Hell Freezes Over, Sort Of

"For the record, we never broke up; we just took a 14-year vacation..." - Glenn Frey, 1994

I've coached a small group of (as few as three to as many as a dozen) adult runners for six years, in the classic "stand on the side of the track" as well as the "in the pack" style.  Each style has its benefits and drawbacks; coaching revealed me at my best and my worst.  If an aspiring author were to write it without the benefit or hindrance of this blog it would most likely either look like a Charles Dickens ("best of times, worst of times") tale.  Maybe not.  More likely in the style of a Stephen King ("...heeeeere's Johnny!") screenplay.  As long as Jack Nicholson isn't playing me, I'm all right.

Coaching is stressful, especially if you feel the need to prove to athletes that the training will never get "boring," (news flash:  it will, get used to it...) or, worse yet, when a symbiotic relationship with a running emporium (''...you refer runners to me for training, I send them to you for shoes and gear...') transforms into "competition."  Add to the stress a pair of achilles tendons made cranky by too much hard training and not enough recovery, and life becomes a misery.

So, I took a bit of a holiday.  I retired.  I became a "gentleman" coach; a "quasi-guru" with a limited and non-paying clientele.  Not surprisingly, people "suddenly" become more interested in training when you're not available.  It's no different than the difference between when you're single and when you finally find that "soul mate;" every other person who otherwise would not have given you the time of day if your watch had stopped cold dead wants something to do with you.

Last weekend I decided, against my better judgment, to hang the shingle again.  I don't know why, other than perhaps the moon was full, the beer was cold, my tendons hadn't barked at me for a month, and the person who asked me seemed to be genuinely interested. 

This time, however, things will be different.  I have nothing to prove to anyone who shows up.  Except for the fact I can give them a good product at a reasonable price.  They will pay, I will coach, and they will work.  Seems simple enough to me.

Treadmills - We're Talking "Circus Animal Stressful"

One of my fellow running bloggers from the New Orleans area, Jenny, asked me this question:

"A friend and I were discussing road vs treadmill running and wondering why we can run at 6mph on road but on the treadmill run at 5.2mph and get tired much quicker? Have you ever done a blog on that phenomenon ? LOL :) I figured you would be the one who knew best."

When my friends Betsy and Aaron Boudreaux come visit and we go out for a run, I swear she can tell the slightest elevation variance on what I would consider a fairly flat road. I guess that's what happens when you live in a city which is laid out like a soup bowl. What I see as normal near-level terrain she notices as a rise in elevation.

Dr. Jack Daniels talks about the difference between TM and road in the most recent edition of "Running Formula." In fact, he has a series of charts which equate TM pace/elevation to road pace. From what I can tell, most of the possible reasons for this phenomenon all seem to boil down to variation, or the lack of it.

Pace - If you refer back to the comment by Jay Dicharry, PT, which I shamelessly ripped out of that "Running Times" video, It might have to do with the fact there's no pace variation to speak of when you use a TM. We might 'average' 6 on the road it might vary from 5.5 to 6.5.

Equipment - Some TMs are more accurate in their measure of a "mile" than others. If you take a wheel and measure the TM belt, then run it for a minute at 7.5mph, ideally, you should get APPROXIMATELY .125 miles.

Environment -It's harder to stay comfortable running indoors on a TM compared to running outside on your favorite pathway. While we can control (to a degree) the elements in which we run on a TM, especially if it's bitter cold, raining or freaking windy outside, but what we lose in nasty weather we also lose in that cooling airflow we experience in the great outdoors.

Add to that controlled environment the joy-killing factor of boredom. Even though some of the best-equipped gyms have televisions/DVD players/music, the unnatural act of running on a moving belt is mentally stressful. Think circus animal stressful. There's only so much a guy/gal can do to dissociate, so mental discomfort soon leads to physical discomfort.

Now that you've got me to thinking about a run, it might be a good idea for me to grab my stuff in the bag by my coffee pot here at work and get out on the chip trail before the weather turns nasty again.

Happy Christmas to all of you!

