Long Run + "Comatose State" = Too Long

My friend Betsy, Suzanne, and I were talking over Monday early morning coffee about time-constrained training, training partnerships and - not surprisingly - the role of the long run in marathon training.

Suzanne marveled that a group of people would meet each weekend at 5:20 in the morning to train.  Naturally, we understand that during certain times of the year - like months which don't have an "R" somewhere in them - early morning training runs are not just a good idea, but sane behavior.  She also liked the fact that the group would take time to socialize over breakfast something we've encouraged with our training partners.

Betsy mentioned that 5:20 was the latest the group left in the morning; a runner doing a longer effort would start their run as early as 3:00.  In the case of runners who want to finish and have breakfast with the rest of the group, doing two hours or less, it makes perfect sense.  

However, a four-hour marathon training jaunt only benefits mentally.  To do at least one four-hour (or longer) run in the preparation for 26.2(1876) miles - the four-hour run can help the runner to get their head around the thought of running four-to-five hours at a stretch - is one thing.  Otherwise, especially in the physiological sense, the recreational runner who does more than one four-hour training run when prepping for the marathon has got to be mental.

There's a point of diminishing returns - physiologically, emotionally and socially - once the run goes beyond two-and-a-half-hours.  It's more difficult to recover, and even do a run the following day, when more than 150 minutes of good running has been "deposited in the bank."  And 150 minutes at a stretch is the (recommended) 25-percent long run portion of the maximum sane week (10 hours) of training.  There are highly esteemed coaches (of Olympic marathoners) who would rather have their athletes spread the training volume across the week rather than do 50-60% of it in one long slog.

Frankly, all I wanted to do after 16-mile training runs (in a sliver over two hours) was take a long hot shower, pull on compression tights and sweats, put my legs up on the couch and watch football all afternoon.  Unless you have a VERY understanding spouse, kids or significant other, the prospect of a (beyond-healthy) chunk of YOUR Saturday (or Sunday) morning out spent on the roads doing 18, 20, or 22 miles in close to four hours, followed by "Occupy the Couch" means a large portion of THEIR weekend is pretty much shot to hell.

If you absolutely have to do the 18-to-22 mile run more than one time in the marathon preparation, schedule it so it comes before a "cut-back" week, where the mileage, time or intensity (or all of the above) is intentionally decreased to let the body (and mind) recover.

A physiologically or emotionally-viable alternative for the runner who feels the compulsion to do the "really long run" part of marathon training more than one time can include the option of splitting it into two.

There are several ways the "typical" weekend can be broken up:

1 - Run the first two-and-a-half hours on Friday afternoon, then do the remaining miles on Saturday morning.  Sunday morning can either be a rest day, Saturday's run, or a run of 30-to-60 minutes focusing on form and turnover.

2 - Run the first two-and-a-half hours on Saturday morning, with the remaining miles late Saturday afternoon.  Sunday morning can either be a rest day or a shorter run of 30-to-60 minutes focusing on form and turnover.
3 - Run the first two-and-a-half hours on Saturday evening, with the remaining miles early Sunday morning.  Then do a very short run run of 30 minutes focusing on form and turnover that afternoon.

I don't like the idea of splitting the long run between Sunday morning and Sunday afternoon.  There's always something to do with loved ones; taking any more time than what is absolutely necessary away from family is not a decision which will make for successful running.

There are varying schools of thought about what needs to be the maximum long run distance for marathon training.  The 30-kilometer recommendation of European coaches and the 20-mile number bandied about by coaches here in the States are nice round "one-size-fits-somebody" numbers.  The best maximum distance for marathon training is the one which does not go too far beyond the physiological tipping point, one which allows the runner to get up and do a little something the following day, or at least do a little something with family that day.

Bad Workout? It's All In Our Mind

The latest books I've read have not been without their own degree of controversy. Much like the reading (running) public stepped to one side or the other of the line drawn in the sand over barefoot running and Christopher McDougall's "Born To Run," they seem to stand on the same kind of dividing line over Matt Fitzgerald's newest work, "Iron War: Dave Scott, Mark Allen, and the Greatest Race Ever Run."

Sometimes you have to look at the subtitle a little more closely. While Fitzgerald writes, with the assistance of two decades worth of research materials, about Scott and Allen, it's...well, it's not all about them. Iron War also tries to explain what made them different in 1989, and what makes endurance enthusiasts different now.

Yes, there are biographical pieces on Scott and Allen (which for this writer drew a parallel to other freakishly-good athletes like Michael Phelps and Lance Armstrong), but Fitzgerald looks at the sport of triathlon and the type of person drawn into it, especially the ultra-distance multisport events which were born of a bar room argument after the Honolulu Marathon thirty-plus years ago. He asks not only what drives the elite endurance athlete, but also what keeps their foot on the accelerator when the vast majority of us are begging to mash the brake pedal?

Or, as I began to think, why is it we tend to have crappy workouts when we are rushed for time; when we shoehorn in that speed workout in between the morning budget meeting and the afternoon conference call? Samuele Marcora says it might be more in our mind than we care to admit.

Marcora believes fatigue is more a perception of our mind than a physiological state. Watch runners break into a sprint for the last 200-to-300 yards of a race when they looked like they could not run another step just a half mile before. Timothy Noakes' central governor model of exercise performance says the brain makes a conscious effort to limit energy expenditure in order to save fuel for the heart, brain and lungs. But Marcora says the anterior cingulate cortex in the brain, the area responsible for control of our heart rate, breathing, autonomic responses, and conflict resolution, is the "boxing ring" for the struggle between the part of us that wants to quit and the side that wants to keep going.

