Not Too Far To Walk Back

It's great to be able to link up with many of my fellow run enthusiasts and classmates by way of social media.  Every once in a while I hear a doozy:

"u know what the trouble with jogging is...by the time you realize you're not in shape for it, it's too far to walk back."  I'm not that shocked to hear a statement like this coming from a fellow Baby Boomer.  Most of my high school companions, including the sporty ones, would consider themselves to be - unlike Sir Paul McCartney - more than the man they used to be.  Even though, if asked to judge our health on a 1-to-100 scale, we would most likely give ourselves a score in the 70 range, I'm starting to see some around my age "leave" in ones and twos.  An insurance company-sponsored survey of 1,800 persons, ranging in age from 25-to-64, found folks my age more likely to define "healthy" as visiting the doctor and filling the necessary check in the block on the questionnaire each year...and the requisite bodily fluid work-up, etc.
Only one in five of us would say we're doing something to "look good in our underwear," such as a regular exercise routine.  And when it happens, it's more likely to be because we've got a goal staring us in the face; men usually tie it to an endurance event, such as a marathon...women to a wedding or reunion.

Like any 12-step program, the first step to working through the problem is admitting the problem exists.  Lots of Boomers invested the lion's share of their time and effort on raising families and developing careers.  Now that we've begun to have more time to do other stuff we receive the sudden and frightening message that we're not as fit as we were when we were in high school or university.  How do we get back to where we once belonged?  First of all, like our generation is more likely to inform the Gen-Xers and Millennials, we need to not sweat the small stuff. 

If I were going to go back and develop a running habit from the outset I would start with finding a loop course, just big enough to traverse that I felt like there was a level of accomplishment, but not so large that I couldn't do it in five minutes or so...so we're talking probably something in the range of 600 or 700 meters; no bigger than half a mile around.  Grass and packed dirt would be fantastic, but an asphalt bike path will do in a pinch.  Start by doing one minute of running, followed by walking until you're ready to run one minute again.  Do this for at least 30 minutes, every other day for three weeks. 

Test yourself at the three-week point:  Run for as long as you can without stopping.  Divide that time by three; make that the new "run" time.  Once you get to the point where you can run comfortably for thirty minutes you can start to add on time here and there as your body tolerates it.  Have fun with it; alternate hard running with easy running, easy running with brisk walks.  There are many benefits of running for time rather than for distance.  Unless you're in the surveying (or course measurement) business, a second is a second everywhere in the world (great for those persons who do a lot of traveling), and your heart and lungs will gain the same benefits whether you're doing three or five miles in a thirty minute span. 

And if the heat and/or humidity happens to be an obstacle, treadmills can be the best alternative.  I know people who despise treadmills with a passion, but I like the ability to control almost all of the potential variables which can affect exercise performance, namely air temperature, surface hardness/softness, elevation and speed (I'll include the ability to immediately stop the run, live to fight another day,should something begin to hurt badly.).  And if you're at a gym facility where there's lots of traffic, often the scenery isn't only limited to what's on the television screen.  To make certain you're not going at too quickly a pace during the run pieces, I would running the "talk test" during the first bout on the belt - start at five miles per hour.  Can you talk to yourself, or a person next to you, in complete sentences?  Bump up the speed a notch.  check yourself after a minute.  When you find the sentences are shorter, or you can't finish it without taking a deep breath you've probably found the right pace.  The walk recovery pace is not a problem; set it for anywhere between three and four miles per hour and you'll be fine.

Some persons say that treadmill running is not the same as running on the roads or trails, and they are correct, but in very small ways.  Other than wind resistance, there's not much difference between how our body reacts to running on a moving belt and how it reacts on a gravel road, or dirt trail, or rubber track.  Purists can kick the elevation on the treadmill up one notch just to make it feel more like you're working into a self-made breeze.

So don't fret if you're a boomer who's started to worry if they'll ever be able to regain lost fitness, or wants to drop weight, lower the risk of obesity-related diseases.  As long as you remain patient at the start, consistent through the process, and progressive in adding intensity once your body begins to tolerate the new (or renewed) stressors, it's never too far a walk back to a fit lifestyle.

Preschool Football

The runner's life requires discipline, sometimes the occasional denial of of life's more-pleasurable pursuits.  But when a Simon's football (you may call it soccer) match and a hash kennel (mis-)management meeting falls on the same afternoon as a workout, common sense states it's better to defer the task and make many (female) family members happy.  Because, like the old phrase says "when Mama (in this case, "Grammy" Suzanne...) ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." 

And this coach is all for happiness.

Four-year-old footballers, like Simon, do not naturally exhibit the same skills as the first-division professionals I've enjoyed watching for the past three decades, with the exception of the one kid who had the "crumpled on the turf" posture at the mouth of the goal down pat, which occurred immediately after the opposing team's score.  The match looked kind of like what happens when an order of french fries is dropped in the parking lot of a Burger King in Florida:  The french fries represent the soccer ball, the seagulls are the players.

So I laughed and cheered both sides for twenty minutes, and marveled at the fun the small fry were having; it was clear they were enjoying themselves.  What they were doing was - for their benefit - a simplified version of football, without corner kicks or offside rules.  Everybody played the entire game, and - save a few handball calls - no real fouls in spite of the two goal mouth dives from that one kid.

"You beat my husband up pretty good on Saturday," said the hash treasurer.

I explained that her husband was as much responsible for his own beating as I.  Suzanne concurred with my assessment of the situation, and suggested "hash cash" could keep him company at the next Saturday morning workout.

She said, "I just started a 'couch-to-five-kilometer' training program at the local running emporium, and all they do is tell us to 'go run.'  I was paired up with a guy who runs slower than I do, and I really don't feel like I'm getting any benefit out of it."

"You couldn't run any faster?"  I asked.

"No.  And what about nutrition?  What about core, stretching, and cross-training?  Sure, they gave us an information sheet, but I feel like I paid for something..."
"More prescriptive?"

"Yes."

"Tell you what I'll do." I said.  "Let's do dinner some Friday evening.  We can talk about all this and find out what you want to get out of a training program.  I'll try to answer your questions to the best of my ability, and point you in the right direction."

The "hash cash's" lament succeeded in winding me up in the manner of a cheap wristwatch, but, because I promised my wife I would not speak ill of local running impresari I made only weak comments.  It wasn't until the following morning as I was preparing for work - amazing what a hot shower (and Tina Turner's "Private Dancer...") can do for encouraging deep thoughts - that it all came to me.  The goal of a Cto5K program isn't that far removed from that of a recreational football program for four year-olds:  Minimize the hard stuff, maximize the fun.  So what if the other team beats you by two goals; everyone got to play, everyone got to chase after the ball, right?  And everybody on the sidelines were cheering for you, right?

In Kenny Moore's biography, Oregon coach Bill Bowerman considered running an act which was as easy as brushing ones' teeth.  Bowerman's protege' Bill Dellinger clarified that belief; running may have paralleled basic dental care, but training was like having ones' teeth cleaned for an hour each day.  It's bad enough that middle and high school physical education teachers, athletic coaches at all levels, and the military service have turned running from a joyous activity into punishment and drudgery.  Sometimes we need to take the activity and restore it back to it's most simple form of placing one foot in front of the other, repeatedly, for as long as we can enjoy it.  When a world record holder in the marathon (Alberto Salazar) recommends running no more than 30 minutes a day for five or six days out of the week, and adding other forms of exercise to build muscle strength and flexibility, there might be something to be said about why we run for longer than that duration.

We run because it makes us happy.  And if we aren't happy, and if we aren't running in a way that makes us happy...

Changing Your Definition

My buddy Justin posted this up on my social media wall the other evening, not many minutes after a perfectly decent rowing ergometer workout at my local fitness gym...

I swore last year to not deride people who purchase fitness center memberships in January but never use the facility after March, or how infuriating the first two-to-three months of the year can be for persons who have a well-developed workout habit.  The smart "resolutionists" at least take advantage of the "complimentary" fitness assessment; they know how far they have to go to meet the airbrushed (and most-likely "cosmetic-surgeried") image of quote-unquote "fitness" plastered on billboards.  When it comes to that 'oh, gosh, I'm THAT unhealthy?' revelation, perhaps ignorance to a certain degree is bliss.  Some would prefer to not pay the extra dough to have someone beat up on them for the next three/six/twelve months...or longer.