Night Is Drawing Nigh, 2008 Version

Well, it took a couple of days longer than I hoped. But I finally got my fruitcake. It might sound insane for a guy who values physical fitness, exercise, & prudent dietary choices to like...even long for...something as inherently unhealthy as a fruitcake. However, I'm the type of person who looks at the dietary information posted on the back of the package: 'Hm...if this fruitcake is four servings, and each serving is 400 calories, then I can have...' So, I justify my personal snacking habits as long as my total calories per day, less the number of calories I've burned (boiled?) in the workouts, is right around 2,000.
And my snacking goes in cycles, from good snacking to bad snacking. If I can limit myself to the once-monthly bag of gummi bears, things are fine. It's when I start jonesing after those apple pastries I find near the coffee section of convenience stores I find the chubbiness factor begin to rise.

Suzanne & I spent our Christmas holiday in the "traditional" Bowen manner; sleeping in (a challenge in itself, since the d-a-w-g awakens to the alarm on my running watch), taking a long morning walk, reading, drinking coffee, watching classic flicks on the toob or going to the movies (a doubleheader - Lawrence of Arabia and Marley & Me), and...a recent and new tradition...going out for Chinese.

I almost congratulated myself for getting through this year with a minimum of illness & beat-down, but the holiday @$$ kicking bug caught up with me not once, but twice. I ate something I had absolutely no reason to be scarfing out on at a holiday luau. Enough said. The bad news was it meant two (possibly three) days of no training. The good news was I didn't feel like eating too much outside of very simple foods; half a turkey sandwich here, a bowl of soup there, a couple of bagel chips...blah, blah, blah.

Back to work...not too much excitement around here at the end of the year. Probably will spend more effort blowing excess stuff out of my computer...probably something I should do to the one at home, too. It's amazing how much stuff we accumulate; with computers it's not only paper-based, but also digital. Could someone please slow down the madness?

My Motivation, and Some Questions

The Lower Half of (Tom Gilbert's) Six Boxes (Motivation, Skills, Training):
Doggone. The temperature went up two degrees in the space of time it took me to think about how I was going to start this piece (originally scribbled 19 July 2008). For those who need a more objective measure, that was approximately one minute, from 6:48 to 6:49 a.m. And yes, I'm feeling less than motivated to head out to the track this morning.
Wait a minute. Coach Mike, unmotivated?
It's not just the heat or the bugs that makes me think twice. I have no races planned for the next four months, so I'm doing a long (boring) cycle of base training; swimming two or three times a week, bicycling once a week, and running as often as weather and other conditions permit. When you don't have anything on the immediate horizon for which to prepare, the forecast of working out alone (especially when base or maintenance training) can make any athlete reconsider their workout.

Sure, there are times you need to suck it up and go out, regardless of what your friends are doing. But it's nice to know you are not the only one suffering through a workout. Sometimes that's the only saving grace; knowing there is someone else insane enough to get up earlier than the rest of the world, or get out and run a few thousand meters of repeats with you while the rest of the world is at a ball game or concert.
Yes, I know we all need to have a life outside of running (or swimming, or triathlon). So, I do appreciate the athletes I train who take time out of their week (or weekend) to slog along with me. The prospect of seeing them at the track (during the week) or at the seashell (mid-week or on the weekend) gives me one more good reason to get out and run.
ASK THE COACH:
Do you have any thoughts on stretching?
I think a lot about stretching (some of my thoughts are printable!), but I don't do much more than work on my achilles tendons. Some runners prefer to not stretch and never have, others do it religiously. If you're going to do it, I would recommend two things:
First, don't stretch unless your muscles are warm, following at least five minutes of activity. A cold muscle will not stretch, and is more likely to tighten up more if you try to stretch it cold.
Second, stretch gently and naturally, with slow, smooth movements. You can stretch without throwing your leg up on a countertop, bleacher bench or trash can. Stretches which keep your feet on the ground are better. Those 'throw-your-leg-on-the-bleacher' stretches are probably going to instigate the stretch reflex, and you'll end up with a muscle that's more tight than when you started.
For this weather, do you have any particular sport drink recommendations? For those of us on a tighter budget, does water work just as well keeping us hydrated?
Water works great for hydration. It has no calories and no evil after-effects, unless you're running for four hours and you run low on electrolytes, but that's another issue. If you're running for no more than an hour and you can stand the taste (or lack of taste), water will do well.
However, once you get beyond an hour of exercise, you need to think about replenishing carbohydrates and electrolytes. Depending on weight and intensity of activity, you'll need between 30 and 60 grams of carbohydrates each hour; that's 16 to 32 ounces of Gatorade (200-400kcal). If you drink Accelerade during that same activity it will take 18 to 36 ounces (150-360kcal) to replenish, and you also get 7-15 grams of protein with the deal.
My recent favorite sports drink is PowerBar Endurance Sun Tea formula; I picked up a canister at Running Wild after a friend’s recommendation. A 16-ounce serving contains 42 grams or carbohydrates (so 12-24 ounces per hour), plus 480 mg of sodium and 25mg of potassium, so I don't have to worry about electrolytes. On top of that, there's 25mg of caffeine and a very light flavor. It mixes well and doesn't leave any gunk in your bottles, either.

