Breakdown...Go Ahead, Give It To Me

There is the occasional morning when I awaken a little more stiffly than I would prefer.  Something which makes my wife and I both chuckle, especially on Sunday mornings is to repeat the tag-line from a favorite viral video of ours: "I am a marathon runner...I must run...I am injured..."  If you've not seen this video...it's definitely not for children.

Within the last year - after several years of abject stupidity, foolishness and plain mule-headedness - the proverbial light bulb went off in my head.  You can only kick the can so far down the road, progress from one overuse injury to the next, before the woman's side of the discussion in the video makes sense.  You realize, yes, you are an idiot for trying to run through injuries. 

It seemed like the right thing to do...someone asked whether I ascribed to the "no pain, no gain" school of coaching.  I told them, "discomfort is okay, but pain is no way."

But what now frustrates me is when I encounter runners who suffer from an overuse injury; to hear them talk, one would assume they were professionals, their livelihood would be at risk if they did not run.  Nearly half of all runners are hurt at any given time, and over eight of every ten will suffer from an injury within their lifetime.  And while there are some biomechanical abnormalities which predispose us to injury, most running injuries are the result of a screw-up on our own part; environment, equipment, or execution.

When the injury happens I tell athletes that rehabilitation, not (race) preparation, has become their goal.  While I like to leave the major medical decision-making to the persons who have initials following their names, I believe a series of simple questions can break down the breakdown to one or more causes which can be remedied with little expense.  This fault logic diagram (a thumbnail sketch of Dr. Timothy Noakes' "Lore of Running," Chapter 14) can guide the athlete - or coach - to a macro-scale solution set.  Yes, a set of solutions; rarely if ever is a running injury caused by one single factor.

When you see "no run" or "rest" as a potential treatment, that doesn't necessarily mean "complete rest."  Complete rest would only be advised in the event of more-severe injuries, such as stress fractures.  Of course, I haven't hit all of the possible categories, and I'm not prescriptive on the strength training, stretching, or cross-training.  That's where the smart folks with the initials after their names come in; just don't let them tell you to stop running altogether.

I like to think I can get to a failure cause in training method, as well as a degree of injury, but there are times when the athlete isn't giving the entire story; "nothing has changed," they say.  "All of a sudden...I can't run..."  Sometimes, the mule-headedness is karmic retribution for my own past doings.  There's not much you can do, in that case, except shrug your shoulders and recommend a week of no running, with a "wait and see" attitude.  Sometimes a causal factor suddenly pops into an athlete's head when they've had a couple of days off the trails.

"Blackhawk Down" Rules: The Lesser of Two Evils

My wife and I have run together nearly every Sunday morning over the past seven years. Of course it depends on how one defines the term "together." It's been a little more simple for us to plan since this most recent cycle of recovery/rehabilitation began during the beginning of the year. The distances have been shorter. The duration has been shorter. The pace has been somewhat more relaxed. This has also encouraged a couple of our (less-speedy) friends to run with us. We've developed the habit of a sixty-minute jog/shuffle/run/walk/saunter/traipse, followed by breakfast and more social interaction.

This, for me, can be a good or a bad situation. Depending on how we feel first thing in the morning Suzanne and I can differ in pace by a solid two-to-three minutes per mile. She's willing to walk with me on the days when I feel badly. I've sacrificed my "workout" on the rare occasion she's awakened feeling sore and beat. We cannot, however, run together. Any time we have tried to do this in the past the end result has never been positive.

There's no way you can force a person who runs a ten-minute-per-mile pace to run two minutes faster. Neither love, money, nor small arms can be used by any coach to repeal the (seemingly) immutable laws of physics...and of human physiology.

So it's then a choice between the lesser of two evils: Leave her behind on a run, or run at her (slower) pace. A runner can damage themselves not only by running much too fast, but also by running a pace that is much too slow. An individual runner's performance capabilities - maximal and minimal - are defined by physiological limitations. The biomechanical limits which affect stride length and turnover are much like the systems of a motor vehicle. Vehicles which have been designed for operation at higher levels of performance can be operated at a lower level of performance, just not for an extended period of time. Like a sports car or a muscle car is designed to be operated at a particular level, a runner who runs at a much slower pace than their stride mechanics are built for will either expend too much energy (bad!) through excess contraction and expansion of the large muscle groups or damage their "drive train" and/or "suspension" (worse) from excess strain on the smaller muscle groups of the lower extremities.

It doesn't take too many instances of running much too slow to damage a runner. I tried to run "with" Suzanne two years ago when we were in Hawai'i. Three 45-minute morning jogs at ten-minute mile pace led to a Thursday afternoon appointment with a massage therapist. Yes, I had fun chatting as we watched the early morning surfers and joggers in Ala Moana Park. Not at the cost of 50 bucks which could have been spent on other cool stuff.