As a runner/triathlete-type, I have near-epistemological opinions about what does and does not constitute fitness.  It used to be if it had nothing to do with swimming, bicycling and running I preferred to avoid it at all costs.  An Outside Magazine story on climber-turned-hard-core-fitness-trainer Marc Twight, and ESPN's telecast of the CrossFit Games caused me to channel my own inner Pontius Pilate and re-ask: 'what is fitness?'  But that's what philosophy - and coaching - is all about, isn't it?  Believe it, test it, re-work it, retest, and repeat.

So, this year I've decided to engage in some personal resolutions, not necessarily run-focused, but resolutions which will most likely carry over into life pedestrian:

Read more - I refer often to three or four good training books, but this last year provided me the opportunity to branch out and read works in genres I hadn't touched since college.  If coaching had only to do with the heart, lungs, muscles and skeleton the learning process would be simple.  Ah, but there are brains, minds and souls; opinions, concerns and fears involved.  And the scariest territory of any fitness enthusiast or athlete would have to be that space which is between the left ear and the right ear.  Luke Humphrey's "The Hanson's Marathon Method" is on my short list of acquisitions.  A conversation with my step-son, Scott has inspired me to re-read Phil Jackson's 'Sacred Hoops: Spiritual Lessons of a Hardwood Warrior."  Expect a few nuggets in the future from these minds.

Recover more - Reading is a great form of recovery from both the physical and mental stress of training, as well as the stress of the work day.  Contrary to the opinion of some of my co-workers.  Recovery is everything you are doing when you aren't working out: Sleep, food, massage, hydration.  Those are important, but don't forget the Bowerman-esque "hard day-easy day" theory, or Bannister's training impact.  Contrary to the dictum of the great Hungarian coach Mihaly Igloi, 'every day hard training must make,' we don't need to do every workout at one-hundred percent intensity.  When's the last time you had a rest day marked on the training schedule?

Resist more - Several definitions of resistance can be covered here.  Weight training, or cross-training which involves friction (rowing ergometer, elliptical trainer, indoor cycling) can raise heart rates a touch and strengthen muscle groups which are important for running performance, without the worrisome impact which can make joints (especially older ones) ache.  The second form of resistance comes in the form of avoidance; like unhealthy food and drink choices (here I am most definitely speaking to myself!), of toxic persons and situations, and workouts which become contests.  Ah, but none of us have ever treated a Sunday morning long run as a long race, have we?

Destination race - There's nothing like putting a target race on your training calendar to encourage a training focus.  My wife is much better at finding opportunities to travel and race within days of a conference or a business meeting.  Besides, you can only run the "Rancid Possum 5K" course and drink the same post-race beer so many times before things...get...old...  We have one "destination" race already on the calendar, and I suspect two or three more will soon follow.

I hope these thoughts will encourage you to look a little more closely at your running and fitness habit and see if there's something which cries out for a little change this next year.

Instant Running?

I was "batching it" last week, as Suzanne was out of town at an internet telephony conference.  There are benefits and drawbacks to these one-week separations.  The benefit, I guess, you could say, is that I become sort of a hermit; I focus all of my attention on taking care of the dog, as well as my training runs/cross-training.  That meant I had to wake up early enough to feed and walk the dog before getting ready for work.  We do have a coffeemaker with a timer on it, which if I prepare accordingly will awaken me with the aroma of mountain-grown goodness.  Unfortunately, we ran out of "real" ground coffee and I had to settle for freeze-dried instant coffee. 

When you're desperate enough, even freeze-dried coffee tasted pretty darn good.  I wrote myself a little mental note: "stop at the local grocery by the gym; don't forget the beans, stupid."  But, naturally, all I wanted to do once my afternoon workout was completed was get home, change out of my wet soppies, feed the dog and grab a cold beer.  Each morning I kicked myself in the behind for my laziness.  Each evening I conveniently forgot the need to go to the store.  Until Suzanne got home and we needed to go shopping to replace the freezer-to-table, microwave-friendly entrees with frozen veggies, bread, meat, and our other "real" food staples.  Oh, and beer.

We are a lazy, "instant" generation.  I can hear all of the responses from here:  "Duh," you say.  Microwave ovens make freezer-to-table entrees possible for even the most ham-fisted and inept of cooks.  Writer/chef Anthony Bourdain dedicates a chapter in his book "Medium Raw" to the need for culinary literacy for all persons, not just married women.  Face it.  You never know when you're going to have to fend for yourself. 

But we always have a deadline standing in our face; a target which we need to hit at least once a year, sometimes twice.  How many persons do you know who race one event a year; train for six weeks, eight weeks, do the race, then nothing for the next 40. 

It happens every October in my workplace.  The training manager who works next to administers the twice-yearly fitness testing and weigh-in.  If I had a dollar for every time an instructor questioned him, "how soon do I have to be fit?"  Duh.  Isn't that part of your profession?  Aren't you supposed to be ready to go do your job whereever your employer (and mine) tells you? 

The great New Zealand running coach Arthur Lydiard didn't have a lot of nice things to say about American runners, which probably had a lot to do with the American "overnight success" mentality.  He said that to become a good runner (besides winning the genetics and parenting lotteries) it took "...a lot of hard work for five, six, or seven years.  There is no secret formula.  There is no shortcut..."

Unless you're participating in a program where there's at least one pop icon serving as a judge, I cannot think of any other "American Idol." "The Voice," or "X-Factor," I can think of no human endeavor where success occurs quickly or instantly.  Definitely not running, as I've seen while watching the ups and downs of guys like Dathan Ritzenhein.  Or in rehabilitation; my own stumbles and failures have made me much more compassionate, or at least emphathetic, to the struggles of persons who "would love to run" but are perplexed by physiological, psychological, or economic (and when I say economy, I'm talking time, which definitely is a limited commodity) barriers.

It's easy to go the "microwave" route and focus on running for that all-too-brief period of the year, ending up with something that really doesn't satisfy the taste buds and looks like, well, like something that's been microwaved.  There are smells, sights, sensations and feelings which can be found from running throughout the year...even if most of the mileage is done on a treadmill...which we all need to "read," to "loan out" to our friends, and perhaps to "write about" on occasion.

Me Against The Watch

Before I start talking about the main topic, I have to confess this time of year, with a lead-in to another Olympic Games, is a sports junkie's dream.  It has been good for my recovery.  I’ve initiated my own little ‘occupy the couch’ movement with the US Olympic swimming and track/field trials, topped by the Tour de France as the background. 

While many of the participants of the larger ‘occupation’ movements were nebulous in what they desired, I have two goals:  The first goal is to let the lingering tendonitis in my ankles and knees completely heal.  It’s simple:  The only way to recover from an overuse injury is not to overuse what gets injured.  The second goal is to motivate myself into a frenzy of smart training once the Olympics are over.  It’s still going to be infernal, but I have a gym membership and a flexible schedule, so early morning and late evening training is not a problem.

Track and field events, and the Tour de France cycle race, have more in common than the average television spectator might guess, for a number of reasons:  When there are preliminary and semi-final heats at a track meet, the goal of most every athlete is to finish either in a position where they automatically qualify for the next round or in as fast a time as possible to be selected.  Does the athlete necessarily want to finish in first place?  All they need to do is exert just enough energy to qualify, save their energies for the final heat when a win means something. 

During the years when Lance Armstrong won seven Tours de France, he didn’t win every single stage.  He’d win a mountain stage here, and a road stage there; he would finish consistently close enough to the front of the pack every time he was on the road. 

There were races during the Olympic Trials, like the final of the women’s 5,000-meter run and the 3,000-meter steeplechase, where the leading runners not only had to win (or finish in the top three) to qualify, but also had to push the pace of the race in order to make the Olympic qualifying standard.  Some of the athletes collaborated with training partners and co-competitors to ensure a fast pace.  Others felt the need to go “off the front” and do it alone. 