Why do we feel physically fatigued after a sustained period of sedentary office work, like reconciling a budget spreadsheet (or sitting in a foreign language class)? The anterior cingulate cortex is engaged when we engage in an activity - even mental - which involves sustained attention to detail.

That might be another reason folks hate treadmill running so much. All that data - time, pace, distance, heart rate, calories and the like - is displayed before the runner. We start to do the mental gymnastics of how much longer before the end of the treadmill program, etc., and the little voice in the head begins to remind us of all the other things we need to get done...right away.

Even those runs which get shoehorned in between the rush-hour drive time and the drive to the youth soccer match can be affected by the other "noise" in our heads. The mental to-do list makes us more tired on our run, which makes us get down more on ourself because we're not running as well as we would like.

Sometimes it just pays to know "when we're training well we're probably not training well." It's not the "mark-a-star-on-the-training-calendar" runs which do us the most benefit...it's the ones where we want to beat ourselves up mentally which make us stronger.

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

Miles To Go Before I Sleep

"Sleep: A poor substitute for caffeine." - Author Unknown

Very short topic today. Not that I didn't have longer topics I could approach, but this one was definitely good. My morning ritual used to include getting out of bed at five o'clock sharp & going to either the gym or the pool before work. But I consider myself fortunate this time of the year, in light of my goal event choices. Since I'm training for a late-winter marathon (Rock n' Roll/Mardi Gras), I only need seven-to-nine hours a week in training. Those extra three-to-five hours I spent at the pool or the gym are - at this moment - spent on activities many (including my wife) consider an underrated guilty pleasure. I'll go briefly cryptic here: Think of Robert Frost's most memorable quatrain. If the only Frost you can recall is the poem "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening," you're halfway there.

For those who don't remember: "The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. But I have promises to keep. And miles to go..."

Sleep is definitely a guilty pleasure around the Bowen house. If I were smarter, I would schedule every weekend workout for high noon & unplug the alarm clock (my greyhound sleeps until he hears an alarm or figures it's past breakfast time). Ah, but then half of the day would be shot. When I wrote about recovery a couple of months back I realized I left sleep out of the equation. Not only is good sleep necessary for mental health, but also for physical recovery. Poor sleep or not enough sleep is not only a sign an athlete may be overtraining, but it can also reinforce overtraining's damaging effects.

How important is good sleep? I've done some foolish things in the past: Come home after a tough day at work & make a beeline straight for the refrigerator. Pull out a 12-ounce bottle of Milwaukee-(or Atlanta, or Abita Springs) brewed goodness. Twist or pry off the cap & take a nice, healthy swig. Breathe sigh of relief. Finish remainder of bottle while watching SportsCenter. Dress for track workout. Run crummy workout.

Going without sleep can whack you cognitively as well as physically. A 1997 study found the cognitive defect from 17 (or more) hours of wakefulness equaled the performance deficit of a person with a blood-alcohol concentration of .1 percent. That used to be the legal limit in many states, I think. Depriving yourself of sleep - even for one day - can change your mood, mess with your immune system, eat at the lean muscle mass you want to keep, & cause you to be more adversely affected by heat & cold conditions.

If you have ever felt like going postal in your workplace, don't be too surprised, but one of the symptoms of workplace burnout had to do with getting ineffective sleep, the type which did not lead to relief from fatigue. Contrary to what Neil Young has sung, it is not better to burn out, friends.

Make yourself a promise - get your miles in, but make certain to get your sleep. Frost - and his neighbor - and the horse you traveled in on - would tell you it was a good idea.

Time For A Few Small Repairs

"...days go by, I'm hypnotized, I'm walking on a wire; I close my eyes & fly out of my mind..." - "Sunny Came Home" (Shawn Colvin, 1996)

The thought didn't cross my mind until my last dental appointment. The dental hygienist who works on my mouth has done so for the past two and-a-half-years. She knows a great deal about me, seen me come in with my shoulder & arm in a sling, limping, or tired after a race. She knows me well, & the sudden decline in my dental health told her things she did not like.

"There are a couple of bad spots back there, & it's starting to look like it was during one of your first visits." She gently tapped on a couple of my molars and asked, "have you had any pain in these areas?"

I told her there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but that my sinuses had been acting up all summer; it seemed like every time I hit the pool for a workout I'd end up hacking for two to three days. She didn't say much but provided a topical treatment to the area, scheduled me for a follow-up visit in two weeks, & suggested a few small changes to my care plan: Hydration, mouth rinsing, a different toothbrush, to name a few.

But, as always, that was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Waking up to a mild case of otitis externa (swelling of the ear canal) - or "swimmer's ear" - on a Monday morning three weeks after the dentist's visit made me think about whether the problems I had with sleep (bed at nine, up at five, back to bed until seven...), diet (why won't this weight come off!?), infections, & motivation (in all areas, not just athletics) this summer was more than being sick, more than being tired, but perhaps overtraining. Perhaps it was closer to overreaching back in the spring, as I approached 70.3 NOLA. But even at that point, a week out from the event, I could sense something was very wrong. I'm not a strong swimmer, & the thought of getting back in the open water after a disastrous day last November in Panama City - triggered by a discussion about swim courses at a race director training course - took me to a state of sheer, physical panic. Thank heavens for the "no-swim" choice on the day, a (very thin) silver lining to the black cloud of trying to get through a very warm day - including an open water swim - under your own power.

