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.

Staying The Course During The Perfect Storm

Betsy called me one afternoon, not long after a note landed in my e-mail.  When I get both e-mail and a phone call it's usually something important, dramatic or entertaining.  This particular call was a blend of all three categories.

"Do you have any idea what the USA Track and Field rule is about runners going off a race course?  I know we've always used the old 'it's the runner's responsibility to know the course' dictum, but I can't seem to find any rule."

When it comes to triathlon I can cite the USA Triathlon competition rule to chapter-and-verse level.  But USATF doesn't have a large presence around here, save for the fine folks of the Road Running Technical Council.  Those are the people who tell me what to tell race directors who want race courses measured.

So, I ran back into my living room library and pulled my gently-used copy of the USATF Competition Rules.  Once you get to the mid-point of the book - Rule 65, section 7 - USATF talks about what happens when racers leave the course: "65.7a. No competitor, after leaving the track or course, shall be allowed to rejoin a race either for the purpose of gaining a place or to pace or to assist another competitor." 65.7c then states: "In any track event of 20,000 meters or more, or in any road race, a competitor may leave the road or track with the permission and under the control of a judge or other authorized official, provided that by going off or returning to the course the athlete does not lessen the distance to be covered."

So, as long as the racer doesn't cut the course - and is supervised by an official or judge - then leaving the course is only a little inconvenience.  It's not like the world, or the rest of the race field, will hit the "Pause" button until you return to the course. In the case of most recreational runners this is not an earth-shaking situation. It stands to reason that 99 percent of the time we're going to follow the runner directly in front of us...and hope like mad the entire lot of them didn't screw up. It's happened before; naturally, it's another good story.

However, for the elite runners, the fast guys and gals looking for a medal and/or a paycheck, that's the equivalent of working on a PowerPoint presentation for two-or-three hours, only to have the file go "toes-up" minutes before the meeting is to start.  (I've had that before.)

Frustration only starts to describe ones' emotions. Train like mad for a potentially-nice pay day, and have a police officer turn the wrong direction or a course marshal "fall asleep at the switch?"  Churchillian blood, toil, sweat and tears.  For naught.

It's one of the reasons I took up course measurement. It was either that or spend thirty minutes at the packet pick-up begging for a course map, then studying every little detail. I absolutely needed to know the direction, the turns and the finish line...or at least where it was supposed to be...on race day. An extra 800 meters during a 5K will teach you that lesson.

Every athlete I have trained has heard me talk about the particulars of their upcoming race course, if I'd raced it in the past, to the smallest detail. For a short distance race, such as the 5,000-meters on the roads, it can mean a couple of extra seconds toward a personal best time. In the case of a half-marathon or longer, it can mean the difference between injury and a good day. Especially if you know the specifics of the terrain.

USATF Competition Rule 134.1 states: "Running courses shall be adequately marked at strategic points to keep the competitors on course. Each turn and intersection shall be clearly marked in such a way that there will be no doubt as to the direction the runner should go to stay on course."

As a course director for run portions of multisport events, I believe there's not enough a race director can do or place; whether it is chalk or paint on the asphalt, cones or barriers in the road, signs along the shoulders, and obnoxious human beings. Multiple back-ups are sometimes necessary to make certain nobody turns too early or wrong.

Of course, there are differences between road racing and multisport, especially when it comes to running. A set of headphones at a USAT-sanctioned event may earn at least one, and up to three, penalties, depending on the vigilance of the transition workers and referees. USATF strongly discourages their use for safety reasons, to include the ability to hear volunteer instructions.

The perfect storm of a half-informed lead driver, a briefly-distracted course marshal and a slightly under-marked course can ruin the runner's day. A study of the course map and a pre-drive of the course can make for a good "umbrella."

Taper Time - Overeat, Overtrain, or Over-Plan?

A friend of mine shot me a note the other morning:

"Michael - everything I'm reading about the marathon taper (3 wk) says do NOTHING in week three. Do you have any particular suggestions for this week? My marathon is Sunday. My last run was a half marathon at marathon pace this Saturday past."