Road stages of the Tour de France (and other cycling races) are a collaborative effort between teams and individual riders, both to push the pace or to hold the pace back…depending on their own best interests.  But there also is what is known in cycling as the race of truth.  Many stage races, including the Tour de France, begin with a short prologue individual time trial and also have one or two longer individual time trials during the course of the event.  The ‘race of truth’ sorts the good from the great athlete.  A rider can win a grand tour without being a great individual rider but there’s no way to win without being a good individual rider.  The time trial exposes every weakness in training, more so than the typical mass-start race.  There’s nobody to hide behind; no teammate to help pick up the pace should they falter. 

For runners, it’s more difficult is it to run a race going off the front alone without a supportive pacer than as part of a pack of individuals with near-identical fitness.

I trained under a coach who (i know) adjusted my training efforts based on recent racing results.  I never did time trials on my own because I ran at a level where I was out of reach of the really good runners and ahead of the slower ones…after the first mile of a race I was usually in “no-man’s land.”  But, when training a runner who is focused on, say, the half-marathon or the marathon, I like to schedule a 5,000-meter time trial on the roads to judge their fitness and make adjustments to their training paces.  It doesn’t necessarily have to be an organized 5K race (although I prefer a certified course), and it might not be until somewhere around six-to-twelve weeks out, but I prefer a course which resembles the terrain or conditions for their target event.

The goal of the time trial is either to run it at a slightly faster pace than the previous time trial, or to run it at the same time, but with a lower perceived effort.  If the athlete’s previous 5K time trial was at a pace where a few seconds of improvement will move them to a higher Daniels’ VDOT score, and subsequently faster training paces, I prefer the “same time at less effort” result.  Just like “heat racing,” the goal is not to light the fuse for a fantastic short race effort six, eight, or ten weeks out from the longer target event, but to develop the runner’s confidence; hiding an “extra gear” inside their head which they can save for race day.  It's the sum total of good runs, rather than a single great workout surrounded by a bunch of crappy ones, which are going to help define a running performance.

"Eustress," or You Stress?

"Mental tensions, frustrations, insecurity, aimlessness are among the most damaging stressors, and psychosomatic studies have shown how often they cause migraine headache, peptic ulcers, heart attacks, hypertension, mental disease, suicide, or just hopeless unhappiness." - Hans Selye, endocrinologist (1907-1982)

It didn't kick in until about 12:30 or so on Sunday afternoon.  When it did it was like a mule.

One minute I was  listening to Jimmy Buffett tunes on the stereo and driving to the home of Aaron and Betsy Boudreaux...a tray or two of boiled crawfish and a couple of cold beers seemed to me to be the perfect ending to a long-awaited weekend with friends and loved ones.  Next thing I know, I felt like a bank of telephones were ringing and I had to answer them, while driving at the same time.

About two hours later I felt a little more normal.  As I peeled and pulled, I managed to figure out the source of what went so awry.  I again had taken on the demands I had set aside when I retired from day-to-day coaching.  I was dealing with an increased workload at the office.  On top of that my racing fitness was not coming along as quickly as I hoped; the Achilles' tendon injuries were healing but I could only manage a good 5K...on a 10K course.  While I was outwardly pragmatic, I was all stressed up with no place to blow.

"Charley, I was a little scared," I told my friend later that afternoon over a beer.  We had talked days before about mutual friends, pillars of the community, who transmogrify into a maelstrom of insanity during Easter weekend in New Orleans.  Excesses immediately following the Classic - a couple too-many brews during the five miles from City Park to the Quarter, or a couple extra drinks while spending the evening at one of my wife's favorite karaoke establishments, is one thing.  This particular couple's hotel passageway eruptions made mixed martial artists and WWE-types take a couple of steps toward the exits.

Sometimes stress can get to us.  But is stress one of those things, like former Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart would have said, we know what it is when we experience it?  Selye described stress (in 1926) being not only (as Emanuel Kant might have said) the thing in itself, but also the cause and the result of the same thing.

So if stress is the thing, and the cause, and the result, then is it bad?  Not necessarily.  When we exercise we incur a certain degree of stress.  If we allow ourselves time to RECOVER from that physical (and sometimes mental - if you've ever gone into a workout with a sense of dread) stressor we benefit from what is known as supercompensation.  Selye would probably consider that stress "eustress," or good stress.  If we load more stress before we completely recover we begin the process of slowly grinding ourselves down.  That, in my humble opinion, is when the burnout and the overuse injuries arrive.

On the other hand, if we allow ourselves to dwell on the minutiae of life, the small stuff we cannot control, or the things which we cannot immediately remedy, we incur bad stress, what Selye considered "distress."  Sometimes we can use "eustress" to overcome some of our own "distress;" but sometimes it cannot all be remedied through physical effort or exercise.

Sometimes it takes a little "me-time."  Sometimes it takes a "crucial conversation." (another commonly-used term would be the "come-to-Jesus talk")  But the distress, like the carbonation in a soda or champagne bottle, needs to be released in a careful manner, lest the darned thing explode - usually in a hotel hallway on a Saturday night, or a patio bar on a Friday evening, with stunned onlookers all about.

Don't Say You Don't Belong

My wife ran another half-marathon this weekend. She's been very fortunate to mix business travel with road running, and I think if I could do the same with my work I would. Actually, I was able to during the first two years. After that work-related travel was pretty much minimized. If it couldn't be accomplished by phone or video conference then...and only then...did you have the chance of going on the road.

So there we were, in Miami Beach for an information technology conference. Well, she had the conference. I could have run the event if I had felt the compulsion, but still being injured and recovering, I didn't want to sidetrack my slow progress back to running fitness.

So, I decided I'd hang out along the course for a while and cheer my wife on for once. After which point I could go to breakfast and get a little run of my own. I had two mysteries of the universe which needed solution, though:

How can a guy in a tiny storefront restaurant be overlooked by two servers at eight o'clock in the morning? I wanted my cortadito, damn it. I needed my cortadito.

When looking at marathon and half-marathon participants it's not so much a spectrum of fitness as it is a Venn diagram: There are two categories - the fit and the insane. Then you have the intersection of the two groups, making up the insanely fit. I can understand the fit and the insanely fit doing it, but why do thousands of people who would fall under the "insane" category see the need to run or walk - 13.10938 or 26.21876 miles?

I'm not the best of spectators, especially for live sports events. Especially for live sports which I can do. Little league baseball and middle school basketball might have much to do with this attitude. I couldn't throw a baseball for beans, and I didn't touch a basketball until I was age ten. So I spent more time picking splinters out of my baseball uniform pants during the summer. Basketball was worse; I was more practice squad material than benchwarmer. I didn't get to play during "garbage" time; the coach didn't realize until the last game of the season ended.

Once I hit high school I figured out I was a better musician and actor than an athlete.

But during the spring of my senior year I had too much free time on my hands and sure as hell didn't want to go home early to deal with...never mind. So I went out for track, specifically distance running; in my school that was the 800 meters, mile and two-mile. The coach focused more on the sprints and hurdles than the distance guys; their training was more 'go out and run, you'll figure out what you need' than doing technical stuff or sprints. So I'd go run, then walk home from school after track.

It was dusty and very anti-social. But I was not at home. I never knew anyone who was cut from the track team. They might have quit, but they didn't get cut.

That's the nice thing about road running. You can quit, but nobody can say you don't belong. As long as you know how to place one foot in front of the other repeatedly from point A to point B you have a place in the grand scheme of things.

Got a brain, heart, lungs and limbs which are capable of propelling you along? Good.

Got a pair of shoes? Good.

Got a trail, path, track or road? Good.

And perhaps that's the reason people do road races. Call it "Occupy the Road," if you like. I guess you could just as easily run that 21.0625 or 42.125 kilometers out on a wooded trail, a beach, a stretch of sidewalk, a grassy field, or whatever surface (including a treadmill in the privacy of your own home or local gym...) you desire.

And those who have done it enough have heard the catcalls, insults and spurious warnings from the world around them. So for that amount of time, anywhere from one to six hours, on those Miami/Miami Beach streets, those 25,000 people were saying: 'I can quit if I feel like it, but you cannot say I don't belong here.'

And standing on the side of the road, as a rehabilitating runner, I was reminded the entire population, including the subsets described by John "The Penguin" Bingham - the "very fast," the "pretty fast," the "sort of fast," and the "penguins" - all belonged out there.

A couple of them held out their hand to swat a high five with me. I recognized one of my Marathon Maniac friends from the Christmas holidays. About five minutes later, my wife came by. Usually she's the one on the sideline and I'm the one racing.