The following week was a road trip down into central Florida for the Road Runners Club of America convention. I felt pretty good for a couple of morning runs; nothing stellar, but good...good being defined as state of fitness a week after bicycling and running 69 miles. A swim at a local pool showed the fatigue was still there, though. And then, reality set in after the second mile of a 10K on Saturday. I was reduced to alternating walking & running sections, in the same manner I got through the 70.3 run course. After finishing in a time which was nearly a minute slower than my average performance, I knew it was time to take some time away. A month of easy workouts on the elliptical trainer & swims in the pool were good, but the aches & pains I had getting up every morning were disconcerting. Feeling like a person who is much older & much slower than you prefer to be is not fun. So, Vicki's concern about my dental health, added to the state of mental health - burned out - were possibly little more than manifestations of a greater problem of overreaching or overtraining.

As I've started looking at the training plan for Rock n' Roll/Mardi Gras 2011, the mantra less is more is making sense. I guess at 48 we take a little bit longer to recover from our indiscretions than at 28. Ibuprofen is no substitute for the occasional rest day. And there's no nutritional supplement that can help you perform when your mind just isn't into it.So far things seem to be going well. An extra day of rest, & listening to the need of my body to do only the amount of training necessary for the next event (why train for 14 hours a week if you're 9 weeks out from a half-marathon?) has felt wonderful, both during the two-or-three cross-training sessions I'm doing each week, as well as the workouts. I'm not eating ibuprofen like candy, either.

Every so often, like Shawn Colvin's "Sunny," we have to sit down, take a hard look at what we're doing to ourselves, & make a few small repairs.

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.

Recovery Run? No Such Thing.

Yeah. I thought it might be a nice thing to do an "easy peasy," relatively-flat, straight, out-and-back six-miler last night (when I was typing the status this morning on FB I inadvertently missed the "I" and typed a "U". What Would Freud Say?), but my knees gave me a completely different message. I ended up spit-canning the run after a couple of miles and made a command decision to walk the two miles back to the house...which Suzanne enjoyed, also.

There were a lot of factors which I could lay blame on for the bad day, but it stood to reason I should not have tried to do six miles on a warm, humid day after doing three workouts in the preceeding thirty hours. Hm...ever think of the concept of, uh, recovery, coach? Then, I read Pat McCrann's advice and think...'perhaps a walk would have better served me at this point in the game.' So, here's what he has to say, part 16 of 30 from Marathon Nation.As I mentioned in an earlier tip, run recovery needs to be one of your highest priorities. Our sport is an endorphin-filled journey of fun...until something goes wrong. And as the veteran runners/readers will tell you, it's only a matter of time until something happens to you (sorry!). Left to their own devices, however, the running-addicted runner usually comes up with the most suspect of recovery protocols...the recovery run. Only in the world of running would this make sense...if you are tired/beat up/run down from all that...running, there can be only one solution: a short, easy run. Clearly, the majority of us runners are seriously lacking creativity here, so Coach P is going to have to crack the whip...

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A RECOVERY RUN. Period.Think about it from the perspective of your body for a second. Your legs and back and feet have conspired with your heart and constitution to send a message to your brain that you need a break. Your brain gets that info and settles on this "recovery run" strategy. Sounds good to the brain but man aren't your calves surprised to find they are running again! Didn't your brain get the memo???

My point here is that while your brain knows the nuances of "types" of runs, your body only really speaks in very short sentences. In this case: ON (Running) or OFF (Not Running). In order to really demonstrate that you get what your body is saying, you need to physically not run. That's right...Take a real, bonafide day off. Sleep in. Do a project around the house. Stay late at work (or go in early). Find a new hobby. I care about you, but I don't really care about your days off...make them off.Believe it or not, you are probably addicted to running. On some level. And if not running then perhaps to the concept of an active lifestyle. Trying to force something that isn't working to work...never works. Running is no different. A lot of really unique things have to intersect for you to have a great run session...and sometimes the easiest way to get things to sync up is to stand down for a bit.

You will go crazy...most people do on a day off. But since you know you can't run today, then you have to fill that time. This leads to the importance of planning your day off. Most of us obsess over gear, food, route, etc, for our workouts....but then have zero planned for our down time.Make this time off easier for you by actually planning other activities. Whether it's chilling with the kids, doing chores, or heading out for some errands is up to you. But if you don't plan for it, it won't happen.

At the end of the day, the best type of recovery run is...not running. Do your mind and body a favor and take the day off. A tiny, well-placed break now can really help you over the long haul!

The End Of Sports Fashion As We Know It

I'm certain there are people who will disagree with me, but in many cases, I believe more textile is not always a good thing. Take triathlon, for instance. The first triathletes competed in little more than a Speedo & an itty bitty singlet, with maybe a pair of high-cut running shorts for the run leg of the event; this might have been because the first really good tri-geeks were swimmers or lifeguards. Then came the first compression wear, an offshoot of cycling shorts. These have been a blessing & a curse. It seems the compressive nylon lycra cycling shorts decreases the amount of muscle vibration on the run, thus decreasing the amount of fatigue & perhaps even thwarts the onset of muscle cramps in the later stages of the run.
But the next thing you know, there are athletes participating in triathlon in full tights, near-full tights, calf sleeves, arm warmers, & so on, & so on. My heavens, whatever happened to the travel light, travel fast dictum? Okay, so the compression wear is light, but it sure as hell doesn't seem all that fast to me. In many cases I'd worry like mad about the chance of heat stroke from all that coverage. I don't care about the fact Paula Radcliffe wears compression stockings when she races marathons; she looks like a dork, or whatever the female version of dork is. FloJo is dead, ladies (& gentlemen); get past it.

