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.

Put A Different RICE In Your "Diet"

"Achilles tendonitis..."

I turned in the direction of the voice.  Valentino, in a voice which seemed almost a laugh, said again, "Achilles tendonitis!" 

"You?"  I asked.

"Yeah, me.  I suspected that's what was wrong.  I could feel it when I got out of bed the past couple of mornings; all the popping noises and such."

"It's a sign we're getting old, man.  Our breakfast cereal is supposed to make noise, not our body," I replied. 

I'm not into schadenfreude, the concept of having joy at the misfortune of someone else, but it did seem a little bit ironic.  Val's also a running coach; he specializes in sprints at the high school and Junior Olympic level.  During my autumn of pain, he would shout angrily when I would limp into the office the day after my own track workouts -- workouts which had intensities or distances too much for my fifty-year-old (still-injured) tendons to endure.

So, Val has appointments with the base medical clinic, the physical therapist, base pharmacy and the like.  But he's going to keep running because he's stubborn...and he hates cross-training.

When runners think about injuries and their treatment, most of them have heard of the mnemonic RICE: Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation.  While this treatment method works well for the discomfort of soft tissue injuries, it's not a cure, and isn't as effective when we begin to talk about the more common overuse injuries from which runners suffer.

The same mnemonic, RICE, can be used to treat the cause of injuries like achilles tendinosis, plantar fasciitis, iliotibial band syndrome, patellar tendinosis, and the like.  Unlike the soft tissue RICE, this RICE stands for: Reflect, Identify, Correct, Evaluate.

Reflect - stop and think:  Has there been a sudden change in the run/workout routine?  Have I added distance, changed terrain, altered surface, or increased intensity?  When did I purchase this pair of running shoes?

Identify - what are the most-likely causes for the damage?  In the case of overuse injuries the culprit usually begins with "too:"  Too much speed work.  Too much added distance.  Too little recovery.  Too old shoes.  Too many hills.  Too many crowned or bad surfaces.

Also, take the time to identify what sort of exercise you can do to replace running for the next few weeks; you might lose some cardiovascular fitness during this period, but exercise which does not aggravate the present damage will allow blood to continue to flow to the injured area, continuing the healing process.  Anti-inflammatory drugs can be taken to ease swelling but shouldn't be taken to mask pain just so you can go out and run...remember the discomfort/pain is a message that something is injured and needs to heal.

Correct - what can you do to keep this injury from reoccurring?  A lot of overuse injuries are the result of a musculoskeletal imbalance or a muscular weakness, leading to compensation by a connecting part of the body which was unable to handle, or recover from, the increased strain.

Evaluate - is there really a need to train at the level which caused the injury in the first place?  If the root cause of the injury is strictly to do with poor equipment then I would recommend a gradual return to the training regimen where no pain existed.  If terrain, mileage, intensity or surface changes were the cause, then consider very conservative changes or increases, giving the body sufficient time to recover and adjust to the new stress.  If the cause is too little recovery, then you'll have to figure out a way to assist the recovery process either by taking a day off, engaging in "active rest," or implementing modalities like self-massage, massage therapy, compression garments, stretching and so on.

So, when it comes to injuries, you still need to remember the RICE mnemonic, but it's a completely different form of RICE.  Reflect.  Identify.  Correct.  Evaluate.

Lace Up Those Shoes, Kiddies

I don't get the phone calls as often as I used to.

I could guarantee at least half-a-dozen phone calls between February and May from the parents - or grandparents - of potential youth running prodigies.  And the phone message, give or take a few words, always sounded like: 'I found your name on the (blank) web site, and I see that you do track workouts on (day of week).  My (child) runs for (coach) at (school), but I want to help them improve at the (race distance).  Please call me back with more details about your program.'

So, I'd call back and graciously decline their offer to potentially coach the 'next great American runner.' Lake Wobegon syndrome ("...all the children are above-average") notwithstanding.  To me, youth coaching is a trip to the dark side of the Freudian pleasure-pain calculus.  Think Clarence Thomas at a confirmation hearing.  Bill Clinton defining 'is' during a deposition.  Lance Armstrong in an interview with Oprah Winfrey.

My (nearly) hard/fast guideline is that I will not coach anyone younger than 16.  If the kid can't drive themself to the track, I want no part of working with them.  And if they already have a coach, well, I'm not going to take another guy's/gal's kneecaps out, just to have another young athlete.  I've had family members recruit me within earshot of the other coach (a personal friend).  We had a good laugh over that one after the parents were gone.  The scariest thing about running, especially when youth are involved, is that a family member can screw up more than one person's career at a time.