"Go, honey! Go, honey! Go, honey! Go, honey!" I called out.

She looked at me and smiled. Sure, it was insane of her to be doing this, but she was having a good time.

The two gentlemen near her marveled at her one-man fan club, to which she replied, "I guess we can all be 'honey' today..."

Running might be an insane act, but don't ever let anyone say you don't belong out there.

Cramps - I Believe in Santa Claus

The question of cramping came up in a chat session with some running enthusiasts the other day, and pickle juice was mentioned as a possible solution to the problem. I guess I would have laughed a little more loudly if I hadn't read the same thing in a recent edition of Outside magazine.

Most runners or athletes have had a muscle cramp at one time or another, and we can all agree they are no fun. Somehow we manage to endure the pain and try to go on. And everyone has an opinion on what to do in order to keep the cramp from happening. I've heard people attribute cramps to dehydration, electrolyte imbalance, glycogen shortage and a host of other possibilities. I have a couple of suspicions myself, one of which involves the chairs at the Village Inn restaurants.

I kid you not.

It doesn't matter if I've run an easy five miles, or completed a hard speed workout, or gone to the pool for a masters' swim. Within five minutes of sitting down for a meal at the Village Inn it's guaranteed I will have a massive cramp in one or both of my hamstrings. And we're not talking the 'ouch, that's a cramp,' cramps. I'm talking about the type of cramp which is able to literally pitch a guy off the side of the chair and on to the floor. The type of cramp which makes grown men cry like seven year-olds who have just been told Santa Claus is fiction.

So now I sit at a booth. And I still believe in Santa Claus.

The Outside magazine piece took on several commonly-held beliefs about exercise and physical activity. When it came to the subject of cramps, runners have been told by the running cognoscenti they were caused by dehydration. Other smart people said the cramps were caused by a lack of electrolytes. Some even hold on to the belief that a lack of fuel (glycogen) is the cause.

I'm one of those who considers the fuel theory of cramping to be a strong possibility. It stems a great deal from what I've read of the Central Governor Model for Exercise, originally written about in the 1920s by Nobel laureate Archibald Hill and expanded on by physician, physiologist, marathoner and ultra-marathoner Dr. Timothy Noakes about ten years ago. Noakes' theory says, basically, our brain pretty much calculates a safe level of exertion based on past exercise experiences, metabolic state, and the intended duration of the exercise activity.

For those of you who might remember the old Star Trek series, exercise is like having the Enterprise getting hit with photon torpedoes and taking on damage. And, naturally, Captain Kirk would tell Mr. Scott in engineering to shut down everything except for life support. Okay, I'm glad we kept life support up. Duh.

Noakes writes that our central governor is going to hold back fuel (glycogen) to keep the heart, brain, and lungs alive, shutting down the fuel source to muscle fibers here and muscle fibers there. That's the reason fatigue sets in, our stride gets choppy and our range of motion decreases. Once more fuel comes to play, or the exercise bout ends, the brain recognizes the threat is over and returns (eventually) to normal function - homeostasis.

This old coach's take? The cramp either comes along because of too many muscle fibers being shut down, or from some sort of nerve-related thing (in my own personal case with the Village Inn chairs, pressure).

So why does ten milliliters - less than three ounces - of pickle juice seem to take care of cramping? Some think it has to do with a quick burst of electrolytes. Others think the tart, salty taste of brine causes a disruption in the nervous system...confuses the nerves.

A fitness enthusiast (who just happens to sell an electrolyte balancing beverage) believes the cramp comes as a result of an electrolyte imbalance. Sodium contracts muscle cells and potassium relaxes them. Calcium signals the sodium ion channel to open to begin the contraction cycle. Magnesium then encourages potassium to rush in which relaxes the cell. When a cramp happens, it’s the elements in charge of the relaxing half of the cycle, magnesium and potassium, that are missing.

Pickle juice is predominantly vinegar, which is another form of acetic acid. Acetic acid is used to treat individuals with high blood sodium levels. So, in the mind of this person, lower the sodium level in comparison to the potassium, and you may not begin the cramp.

But Schwellnus, Nicol, Laubscher, and Noakes found in 2004 there were no significant differences between two groups of ultramarathoners - those who cramped up during a race, and those who did not - for pre-race or post-race body weight, percent change in body weight, blood volume, plasma volume, or red cell volume. The immediate post-race serum sodium concentration was significantly lower in the cramp group than in the group which did not suffer from cramping. The immediate post-race serum magnesium concentration was significantly higher in the group of runners who suffered from cramping. There also were no major differences in hydration status in runners who suffered from cramps after participating in an ultra-distance race.

The cause of exercise-associated muscle cramps is probably a little closer to our brains and our nervous system than we care to admit. We might be able to drink it away with pickle juice, but all of the preventatives are more myth than truth.

I believe in fuel, and I still believe in Santa.

Will Stretching Make Me Faster? Probably Not.

There are persons who stretch a lot. There are persons who say all runners should stretch a lot. Then, there are others who say too much stretching can be a bad idea.

The January 2012 issue of Outside magazine took ten of the biggest fitness myths to the mats. One of them had to do with stretching's effect on running parformance. FSU researchers asked ten male athletes to stretch for 16 minutes, then run for an hour on a treadmill. In a later session, the same crew sat quietly for 16 minutes, then hit the treadmill for the same duration. Without the pre-run stretch, the men covered more distance while expending less energy.

So, I don't feel quite so bad about my inability to stretch. At least I can run.

Ah, you say, but if you did stretch you probably would not have to deal with the nagging little injuries you've had in the past year. Not so fast, my little friend. In several large-scale studies of athletes and military recruits, static stretching did not reduce the incidence of common overuse injuries such as Achilles tendinopathy (one of the issues with which I deal) and knee pain.

In my humble opinion, stretching is a personal matter. I'm not going to tell someone they shouldn't stretch if they feel it helps. When specific muscles are tight or I have run a lot of mileage, I will do a little bit of stretching, usually the calf muscles (which also impacts the achilles’ tendon), the iliotibial band, & the hamstrings, since these are the muscles which become most inflexible because we run.

One thing you will not see me do is throw my leg over the back of a chair, or do what I see most recreational runners do, what I like to call "flamingo imitations." You've seen the person. They're the one who take their foot and pull it directly behind them up to their backside. I'm not certain whether they're working on their knee flexibility or their quadriceps muscle. Neither one really seems all that essential to run performance.

All three muscle group stretches can be done by having a flat surface, something with which to lean against, and a bench or chair. A fifteen-minute warm-up, consisting of a jog and some stretching - at the most - and on to the run.

The calf stretch can be done while leaning against a wall, bleachers, pole, or any solid object. Hold the stretch for 30 to 60 seconds without bouncing, then switch legs.

The iliotibial (IT) band stretch is done by crossing one leg behind the other 6-9 inches, then leaning toward the rear leg. Again, hold the stretch for 30 to 60 seconds without bounce, then switch legs.

The hamstrings can be stretched by placing the leg up on a bench or support between knee & waist height (there are variations which keep both feet on the ground). Bend slowly forward at the waist until the stretch is felt, hold for 30 to 60 seconds, then switch legs.

Some things you don't want to do:

Never try to stretch a muscle that has not been warmed up. A few minutes of easy jogging (the same amount of time it takes to run about a mile) will raise a muscle’s temperature enough to make it pliable.

Never bounce during a stretch. Just stretch as far as the muscle will allow; stay relaxed & breathe. You don’t get awards for being the most flexible at the race.

Never over-stretch. You really can stretch too much & leave your joints susceptible to injury.

If you really feel the need to do it, stretching does not need to look like a return to dance classes of our youth. As long as you do it in a manner which aligns with your day-to-day functionality you probably won't need to worry about loss of muscle strength, or hurting your joints.

Stupid Damage

The road back to running health and race fitness is not always a straight path. Sometimes it's not even paved. Not that an unpaved path is a bad thing...as long as there aren't too many bumps and rocks to bounce around. Mine, so I've learned, has a few blind curves and - apparently, from an experience at the beginning of this month - some obstacles which will need to be addressed, moved or just plain blown away.

