just because you live in a very warm or tropical climate does not require spending six months of the year on the treadmill or living in fear of leathery skin and melanoma or other cancers.  A balance of chemical sunblock and proper clothing can help you to remain on the roads for years to come.

Not Too Far To Walk Back

It's great to be able to link up with many of my fellow run enthusiasts and classmates by way of social media.  Every once in a while I hear a doozy:

"u know what the trouble with jogging is...by the time you realize you're not in shape for it, it's too far to walk back."  I'm not that shocked to hear a statement like this coming from a fellow Baby Boomer.  Most of my high school companions, including the sporty ones, would consider themselves to be - unlike Sir Paul McCartney - more than the man they used to be.  Even though, if asked to judge our health on a 1-to-100 scale, we would most likely give ourselves a score in the 70 range, I'm starting to see some around my age "leave" in ones and twos.  An insurance company-sponsored survey of 1,800 persons, ranging in age from 25-to-64, found folks my age more likely to define "healthy" as visiting the doctor and filling the necessary check in the block on the questionnaire each year...and the requisite bodily fluid work-up, etc.
Only one in five of us would say we're doing something to "look good in our underwear," such as a regular exercise routine.  And when it happens, it's more likely to be because we've got a goal staring us in the face; men usually tie it to an endurance event, such as a marathon...women to a wedding or reunion.

Like any 12-step program, the first step to working through the problem is admitting the problem exists.  Lots of Boomers invested the lion's share of their time and effort on raising families and developing careers.  Now that we've begun to have more time to do other stuff we receive the sudden and frightening message that we're not as fit as we were when we were in high school or university.  How do we get back to where we once belonged?  First of all, like our generation is more likely to inform the Gen-Xers and Millennials, we need to not sweat the small stuff. 

If I were going to go back and develop a running habit from the outset I would start with finding a loop course, just big enough to traverse that I felt like there was a level of accomplishment, but not so large that I couldn't do it in five minutes or so...so we're talking probably something in the range of 600 or 700 meters; no bigger than half a mile around.  Grass and packed dirt would be fantastic, but an asphalt bike path will do in a pinch.  Start by doing one minute of running, followed by walking until you're ready to run one minute again.  Do this for at least 30 minutes, every other day for three weeks. 

Test yourself at the three-week point:  Run for as long as you can without stopping.  Divide that time by three; make that the new "run" time.  Once you get to the point where you can run comfortably for thirty minutes you can start to add on time here and there as your body tolerates it.  Have fun with it; alternate hard running with easy running, easy running with brisk walks.  There are many benefits of running for time rather than for distance.  Unless you're in the surveying (or course measurement) business, a second is a second everywhere in the world (great for those persons who do a lot of traveling), and your heart and lungs will gain the same benefits whether you're doing three or five miles in a thirty minute span. 

And if the heat and/or humidity happens to be an obstacle, treadmills can be the best alternative.  I know people who despise treadmills with a passion, but I like the ability to control almost all of the potential variables which can affect exercise performance, namely air temperature, surface hardness/softness, elevation and speed (I'll include the ability to immediately stop the run, live to fight another day,should something begin to hurt badly.).  And if you're at a gym facility where there's lots of traffic, often the scenery isn't only limited to what's on the television screen.  To make certain you're not going at too quickly a pace during the run pieces, I would running the "talk test" during the first bout on the belt - start at five miles per hour.  Can you talk to yourself, or a person next to you, in complete sentences?  Bump up the speed a notch.  check yourself after a minute.  When you find the sentences are shorter, or you can't finish it without taking a deep breath you've probably found the right pace.  The walk recovery pace is not a problem; set it for anywhere between three and four miles per hour and you'll be fine.

Some persons say that treadmill running is not the same as running on the roads or trails, and they are correct, but in very small ways.  Other than wind resistance, there's not much difference between how our body reacts to running on a moving belt and how it reacts on a gravel road, or dirt trail, or rubber track.  Purists can kick the elevation on the treadmill up one notch just to make it feel more like you're working into a self-made breeze.

So don't fret if you're a boomer who's started to worry if they'll ever be able to regain lost fitness, or wants to drop weight, lower the risk of obesity-related diseases.  As long as you remain patient at the start, consistent through the process, and progressive in adding intensity once your body begins to tolerate the new (or renewed) stressors, it's never too far a walk back to a fit lifestyle.