Kids should be encouraged to take up running as sport.  It's one of those activities which needs little more than a place and decent shoes.  The list below contains most of the Road Runners Club of America guidelines for youth running, based on developmental principles of training and racing for young distance runners written by Larry Greene, Ph.D. and Russ Pate, Ph.D.

My sport is your sport's punishment.  Every time I've seen youth baseball players do sprints or laps around the field for screwing up a double play I want to shriek in horror.  First and foremost, running should be fun.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it; if it looks really broke, make very small adjustments.  Once upon a time, a family member made a wise-crack about my run form (back when I played baseball); they said I appeared to have been impaled by a broomstick.  Strangely enough, my father recalled this observation during the height of my (healthy) racing career.  A proper (erect) form and reasonable stride length, taught early on, will eliminate bad habits and potential injuries later.  There are other little things which can be discouraged, like excess arm movement, twisting the upper body, or over-striding.

You might not be the best, but you can be a good one.  Strangely enough, the over-emphasis on awards, trophies and personal accomplishments also seem to scare away many adult runners.  The goal is to develop the habit of life-long activity and participation; middle school, high school and (some) college competition can/will come soon enough.  Personally, if not for a college coach who encouraged me to "just go out and have fun," I might not have even considered racing.

We're all individuals, exactly the same as the next person.  In the same way that one marathon training program - or race distance, come to think of it - is not the best fit for every runner (differences in time to train, time to recover, resiliency), it's important for adults and coaches to allow for different abilities and physical maturity levels within the group.  Around age 12-to-14 training distances and durations can be slowly increased, leading to systematic and competitive training.  I was questioned the other weekend about the optimal training volume for 5K racing, at which point the father of a young man who was working out with the group looked at me in a shocked manner.  I then had to remind him my answers and guidance focuses more toward adult runners, and that in the case of his son I would have to err on the side of slightly less intensity and duration.

I am thankful that running is the most egalitarian of sports:  Simple persistence and patience can turn any individual into a more-healthy, more-active, and more-engaged person.  As a well-known running writer has often said, 'there is no limit where running can take you.'

Tomorrow Ain't As Bad As It Seems

"...the good old days weren't always good, and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems." -- Billy Joel, "Keeping The Faith" (1983)

So, I was running along the perimeter of the local airport with one of my athletes and my wife the other day (we passed my wife about five minutes earlier, but that's par for the course). As always, conversations of substance begin once runners get past that "oh, God, this kind of bites" feeling (usually during the first mile or so) and into the rhythm of the run.

The morning topic happened to touch upon age, aging, and most specifically, aging up into a new running age bracket. Deena, my "poster child" athlete of the moment, feels compelled to take her newly-found running strength and go "dominate the dojo." While she's not the best in her age bracket, she's become very good and will probably put a scare into the one or two gals who are better than she. Deena says she wants to see whether she can run better times at some 10K races she ran in the past, before she doesn't have the speed at her disposal. Of course, she feels concerned because she thinks she won't improve or maintain her fitness over the next couple of years.

Naturally, my job as her coach is to make sure she stays healthy in order to meet the big running milestones of her life, which right now means next year's Boston Marathon. I'm not used to thinking about training plans in time frames of longer than six months; most of my athletes to this point (in my experience as coach) haven't elaborated as specifically on their goal events as this recent crop.

Aging is an inevitable outcome. When you consider the thoroughly unsavory alternative to aging, it does seem fairly acceptable. Some people, like my wife, approach it with no small amount of grace and humor. Other persons, like me, vary in degrees of kicking and screaming, especially when we observe the ways (running the gamut from hair dye to needless surgical procedures) our fellow humans try to ignore or turn back the clock.

One of my dear friends, Ruben, has a high running pedigree; a contemporary of Frank Shorter, Jack Bacheler, Jeff Galloway, Benji Durden, Jerry Slaven, Barry Brown, et. al., during the glory days of the Florida Track Club three decades ago. Hang out with him after a road race, even when you've had a bad day, and there's no doubt you will feel much better about yourself, even before the first beer is drained. Ruben always has a kind word about every participant's performance, and seems to know exactly where the silver lining hides within the darkest of clouds. When a guy has genuinely endured what John L. Parker Jr. called "the trial of miles," raced at national championships and Olympic Trials, I guess everything else could be considered a bit of a letdown. If there's a man who has the right to play the self-pitying "I used to run this distance in..." card, it's Ruben. He's more likely to tell you a story about holding hands with a fellow runner because neither guy wanted to let the other lose. I used to think Coach Slaven was kidding when he would tell those tales after our morning runs. After meeting Ruben I knew they were all true.