A Tuesday track workout found Jim observing, as he put it, a "hitch in my giddy-up" during the warm-up. At first I put it down to a little bit of gamesmanship; while I'm the coach and he's the athlete, we're separated in age by only a couple of years. Some of the quicker efforts on the track can put us both on the verge of racing. At the tail end of the warm-up I made a brief "pause for the cause," which can sometimes improve the gait, or at least the outlook, toward a run workout. We slid into the workout and ran our 200-meter and 400-meter repeats.

The next morning I felt pretty much the same degree of tightness in my heels as in the past, so I didn't give the discomfort much thought. Until I went out for my mid-morning run on the wood chip trail outside my office. "Being flayed alive with a rusty straight razor", like John Parker Jr's. Quenton Cassidy, would have been most welcome. I literally had to shut down the run after the first minute.

I decided to go into Plan B, and do a little bit of run-walk.

Three minutes later, Plan B turned into Plan C: a nice walk along the trail in order to save my legs for a run later in the afternoon.

As I walked gamely around my office I realized this was no minor issue of delayed onset muscle soreness or something a little more disconcerting like inflamed achilles tendons. I'd done what appeared to be some stupid damage which was most likely going to take a few days to a week to straighten out.

So, I did what any smart guy would do in that situation. I slept on the issue, then talked to my dog about it during our morning walk. As Rubin and I walked we started to consider the possible root causes:

First, there was probably too much increase in stress for the body to handle (the classic "if this is good, then twice the amount is better" thing). While I increased the duration of each run by no more than ten percent, I also added additional workouts during the week; I had gone from from four hours to somewhere close to seven hours of running over a three-week period.

The second root cause might have to do with the pair of lightweight trainers I prefer for track workouts. They aren't the oldest pair of running shoes I have, and they don't have as many miles as the oldest pair, but 310 harder, more-sweaty miles, run through the heat of summer means faster midsole breakdown than running in more mild conditions.

When I've done too much speedwork or hard running on a crowned road the discomfort is usually limited to a single heel or ankle. But the pain this time was bilateral, in the heels, ankles, knees quadriceps and lower back...a sure sign shoes are a culprit.

So, the best course of action when the stupid damage is done is go "three steps forward, two steps back". Or at least two steps back:

First thing I would recommend is to scale back the run duration to the point before the discomfort and pain began. Those runners who feel compelled to do additional workouts might want to consider ones which will stress the cardiovascular system but place minimal impact stress on the musculoskeletal systems, like road cycling, stationary cycling, elliptical trainers, aqua jogging or swimming.

Second, find running routes which aren't going to place undue stress on the joints; preferably level ground. Dirt trails are great and more forgiving than asphalt or concrete, but be careful of wood chip or mulch surfaces, as they can be a little too forgiving or too unstable for the feet and ankles.

Third, once the body has adapted to a change in weekly run duration, distance, or terrain, resist the temptation to pile on MORE. Some runners can safely handle a distance or duration increase of up to 20 percent, but we are all an experiment of one - what works for you might put me back in the hurt locker. And whatever increases or changes are done, make certain to spread them out over the entire week.

Fourth, make certain to keep track of how long you've worn or run in a pair of training shoes. Six months, or 300-to-400 miles is a good gauge, but can be shorter based on weight and running conditions. Besides, good shoes are cheaper than good physical therapists.

Finally, make certain your training plan and your racing schedule are written in pencil. I'd rather be a happy 5K runner than an injured spectator. I've done that a few too many times this past year. It's not fun.

So, listen to your body throughout the training cycle. If you don't heed the first messages, it will eventually find a way to make you listen.

All Stressed Up And Nowhere To Go

Ever have one of those mornings when you didn't feel like getting out of bed for the morning run? You talk yourself out of bed and into the morning pre-run ritual. You might even muffle the little voice in your head long enough to step out the door. Maybe you get a mile up the road before SOMETHING finally clicks in your head and you receive the urgent message. You know the one:

What. Are. You. Thinking?

There are mornings, sometimes days, when our body tries to inform us it hasn't completely recovered from the stress of days past, which may or may not include our training. A heart rate monitor is an inexpensive tool to determine or predict whether we've endured a little too much stress.

I've used a heart rate monitor as part of my training for the past six or seven years. It's a simple tool to figure out your resting heart rate first thing in the morning. Some folks like to use the monitor to maintain their run pace. The heart rate monitor can also be used to help quantify a workout effort.

An athlete's resting heart rate can show the progression of fitness, as well as the onset of overreaching (not so good) or overtraining (not good at all). Some will place the heart rate strap when they go to bed, then turn on the heart rate receiver for a minute after waking up. Once the athlete learns their average heart rate, those mornings when sudden spikes of five-or-more beats-per-minute are read can tell the athlete about residual stress, or that the body has not completely recovered.

A resting heart rate can also be checked just as easily by placing a finger on the carotid artery and counting the pulses for a minute, but machines are more likely to be honest than human beings about the numbers.

I know folks who like to pace their runs based on a target heart rate zone. I prefer to go by feel than by heart rate for a number of reasons:

First, the heart is a demand pump. The oxygenated blood is sent to the places the body informs the brain it is most needed. That means there's a lag time between an effort is performed by the muscles and when the blood arrives to replenish the muscles...kind of the reverse of the way our automobile's carburetor works.

Second, depending on hydration (or dehydration), weather conditions, fitness, etc., a particular pace effort can vary in heart rate. A six-minute-per-mile pace is not always going to equate to a 145 beat-per-minute rate, just to give an example.

Ever ask someone how difficult a particular workout was? How do they usually describe it?

Dr. Eric Bannister researched training impact, scoring by percentage of maximum heart rate, multiplied by duration. Each ten percent above the fiftieth percentile earns a single point for each minute of effort. So a sixty-minute run at fifty percent of max heart rate would be a training impact score of sixty. That same sixty minutes at sixty percent max heart rate would score 120, a 180 training impact score would be seventy percent max for sixty minutes, and so on. Most good heart rate monitors have a function which informs the user how long their effort was in a particular range, or provides the average heart rate for the workout period.

Bannister and others also researched whether the Borg (perceived effort) scale of one-to-ten could be used to score training stress. They found most experienced athletes scored their perceived effort almost as accurately without a heart rate monitor; an athlete who scored their workout as a six-out-of-ten was found to have had exercised at around sixty percent of maximal heart rate. So you don't necessarily have to use a heart rate monitor, but you can get deeper into the details with one on your wrist/chest.

Once the workout is scored, the question soon follows as to what that score means to the individual.

Hunter Allen, one of the developers of the Training Peaks workout software, in a recent article, correlated training stress scores to levels of stress and need for recovery. He wrote that scores of:

- less than 150 = low stress. Recovery from this effort is generally complete by the following day.

- 150-to-300 = medium stress. Some residual fatigue. Generally complete recovery by the second day after the workout.

- 300-to-450 = high stress. Residual fatigue remains even after two days.

- more than 450 = very high stress. Residual fatigue over the next several days is likely.

While it's important to know how hard we run or work out, it's more important to realize gains in strength, speed, endurance and overall fitness come as we allow our body to properly recover from the effort. Once we completely recover we can go out and repeat the stress again, which makes our body more resistant to that same level of stress.

Irrational Thoughts?

'Sometimes I think it's a shame when I get feelin' better when I'm feelin' no pain.' - "Sundown," Gordon Lightfoot (1974)

Just because a person has coached athletes for a few years, has learned from hard experience what not to do, and struggles on a regular basis to clearly communicate those lessons to people who ask questions of them does not necessarily mean they have achieved an immunity to the disorder I like to call "abject stupidity."

Somehow I managed to survive a brief exposure to this disorder on my way to my "real" job this morning.

I started to think about training for a marathon.

Those who follow my rambling, sometimes cryptic missives know marathon training nearly turned me into "once a runner" approximately six months ago. It wasn't necessarily marathon training which was the primary cause of my achilles injury as much as a failure to deal with an under-healed achilles tendonitis issue which plagued me for three or four years.

I'm not certain what made me start to think about the marathon. Could it be because the evenings and the early morning hours have become a little more cool? Perhaps the slow approach of autumn and the need to review the training plan of one of my athletes was a subtle hint. Maybe, just maybe, it was that set of 400s we ran during last night's workout.

