The One Book

My wife, Suzanne, received an e-book reader for her most recent birthday. She naturally was pleased to have the new acquisition, graciously offered to let me load books on it, and use it at my convenience.


Ah, but that's the way she is.


She's downloaded a couple of business and marketing books and a few biographies from the Barnes and Noble site. She's able to tuck the reader in her carry-around bag, mark passages she likes, and have hundreds of books - all that information - in one little place.


I, on the other hand, like paper and binding and glue and thread. I am 'old school.' I like the heft of a good history text. It doesn't necessarily mean I'll carry it with me the entire semester but it will stay opened on my work desk until I've taken all the notes I need. It then fills up another bookshelf and makes people think I'm more of an intellectual than I truly am.


There is at least one book, however, I would love to have available everywhere I am but don't want to risk damaging my paperback copy.

If I were forced to buy (again!) only one book (either for downloading to an e-reader, or in paper form) it would have to be Daniels' Running Formula.


Dr. Jack Daniels has been described as "America's Greatest Running Coach." There are great athletes - including several Olympians - who have made a successful transition from athlete to coach. But the list comes few and far between. Not every gifted athlete makes a great coach. Sometimes the smart, physically-limited athlete knows how to tap into the head of their charges. That's what makes a great coach, in my humble opinion.

But where many coach-turned-authors seem to lack bonafides, Daniels brings both personal performance - two Olympic medals as part of the US team in the modern pentathlon (a combination of swimming, equestrian, pistol shooting, fencing and cross-country running), academic credentials - a Ph.D. in exercise physiology, and outcomes - team and individual national championships, and All-American distinctions in cross-country - to the table.


If a self-coached runner is willing to take the time and effort to carefully read through Formula - don't be scared by the mathematical calculations for VDOT at the front end - they can put together a reasonable training plan based on several past race performances, as well as their goal event/s. I like to use the VDOT chart to divide my own training group into smaller ability groups based on a 5K or 10K time. The VDOT chart not only helps to predict performances at other distances (once the other variables are equalized), but provides insight to proper pacing efforts for long runs, threshold runs, and interval workouts. I like to borrow from the pace charts for my "longer repeat" workout day of the week: I might assign an early-to-mid-season workout to a runner with a VDOT score of 38, (a 3:29 marathoner), of 6-to-8 400-meter repeats at "threshold" pace...which is 1:51 for a 400, or a 7:25 mile, with a minute recovery.

Daniels provides plans for runners who are focused on short track racing (800 to 1500 meters), as well as the 5k, 10k, half-marathon and full marathon. Naturally, the plans can be adapted to fit the schedule of the (often) time-constrained runner; don't have enough time to run all those 'easy' paced runs? Schedule the quality training efforts first, then fill in the remainder of the week with the easier efforts.

Regardless of whether you download a copy to an e-reader or you purchase a hard-copy for your library, Daniels' training and racing guidance is probably the next best thing to a coach's advice a runner can have at their fingertips.

One Thing Too Many

My dental hygienist read me the riot act last autumn after a lack of recovery, poor diet choices and disregard for sound advice had reinforced one another to wreak havoc on my mouth. After that visit, I started taking a low-dose antibiotic regimen and using an ultrasound-enabled toothbrush.

Months later, I could tell the difference in my dental health; not only were my teeth clean, but I wasn't beating the daylights out of my gumline with a regular brush.

Like all other good things electronic which I use, something decided to go horribly wrong with this piece of equipment. It occurred right about the time I changed brush heads a week ago. I screwed in the new head and hit the switch to start brushing. Instead of the pleasant buzz and vibration of brush against my jaw there was NOTHING. I pulled the brush out of my mouth and stared in disbelief. It was troubleshooting time.

I slowly unscrewed the brush head, which began the buzz and vibration. However, the cap was too loose and would not stay in position. I shut the brush off and grabbed the "old-fashioned" brush to take care of business, thinking a new set of brush heads might solve the problem. Naturally I was disappointed at the thought of spending twice to replace something I thought I got right the first time.