Sometimes the hardest part of moving forward is knowing what to do with the past. Perhaps the best thing to do is the running equivalent of Baz Luhrman's advice in "Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen:" Keep your old love letters. Throw out your old bank statements.

It's the feelings, more than the numbers, that matter when it comes to running...especially as we become more seasoned.

A Letter From A Friend...

Every once in a while friends and classmates from the great beyond touch base with me, either through social networking sites like Facebook or shoot me a direct e-mail. Every so often it's just to say hello and make certain we're both still alive and running. Once in a blue moon it's a business call. Today, I did my Lucy Van Pelt ("Peanuts") thing and switched my "invisible sign" to say, 'the doctor is in.'

This time, the "patient" is my close friend, Chuck. Followers of this blog know him fairly well; Chuck is the guy I took out for pizza and beer one evening ("Two Runners Walk Into A Pizza Joint") when he came into town...we were going to go run on the beach, then said, 'stuff it. Pizza and beer is more important.' He's the guy who hooked me up with Tiger Jimmy down on Broadway in San Diego, who gave me my first tattoo. No good deed goes unrewarded, I always say.

Chuck asks:

Hey Brother, how you be? Got a question for you. As I start to increase my mileage on the treadmill I am finding my legs more and more fatigued - complaining when I am going up countless ladders and that kind of thing. I'm sure I am missing something in my diet, perhaps potassium, perhaps carbs, not sure. I am only doing about 20 - 25 miles per week and not really pushing the pace too much. Any suggestions on something I might be lacking and how I can get it? I know the question might be kinda vague but I wanted to throw it at you for fun. Maybe I am just getting old? I don't want to add any calories to my diet as I am starting to drop unwanted fat (about 9 pounds now) and would still like to drop another 7 pounds or so. The mess tries to keep fresh fruit for us but the variety is limited - oranges, papaya, avocado and some more exotic stuff like dragon fruit but no bananas. I am eating lots of veggies and really not much junk at all outside of a couple cookies or a bit of chocolate every now and again.

Hope all is well on your end. We don't get to talk much any more but I do see your postings on Facebook when the morale fascists allow us internet connectivity. Anyway thanks for any suggestions, I am off to get my midnight meal. Then to the gym for my "treadmiles."

So, what would I do in this situation?

Chuck doesn't say specifically whether the leg fatigue is calf, quadriceps or hamstring-related, but it might be both a combination of whatever else he does as part of his work tramping around on all those nasty nonskid surfaces, his diet (which actually sounds better than this ol' coach's) and maybe his run routine.

Three things I recommended:

1. Compression wear - when not running, a pair of calf sleeves or tights will help keep the muscles warm and secure, as well as discourage the blood from remaining down in the lower limbs.

2. Diet modifications - his diet is loaded with fruits and veggies, but it's possible he's not hydrating enough. The microtears which occur in muscles undergoing hard training - and in Chuck's case, real life - might need a little help in repair. This can possibly be covered by adding a little more lean chicken, fish, or beef, or mixing whole grains and legumes to make a whole protein. I don't think a little junk food every now and then is a bad thing...as long as it's a "little."

3. Change of pace - Exactly that. Put a little kick in the treadmill workouts by changing the elevation of the deck; an increase in elevation can be countered by slowing the belt's pace a little...the cardiovascular system still gets its work, but the muscles are worked a little differently. It's kind of like doing barbell curls with the hands at different positions on the bar, or doing dumbell curls, or doing hammer curls (the ones where the wrist and forearm are rotated during the curl). Same thing, only a little different.

The diet and hydration issue is probably the easiest to change, so I would try it first. If that doesn't work, then I would make a change to the treadmill workout, compression stuff would be last.

When looking for a solution, the smallest or most inexpensive changes are usually the most effective. And if they don't work, then you haven't lost any money on the implementation.