I wasn't the one spanking the group, though. Jim took Deena and myself to the woodshed most of the workout. He was kind enough to let us out after the third set. But it was nice to float up along Jim's shoulder on the back stretch of the last 400 and be in that middle ground between floating - where you feel the spring in the toe-off - and the feel when you know there's no "extra gear" available.

So a little bit of the speed is returning; 15 seconds a mile here, 20 seconds a mile there. But I must remind myself, like Taco Bell differs from Mexican food, there is a vast difference between being "healthy" and being "fit;" being "able to run" and being "able to race." I am most certainly not out of the woods yet. But I am beginning to see glimpses of the glade.

Injured runners often take too little time off from training, don't allow the body enough time to gradually ramp back up to the level of training they were at when they injured themselves, and don't stay in touch with how their body is feeling during the ramp-up. Fail to exercise caution and restraint when increasing distance, duration, intensity, and especially when races are added, and those "small" injuries which are usually remedied with a weeks' worth of rest or cross-training can transform into "major" issues which drastically affect the overall quality of life.

Feeling no pain is not necessarily the same as feeling better. It is, however, the first step on the road to recovery.

As for this ol' coach, we're almost ready for 5,000-meter road races, and not much more. In the meantime, there's a couple of flat late-autumn and early-spring marathons I'll continue to consider; the operating word is "consider."

I'm not that stupid. Yet.

Surprise!

Another Red Dress weekend in New Orleans. Another trip, the fourth, away from the hound and house. You can naturally expect when you visit the Crescent City in a month which does NOT have an "R" somewhere in it that the weather conditions are going to be very hot and very humid. This being the fourth time I had a fairly well laid-out plan of action. Or so I thought.

I had a very good idea of the packet pick-up/expo location, having gone that general direction during Jackson Day a couple of years back. However, the last thing I wanted to do was hoof it ten kilometers in 90-plus-degree weather...one way.

I then thought, 'this is not a problem. I can drive to the fairgrounds and back.' A very reasonable plan until I saw the parking arrangements our lodging providers instituted. We could pay 20 bucks-a-day for the privilege to park near our room, but not only was it not a certain thing we would have a parking spot should we remove our vehicle, but if double or triple parking was the order of the day we would have to leave our keys with the hotel staff in order to move the car.

We figured we would have sufficient time to meet our friends, take a taxi to packet pick-up, then do the pre-festivities. Of course, our planning operated on the assumption we could and would get our registration-related goodies in an efficient manner.

Oh, it is to laugh; we're talking hashers, Coach Mike.

So, the pre-festivities went right out the window with the bath-water. Ah, but that lost opportunity removed a potential obstacle to getting up at before the crack of dawn to run with the 5:20 Club. Rather than drink Natural Light or other hasher fare, Suzanne and I decided to take a taxi back to one of our favorite dining/imbibing establishments and introduce our friends Charley and Sheila to some area-brewed and locally-cooked goodness.

I made a command decision at dinner that I would miss out on 5:20; get up at 5, get a brief workout inside the fitness center, clean up and have (continental, which continent we were not yet certain...) breakfast in the lobby. To wake the next morning at 5 was no problem. On my way to the fitness center I decided to walk past where my car was parked.

If you grew up collecting Hot Wheels or Matchbox die-cast cars, storing them in those plastic-divided cases, you probably remember eventually having more cars than storage slots. Ah, but it was never a problem; we would gently wedge a row of cars perpendicularly between the two outer rows.

That's what it looked like in the parking garage. If I had been in a rush to get to, say, the airport, it would have taken a solid 20 minutes to get the cars which had been multiple-parked...just to get to where my car was. While frustrating, I looked at the situation as one which reinforced my need to NOT drive during the weekend. I know how to use a taxi, walk, or the RTA.

The weekend was filled with surprises which challenged previously-ingrained patterns of doing things. After the first thirty seconds of grousing we quickly adapted, made command decisions and marched smartly forward into the fog.

How many times have we done the same routine over and over? My parents know by now the easiest evening to contact me is Monday or Friday; we're always doing some track workout on Tuesday or Thursday, long-ish runs on Wednesday or Sunday, a road trip or a race on Saturday. After a while not only do I start asking myself the "what am I going to assign tonight?" question, but my athletes start chanting the last set before I get it out of my mouth.

Gosh, have I become THAT pattern-based?

I know it takes as little as 21 days of doing something...especially an unhealthy thing...before the behavior becomes a habit. I'm not saying we need to break up our routines for the sake of breaking routines. But the "ho-hum, another darned (blank) workout" feeling should probably be a subtle hint.

As a coach, I have a little less wiggle space than the average self-coached runner; run a few unscheduled hill repeats or a road run here and there as long as the athletes are fit enough to adapt to the sudden change. Otherwise, it's change up the intensities on the non-track nights for me.

A little variation in terrain, intensity, duration, time of day, or even running partner/s can help stave off the "ho-hum." And it's less drastic than running in a red dress.

Joggers? Welcome!

I showed up at the beach run last night to see a good friend in the parking lot. Ron had just returned from a six-week sojourn in Michigan. After the requisite insults and innuendo we started our trek on the six-mile loop, at a mutually-agreed upon pace; laughable for him, comfortable for me. I knew he was going to want to talk about his time in the Great White North, so the pace was soon to become one where I could speak little.

We initially joked about the weather conditions, which explain why I live in the South...

Ron: "I was scraping ice off my window two days ago."

Me: "The only glass. I want ice to touch. Is one filled. With unsweetened tea. Or an adult. Beverage of choice. Depends on time of day."

Ron then told me about a couple of track workouts he ran with a local running group, and the running club affiliated with the (multinational) company for which he was briefly employed.

"They said, 'oh, we have some really fast runners in this group. One of our guys ran a (blank)-minute 5K.' I went out running with him twice. The dude was a hockey player; in decent shape, but not really fast." Having seen his rear at more than my share of road races I know what Ron defines as "fast."

I responded, "Gee, thanks, Ron. Glad you're being. Nice to me. Since I haven't. Run that time. For 5K. Since my injury." At least he didn't call me "fat." Or a "jogger."

What is a jogger? Why is there this insulting connotation to a term which, to the majority of runners, seems as nebulous as a presidential definition of sex?

The English language has used the term "jog" to talk about movement (running included) since at least the mid-16th century. Arthur Lydiard made "jogging" popular in New Zealand during the early 1960s; fitness and sociability seemed to be the rationale for very easy running (defined by UK-based running coach Mike Antoniades as a pace slower than 10 minutes per mile). Bill Bowerman, coach of Steve Prefontaine, literally "wrote the book" on jogging and its benefits, way back in 1966.

The running philosopher Dr. George Sheehan, in 'Running and Being,' wrote "the difference between a jogger and a runner is an entry blank." If you started running because of an event put on by a running club, or you joined a running club which didn't exist before 1962, you most likely owe your running habit (obsession? routine?), and perhaps a word of thanks, to a jogger.

So where and why does the arrogance toward joggers exist in the running community? From what I've observed it certainly isn't the elite or former elite road racers who harbor such animosity, pity or contempt. One usually needs to look a little farther back in the pack than the elites, a little closer to the point where the bell curve starts to rise. These are the guys/gals who (often) didn't quite win the genetics, training, coaching, recovering or incentivizing lotteries...or didn't buy the ticket...and prefer to tell how good they could have, would have, should have been...and how others will never be.

In their mind, THEY are runners. Everyone else behind them are just joggers.

I've engaged in such arrogant behavior in the past. I've also been called out for it. There are values, assumptions and closed beliefs, bordering on the edge of dogma, which exist in the mind of the "jogger haters."

They (falsely) assume other persons are not exerting the effort they are, therefore they lack the desire and are "children of a lesser god." Boy, was I disabused of this assumption by my loving wife, a long time ago. She took me to task one night after a track workout, saying, "Michael, just because we're running our quarters a minute slower than you are doesn't mean we aren't working hard. Believe me, we are."

The value system also is different. "Real runners" consider their title earned because they are faster on race day. They consider themselves superior to those pitiable souls who are still plodding about on the course as they reach for their first post-race beer. Their medals, beer glasses and coffee mugs were hard-won, and sometimes, considered to be their right: Why go five-deep at a race? It's only the first three in the age group who should be lauded.