But, in much the same way I am with technical stuff - a semi-late adopter - I took the time to try & read some of the research on the benefits & drawbacks of using compression clothing; when, why, how long, & so on. Most of the researchers who have written for triathlon magazines say the jury is still out on the overall benefits, but believe there's a place for compression tops, tights, & stockings in the recovery from hard workout efforts. They don't see much benefit to racing in them, however.

Still, I am a (cheap) skeptic. I almost picked up some 2XU compression wear while at the IM 70.3 expo, but there was still the little bit of sticker shock; what if this stuff was all bupkus? When Sigvaris, an RRCA corporate sponsor, was looking for a population at the recent national convention who would be willing to try a pair of their athletic recovery socks, I figured this would be the perfect time to give stockings a shot. Sigvaris is in the medical compression wear field, but their latest stuff is a far cry from the TED hose or the Jobst stockings I encountered when working at the VA hospital.

First, the stockings I was given for the study are for athletic recovery. They went up to just below the knees & provided anywhere from 20-to-30 millimeters of pressure. But I have to admit the eight hours I spent in the stockings were a fairly comfortable experience. What's more, I didn't feel (too) beat up in the evening, or the next morning when I awakened after the evening's banquetizing & socializing. My right achilles tendon was a two-to-three on a one-to-ten scale of soreness, with ten being "shoot me now." But that's pretty much par for the course, especially the week after riding 56 miles, then running 13.1 miles in succession.

I wasn't looking for miracles from the Sigvaris stockings, so feeling good the next morning was definitely a positive outcome. My response to the use of the stockings seems to align with the referenced studies (Ali, Caine, & Snow, 2007; Engineering of Sport, 2009) on the Sigvaris website (http://www.athleticrecoverysock.com/medicalstudies.php). And naturally, you get what you pay for...as a thank you for participating in the study I'll receive another pair of stockings for personal use.

But don't expect to see me wearing them on the road during one of my long training runs. I'm not ready to become uber-geek. Or would that be uber-dork?

A Thought On Tapering

...or two. I guess this train of thought started last Wednesday evening during our "easy" 60-minute run on the beach. Quite frankly, it felt like a bit of a slog for a good portion of the run; just couldn't get comfortable. The heart rate wasn't going sky high...in fact, it seemed quite reasonable. Just a little bit of lead in the legs. When we got back to the start I had to admit I was glad we kind of went off the beaten path; heaven knows I'd have been tempted to slap it into B-for-boogie...and might have felt like ten pounds of used kitty litter afterward.
That kind of feeling has persisted for this past week, & almost two. I'm certain lots of it has to do with a subconscious effort to conserve energies for the day. But it's not like I'm really going into taper mode. Friends who know I'm (about) three weeks out from the Ironman have hinted, 'yeah, you should be starting your taper next week...' Trouble is, I am not certain what I'm supposed to be tapering from.
The bicycle crash, by necessity, forced me to back off about 30-percent of my intended training volume. I've had to limit my swimming to twice a week, & at an intensity which is just comfortable enough to not strain the trapezius, deltoid, or latissimus muscles on the left side...unfortunately, life has managed to make up for the lost efforts. If you've ever tried to get out of a Mercedes sedan on the passenger side, it requires a certain degree of assistance from the left arm to help roll you out. So, when I whine about wanting to drive it has as much to do with physical comfort as it does with personal autonomy.

I managed to do well through the long bike ride on the IM FL course, so there's little to worry about there. Even running, when the shoulder feels good & hasn't been over-stressed, is all right. The heart rate is good. And now, the weather has become almost nice. So it's not like I'm really going to cut back on volume that much...or intensity...not until next weekend.

At that point it's going to be little more than a single hour of a single activity. Spend a little more time with the feet up, with the coffee pot, with the good book, with the light jazz or baroque music. Definitely. I'll revert back to one of the things I said before...just kind of be like my greyhound: eat when I can, go out when I want, & rest otherwise.

So, I'm not really tapering as much as maintaining.

Georgia On My (Tri Suit) Back...

For the small number of people who really want to know how the coach fared on his training day in Augusta, GA this last weekend, here we go. I'll provide a brief commentary on the host city, the courses, my performance, some possible root causes/lessons learned and what I might try in order to not have a repeat on a grander (and I dare say, a more painful...) scale in five weeks.

Augusta - Venue
Augusta is definitely Old South, with dry town-style blue laws & that roll up the sidewalk, put out the cat at five o'clock feeling. If you're looking for a race venue in which to party during the days immediately before/afterward, this is definitely not the race to choose. However, if you can handle walking down a tree-lined main drag on a Saturday morning to a bakery for coffee, danish (there are only two Starbucks' in town; one's in the Marriott) & a quiet read of the local newspaper/USA Today, this is your kind of place. Even Monday morning traffic didn't come down Broad Street en masse until about nine o'clock, while we had breakfast at a breakfast joint which did open during the week. Yes, there are dining, drinking & clubbing establishments which open later, but don't expect a boatload of early morning joints nearby.

We stayed at the Ramada Inn, about six blocks from the headquarters hotel, three blocks from the swim start, & approximately 1.2 miles from the transition area. What it lacked in facility quality & neighborhood location - the freight train line, which awakened us at least four times nightly, reminded Suzanne & me of our first place - it made up by proximity to the run course just plain good-hearted attitude of the staff working there.

The courses were, in the opinion of this race guy, fairly good. I truly enjoyed the point-to-point swim in the Savannah River, as well as the rolling, often-tree-lined bike course in the vicinity of Jackson & Aiken, SC. The run course was, however, a mixed bag. If I had been the course designer, I probably would not have run the course over the train line four times each ten-kilometer loop. Yes, I'm being a whiny-butt, because I know what happens every time I try to run over a very uneven piece of pavement when I've been moving for the previous four hours. Can you say calf or leg cramps?