I've also encouraged less-speedy runners to come run on Sunday mornings by instituting what I call "'Blackhawk Down ' Rules." We leave nobody straggling behind. A runner can go off the front if they feel sprightly, but heaven help you if someone is left to their own devices on the road. This attitude comes from being left to run solo from a porta-john two miles from the end a long run some years ago. It wasn't so much the two miles at race pace which upset me as much as what happened the following week; the same group let the teenage son of one of the members dangle blocks off the back of the pack.

Before the run starts, we talk about how long we need/want to go, in time or distance terms. If time, I use an out-and-back course, or a loop which is close to the length we would get on an out-and back. If a loop, the faster runners are charged to walk back toward the slower ones at the completion of the time period, unless they're at the end. If out-and-back, naturally, the group turns around at the half-time. In a perfect world everyone gets back to the start at nearly the same time. On a bigger loop, however, I've asked the faster group to turn back at mile splits or time splits to regroup with the slower runners. This way the faster runners definitely get more mileage and see the slower runners more often.

This morning, for example, I went out with one of my marathoners on the same 7.5-mile loop on which Suzanne and another one of my friends were training. By the time Jim and I hit the point where Suzanne had two miles left in the loop I joked we were running "ten the hard way." We finished the loop, then I walked back to meet up with the slower pairing...who were only two or three blocks from the parking lot where we started.

There are inconveniences to doubling back on a run to regroup with slower runners, but I feel it provides the opportunity for faster runners to see and encourage their group peers. And isn't encouragement part of the reason for which we run with others?

I Got A Feeling Somebody's Watching Me

I think it was a Thursday evening about a week ago. I had crawled off the couch & headed to bed after an evening at the track & my late-week recovery protocol of rehydrating, eating dinner, and watching Travel Channel's "Man vs. Food." I love "MvF": Some of the items Adam Richmond encounters can be enough to make me want to eat...or not. More often than not, it's eat. Suzanne hates the show, however; she believes the challenges glorify gluttony. However, I consider Richmond an object lesson in how NOT to live my life - on the edge of a heart attack. I do keep a mental checklist of the dining establishments he visits for future business travels.

Suzanne was watching YouTube videos while I engaged in vicarious voraciousness. She pointed out an interesting video analysis of the running form of American and Kenyan marathoners a mutual friend of ours sent her. I took a look at it the following weekend, after another friend sent me the link via e-mail. The front end of the video explained a sub-two-hour marathon could be run by an American marathoner if they were to become more biomechanically efficient, specifically in the amount of vertical travel taken during each stride, the range of motion of the hips & the angle of the foot as it strikes the road surface.

I'll agree to a certain degree that biomechanical efficiency (an observable variable) is a very important aspect of good road racing, but it's not the only important aspect. Cardiovascular fitness, thermal regulation, hydration, nutrition, mental conditioning - some measurable & observable variables, others hypothetical constructs - can all be included as necessary cards in a "winning hand" for distance runners.

But the greatest runners in the world can be sidelined by poor nutrition or hydration; Anthony Famiglietti, for example, was literally shut down by years of lousy diet & had to do a complete work-over in order to regain his competitive mojo. Steve Prefontaine didn't have the highest VO2 max score, but was still a dominant track runner, in the U.S. I bet you can probably think of a fellow runner who "crushes" workouts, yet folds like a house of cards when they toe the line on race day.

But, back to the video:

Later, a gentleman is administered a muscle manipulation, stretching, & massage treatment modality, after which he is sent out on the track to run 400 meters. He runs eight seconds faster than his personal best time for the 400. I don't want to "throw stones" at the company who developed the video, but an inquiring mind like mine thinks there are some confounding variables here. Did the gentleman in the video run faster directly because of the muscular and myofascial manipulation, or was this perhaps because someone was paying attention to his effort?

I'm no genius, but I vaguely recall from my Educational Psychology course/s back in college a little concept called the "Hawthorne Effect." For those who might not be familiar, there were some industrial psychology experiments done during the 1920s & 1930s which had to do with changing the lighting (brightness) in a Western Electric plant. The Hawthorne Effect suggests workers were more productive & more motivated because someone was taking an interest in their activity. I bet that little effect exists even within my own athletes.

For example, I cut my track workout short the previous Tuesday because my achilles' tendon & heel were began to ache. However, I had my athletes do the last two repeats of the set. One of them has the tendency to tighten her shoulders up & swing her arms a little wide; we work to relax & drop the shoulders at speed on a regular basis. As she came midway into the turn, about 125 meters into the repeat, she looked at me walking the opposite direction at the outside lane of the track. Immediately, her arms & shoulders relaxed & her pace increased slightly. I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched. I asked her about her form change at that point. She said, "yes, right about the time I saw you and heard your voice I knew to relax the shoulders."