From my own marathon training foibles, most know I consider the actual act of standing at the starting line of a marathon a major accomplishment. If the volume of training during the "typical" 18-to-24-week plan doesn't injure the self-coached runner, the "traditional" three-weeks of insanity known by many marathoners as "taper madness" can derail the marathon performance.

The biggest problem with the three-week taper is that many runners either overeat or over-train, mainly because they have too much time on their hands. Neither one is good.

While the volume of mileage in the taper ideally should ultimately decrease - some like to bring the mileage down to 65 percent of the baseline, others like to bring it as low as 50 percent...or a little lower. But the mileage which needs to be subtracted from the total volume needs to come more from the easy, peasy, lemon squeezy, not from the "quality" speed work. It's still important to do short efforts which are faster than marathon goal pace during the taper.

Which workout is going to be "just enough" for the runner doing 50-to-60 miles a week for the previous 18 weeks?

1. One-or-two miles at long training run pace, four-to-six 400 meter repeats at a pace 10-to-20 seconds faster than their marathon goal pace, with full (or 400-meter walk) recovery, followed by a mile at the long training run pace.

2. Five miles at long training run pace.

I believe workout number one is more likely to make the runner a little bit tired but not completely wipe them out. The mind is satisfied by the effort. Workout number two, after a bunch of 50-mile weeks, is one that quickly turns into "a few extra miles."

With all that time, it's surprising that many runners do not think about race execution. Rather than consider where they'll stay, what they'll do, when and where they'll eat, what they'll wear, they allow way too many factors which can adversely affect the race to be out of their control. How many runners mindlessly wander through the race expo who could have spent that time preparing shoes, socks, clothing, BodyGlide, nutrition, and getting off their feet? Got a "Plan B" for that restaurant you were going to do dinner at? Now you have a 45-minute wait, a surly waiter, and a poorly-prepared meal. How about a pacing plan? What's the guarantee against going out with the herd during the first five kilometers...and paying for it at mile 18?

The two-or-three weeks which lead into a target event, used prudently, can allow the self-coached runner's body to heal, and the self-coached runner's mind to prepare for the day.

Small World After All

I wanted to get out of my system some thoughts related to running, fitness and travel, more or less, inspired by or experienced during my visit to Singapore.

First: Not only does (as Jefferson Airplane and Crosby, Stills and Nash remind us) everybody smile, but some even speak the same language. Even more amazingly, some out there even look like me...or at least like some on-line newspaper editors. People have asked over the years whether I had a twin living somewhere else in the world. While I'm flattered, okay...I'm not that good-looking, I don't think I'd want to see another person who looks exactly like myself. Well, maybe someone who looks like me, but they better have a personality.

So it seems everybody apparently has a twin - or our conscience makes us see someone who looks like someone we know. Are they a 'doppelganger' or evil twin? I'm not certain.

Even funnier is when we travel thousands of miles away from home and hearth, only to run into someone we already know. And didn't expect to see.

Suzanne and I were enjoying a cup of green tea at a food stand in the Chinatown neighborhood of Singapore. We had several hours to kill before our hotel room was to be ready, and there wasn't a Starbucks in sight. We're both fans of people watching, and the Chinatown district is definitely a target-rich environment for such activities.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating. Walking past, in t-shirt and jeans, was a guy who looked strangely like one of my school instructors. He had gone on to another assignment, so it wasn't too much of a stretch for him to be somewhere else in the world at a particular place and time.

"Pheabus!"

As Gary sat down to chat with us, he said he had the same 'no, that can't be...' thought as he walked by. Naturally it's fun to have a bit of "old home week" without talking about what was going on at "home." But Gary and I always had that sort of rapport during the two years we worked together; my office was always open for him to come by and chat about any topic under the sun, work included when necessary. He told Suzanne it was one of the things he valued about our working relationship; the fact I didn't talk about work or the service...or even running...all of the time.

What causes single-mindedness? For some persons it's perhaps a devotion to a particular cause. Others take up an interest in order to fill a space which opened up in their lives because of the departure or loss of another interest. Occasionally you get the contrarian out there who's bound and determined to focus on one thing just because they know it's going to upset everyone around them.