Paging "Diana Glampers"

One of my wife Suzanne's favorite short stories was written by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.:  Our society has been granted equality, meaning that nobody is stronger, smarter, better-looking, more-talented...or faster...than anyone else.  The persons who are found to have those traits are handicapped by a variety of technologies and modalities.  Think the exact opposite of braces, specialized shoes and all that.  Every so often we jokingly use the name of the person in charge of handicapping everyone, Diana Glampers, to speak about situations where we've felt unduly hindered.

Over the past month we - mostly my wife, with the addition of a handful of other persons, and me to a lesser degree - have been working to put a race together.  The event, an age-graded pursuit race, has runners starting times based on the World Masters' Athletics best times for age and sex.  That means a runner in an age group with a world best time of 18 minutes would have a five-minute head start over a runner in the open male (18-34) division.  In theory, the concept of an age-graded race isn't that far out of the box.  The practice of having runners pursue one another...where in a perfect world if every runner ran at the upper limits of their performance, the entire field would be leaning at the tape...what a concept.  Sure, there are running events which, based on the assumption we suffer from diminished performance as we age, award those persons who suffer the least diminution over time, based on mathematical formulas and number-crunching. 

And in a perfect world we'd all be able to stay fit, healthy and (at least in our mind) fleet until the day we decide to not wake up in the morning.  The best older runners have somehow learned to injure themselves least, recover most efficiently, train effectively, and choose their racing schedule wisely.

But what about other handicapping systems?  What other ways could we, in our deepest "Diana Glampers" mindset, make all runners "equal" on race day?  Some of the possibilities seemed common-sense; others a little less so.

Weight - I'm not necessarily talking about the seriously-flawed "Clydesdale" and "Athena" system in triathlon, where weights of 200 and 150 pounds, respectively, are used without regard to the height of the athlete.  I always wanted to ask race director Chuck George about his "Fat Boy 5K" event; I never got to the point of asking about specifics because I was too busy laughing at the event name.  Several coaches have written, or have been quoted in books, about the correlation between excess weight in pounds and pace per mile in seconds during a race.  A race director, given the height and weight of a participant, could use an actuarial chart and do their own adjustments based on the number of pounds an athlete weighed above an insurance company's definition of "is."  What would a weight-based handicap take into account?  A couple of researchers from the University of Dayton developed a model based on weight (to include the effect of aging on a person's body composition) and run time, the results of which ideally provide a weight-age-graded performance. 

The calculator (http://academic.udayton.edu/PaulVanderburgh/weight_age_grading_calculator.htm) is most likely the first of its kind:  No other calculator can make a 165-pound, 50-year-old male lose 20 pounds and half his age, at the cost of a 5K performance.

Inseam - My buddy Charley said, "there should be a performance handicapping system based on a runner's inseam.  Guys and gals with short legs have to take more strides than tall runners; they're woking harder to cover the same distance."  I come from a family with some serious height variations; my mother (on a tall day) is 4'11", my dad is a solid six-feet.  I'm a little taller than average at 5'10, but I am a little less flexibile than the average bear, especially notable in the past couple of years when I try to throw my leg over the top tube of my triathlon bike.  But where I lack in long strides I tend to make up for in a certain degree of efficiency; a footstrike of about 160 per minute, good endurance, and mental toughness...things which aren't easily measured in a runner.

Running is an egalitarian activity; anyone with the time, the physical desire and (in most cases) a pair of shoes can engage in the activity.  Racing, on the other hand, was never meant to be normed.  We have the choice of either calculating a lot of "all-things-being-equal" factors and spending a lot of time in the world of "what-ifs," or we can realize that the ultimate competition when we toe the line is not the person/s surrounding us, but the course.

And ourselves.

Marathon Training: Running's "Rubik's Cube"

The marathon is the "Rubik's Cube" of running.  You can pull one right out of the container that's in perfect condition, and no sooner than you start to screw around with it you end up making things a mess.  One that's almost impossible to return back to the original state.  A runner who takes up the idea of doing a marathon without at least four years of (preferably injury-free!) training and racing of distances up to the half-marathon is asking to twist the bejeezus out of a brand-new Rubik's Cube.