Suzanne doesn't like Gatorade or Accelerade at full strength, but she liked the taste of PowerBar Endurance at normal strength. If caffeine isn’t your cup of tea (pun intended), PowerBar Endurance also comes in Lemon-Lime and Fruit Punch.
The best thing you can do is find a drink that meets your needs and stick with it. I can justify spending a little more for a good sports drink when I know it will help me perform well in workouts and on race day.
We've been told to take it easy this summer until it gets a little cooler. How easy is easy, and come fall, how long does it take to recover our strength and get back into racing form?

Just like the workout regimen, easy is in the eye of the beholder. I can tell usually by change in form or footstrike when an athlete is fatigued. Your challenge is to know it for yourself and to be smart enough to back off or pull the plug.
Being in racing form is not a question of how long as much as a question of when. You cannot be at maximal fitness throughout the entire year. You can maintain base through the entire year by running long, aerobic mileage. But the question of racing form is a function of how developed your base is, what variety of speedwork (tempo runs, short specificity, long specificity) you've put in, and how gradual your buildup is intended to be. Longer, more gradual build-ups lead to higher and more extended peak periods of six to eight weeks. Shorter, steeper build-ups lead to lower and shorter peaks.
Ask yourself, 'What is my goal race?' 'How am I going to get there?' 'What am I going to do to make certain I am at my most ready?'

Swedish Speed Work By Any Other Name

In order to delay inevitable shagginess, as well as the revelation of way too many gray hairs, it was definitely high time to put myself back in the barber's chair. There was a time when I looked at a visit to the barber shop with much the same dread as a visit to the dentist. However, I'm losing my teeth (only a little) faster than my hair.

I did have once upon a time what could be best described as an educated mullet, simply because I was an educated person. I didn't have the Joe Dirt thing going, not quite that serious a mullet. In fact, I never considered it to be a mullet. To me it was simply long hair. It was my thumb in the eye of society to have enough hair to pull it back into a (small) pony tail, put on my white oxford dress shirt and tie, and step into the classroom. There are a couple of photos floating around of me that way.

However, my wife cannot bear the thought of the man of her life having long hair. She considers it unnatural. I've threatened to grow it down to my butt in order to spite everyone...but I do like the regular income. Everyone says there's no such thing as a dress code with the federal government, but just try to get a promotion without being able to wear business attire. I don't care how smart you are, no one will listen to your smart ideas if you're wearing a loud-a$$ Hawaiian shirt and ratty jeans. As of last week I'm ten years out from my pension; after that, however, all bets are off on the hair limit. Of course, I might not be able to grow it that long by then. I wouldn't call the last two workouts fartlek by any stretch of the imagination. If you were or are a music enthusiast, it was probably closer to 30 minutes of rock and roll, followed by 30 minutes of a funeral dirge/death metal mash-up. Not pretty, huh?
It always helps on those days when you are running alone to be mindful of the effort...yes, listen to your body (and not the music in your Oakley Thumps). The music initially was there for entertainment purposes, keeping ennui at bay. I won't use them when I'm running with someone else, because it's unkind to not carry on a conversation with them. Yes, I know we're usually not carrying on a conversation during the latter half of the run, but it's nice to know we could always back off and have one if we really wished. And there have been days we have done so.
Effort is a relative thing, especially when you're five minutes behind the rest of the group at the outset of the run...I knew that second potty break this morning was going to come back to haunt me. However, I consider it better to have been five minutes back and hurrying like mad to try and catch up than to go out with the group and have one eye constantly on the horizon looking (desperately!) for the porta-potty.