Occasionally I've been accused of a focus solely on running. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The overwhelming majority of my friends are runners, swimmers or triathletes; fitness and exercise might be the common bond between us, but the closest relationships are with the friends who have some common ground outside of running. Those who eat, breathe, and sleep a single endeavor are perhaps a little dull, at least in the minds of the rest of the world.

Take some time to look for your "twin."

Your Ego Is Not Your Amigo

Brett and I have known each other since the summer we first started working for the Navy. I saw him win his first age group award and witnessed his phone call to his wife (he's the guy I advised to not downplay his accomplishment) Meredith in Alabama. So, I guess you can say we go back a few miles.

He sent me a running question the other day:

"I'm starting to experience some pain on the outside of my right knee after I run. For example, I did eight miles this morning and was fine while running. When I got home, the pain really started kicking in just walking around the house. The pain seems to occur at the point when I step forward with my right foot. Any ideas? It has been happening for a few weeks now and seems to come and go. I did six miles on Monday evening and didn't have any trouble. Thanks for any help. I definitely don't want to mess up my knee."

When I sent my response back to Brett, I initially suspected iliotibial band syndrome because of the location and intermittent nature of the pain. The only other overuse injury I can think of would be patellofemoral syndrome, or "runner's knee", which would have the pain at the lower margin of the knee; the IT band would be at the upper or outer margin of the knee.

Either way, Brett has an overuse injury.

He later revealed to me he went from running five to running ten miles at a time over a four-week span, which came from training with a triathlon training group at their local YMCA. "Guess I was trying a little too hard and too quick to hang with the 'A Group'", was his lament.

When an overuse injury such as IT band syndrome, achilles tendinosis, plantar fasciitis, patellofemoral syndrome comes to pass, most of the root causes are these:

1. Old, worn-out, or improper running shoes. If the runner cannot say how long (in time or miles) they have run in a particular pair of shoes they might have run in them too long. Sometimes an old pair of shoes will give fair warning by "smelling dead," or the runner might suffer from some aches and pains in the ankles, feet, knees or lower back. Naturally, the remedy would be to get into a pair of shoes which best fits the foot type. Most experienced runners know what kind of shoes work best for them. Once in a while a particular model of shoe changes construction or materials, so it doesn't hurt (no pun intended) to have a "short list" of acceptable shoe models. The major running magazines do annual shoe reviews which can make the search more simple, or a running speciality store can point the individual runner to the "short list."

2. Significant changes in training volume, terrain, or surface. A short-term (or even a long-term) business trip or a new training group can wreak havoc on a training cycle. Most good training schedules aren't necessarily (and probably shouldn't be) written in stone. I've discussed with my coach/advisor about synchronizing my workouts with my coaching; some times solitary training sessions are necessary to train at the proper (read: easier) intensity. Look closely at the recent changes, then subtract them for about three weeks. Why three weeks? That's how long it takes for the body to benefit completely from a change in training volume or intensity, or the minimum time it takes for a low-level overuse injury to begin healing.

And when adding distance/duration to a workout, the "ten percent every three weeks" rule of thumb is best. When talking ten percent, the addition of time/distance should be spread across the training week as much as possible. For example:

OLD WEEK - 30 miles/week

- Sunday - 6 miles

- Monday - Rest

- Tuesday - 6 miles

- Wednesday - 6 miles

- Thursday - 6 miles

- Friday - Rest

- Saturday - 6 miles

NEW WEEK - 33 miles/week

- Sunday - 7 miles

- Monday - Rest

- Tuesday - 6.5 miles

- Wednesday - 6.5 miles

- Thursday - 6.5 miles

- Friday - Rest

- Saturday - 6.5 miles

I've met runners who tacked the ten percent on the Sunday run, which in the example above would increase the volume of that day by 50 percent and increase the longest run of the week to more than 20 percent of the week's volume. Neither one of those are a good idea. If there's a time crunch during the week the additional miles could be split between Saturday and Sunday, but even then there would be the risk of adding too much stress too soon.