The hardest part is not doing the training that's necessary to prepare for that day of 26.21876 miles, it's doing the training without becoming injured.  Most of the published marathon training plans have long runs of up to 22 miles.  Some longer.  And most written for a general population.  Look at a plan written by coaches in areas where the metric system reigns supreme and you'll find the longest run is 30 kilometers (18.641136 miles).  When laid up against the 50-mile or 80-kilometer week, that single long run will take up half of the training mileage (and possibly more than half of the time) spent training.  I'm more of a fan of spreading the mileage (50-to-60 miles) out throughout the week, with the longest run of the week around 16 miles, or 26 kilometers, a distance which can be covered by most trained runners in 2.5 hours or less.

Even then, there are runners who don't have large chunks of time to spare in their life.  They can manage to squirrel away 8-to-10 hours during the early morning or later evening.  Some ask if it's better to get the week's mileage in large chunks, say a long run of 12-to-16 miles on the weekend, and runs of 8-to-10 miles during the rest of the week.  While there are some physiological benefits to pushing a 60-to-90 minute run one additional day of the week, the risk of injury increases as the runner goes out for longer duration sessions...especially as you approach that 2.5-hour mark.  Add to that the amount of time it takes to recover either at home or at work and running "singles" may be a more-hazardous endeavor than first thought. 

And what happens if there's a family visitor or a social function going on that cuts into that (for example) 90-minute planned run on the schedule?  My take is that a shorter run of good quality is better than cutting short that planned longer effort and feeling guilty about the whole thing.  I like splitting runs, both between morning and evening, and between evening and the following morning.  Sure, you're decreasing the amount of time the body has for recovery, often by as much as one-half, but you're also decreasing the amount of time you're out on the run.  And if something comes up on the social schedule it's not a complete disaster. 

When it comes to the "long run" on the training schedule, not only do I split the run between Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, I borrow a race execution strategy from a fellow coach, Patrick McCrann.  I have the athlete run the Saturday "half" of the long run at the pace they'll run for the first six miles of the marathon.  Then, on Sunday morning, I have them run the assigned distance, half at the pace we planned for the middle third of the marathon, half at the goal pace for the final ten kilometers of the race.  It's more difficult for the athlete to execute the paces because they've done so much quality work from the previous Tuesday afternoon forward they're pushing five or six miles on legs that have accumulated fatigue...no different than the feeling they'll have on race day.  But, they also won't be running as much during the last weeks leading into the race.

During the week, at least on the days when I haven't scheduled a particular intensity, I'm only concerned about the day's duration, which can range anywhere from 45 to 60 minutes.  Anything beyond that is gravy.  And it's important to recover and rest during those times in between runs; if lawn mowing or an extended house maintenance session is planned during the day it's probably better to get the run out of the way early in the day.

There may be a need for doing one or two runs of two hours during marathon training, but the fatigue accumulated through several days of quality work during the week can mitigate the need for a whole lot of them.  There's a solution to the "Rubik's Cube" that is the marathon, the challenge is figuring out what jumbled it all in the first place.

The Blank Spot

I had one of those days at work last week that simply cried out for a run as a form of physical release.  But my schedule had two lovely words, "rest day," marked down.  And this wasn't one of those "active rest" days, either.  This was a "no workout for you, sir..." kind of "rest day."

But what was I to do about the otherwise seemingly-rational mental side of me?  Darn it, my brain was all in for the idea of doing four or five miles, even if it wasn't going to do my tendons a bit of good.  I wrestled with all of the possible alternatives.  I could row or hit the elliptical trainer but I knew I'd either push harder than my ankles would find prudent, or I'd hear the siren song of the treadmill calling me to do "just a few miles."

So, rather than lash myself like Homer's Odysseus, not to a mast, but rather to my dog for a second 600-meter stroll around the park in front of my house...yeah, that would certainly take the edge off of going for a workout...I lay down for a 60-minute nap, waking not long after my wife returned home from her day at work. 

There are several things the obsessive-compulsive runner can do to help themselves on those rare days when they decide to leave the calendar blank.  Trust me obsessive-compulsives:  The world will NOT come to an end, etc., should there be a blank space in your training calendar. 