Then, there's the near-religious dogmatic belief that one particular training group, training plan, workout, magazine, shoe or nostrum is guaranteed to make a better runner. "If you really wanted to improve as a runner you would do exactly what I do, or train with my group, or do this particular workout. Because you don't I can only guess you are lazy or unmotivated." This point of view has probably been the most difficult for me to get past as a group coach. I have learned over time there are more viable obstacles than strictly:

1. "Parentism," the nearly-two-decade extension of the state of maternity
2. Education
3. Work, and
4. Citizenship.

I've heard excuses, and I've heard rationales over the past six years. After that period of time you smile, shake your head, and continue to promulgate an "open door" policy.

I only hope, on that "invisible door" of my life, there's a sign posted for all to "see:"

Joggers Welcome.

Walking Into The Fog: Shoes For When We Aren't Running

Monday night's workout was my first setback, more-accurately defined as a speed bump, on the road to racing fitness.

There are some runs which just don't feel right from the first strides, but you suck it up and hope things normalize after a mile, or at least a mile and a quarter. Fifteen minutes, two pit stops, and an aching achilles tendon later I got the memo: Stop, silly. You're not helping your cause. I jumped on the elliptical trainer for 30 minutes, then ambled home to dinner.

The first steps on Monday, and even the day after, were achy and tight. Naturally, being the "cause and effect" guy, I asked myself what changes I made in the past few days. It all fell back on a pair of shoes, not the trainers I ran in on Sunday evening, but the loafers I wore last week.

Unless you're one of those persons who races in a very neutral pair of racing flats or wears a "minimalist" shoe, both shoes with very little heel lift, you're probably wearing a shoe for work/recovery which may adversely affect your running. Ladies who run are probably in a worse position than most guys. I've seen stiletto-heeled devices which I know could not have been designed by a woman; no woman in their right mind would EVER wear something that damaging to their feet and legs...in public.

I wore slip-on loafers at work and school for many years until seven years ago, when I ran my second marathon. Climbing and descending stairs after a marathon is painful; a (recovery) shoe with insufficient support only adds insult to injury. In desperation I made a road trip to the San Diego-based brick-and-mortar location of a popular on-line running shoe store. I considered a pair of black leather walking shoes, but decided against them because they STILL looked too much like a running shoe. I eventually picked up a pair of shoes made by Dunham, the parent company of New Balance. Black leather, American-made, and comfortable for standing and walking.

My wife bought her son a pair of shoes from a walking shoe store a couple of years ago, and she suggested I replace mine. Seven years of hiking through parking lots, walking through hallways, and standing in classrooms around the world had taken its toll by that time. Heels wear along the outer corner; midsoles break down, and soles wear thin. While blue jeans seem to improve with age, a good walking shoe - like a running shoe - has a limited lifespan. And, silly me, I didn't want to invest in another pair when I felt I had a few more years left in these.

But one morning you wake up and look in horror at the condition of those "old reliable" shoes. It's the "Come to Jesus" talk, so to speak. Before I made a buyers' decision and replaced this pair I thought I'd take a look at what shoes were recommended by podiatrists.

Darned if the American Association of Podiatric Sports Medicine (AAPSM) didn't go and quit the "shoe recommendation" business in 2010. Yes, there was a short list of walking shoes which they had evaluated, but no single brand or model was tapped by the evaluators as the best shoe...which really shouldn't have surprised me.

I've always recommended visiting with an experienced shoe fitter when it comes to running shoes. Naturally, because we're all unique it stands to reason we all will have different responses or results when using a single particular shoe.

AAPSM recommends individuals be fit by a reputable footwear retailer and seek out a sports medicine podiatrist for concerns on injury or footwear. An individual’s gait pattern, range of motion, biomechanical profile and foot type, injury history, body mass index, weekly miles or hours of training, training goals, training philosophy, and training surface are all important in selecting the right shoe...whether it be one for running or walking.

So, if you're having those aches and pains when you aren't running it might be what's on your feet that's causing it. A visit with a trained professional might save you from the error of "trying this at home." Remember, when you aren't running, you're recovering.

Carry That Weight

"Boy, you're gonna carry that weight, carry that weight a long time..." - "Carry That Weight" (The Beatles, "Abbey Road," 1969)

I dreaded this morning's first-Monday-of-the-month weight check, especially after I saw the photos from the Easter holiday weekend. My friend Randy's commentary was more than correct; I didn't look "bigger," I looked fat.

Okay, maybe not "Gabriel-Iglesias-'fat.'" Perhaps "healthy" or "husky" on his 'fat scale.'

Looking at the photos taken by my wife, I can understand how someone could say 'the camera adds pounds.' I knew the numbers were not going to be good.

As a former "fat" person (5'8", 180 pounds back in 1992 may not seem fat to you, but when your face looks like Garfield the Cat in a photo...), the digital scale at the rear of the gym is the most fearful piece of equipment in the joint.

I stepped on the scale after a 30-minute elliptical trainer session and saw a good sign: Even with workout shoes on I dropped a pound in the past month. Sounds like cause for celebration. Woo hoo hoo!

Now, back to work.

Part of me sometimes asks why the weight has come off in an agonizingly slow manner. It's not that I've denied myself any particular food item in the past nine weeks. Outside of my wife's insistence on packing a healthy lunch for me whenever she can, I suspect it has much to do with the slow, conservative approach I've taken in my return to running:

- In the nine weeks since I started running again, I've increased the duration of my runs by no more than ten percent each week. I started at 20 minutes each run; I'm now at a little under 40 minutes. Barring unforseen circumstances, I hope to be running for 60 minutes in six-to-eight weeks.

- The Sunday morning "long run" has walking added to the week's run duration to make it a total of 60 minutes each trip. I also split the run duration into two parts; this week's 40-minute run was divided into two 20-minute pieces, with a ten minute walk in between.

- My Tuesday and Thursday evening speed workouts, amazingly, are near the intensities they were before the injury. But, quitting time is quitting time even if I feel good. The same goes for my Wednesday night run on the beach; I know exactly when I need to quit running. I slow down to a walk when the timer says I'm done. Ego, or the need to be "top dog," only stands in the way of recovery.

- I still use the treadmill and the elliptical trainer at the gym, but the workouts start easy and progressively increase in intensity. I'll cut the workout short if things are not going well rather than try to fight through an issue.

- Most importantly, I allow my body to recover as much as possible from each workout. That means the "two-a-day" workouts come once every six days, and I'll rest if I feel badly.

My wife handed me a couple of race flyers, which I summarily dismissed as being too soon for my taste. Racing is out of the question until I think my body is ready. Because, the most important thing is not being able to race well, but to be able to run for a long time.

Fitness takes a long time to gain, can be lost quickly, and can be thwarted by a lack of patience. There can be no doubt, running is a sport of pace and patience.

There Are No Bad Foods!

(This is not an illusion. Round Rock Donuts, just outside of Austin, TX, makes a donut which equals anywhere between 6-12 regular ones. The donuts are delicious, but this one is a little bit to the dark side of donut enjoyment.)

Several of my running and fitness friends have asked me to try a couple of high-intensity fitness programs, like Crossfit and Insanity. Unfortunately, it would mean casting something less-important to the side...like sleep. Really, I'd love to give it a whirl, but my dog barely recognizes me when I come through the front door as it is right now. Fitness is fleeting in nature, varigated in its forms, and hard-earned, no matter the form. So, as time progresses, and I age, and struggle to maintain the sort of fitness defined by runners and/or multisport athletes, I become less parochial about running. It's a big world, with room for sweat-fiends (friends?) of all sorts, whether they be triathletes, swimmers, cyclists...

...and yes! Even bowlers.

One can eat and enjoy a particular food item - say, pizza - for years, without ever knowing there are varieties of pie. So, when a variation on a theme, or the original article lands in your lap - in keeping with the pizza analogy, genuine Sicilian-style where the toppings are segregated to a single portion of the pie and the cheese and sauce are lightly applied...or Chicago-style deep dish (like Giordano's or Uno), where a single piece can put you down for the count - you get the chance to marvel, stretch your thinking, and even learn something.