Cheers, brother!
MB

Feeling Positive About The Negatives

(Sandy - 1st Female Overall, Chris - 1st Master's Male, & MB after the Jingle Bell 10K)

So the plan was for 14 miles this weekend. However, my friend Scott (a.k.a. Knaves) asked if I was going to come over to Ft. Walton Beach, FL for the Arthritis Foundation Jingle Bell 10K. The last time I ran this race - seven years ago - it was 30 degrees colder & 20 miles per hour windier on the day. My friend Sandy was trying to PR at the 10k; her boyfriend Chris, & Brian, another friend, were going to pace her. Chris & Brian left her hanging in the wind for the last two miles, so I ran her in. She got her PR, which lasted for seven years, (which she reminded me the other day!), & I had a great time strutting my stuff in the chill. Of course, I was very (5K & 10K) race-healthy then. Now, working toward a marathon, with questionable achilles' tendons, it might have been a tad stupid to race. But, Suzanne & I like Knaves, & the race was late enough in the morning, so...

Chris warmed up with Suzanne & me before Sandy, Brian, Chris & I jogged the first mile of the course. He said to me: 'you going to do 39 today?' Of course, my answer was, 'Not today. This is part of the long run for the weekend. Just going out to have some fun.' Once the race started, it definitely was fun, all right.

I normally blow past 90-percent of the field at the first mile, after which it's no-man's-land for the remainder of the race; the studs leave me way behind & I'm strung out in between the really good runners & the fairly good ones. But this time, I went easy the first mile with Knaves, then slowly started to ratchet up the pace. Amazingly, I picked off runners here & there on the course between mile three & four. One guy said to me as I went by at mile four, 'nice kick.' I wasn't too certain about the tactics of the day, even at that point; I smiled (Maybe that was a grimace; they both look alike from a distance.) & told him so.

Passing a couple of greyhounds (Real greyhounds - they had a dog walk at the same time.) at the fifth mile, & all I could think was 'how much longer can I do this?' It was probably good I couldn't read my heart rate monitor, only my pace; I probably would have backed off. Fortunately for me there was still about three runners hanging out in front of me; I couldn't tell how cute the female was, but she was definitely working the pace up there. By the time I got to her, & then the sixth mile, I was running a pace about five seconds per mile slower than my half-marathon performance time, & about 20 seconds per mile slower than my "healthy" 10K pace.

Even if I hadn't won my age group I was very pleased with the effort, especially three weeks after my half-marathon meltdown. To top it all off, Suzanne took second place in her age group. It's not often when two Bowens score hardware, so when we do it's cause for celebration.

Now for the rest the story:

I'm going to make a confession. I have a nasty tendency to look at things & see 'opportunities for improvement.' Rarely, if ever, have I said to myself while hanging out with friends, athletes, loved ones & assorted sweaty lunatic friends: 'dude, today you ran a perfect race.' Maybe all of twice in the past decade of racing the 'perfect race' has happened; a PR at the Azalea Trail Run 10K in Mobile, & a consistent pace at a hot, early summer 5K here at home.

While I've always sought out & valued consistency above almost any other quality in life, the only thing which I've considered more difficult (the negativity most every racer seeks!) to accomplish is negative split racing. Why is this so difficult to accomplish?

First, most runners don't exercise discipline & restraint while training. They're more likely to run EVERY workout at the same effort; so rather than following the hard day/easy day, or even the hard day/easy day/easier day dictum, it's (I kid you not, I have a friend who does this:) 5K, every day, all-out. At least until they become injured, but that's another story.

Second, many runners who have the physical fitness don't quite have the emotional or mental fitness to race negative. These are the friends who, when you ask to them about their goal time before the race, will tell you they want to go out at a particular pace. When the horn goes off, however, it's a completely different story. The first mile herd instinct & adrenaline pitches the best laid plans in the rubbish, leaving them to suffer for the last two (or more) miles of the race.

Third, the runners who are smart enough to go out easy early misjudge how much faster they should increase the pace over time; there's either too much 'gas in the tank' when they reach the finish, or they begin to fade in the last mile. Racing negative splits is a trial-and-error process; once you do it right it will be your Holy Grail of sorts.

What do you need to race negative splits?

I cannot over-stress the benefit of training runs at different intensity levels, with & without the aid of GPS, heart rate monitors & running watches. Why do I say 'without' as well as 'with?' You never know when you're going to show up on race day WITHOUT your running watch or your GPS (which almost happened this weekend!), or your battery dies, or the course is marked poorly...so know how a particular pace on the road or track 'feels' to the legs, heart & lungs.