Some folks might recommend doing a stretching routine; I'm afraid that unless the routine is along the lines of what physical therapist Phil Wharton recommends to runners, an active isolated approach, that the tendency would be to over-stretch.  Massage would also be great; what better than to take a half-hour or an hour of your life and place it into the hands of someone else?  There can be too much of a good thing, and I'm not certain I could deal with even the expense of a gentle massage more than once a week...probably closer to maybe once every couple of weeks, right around pay day would be better.

What's the nice thing about napping?  My wife, Suzanne, would consider it one of the least-expensive of guilty pleasures.  It's the first therapeutic modality I go to when I'm feeling ill or beat-down.  Nothing like an extra hour or two of good horizontal time per week, if you can stand it. 

The Mayo Clinic says that a healthy adult will be more relaxed, less fatigued, more alert, and in a better mood as a result of a conservative nap routine.  Oh, and let's not forget better memory (did I just say THAT?), less confusion, quicker reaction times, and fewer mistakes on the job.  Okay, I'm not so certain my employer will tolerate a mid-day siesta, but we'll continue to push for it.

The naps need to be pretty brief, though - perhaps 30 minutes...an hour at most.  I've hit the rack with the plan of going night-night for no more than an hour...next thing I knew it was way past dark.  So much for the benefits of a good nap; now I'm staggering around in the kitchen looking for the dog's food.  And, next thing I know, I'm sitting up watching Japanese anime cartoons at two in the morning because I got too much rest earlier in the day.  So, a little dab'll do you.

Mayo' researchers say the best time for a nap is usually midafternoon, around 2 or 3 p.m. This is the time of day when you might experience post-lunch sleepiness or a lower level of alertness.  I've known people who could sleep almost anywhere, and at any time.  But a quiet, dark place with a comfortable room temperature and few distractions is best.  I've learned to love my new smartphone because of its alarm functions; there's a "smart alarm" which begins to play soothing music at a low volume for a desired period of time (5-to-15 minutes), after which the alarm goes off.  I use a gentle alarm noise, too, so that I'm not too shocked.  A friend of mine has decided to purchase a wireless sleep and activity tracker, known as "Fitbit," that looks not only at how much sleep you're getting, but also the quality.  We know that disrupted sleep patterns and inhibited recovery can be a reinforcing cycle, but that topic might have to be approached at a later date.
Don't forget to give yourself a few minutes after you get back up to, well, get back up.  Especially important for those folks who need to respond quickly to stuff once the nap is over.

Naturally, the trial-and-error approach is always best to figure out whether you need a regular "eyeball light leak check" added to your training schedule, and how much.  If you're in the midst of an increase in training volume (mileage, intensity, duration) your body might want a little additional rest as part of the adaptation process.

Oh, Porta!

I knew it was going to happen.  There was going to be a "pit stop" - one of those destined to leave me far behind the group - before I reached the first mile.  And there wasn't a thing I could do about it, except for run at race pace to the Quick-Mart on the corner and hope for (zen-like) emptiness in the "coaches' ready room."

The Quick-Mart came and went, and I felt a sense of calm.  Perhaps it was only a little abdominal tension, released by the early exertions of the morning's "sorta-long run."  But no sooner had I passed the convenience store and approached our parked vehicles that the rumbling began deep down below.

Really, there's no nice way to talk about the, er, increased gastric motility which comes to every runner at one time or another.  Some of us more often than others.  And there are the very unfortunate few who suffer from what is commonly known as "runner's trots."  While there are fitness professional types who say this is caused by a decreased blood flow to the gut - because the blood is going more regularly and more often to the lower extremities as we run - that's more likely to cause digestion to slow down rather than increase. 

Dr. Timothy Noakes, in "Lore of Running," writes that the physical activity more likely stimulates the gastrointestinal system to secrete chemicals which encourage gastric motility.  There's also a function of the bouncing and the increase in core body temperature that can stimulate what you took in the night before to, well, head farther south a little faster than the 12-to-19 hours it often takes for digestion to occur.
So, is there anything you can do to keep from having to make those uncomfortable, and sometimes undesired "side trips?" 

First of all, keep in mind that GI distressing symptoms, like "runners trots," can be a sure sign that you might be overtraining, and need to back off.  In this coach's case, I can go ahead and scratch that right off the list.

Food items like dairy, legumes, grains, high fiber the night before...or even the morning of...can be a potential cause of bloating, GI discomfort and so forth.  Alcohol in excess the night before a long run can also leave you with more food in the gut than desired.  Hey, that liver has to make a choice on which to metabolize first, and it usually chooses the item which is more-poisonous. 