Swim - 1.2 miles - 35:00
Swimming in the 72-degree waters of the Savannah River was nice, even though the water was quite murky, with seagrass, sticks & the like. After the first couple of hundred yards I was forced to either do the side stroke or the breast stroke. If your shoulders aren't used to swimming, even a two-millimeter wetsuit (great for flotation when compared to no wetsuit) can pose difficulties. A couple of panicky moments here & there when I caught a little too much water, as well as the drat! I knew I should have used the tinted goggles moment when the sun finally burst through...all I could tell was I was going in the right direction - downstream - but seeing specific signs was another story altogether.

(Talk about a fun swim venue - you probably could have walked on the levee for the majority of the swim & watched your athlete do their thing.)

T1 - Unlike most other 70.3 events according to what I've been told, this event had wetsuit strippers at the transition area. Nice. The downside was the strippers were in the grass; by the time my wave (23rd of 25) arrived in T1 the nice grass had turned more into nice grass and mud. So, I ended up with a nice coating of Georgia grass/mud/dirt on the back side of my bright yellow tri-top. I know. Waah, waah, waah... I didn't know there was junk all over my back until the bike course, when some 40-44 woman I passed told me.

Contrary to my first triathlon efforts, my time in T1 was fairly short, probably about three minutes at the most. However, I did the same thing I've done in every other event. I broke my right little toe during my first triathlon trying to get into my cycling shoes...it's happened every time since then. When I told my wife later she freaked out. Hey, it's only a little toe. I have nine others.

Bicycle - 56 miles - 3:10
The first 20 kilometers of the bike leg went by quickly; I was probably at 30 km/hour (20 mph) average for it. The first climb on the course did not come until about the 18-mile mark, when I heard the first signs I did not want to hear; grinding noises from my chainring area as I started to pull my way up the hill. That's a certain sign I've got a chain issue, caused by a dry chain...not enough lube...exposed to rain the night before while in transition. Stupid! Should have taken my bottle of chain lube to transition & that extra half-hour of TLC; probably would have saved me a good ten minutes of ride. By the end of the bike leg I was limited to probably four gear combinations which did not make a lot of noise. The last 15 kilometers were the price paid for my folly, as I dropped my chain off the small chainring not once, but twice...the second time on the last incline leading back into Augusta.

When we looked at the course profile, the first reaction was one of shock & worry; there were some serious elevation changes on the course, a couple of hundred feet in difference, in three separate locations. Fortunately, the scale of the course profile was skewed in favor of showing all of the elevation...only three of the climbs were tougher than three percent in grade...and only one was tough enough to make me get up out of my saddle for the climb. Looked at my heart rate on the climbs &found I was expending no worse than 77 percent of maximum heart rate, which means I was probably at the high end of aerobic threshhold.

It was on the bike where the first signs of wheels falling off were noticeable, just after the 40 kilometer marker at the second of two U-turns on the course. I almost overcooked the first one about ten kilometers earlier, but managed to pull it back in. The second U-turn was snug enough to slow me down good. Pushing the pace to get back up to speed (into a steadily-increasing headwind) caused a beauty of a calf cramp, one of those cramps that you cannot pedal through & can barely unclip out to let it rest for about ten one-legged pedal strokes.

(Another one of those rides where I wish I had a basket to pick up all of the stuff which was discarded on the course. Danny Turner said he saw a wad of money on the road...dude, you didn't stop!?)

T2 - much shorter than the lead-in from the swim, thank goodness. Yes, I had to walk the bike through the entire transition area, but since there was low grass, smooth gravel & carpeting it was fairly quick & painless. Took the time to kill off the 20-ounce bottle of Gatorade Endurance Formula I picked up at the third bottle exchange - part of the 60 ounces of fluid taken on the bike course to supplement the 60 ounces (40 of Accelerade/Hammer Gel/water mixture, 20 of straight water) I carried on board - and hit the head.

So the answer, Mimi, is: No. No peeing on the bike. I waited until T2.

Run - 13.1 miles - 2:22
Regardless of whatever plans you make, the run leg of a triathlon is uncomfortable. It all depends on how you define uncomfortable. Compared to my previous half-iron experience, this was not so much a kick in the groin as a slap very, very close to it. The first & second miles were just plain awful, but I knew that was going to happen. That's why (most) people do transition runs, or bricks. The warmth of the run course in downtown Augusta made it almost necessary to play it cautious; I already planned to walk through the aid stations which were located about every two kilometers on the course in order to take enough fluids to forestall cramping. Things seemed to work well until mile four, then the wheels fell off. They did not fall off like my previous half, where I walked for a solid hour; they fell off closely enough to the wagon I could pick them up & replace them. And replace them, I did. Every other block for the next three miles; I tried to go further than a block, or as far as I could until the cramp would start, then I'd take a minute or a block & walk.

(How many stoopid people do you know who take a cell phone on the run at a triathlon?)

Every run course, every race course, has a point on it where the crowds are sparse or nonexistent, the view is dismal, & your body begins to debate very loudly with your mind. My point was somewhere between the sixth & seventh mile, on Reynolds Avenue, heading back toward the Augusta Rowing Club. The bad news was I developed a major cramp in my left hamstring, the kind that makes you literally pitch off to one side, hopefully into something soft & comfortable. The good news was that it stopped me dead still rather than pitching me off into the bushes along the roadway. The real good news was that a fellow participant gave me the one Hammer Endurolyte capsule she had left...which perhaps made the difference between walking/jogging the next 6 miles & just walking the next 6 miles.