A new addition to a training group brings this same thematic variation. One of my newest athletes, Fawn, is no exception to the rule. She comes to my track workouts with a great attitude, an upbeat demeanor, and a history of doing high-intensity gym workouts like Crossfit and Insanity; one of the first evenings she came out she was doing high knee kicks, bending herself into pretzel-like forms, and exerting much energy. After the first set she learned (the hard way, just like I did!) the cardinal rule of running effort-based workouts, especially the way I run them, and my coach ran them, and his coach... Workout durations vary depending on the coach's mood and the athlete's attitude, so pace yourself.

Fawn told me the other day she hadn't run in a week because of a minor injury, having to do with a stand-up paddleboard and an abundance of adult beverages. She felt quite guilty because the time she normally would have filled with Crossfit, Insanity or running she filled with...well, pizza.

Fortunately, she was talking to a compassionate kind of guy, especially when the topics are injuries and pizza.

"I shouldn't have had the pizza. All that stuff is so bad for you," Fawn lamented.

I responded, "Fawn, there are no bad foods, only bad portions. As long as you don't overindulge on any particular food or drink, you are going to be all right." I then described my approach to pizza: white meat, light cheese, lots of good vegetables, and thin crusts. Of course, my challenge is not killing off more than one-quarter of the pizza at a single sitting.

Portion control is difficult in this day in age, when food and drink items at fast food restaurants are "super-sized" three (or more!) times the amount they were when I was a boy. During my business trip to Austin last week, my co-workers and I discussed "snack-food semantics." 'Why is it,' said one of the group, 'that everything which tastes good but considered bad for your health is described in plural? You never hear someone talk about "cookie," or "cupcake," or "donut," or "potato chip," or "french fry..."' We all laughed, as two of our group each devoured a donut the size of a human head. (The laughing stops when the weight numbers, the cholesterol numbers, the blood pressure numbers, etc., go up.)

There's even such a thing as too much exercise, but there aren't that many people indulging in it. There are no bad workouts, only bad trainers. There are no bad activities, only bad approaches.

There are no bad foods, only bad portions: One donut is fine. As long as it's not the size of your head.

S'weat's New?

Every once in a while I write something that upsets the few - outside of my immediate family and some close friends - who actually take the time to read this blog. Many of them overlook the caveat I shamelessly adapted from the blog of Canadian triathlete & two-time Olympic medalist Simon Whitfield: "Whatever is said here - as with any blog/"tweet"/mountain top announcement - is an opinion, a perspective, a rant, a cry for help; some innocent chest-thumping, painfully-inane humour, useless/useful banter and/or all of the above. Take all that is written within with the amount - grain, shake, shaker or entire box - of salt to make it palatable. Heck, you can even apply that to this disclaimer..." Today's thoughts may do exactly the same. However, these are my thoughts, supported (on many occasions) by reading, research & - at times - trial & error.

My body loves working out twice a day but my joints & tendons are too old to handle the cumulative stress of running on pavement for 60-to-70 miles a week. When I lived in Tampa I could drive 15-to-20 minutes from my home and run on dirt trails. However, I haven't seen trails like those where I now live, & I only get to run trails now when I travel up north. Thank heavens for Jay Yanovich at the gym on the base where I work, as well as my wife, Suzanne.

Jay is an ultrarunner & served as my strength coach in years past - he suggested using the elliptical trainer as a way to get that second workout without beating my achilles' tendons to death. My wife managed fitness centers in her younger days, she also knew the benefits of ellipticals. So when I've done a little too much on the pavement & I'm eating ibuprofen like candy I take a couple of days to do the elliptical at our local gym.

There are some people in this world who have high sweat rates. I'm one of them. The easiest warm-up leading into a workout or race can have me soaked within five minutes. When the comments begin, I often inform the source, "I sweat when I think." Naturally, when a person with a high sweat rate works out indoors on an exercise machine, all that sweat stays in one confined area. And when the workout is over the majority of my cool-down before going home is taken up by toweling down the machine & the area immediately surrounding.

The other day, the gym owner stopped to talk to me; I had just started my workout on one of the machines. "Mike, some folks have commented to me about your dedication & your effort, but they complain that you leave the machine soaking wet when you're done." I told him, "Ed, I wipe off the machine after every workout, believe me. I know what my sweat can do to machines...and electronics..." I - pun intended - stewed in my own juices for the 40 minutes of my workout, then walked to the office to get Ed's attention. I then showed him my exact post-workout wipe-down of the elliptical trainer. When I finished, I pointed to the footpads, which were still damp, & said, "This morning, the footpads were a little less damp than that, but everything else I showed you was the way I just wiped." Ed smiled, shook his head, & said: "Yes, I guess this is a gym, right?" The tone of his voice told me we were on the same page of sheet music.

I guess people look as critically at the way I work on machines as I look at the way they, um, don't work on the machines.

I marvel at elliptical trainer users who never get the RPM count above 60 per minute. I also marvel at users who never get their heart rate any higher than 50 percent of their maximum rate. And what really gets me spinning like a top is the user who decides to use the reverse pedaling workout. Really? Do you, when walking or running, go that slowly? Do you spend 15 to 20 minutes of your life continually walking or jogging in reverse? Unless you're an offensive lineman or a defensive back for the Saints I can't see any need for going in reverse on an elliptical trainer.

The objective of an elliptical trainer is to simulate the act of running without the potentially damaging impact. The most efficient runners, according to research done by Jack Daniels, Ph.D., & other coaches, have an average footstrike of 160-to-180 steps per minute...that's 80-to-90 RPM on the elliptical trainer.

I know the objective of most elliptical users is to burn fat rather than to maintain or build cardiovascular fitness, but most fat burning programs on the elliptical trainer are assuming a heart rate at least 50 percent of maximum heart rate. Ellipticals, for dinged-up runners like "yours truly," are used both to burn off that excess fat & to maintain or build the cardio. In that case, getting to 50 percent is not so much the issue...cardio enhancement needs a heart rate closer to 70 or 80 percent of maximum.

So, if you see me sweating all over an elliptical trainer, don't worry: I promise to wipe down everything that might potentially be touched by your skin. Now, let's talk about this time you're wasting on the machine, shall we?

Slow Ride...Take It Easy

The conditions we've endured this summer (thanks to a wicked El Niño) have made training very entertaining. Coaches - if they believe there is one present - are often accustomed to looking for the location & quantity of the silver lining within the dark cloud of the athlete. It could be a short-term body habitus change or a change in a fitness level...sometimes both issues at the same time, if the coach works with a female athlete. In those sorts of situations the best thing anyone can hear is the need for patience, & the true hope that given enough time things will get better.

Of course, it's hard when the coach is the person in question losing confidence in their fitness. There are coaches who are self-coached, but sometimes everyone needs an ear to bend when the days are a little less than sunny. When it comes to swimming I have a couple of good friends/coaches I can turn to. As for running...I'm more likely to talk to my wife; she seems to have a good perspective on what I'm doing wrong since she hears me provide advice and counsel to others. I don't always like to hear what she has to say, but she's more likely going to initiate a plan of action to fix my problem.

So, rather than beat myself needlessly over the conditions & the fitness I decided to adapt my training plan. I figured, rather than try to accelerate a marathon training plan by two or three weeks in order to run a local marathon I had not registered for yet, I'd spin the dial all of the way back to base-building...something I could have done from mid-April until early June rather than taking so much time off. So yesterday I got on the treadmill and ran six miles at ten-minute per mile pace...very slow for me. It felt quite good when I finished but the real lessons of running slowly hit home at five o'clock this morning.

First, if your shoes are old, beat-up or beyond their best days, running slowly will make you realize the fact. And the fact? What else? It's time to spend money on another pair.

Second, & this is more of an opinion than anything, you find out how efficiently - or inefficiently - you run, form-wise. Shortening your stride, which works well on the roadways, isn't so effective on a treadmill. So there is such a thing as a too-slow pace on a treadmill. I learned yesterday I was probably a solid minute-per-mile too slow...at probably the last minute of the run. One minute of the "right" dead-slow (easy) pace certainly does NOT make up for the previous 59 where you were at the wrong pace.

The nice thing is, out of the whole situation...you live...you learn. And I got some very easy miles out of the process. Really it was nice to run for an hour without sweat flying all over, the ability to really enjoy the music and look out the window at folks coming into and leaving from the gym.

Now comes the adjustments...the way my back felt this morning it might involve a chiropractor.