Later that afternoon I took a closer look at the new brush head. When I unscrewed the head from the handle to look at the inner workings...EUREKA! Somehow the (magnetic) contact at the base of the brush head had attracted a small metal washer - how, I will never know - which not only affected the contact between the power source and the brush head, but also kept the brush head from vibrating when the cap was secured.

Quite simply, a little extra something was the cause of my problem.

My wife often plays with new devices and software as part of her job. I usually get to apply the "savant factor," testing whether a guy can learn to use an application by trial-and-error. What always seems to drive me up the wall is how manufacturers add one too many capabilities to a device. It's like adding a mustache on the Mona Lisa, or an extra quatrain to Rudyard Kipling's "If."

Just like there are Swiss Army Knife models which go "one toke over the line," too many good things can quickly transform a gadget from something that does two or three things in an outstanding manner into something which does a whole lot of stuff "half-fast," or something which sounds like "half-fast." Smart phones are a great example of this tipping point. Search and rescue professionals were recently asked about rescuing stranded and unprepared hikers; several of them mentioned the fact hikers tried without success to use smart phone-based GPS(-like) and compass(-like) applications to maintain their bearings.

Does this relate to training plans? You bet, and on many fronts.

Coaches often write plans in isolation. If the individual athlete understands the role of the coach as guide and teacher, they can talk about the potential barriers and obstacles to accomplishing the plan. As John L. Parker, Jr. wrote (about interval workouts) in his classic novel, "Once A Runner:"

"It was one thing to write '20 x 400 meters in 70 seconds with 400

meters recovery jog,' and another thing altogether to run them."

Intensity - too much, usually - can derail the best of training cycles. So can duration/distance workouts, the "need" to run a particular (usually favored!) workout or a race when the body or the calendar (and sometimes even the coach!) advises otherwise.

More often than not, it's one thing too many, rather than one thing too few, which screws up training.

Dry Case: You CAN Take It With You, With A Little Work...

Through hard trial-and-error I've learned the painfully obvious truth; electronics and elements, like Kipling's east and west, are best meant to be kept separate. When the two meet it can only mean less-than-happy outcomes for the electronics. I've seen more than my share of "OMG, just dropped/lost my 'Crackberry' out on the bay" Facebook status messages than I can count. Sometimes you feel bad for the victim. Other times there's a little bit of that schadenfreude, that little bit of joy over someone else's discomfort. Nevertheless, you kind of wonder why they would be so foolish as to take something out on the water with them without some sort of floatation or protection from the potentially damaging elements. Do we really HAVE to take it with us all of the time?

My wife's entire life is tied into the efficient operation of her laptop computer and its programs. So she was in a veritable panic a couple of mornings ago when I called from my office to chat about an upcoming business trip and the requisite dog care: We adopted an 85-pound retired racing greyhound not long after we got married; we've been able, and at times adamant with our employers, that our business travels not overlap. So far, it's been all of one week in seven years of marriage and dog-parenthood where we've both been away from home.

Rubin, our hound, is the equivalent of a three-year-old child...on steroids. He clearly refuses to realize his own strength. Suzanne, my wife, had spent several hours that morning working on podcast interviews in her home office. The door was not completely secured; Rubin finally decided "mom" had worked enough and it was time for him to go for a walk around the park across the street. He burst in to the room, knocking Suzanne's cup of coffee all over the keyboard and trackpad. Alas, he didn't get to go for his walk then, as my wife then had to go into emergency dry mode.

She's also had the electronic key to her company's Mercedes-Benz short out, triggering the alarm system in the parking lot where one of our local run groups congregated after a Sunday afternoon trot around one of the residential neighborhoods. The story of the "demon-possessed" Mercedes-Benz is still talked about to this day. Rubin wasn't to blame for that catastrophe, however. Blame that one on my highly-active sweat glands, which happen to be the marvel of coaches, friends and relatives. I've tried to use plastic zipper food storage bags and neoprene pouches to try and separate my sweat from things I prefer to keep (relatively) dry; most have worked with varying degrees of success, some with very little. It's forced me to learn to exercise without the benefit (or drawback, depending on your point of view) of electronics. I learn that electronics will die sooner or later when I use them...usually sooner.