And this happened at a point where at least three of the aid stations on the course were beginning to run out of cups, cold drink & sponges. I had to forego aid on the southern side of Broad Street because there were no cups whatsoever. (If you're in a later wave of a large triathlon event, consider yourself warned.)

Finish - 6:20:22
Compared to the last half-iron triathlon, I finished two minutes faster...on a less-challenging swim but a more-challenging bike. If I said I was not hoping for a quicker time, you could call me a liar. But I'm pleased with how things turned out (especially the way I feel days later - sleeping without waking up to cramps from the nether regions are a plus).

Lessons Learned/Training Foci:
Swim - more full suit-swims & resistance training - strengthen the arms for longer wetsuit swims and decrease fatigue. Able to make 1.2 in hour, so no need to panic on longer swim, just do one stroke at a time and stay focused.

Bike - check function (air/lubrication/gears/brakes) both during check-in & pre-race in transition. 90-minute bottles worked wonderfully; set-up either one 6-hour bottle or two 3-hour bottles for IM. Use aero bottle for water. A couple of 3-hour-to-4-hour road or trainer rides should work well to get comfortable in saddle.

Run - carry electrolytes of some sort in fuel belt; don't trust race course to have enough good stuff. Use HEED/Perpetuem and/or Endurolytes. Long, easy-paced (8:00min/mile) runs/ short transition runs over next weeks.

My Name Is Pain

What's your name, my name is Pain - Where do you live, I live anyplace - Where were you born, in the state of fear - How old are you, nineteen hundred and ninety four years ... ("Pain," Elton John, Bernie Taupin - 1995)
What's your plan, my plan is pain - When will you leave, I'll never go away - How will you breathe, you'll give me life - How will you see, sitting in the temple right between your eyes...

This morning was one of those infrequent ones, thank goodness, where I find my body has failed to adapt to the amount of stress I've placed upon it. I had also occur about a month ago, not long after adding a few more workouts and a few more miles to my training. But this morning is a little different. Rather than the subtle, gentle ache of fatigue, I am enduring what I would definitely classify as pain.

My name is Pain, you belong to me - You're all I wanted, I'm all you'll ever be - From the beginning in a world without end - I am the air, I am Pain...

Yes, that very "far on the right hand side of the pleasure-pain scale" feeling Hume wrote about. He probably didn't use a continuum like I tend to, but he talked about how we as humans gravitate toward pleasure and avoid pain. I can understand why. There aren't any good drugs that will deal with pain and still leave you able to drive your automobile, sit at your computer, or be anything close to functional.

Pain is love, Pain is pure - Pain is sickness, Pain is the cure - Pain is death, Pain is religion - Pain is life, Pain is television...

And while we definitely know the difference between physical and emotional pain, we're less able to differentiate between physical pain and discomfort. I'll take for example one of my athletes. After the second set of Tuesday night's track workout, she mentioned that her calves were burning and in pain. I told her, 'don't worry, you're good.' 'You have one more set to go.' She managed to plod through the third set at more or less the same pace as the first one.

Before she went to do her cool-down jog and striders, I explained the difference between discomfort/fatigue and pain: Discomfort is generalized, diffuse, surface level, and decreases almost immediately after you stop exertion. Pain is focal, intense, deep and remains without regard to exertion level. A brief discussion of Noakes' Central Governor Model of Fatigue soon followed. All I'm trying to do with my athletes is get them to "turn the thermostat up" another notch.

However, for me today, it's more C.S. Lewis' megaphone of God. I think the message is: Rest.

Doing Doubles

Nature, who for the perfect maintenance...of her general equilibrium, has sometimes need of...this impulse, now that one, in accordance with what she requires. - Marquis de Sade

Since the beginning of the year I've done, in varying degrees of frequency, two workouts a day. I first did doubles during the summer before my last semester of college, because I was running cross-country. Your body goes through a multitude of feelings and responses during a period where you're doing two workouts that range from good ol' garden variety fatigue to unending hunger/thirst, to depression, to (if you do it correctly) a sense of feeling, as Travis Tritt once sung, Ten Foot Tall & Bulletproof.

Triathletes, especially the ones training for long distance events, do doubles almost by necessity. Heck, if anyone who took up triathlon were independently wealthy they'd get up at 8, swim from 9 to 10, then go for an easy one-hour ride or a 30-minute jog, followed by a long, lazy afternoon in front of the tube talking to the dog. HOWEVER...most tri-geeks (and some of their coaches) have real jobs. We would much rather talk about the trip we've just returned from or the next event we're going to do; it's lots more fun than talking about your doughnut-munching co-workers (or cow-workers, as one of my athletes likes to call them...) or the last batch of paperwork you had to turn into smaller batches of paperwork for the benefit of your company.

The challenge comes in balancing the morning effort & the evening effort. In order to make double workouts most effective, so I am learning, is to ensure there is enough time to recover so you're not completely wiped out or on the fast track to an overuse injury. Even if you decide to separate your run workouts with a cross-training effort (for triathletes, the non-impact sports of triathlon, swimming & cycling) it's still important to adjust between hard efforts, easy efforts, long durations & short ones. If doing the same workout at the same intensity over the same duration twice a day doesn't bore you to the point you decide to not get out of bed after the first week...it will certainly beat you down so you end up with...yep...an overuse injury.