Here's an interesting idea: Toe the line with a solid racing plan - this particular intensity or pace for a particular section of the course, pick up the pace to a higher intensity after this point, & then begin to really push at this point, etc. - follow it as much as possible. Trust your plan; don't go out with the herd. If your plan is solid the odds are very high you're going to catch & probably pass them before it's all over.

And, most importantly: Don't place any stressful or unrealistic expectations on yourself. Face it, the vast majority of us are paying money to terrorize squirrels & cats (followed by socializing!) on a weekend morning when most of our co-workers are still sleeping. For a very small, less-than-one-percent of the population, what SHOULD BE fun & games for you is BIG PRESENTATION DAY at the office for them.

If it's not fun, you probably should be looking for something else to do, right?

Mind? Matter? Never Mind.

"Mind is everything. Muscle - pieces of rubber. All that I am, I am because of my mind." - Paavo Nurmi (1897-1973)

So much of distance running - running, for that matter - has to do with the mind. Doesn't matter if the target event is something as brief as a 5,000-meter road race or as long as a marathon. You cannot check your mind at the door.

I've heard lots of friends talk about the stress release running provides; usually in terms of 'I step out the door & go, I don't think about anything...' But how many times do runners ask, 'what should I do?' or 'what pace should I go out in at this upcoming race?' So, you haven't thought about these details?

Even a stretch of workouts where you feel you're not doing well might be a sign of the need to think a little more about the running. A friend of mine wrote in a web log posting about improving swim times...but it makes perfect sense for running, also...something one of his coaches used to say: 'when you are running well maybe you really are not running well.' So, when you start to look at your time for a particular run distance, & compare to when your time was perhaps a few minutes faster months (years?) before...it might be high time to do something a little strange.

Go out & do something that's very simple.

I'm not certain whether the root of a long string of 'oh, gosh, I am really doing lousy at this stuff' has to do with only physical or mental burnout, over-training or over-reaching...most likely it's a combination of most of those factors. When performance that doesn't quite match your expectations for the time of the year/training cycle gets into your head, it's probably a good time to hit the reset button for a time.

This could be something as simple as engaging in another type of exercise, or cross-training for a few weeks until the hunger for that sport returns. A new venue, time of day, change in conditions or modality can switch things up in a positive manner. Perhaps putting the training log & techy-schmecky electronic equipment to the side, doing a few days or weeks of caveman exercise, with little more than a route and a time of day to go by? Even a little bit of - gasp - rest might not hurt in the most extreme cases.

Of course, the aging/slowing processes might be a historical inevitability. Wrapping our minds around the fact we might not be as good now as we were when we were ten years younger; does it matter? Maybe? Perhaps not?

Never mind. Just keep moving forward, one step at a time.

Common Sense Ain't All That Common

The workout kinda reinforced the youth/age thing. I think, short of two guys out there...okay, three...everyone who was out were either dinged up or on the mend. I'm not so certain, looking at the last two repeats of the second set, one guy was not pushing as much as the other was hanging on for dear life. I'll have to ask him later.

Rather than telling me, 'hey coach, I'm a little dinged up today, so I'm going to run it a little less intense than what you're asking,' I've got to watch them self-freakin'-destruct. And it's not the track work that's killing them. It's what they are doing on the "easy" days.

Listen closely - if your easy days are approaching your race pace, then you are going too %(#-#!&^ hard. Easy days are what make you stronger, faster, and better...'cause you recover from the @$$-kicking workout from the day (or two) before.

It's five weeks before the marathon training commences. Of course, I'm still (half) in a sling. I walked much of the workout yesterday out of the sling, getting a little bit of that gentle assisted ROM work. Once I started feeling the tension on the back and shoulder muscles it was time to sling-up again.

I'm getting the first inklings of fear that my marathon is going to be a nightmare. Well, really, a four-week delay in base training isn't going to kill me. What's going to kill me is if I force the progression, go too soon into the next phase. It might mean sacrificing one race of three (5K in September, half-marathon in October, 10K in November) this fall and spending a little more time in cardio.

So, puppy...what IS the goal? For me, it's a Boston qualifier. For me, it's 3:30 - 8:00/mile pace. Smart running for 26.2 miles. As my old coach would say: It's not only PACE, but what fits within...PAtienCE.

It's not only pace, but also patience.