So I have to admit I was excited and a little skeptical when my wife told me about a bunch of products she encountered made by Dry Corp, a company based out of Wilmington, NC. Dry Corp's DryCASE products let tech users take their gadgets - cell phones, MP3 players, tablet computers - out into the elements with little or no fear of water damage. I have had the privilege to road-test a few technology products in the past, and I usually get first crack at new gadgetry which lands at our front door. It's not that I'm tech-smart as much as I'm tech-savant; if I can figure out most of the basic functions on a piece of equipment it meets the definition of "user-friendly interface."

I've seen less-technical versions of products like the DryCASE, (which isn't a true case like a hard-shell one but we'll overlook those semantical differences) in the past; a pair of board shorts I purchased for my wife in Hawaii had a heavy-duty plastic zip-seal bag for money, identification or cell phone carriage. What makes DryCASE different is the ability to actually use your technology while it's vacuum sealed in plastic, with or without the DryBUDS.

The DryCASE comes in two sizes; the largest ($59.99) is intended for tablet devices. The small case I tested ($39.99) is about 4.6" x 8.5" and made of thick plastic, and contains a sealed-in 9" long 1/4" headphone jack. My HTC Hero smartphone fit comfortably within the DryCASE, as did my 32GB iPod Touch. The small DryCASE can be used for non-tech, but nice-to-keep-dry-and-available stuff, like identification, drivers' license, folding money, and credit cards, also. The top of the case is fitted with what at first appears to be a potato chip clip on steroids, but really is a very-strong dual twist knob latch. Once opened you can slide your desired "keep dry" stuff or technology into the case, and plug in the 1/4" jack, if you plan to use headphones.

The (top) seal takes a minute or two to figure out, but there's no doubt once you have the latches secured the odds of anything coming through the top is slim. But the seal on the DryCASE blows ordinary plastic baggies away by a long shot; a vacuum is achieved by one to two pumps of a one-way valve and bulb. DryCASE recommends waiting ten minutes after pumping to guarantee the seal will hold, but I cannot see most average users waiting that long.

The DryBUDS ($29.99) are adjustable by ear canal size (x3), and have a cord length of over 40"; probably too much cord for most runners, cyclists and definitely for swimmers. I guess if you were to wind the excess cordage up in the supplied (and very-comfortably-padded) neoprene armband you could control the chance of getting hung up in slack cord. Of course there's a bit of a technical mismatch; the buds are good down to ten feet under water, where the case is good to one hundred. But not many of us are going down to a hundred feet any time soon, I bet.

I tried the set/seal/use process the tirst time with my HTC Hero plugged into the phone jack. The vacuum seal pulls the plastic right down onto the touch screen, so nearly all of the "finger slide" functions of the typical smartphone user interface can be used, except for the trackball. In the case of my phone, especially, the trackball was engaged. Not so good. But I could turn and off my phone and answer a call if absolutely necessary.

About 30 minutes later I decided to give the DryCASE a live run, and take my iPod Touch to the gym. I didn't want to use the armband until I was comfortable with the screen functions. Besides I was planning on an elliptical trainer workout. The touch screen functions were perfect, but because I didn't pay attention to where the sealed 1/4" jack cord was in the case, it was difficult, actually, it was impossible to use the side "rocker" volume, as well as the on/off switch. Blame this on lack of attention on my part.

Rather than use the buds, I used my own music player headphones (a pair which allow ambient surrounding sound to be heard as well as the music). I've worn "sealed" waterproof bud phones in the past; they're comfortable and great for keeping outside noises at bay (especially for airline travel) but when I'm doing a workout, a run, or going for a walk I want to know what's going on around me as well as listen to my tunes. The buds are probably good for water skiiers or personal watercraft users, but I'll neither recommend nor condemn, as I don't know what the law says about being on the water with music blocking out other sounds.