Nutrition & hydration are also important, before, during and in between workouts. Extended endurance training may burn off fat, but too much can break down muscle. So, you want to make certain to eat good food throughout the day. Someone like Don Kardong might recommend you avoid a diet that discourages the use of ice cream (okay, at least you can have dessert in moderation); your body ends up chasing down anything it can burn after a certain point in time...and you don't want it to be muscle.Oh, and there will be times when you have to listen to your body to shut down a workout when pain arrives. You'll know pain, it feels much different than discomfort. There'll be days when you absolutely have to rest. Do it. There's a good reason. Sometimes you have to do the one-mile test: Go out for one mile, or perhaps the first half mile out & back on your planned run. If you still feel bad call it a day & rest. If you feel fine after a mile, go right ahead & continue...but take an extra easy workout or two.

As you approach the target event, you might want to cut back to one workout a day during the week or two weeks just before...your body won't know what to do with the extra energy come race morning.

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?'

Revenge of The Fat Lazy B@st@rd

I talked myself into this race about six weeks ago as a tip of the hat to the local running club. Since one/more of their board of directors asked me the 'why don't you race local races any longer?' question, it seemed like a reasonable idea. I figured I was in better shape than I was after my horrible marathon experience in December, and had recovered enough from the half-iron distance triathlon. However, logic and reason began to scream in the back of my mind, 'why would you choose to run a race in the latter part of June, on Pensacola Beach, during the middle of the day!?'
Even my training runs weren't all that encouraging leading into the event. I kept feeling like ten pounds of used kitty litter in an eight-pound sack during my easy afternoon runs; and track work wasn't looking all that great, either. Mind you, most of the efforts were what I outwardly considered maintenance workouts; ideally at an aerobic (somewhere in the 70 percent maximum heart rate) pace. But, when I looked at my heart rate data afterward the efforts were lots closer to 80 percent, which could tell me one of two things:
1. The heat and humidity were worse than I feared, or
2. I was still a fat, lazy b@st@rd.
So, I didn't have too many expectations on this race. All I wanted to do was run as hard as I could for 3.1 miles and not embarrass myself too much.
Saturday's conditions were fairly conducive to racing; a bit of a breeze along the shoreline, partly to mostly cloudy, a little bit of rain (sprinkles) here and there. Since I hadn't raced a short race in a long time I made certain to be a little more ready, taking 30 minutes to walk along the bicycle path, then jogging easy for another 15 to 20 minutes. By the time I finished the warm-up I felt pretty good. Not confident, but good.
The first moments before the race are always hell on square wheels. While I wanted to line up as close to the front as possible I didn't know whether I was going to have the sustained power to keep from getting stomped on by some of the local greyhounds. However, I took my chances and stood one stride off the line. When the start was called it seemed like everyone and their mother went roaring past me; it probably was not so bad (high school runners and the really fast local dudes) as I feared. I tucked in behind five or six of the high school guys and cruised through the first 600 to 800 yards without too much strain. At about 800 yards it seemed like they were dawdling just a skosh (and I was concerned about a couple of my age group staying a little too close this early), so I gently knifed through the middle of their five-abreast formation and started to pick up my pace a little bit.
The time clock was set at about 1450 meters rather than a mile, so I couldn't take the time split or the call as gospel. In fact, when I looked down at my watch I knew the split was off; I haven't run a mile that fast in about four years. As always, the second mile would be the proof of how well I was doing. Got into the rhythm until it was time to turn back into the wind and run back toward the aid station. At that point the breeze seemed to pick up a skosh and reality began to set in. I managed to get past the second mile split before strange things began to happen (loose shoelaces, excessive heart rate, panic, and so on). I tried to stop for a second or two to at least tuck my shoelace into my training flats, to no avail. At that point I lost mental focus and all the bad things started to come into my mind...and when the mind goes the body is not long to follow.
My last mile and tenth was not particularly pretty; well, it was good for a half-marathoner or the run leg of a triathlon but not so good for a 5K road race. I ran a 19:16, which would time out to a respectable 10K or half marathon, and was good enough for a top-20 and age group first place. I groused for all of three minutes, then put it all in perspective as I watched some of my friends and athletes come in...it was warm, humid (not terrible) and not a goal race. And age group hardware is age group hardware no matter how you slice it.
What bothered me more was to see a guy in his early 50s, who uses me as a target for his training and racing, looking much like his life was over. He finished about 30 seconds behind me and looked absolutely despondent. I guess it's worth feeling that way if there's money or honor involved, but with a local race with little more than a beer glass (and perhaps local bragging rights) at stake...I'm not so certain.
I took the time to chat with him, ask a few questions about his training (he works strictly on speed training) and recommended he train with my friend George. I also told him what I felt it would take for him to beat me at a 5K. Dude, it doesn't mean that much to me...if it means that much to you, then here is what you'll have to do.
But, I did tell him the bottom line - you are only as good as your next race. Who knows when mine will be? Hard to tell.
Until then, it's back to training. Being a fat, lazy b@st@rd is no fun.

Mini-Taper and Some Cool Thoughts For Today

First of all, I am SO glad my wife is back from her two weeks on the road. While I am functional when she is out doing all the cool stuff her business demands of her in order to thrive, survive and all that, it's not all that fun. I'm good for a window of 12-to-36 hours, after that it's pretty bad. I felt, most of the time, like someone (or thing) had beaten the daylights out of me with a rubber stick (under-recovered), even with multivitamin supplementation and whatever extra rest (sleep) I could snatch. Even taking an easy week of training (which I schedule) at the end of the month didn't seem to do the trick.
However, I think I figured it out the other day, after Chinese food at lunch and salad with chicken and strawberry slices at dinner. Because I'm less likely to cook or eat good food while she was out, I wasn't getting either the right stuff or the right amount of stuff to refuel my body. Contrary to popular belief, the furnace may burn whatever you put in it, but it might not burn as well or as long.
So, this week is basically what I would call a "kinda-taper" to prepare for this weekend's triathlon. The goal is to relax and let the body store up energy, but not to get too lazy. Since I did a bike ride yesterday (nearly twice the distance I'll ride this weekend) at about 55 percent of my maximum effort I won't do much else outside of cleaning and tweaking the bike. I'll swim one morning workout and do one race-distance (~600 yards) time trial over the next couple of days; my running will consist of an easy-paced one-hour run tonight, and a four-mile run at high 6:00-to-low 7:00/mile pace - the tempo I'll probably run this weekend.