And believe me, I don't think the Swedes were thinking about porta-potties when the term fartlek was coined.

Enjoying The Journey

Athletic events, like life in general, are loaded with surprises. You save, you prepare, you get counsel and advice for every imaginable contingency, and boom shaka-laka (as my wife would say), something else pops up that you certainly did not expect. A water temperature that's much colder than you (or your wetsuit) can handle. A swim distance that's 200 yards longer, or rougher, than you initially suspected for the conditions. Shifting winds. One more flat tire than the number of tubes/inflator cartridges you are carrying.
I guess that's what makes sport - I used factors germane to triathlon, but running has it's own share of possible impossibles, such as floppy shoelaces, blisters, the severe need for a porta-john while the race is being contested, and so on, and so on - so much fun. You train, you plan your races, get your gear set up and tightened up to within an inch of its life...and life (for those of you who know John Lennon's music, I won't go further) happens.
I had my moment of 'oh, my God, if I am swimming like this, how in heaven's name will I get through a swim three times the distance in three weeks?' the other weekend. However, once I got on the bike and past the first 2500 yards of the ride - about the time it takes me to realize I'm back on terra firma (and as they might say in Boston, 'the more firma the less terra') - I begin to relax and know my body and my training wouldn't necessarily let me down.
Sure, I'm a terrible swimmer. But I found I was doing much better than many of my contemporaries in the wave. I was the one pointing out dangerous situations to the rescue swimmers as I breast-stroked by. I began, at that moment on the bike, to enjoy the journey I was taking.
It's something I didn't do last autumn as I trained for the marathon. I was so focused and fixated on that elusive goal of running in Boston in 2008 or 2009 I hadn't tapped into my own well (figuratively) to check whether my source was clear and sweet or brackish. Only in late November had I realized I was drinking from a poisoned well, so to speak. By that time it was beyond too late to fix the damage.
One of my athletes has finished two Ironman-distance triathlons and is presently training for a third. He's meticulous in his planning and his training. His employment, fortunately, allows him a great degree of flexibility in scheduling workouts. He's blessed with a wife who also is smart and athletic, so he has no lack of training partners. We talk on Friday evenings over beer and dinner, sometimes about travel, sometimes about sport, and sometimes we just talk. He reminded me, as I began to lay out my training plan for this spring, to enjoy the journey. It sounds like some sort of cop-out, especially to a guy who is used to picking up hardware at local and regional races if he's in physical and mental shape for racing. But when it comes to endurance events and multisport endurance events, if you're not an elite, the odds are very good you're going out to prove something to yourself. In the grand scheme of things, a 17-hour Ironman-distance triathlon experience is a droplet of spittle in the pool when compared to the nine months or more you'll spend training. Same thing for most marathon plans. An 18-week training build-up will probably total 800-1000 miles, all for a single-day's effort of 26.2.That is a lot of time for things to go right, or to go wrong. You can make it drudgery or fun. It's your choice. Odds are good the fun factor isn't going to adversely affect the outcome, so you might as well do what it takes to make the training fun. Don't judge the success or failure of the training necessarily by the outcome on race day, either. If you do that odds are plenty high you're going to be sorely disappointed.

But I bet if you look at some of the objective stuff on the way from the beginning of training to the race day, you're going to find you're tougher, stronger, faster, fitter, maybe even smarter about your body than you were before it all.

And being smarter about your own body will make you focus and appreciate what you can do more than focus on and kvetch about what you cannot.