The next morning, I took the case for a run workout at the gym. Again, I used my 32GB iPod Touch with the armband strap, which slides through a sleeve on the back side of the DryCASE. You definitely want to insert the band before sealing the player or phone; I'm not certain you'd want to try, or even be able, to insert the strap afterward. I set up the case with the 1/4" headphone jack at the top and the entrance "clip" at the bottom. I wanted to limit the amount of loose cord by keeping the jack on top near my shoulder.

Here's where things became interesting: The case width may be an issue for only the smallest-limbed user, but the case length is definitely too large in length for smaller users or persons whose span from the elbow to shoulder joint is 8.5" or less. The vacuum seal did its job of joining both sides of case to each other, but if you don't wear the "clip" side at shoulder height, the odds are very good it will flap and bang against your elbow joint, leaving a nice little (in my case, a quarter-sized bruise) reminder of my inattention to detail after a 60-minute treadmill workout.

Positives about the DryCASE? Well, the latch is not going to open on its own. The air valve is designed only for removal, so even if the cap is bumped loose the seal is going to remain intact. The armband for the DryCASE is very adjustable, padded and very comfortable neoprene. It's probably one of the most comfortable straps I've worked with. For me to even give a positive mention of an arm strap is saying something, because I prefer to wear my techie stuff on a belt around my waist. There is a low-profile waist belt ($19.99), a one-size-fits-(nearly)-everybody version of the armband. The only problem would be, then, that the DryCASE's size and clip layout would be transferred farther "south" on my body. Dry Corp may want to consider an additional sleeve/strap rotated 90-degrees for those users who like their electronic devices parallel to the ground.

Best of all, and probably the most importantly, the DryCASE does what it's intended to do. It keeps electronics (or whatever you want to place within the case) dry. Even during a 60-minute treadmill run, with the case tucked and strapped between a wicking technical shirt and my arm, there was absolutely no evidence of sweat infiltration. None. I've never been able to say that about any bag, carrier or barrier device.

There are some negatives, mainly having to do with the DryCASE size and the challenge of finding what works least painfully for the individual user. And, compared to other carriers, the DryCASE is a little on the bulky and heavy side. But I'm looking at this from a weight perspective, as well as comfort and tech-friendliness. I guess you could get used to the extra weight over time, especially if it was at the waist rather than the upper arm. As a running coach I can tell the runners who train with music players strapped to their arm; they have this "buffalo wing" look to their arm carriage...very stiff and tucked up close, like they're afraid it's going to fly away.

Also, the DryCASE might protect from moisture, dirt or sand, but it's no protection from shock or impact. And, should you decide to remove your gadget from the DryCASE there is no way to reseal without the vacuum bulb.

I could only imagine that if the power/USB jacks were also added to the DryCASE, you probably would never have to take the technology out of the sleeve. If you want a way to keep your technology clean and dry in all environments without worrying about spills, splashes, or loss (with the neoprene strap attached the DryCASE is buoyant), the DryCASE is probably one of the most effective methods to seal it, plug it, and enjoy it no matter where you are...

...and be able to take it home at the end of the day.

More information on DryCASE products, as well as an on-line store and retail information, can be found at http://www.drycase.com, or you can call DryCASE at (888)6000-DRY.

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.

Questions Of Our Age

I'm not quite certain whether I'd freak out over that particular observation. I guess I'd be more jealous over the fact some people have jobs that permit them to sit around a Starbucks' (or any other coffee shop) on 11 in the morning on a Monday. Obviously, some of them are spooling up for an afternoon/evening of work...something I used to do. But there have to be some people with little more to do (I was going to say better, but who am I to judge?) than caffeinate themselves into oblivion, read all 15 volumes of Will and Ariel Durant's Story of Civilization, and ponder their navel.

Where do I get a job like that?
Even the moments when I feel inspired to bore people to death with passages of nothingness I think about how bad it would have to be to be a professional writer. There was a terribly funny cartoon drawn by Shannon Wheeler, which I think I referenced a little over a year ago; in essence, it said Anything You Get Paid To Do S*cks. Sometimes there's no music, no art, no television programming, and no life experience that will provide sufficient inspiration for a writer's blathering.