A little extra time to T.C.B. in the morning - time with a slice of toast, peanut butter, banana, oatmeal, a cup of hot coffee...an extended visit to the "reading room" - can also work wonders.  I had my tummy pretty-well trained for the past 16 weeks or so, and then when the weather took a turn for the warmer I moved the Sunday morning run twenty minutes earlier.  So, perhaps my mind had well-adjusted to the fact I had 20-minutes less prep time, but that was time my GI system used to make certain I was well-prepped.
Sometimes the adjustment process includes the need to plan ones' running routes around the availability of toilet facilities.  One of my favorite Sunday morning routes - a loop around our airport - begins at an exercise facility which has two reasonably-stocked bathroom facilities.  We also have a city parks and recreation facility, and our house, along the loop.

If changing your diet, your preparation and your route doesn't solve or at least quiet the complaints from the colon, Noakes suggests a small dose of loperamide (Imodium) be taken before the run.

While there's nothing delicate which can be said about the gastrointestinal distress and misadventures which can happen to a runner, take comfort in knowing there are two types of runners in this world:  those who have had to imitate a bear in the woods...

Filling In That Hole

There's nothing like having a senior moment influence your workout.  Rather than run five-to-twelve one-kilometer pieces with rest cycles in between, I ended up doing a version of "ten the hard way" the other morning with my little run group.  Actually, in front of them.

Pete and I got to chattering about his injuries, fitness, training, and racing with about three miles to go.  He decided to run a five kilometer race in the morning, then turn around and race a second event in the afternoon.  Not surprisingly, he marveled at how much more fatigued - and how much more slowly - he raced that evening.

All this, naturally, provided a teachable moment on the joys of recovery.

It seems all too simple:  Exertion (stress) leads to decline in fitness (trough), then a return to homeostasis (baseline) and eventual supercompensation (peak), given enough time.  Add more stress before the return to baseline and you've begun to dig a "deeper hole."  Play your cards right with the level and timing of stress and rest, and over time the baseline is a little higher...that means the athlete is more fit than when they started.

If Pete had been running twice a day - or at the least the occasional run late in the afternoon, followed by a run early the following morning - I believe he would have known how a short recovery period would affect his second run.  He could have learned from trial-and-error how much rest, how much fluid and nutrition, and what specific techniques would have worked.  Or at least what would would not.

Research literature is loaded with many different recovery-enhancing modalities; some of which aren't as highly-touted or marketed as the more-questionable ones.  Naturally, not everyone will benefit equally from the same routine; what works best for you works best for you.

Protein and simple sugars - The latest and most popular blend of protein and simple sugars appears to be chocolate milk.  The moo-juice's advantages definitely lie in the ability to down serious grams of protein and carbohydrates in a matter of seconds almost immediately after the run ends.  Try THAT with a sports nutrition bar!  SlimFast shakes and the Gatorade post-workout shake have also been recommended by several coaches, too, but I started to wonder what the lactose-intolerant runner can do.  A poster on a fitness bulletin board suggested three parts chocolate-flavored soy milk and one part regular soy milk, which they claim has the same ratio of sugars and protein.

Hydration - Water, naturally, is the best choice for hydration, but you only need to drink until your thirst is sated.  A new book by one of my favorite 'smart people,' Dr. Timothy Noakes says the "hydration industry" is, well, 'all wet.'  We didn't have hydration "issues," he says in a recent British Journal of Sports Medicine podcast interview, "until about two decades ago."

Shower - There's nothing like a really warm shower after a hard run; if you have a handheld shower head (especially one with a massage function!) you can focus the flow along the muscles of the lower extremities.  Even though heat and cold treatments are questionable when it comes to muscle soreness, there are very few persons I know who have felt worse after a shower.

Rest - Besides, once you've finished a shower you're probably going to feel like laying down for a bit of a nap.  Even a couple of extra hours of sleep are beneficial to the healing process; sleep deprivation, on the other hand, was found to increase insulin resistance and decrease glucose tolerance, leading to a decreased time-to-exhaustion during exercise.

So, hanging out with the friends and sucking down a couple of adult beverages of choice after a morning's race is perfectly fine, as long as you're not planning to go out and do another race in the afternoon.