I haven't taken the time to look at the water temperature for the Gulf of Mexico this weekend, though. I suspect the water is going to be cool if not chilly. However, a ~600 yard swim is not going to merit using a wetsuit. I think if the distance was anything over 800 yards I would consider it.

My old friend Chuckie V wrote on his blog some really neat thoughts about training he picked up from three-time Ironman world champion Peter Reid, at their advanced camp. My take-away from Reid's teaching at Solvang are:
1. Don't mask your fatigue with drugs. Caffeine in particular...but this can also be other stuff (adult beverages, for example). I like coffee, particularly for it's warming effect first thing in the morning. But there have been occasions where I've had my cup and crawled back into bed for a little more sleep instead of trying to slog through my morning workout. Fatigue in one area leads to (over-)compensation in another, which leads to injury.
2. Efficiency outweighs raw speed. While a single 71-second 400 meters on the track is fairly sprightly, it's another thing all together to tie four together into a 4:50 mile...or 12 and a half of them into a 14:50 5K. There's speed in the short, short term and there's speed over distance, a function of efficient, comfortable running.
3. Long runs are underrated. Even short distance racing improves from aerobic fitness.
4. Race day starts long before the starting gun is fired. A single mis-step on eating, drinking, clothing items, the drive, the porta- and warm-up can mess up an entire day.

5. Patience. No race was ever won at the first 100 yards, but plenty of races have been lost there.

Nice... Problems To Have

Every time I hit the road for a race/trip it seems the desk clerk or the concierge assumes everyone who is a runner wants pasta the night before the race. Personally, I'm not in the mood for pasta; I'd rather have Chinese...then I can have rice, and veggies and chicken.

We had some fantastic pasta in the past, I dare admit. One place near Dayton, OH, had some good stuff. But the most memorable thing had to be the abundance of garlic...Chef Emeril Lagasse was asked during one of his shows, 'how do you know when there's too much garlic?' His response almost broke the seatbelt on my couch and risked having me roll on the floor, laughing my @$$ off: 'I don't know. I haven't gotten there yet.' Okay, we were warned about the garlic content of this place's house dressing, so we went with ranch on top of our salad. HOWEVER, the chef must have caught on to our plan to avoid the bulb, because the fried calamari must have been marinated in the stuff. Yes, it was delicious, but (exhale, wrinkle nose) I think I'm still detoxifying five months after the fact.

...sounds like someone in need of a Toastmasters intervention.
My swimming coach and I were chatting after this morning's workout (once I regained consciousness/normal heart rate/normal breathing) about what easily could have been considered the match race for this local running community. Two of the area's strongest runners finally went head-to-head during a 15-mile race at Fort Pickens, on the Gulf Islands National Seashore. One specializes at racing the half-marathon and under, the other races the half-marathon and up. Both are quiet, unassuming, and modest gentlemen; coaching and inspiring many of the area's young adult runners. It's almost funny to see the running community line up behind one or the other when the (inevitable) debate arises each year. The runner who took second place has won his share of marathons. He was the first American male to win the Disney Marathon, and he's won Pensacola's marathon on at least two occasions, I believe. His comment about what happened during the race, 'I still got (sic) a little marathon in me.'
Steve was planning to ask Marathon Matt about his recovery regimen; seems an interesting topic, given the (painfully obvious) fact he raced (okay, ran - his winning time was ten minutes slower than his winning time the previous year) Pensacola two weeks before and Disney several weeks before that.

I think there's probably two or three points Matt would mention:
1. Train to peak at the right time. Know the races for which you want to be the most fit and the most ready, then walk backward as you're planning your training cycle.
2. Follow the hard/easy principle of training. If you train full-bore all year long the odds are high you will incur an injury.

3. Listen to the times when your body says it needs rest. Complete rest, active rest, and regeneration is as important as tempo runs, interval work and overdistance.
I'm certain the races Matt's run this early spring have been signposts on the way to his ultimate goal; a strong finish on Boylston Street come mid-April. You don't see him racing throughout the year. In fact, a long, steady training progression (with a single-peak period) ensures the highest and longest peak he - and most well-trained athletes - can possibly achieve.

Fatigue. Starting to see the possible benefits of massage therapists and "bone benders," especially as there are more miles on the ol' odometer. Funny, running will beat you from the behind down (unless you've got old shoes, and then it can beat up you lower back, too)...it takes that swimming and cycling we use for cross-training to beat up the rest of the musculoskeletal system. I don't get it...yet. But I will soon.
Four days so far, and I've been good on my vow to steer clear from french fried potatoes. I'm not certain whether I'll be able to hold off the entire month, but I'm going to try. I think if I see a couple of extra pounds drop off this frame it'll be the motivation to keep at it. It's an interesting paradox; while fat stores in the body are beneficial to swimming (buoyancy) they are useless excess baggage once you get on the bicycle or out on the run. Get too thin and you might be able to climb or ride strongly, but you then lack on the run...and swimming is a nightmare.
So where do we draw the line? My wife says a little more to the right than I say. There's a happy medium all over the place.

Res Ipsa Loquitur, NSPS.