Here's a good question: Why do electronic devices which can last for years in the hands of other runners of equivalent fitness (and equivalent sweat-producing properties) die on me in the space of a year (if I'm fortunate)? It's not like I go out in the pouring rain with them, or leave them in direct sunlight, dusty conditions, near angry (or incontinent) canines/felines/ovines/bovines, whack them against walls or more-resilient structures, etc. These little boogers will last their warranty, then BRZZAAAP! They croak on me. I complained about this before when my last MP3 player went toes (or in this case, case) up. Perhaps I need to stop buying electronic cr*p from eBay. After my Nike Triax SDM went kaput the other weekend, I decided it was time to go back to what Chuckie V(eylupek) called caveman running. No heart rate, save for fingers on carotid pulsation. No distance measurement, save for Gmap Pedometer or MapMyTri. Go back to running by feel. Yes. That's it, young Skywalker. Trust your feelings, you know I am your father.

Of course, the positives of this decision are that I spend less time dumping cr*p into Excel spreadsheet files on my computer. The negatives are that I have less hard data to look back upon when I overtrain myself into that old iliotibial band stress/achilles' tendonitis situation again.
Maybe if I trust the physiological data, including the way I feel in the morning, I might not work myself into a stiff-legged shuffle five or six days a week...or have the deep, unrelenting need for more sleep...or the irrational desire for junk foods I haven't snacked upon since last spring. Then I won't ask myself that other question of the age: How the #@*% did I gain all that weight!?

Give Me That Old Time Technology

I don't consider myself to be a Luddite (for those of you who aren't familiar with that term, go here) in the purest sense. My recent KW trip had moments where I would have resorted to Luddite tactics, though. Fortunately for the woman in the commuter jet blathering on her cell phone, the flight attendant moved us up about eight rows and out of the sound of her voice. Otherwise, I think I would have said something very unkind and caused a boatload of hassle.

Why is it that electronic devices like DVD players, computers, MP3 players are limited to the individual user (ideally, although there was someone using a device on this trip without...to my amazement) and cellular telephones have to be public? I don't want to know your personal business, and if you are doing your personal business, I don't want to hear you AT OVERFULL VOLUME. I doubt the rest of the passengers nearby want to, either. It's enough to make you do bad things.

The roots of my technophobia, I think, are the result of not following what some tech-geeks would call digital agnosticism. I would love to have a Suunto or Polar heart rate monitor without having to have a Wintel platform. Don't tell me I can have it both ways by getting a dual platform Macintosh or installing software that allows me to run Windows (which, BTW, I do have). It's the same reason I loathe Google Video, YouTube, and sites that have embedded video/audio players, such as Versus, Inside Triathlon, and Triathlon.org (ITU's web site). I have perfectly good software (OEM, or legally downloaded, or purchased from Apple) that plays and edits v/a; which I use for my own purposes. Give me the material and let me watch it in the manner I wish. Half the fun is being able to manipulate, cut stuff out and make my own viewing experience that much more enjoyable.

My complaint isn't limited to just Wintel/PC, either. Apple is just as guilty at the anti-democratization of technology: Build a phone that does everything but bring you a beer and do your laundry, but limit it to a single service provider/network. Oh, and let's make the d@mned thing so friggin' expensive that only the well-off and the kids with a butt-ton of disposable income (or stupid parents) who want to make that I have the latest and greatest gadget statement will afford it. Hey, I'd love to have a cell phone that holds my music, too. Perfect for those training runs or rides where I might be in BFE; one less item to carry.

However, I will not be bludgeoned into moving all my phone service from the provider I'm with just to get an iPhone. I'll gladly wait until a) the price plummets, and b) the number of service providers expands so I truly have a choice.

High-tech, realistic video games, TiVo, movies on demand...what would my grandparents think if they were alive today? As it is, I'm frighteningly close to the point where the technological advances are outstripping my ability to adapt and keep up, personal finances (read: frugality and willingness to live in obsolescence) notwithstanding.