"In fact, during the middle of the 5K we raced in late September I could hear your voice inside my head telling me to relax...especially during the first mile when you were still close by, & when I was approaching the turn-around on the course & could see you."

Sometimes it's the training, the technique, or the modality that helps the runner to improve. Other times it's the coach - or knowing the coach is nearby. And watching.

All God's (Running) Children Got Shoes...

I got home the other evening from a five-day trip to San Francisco, where I had the pleasure of accompanying my wife on one of her telecommunications conference/business jaunts. I don't enjoy business travel, but I can tolerate what can be best described as "pleasure" travel; trips where I don't have to do too much save for drink beer, drink coffee, eat, exercise, read, and sleep. Those trips are usually "earned" by participating in a small amount of "sherpa" activity, carrying back extra or excess "stuff" in my luggage which probably shouldn't have been brought (or bought!) by my loving wife in the first place.

So, I often bring clothing items I can readily jettison on the last morning of the trip, which usually includes a single pair of running shoes at the end of their effective life span. I decided to sacrifice my oldest pair of shoes on travel after seeing one too many shoeless indigents walking down Caroline Street in Key West, FL. To a homeless person, a beat-up pair of running shoes is better than no shoes at all. I try to clean the shoes a day or two before the end of trip and leave a note for the housekeeping staff. The act of perhaps helping another person in a world of hurt by giving them something as simple as a pair of old shoes also helps me try to not hurt myself by running in a pair of running shoes which is too old.

Every so often I get an athlete who complains of sore feet, ankles, shins, knees...sometimes even sore hips and low back. I immediately look to their shoes to see their condition, then ask the question most runners cannot answer: 'how long - in miles & months - have you had those shoes?" If a runner has pain & their shoes have less than 300 miles/six months then the root cause is either something biomechanical, something overuse, or they're in a pair of shoes which isn't right for their foot type. But it's more likely that the runner cannot tell me how many miles or how many months they have had that particular shoe...which usually means they've had the shoe too long.

Most shoes will last an average of 400 miles or eight months, whichever comes first; a ballpark figure which has wiggle room on either side based on the runner's weight, weather conditions, sweat rate & terrain choice. Runners (like me) who sweat a great deal & run in humid climates go through shoes at varying rates throughout the year; shoes purchased in October or November last a few miles/weeks longer than shoes purchased in March. Lighter, less-sweaty runners can almost figure out down to the week when they'll need a new pair. I keep track of the cumulative mileage for each pair of running shoes I have - I rotate between three pairs because I do sweat - on my training log spreadsheet. If I start feeling an ache in the foot or ankle I can look at the mileage & determine whether the cause is training volume/intensity or if it's time to look for a new pair of shoes.

There are several ways to tell whether a pair of shoes is near the end of their lifespan. The most humorous, & probably the most noxious, sign your shoes are dead is when they literally smell dead. I've taken a "truly dead" pair into a local running shoe store to get a replacement, & they begged me to leave the shoes outside at the curb in a biohazard baggie. But that's really the most extreme case of zombie shoe you should ever see. Personally, I hope you never go that long between shoe purchases.

The biomechanically-challenged runner will wear the outer sole rubber off at the places we used to wear out our old Converse Chuck Taylors, at the heels or the balls of their feet. I've seen some shoes with the outer sole under the big toe worn smooth. Typical runners, however, will have crushed mid-sole, where all that nice, white foamy EVA has serious crinkling along the sides of the shoe. You can also tell if the midsole is dying or dead by taking the sockliner (another term for the shoe's insoles) out & giving the EVA a push with your fingertip. If there's no give when you push or rebound when you release the midsole is probably dead.

Lastly, when the EVA looks & feels good and the outer sole looks like a champ, take a close look at the places along the shoe where the upper portion of the shoe joins with the sole. If there is a break between the shoe upper & the sole, the chances are high it's time to replace the shoe. Those are usually the most heart-rending replacement times for a guy like me, because I've just become happiest with the fit & feel of the shoe. But, regardless of whatever emotional attachment you might have with that old shoe, when it says "it's not you but them", it's time for them to leave. New sockliners (insoles) should only be placed into those old running shoes if you plan to use them for kick-arounds, gardening, or lawn-mowing. Or if you're one of those folks who likes your workplace footwear to say, "yes, I am a runner," or, "yes, I like to get paid to do things while wearing ugly running shoes."

But a job where you can get away with being paid while wearing ugly running shoes is a beautiful thing. Ask any coach.