And, regardless, cambered roads and hill running can wreak havoc on the unprepared runner. Stress injuries abound from too much "new" (surface, distance, or intensity), too soon.

3. Muscle weakness, especially in the calves, gluteus medius, and abdomen. When a runner has weak muscles or muscle imbalance it puts undue strain on the rest of the "drivetrain." I sent Brett a link to a YouTube video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5RC7VH3bEB4) with some exercises to strengthen his glutes and stretch the IT band. Six of ten runners who make these changes can recover from a low-level overuse injury in as little as three weeks, with the remainder recovering in six weeks. There are those cases (this coach included) where recovery can take up to six months; more of a compliance and patience issue than anything else.

Brett sent a reply which ended with:

"I signed up for a ten-miler this coming Sunday. I want to finish it, then my plan is to go back to six miles and see how I do. If I still am having problems, I'll keep backing off until I stop having problems and may look into seeing a physical therapist. Once I figure out where my baseline is, I'll start slowly increasing my distance again, only this time at a reasonable pace."

When it comes to training, and especially when it comes to recovering from an overuse injury: Your ego is not your amigo.

Feeling Positive About The Negatives

(Sandy - 1st Female Overall, Chris - 1st Master's Male, & MB after the Jingle Bell 10K)

So the plan was for 14 miles this weekend. However, my friend Scott (a.k.a. Knaves) asked if I was going to come over to Ft. Walton Beach, FL for the Arthritis Foundation Jingle Bell 10K. The last time I ran this race - seven years ago - it was 30 degrees colder & 20 miles per hour windier on the day. My friend Sandy was trying to PR at the 10k; her boyfriend Chris, & Brian, another friend, were going to pace her. Chris & Brian left her hanging in the wind for the last two miles, so I ran her in. She got her PR, which lasted for seven years, (which she reminded me the other day!), & I had a great time strutting my stuff in the chill. Of course, I was very (5K & 10K) race-healthy then. Now, working toward a marathon, with questionable achilles' tendons, it might have been a tad stupid to race. But, Suzanne & I like Knaves, & the race was late enough in the morning, so...

Chris warmed up with Suzanne & me before Sandy, Brian, Chris & I jogged the first mile of the course. He said to me: 'you going to do 39 today?' Of course, my answer was, 'Not today. This is part of the long run for the weekend. Just going out to have some fun.' Once the race started, it definitely was fun, all right.

I normally blow past 90-percent of the field at the first mile, after which it's no-man's-land for the remainder of the race; the studs leave me way behind & I'm strung out in between the really good runners & the fairly good ones. But this time, I went easy the first mile with Knaves, then slowly started to ratchet up the pace. Amazingly, I picked off runners here & there on the course between mile three & four. One guy said to me as I went by at mile four, 'nice kick.' I wasn't too certain about the tactics of the day, even at that point; I smiled (Maybe that was a grimace; they both look alike from a distance.) & told him so.

Passing a couple of greyhounds (Real greyhounds - they had a dog walk at the same time.) at the fifth mile, & all I could think was 'how much longer can I do this?' It was probably good I couldn't read my heart rate monitor, only my pace; I probably would have backed off. Fortunately for me there was still about three runners hanging out in front of me; I couldn't tell how cute the female was, but she was definitely working the pace up there. By the time I got to her, & then the sixth mile, I was running a pace about five seconds per mile slower than my half-marathon performance time, & about 20 seconds per mile slower than my "healthy" 10K pace.

Even if I hadn't won my age group I was very pleased with the effort, especially three weeks after my half-marathon meltdown. To top it all off, Suzanne took second place in her age group. It's not often when two Bowens score hardware, so when we do it's cause for celebration.

Now for the rest the story:

I'm going to make a confession. I have a nasty tendency to look at things & see 'opportunities for improvement.' Rarely, if ever, have I said to myself while hanging out with friends, athletes, loved ones & assorted sweaty lunatic friends: 'dude, today you ran a perfect race.' Maybe all of twice in the past decade of racing the 'perfect race' has happened; a PR at the Azalea Trail Run 10K in Mobile, & a consistent pace at a hot, early summer 5K here at home.

While I've always sought out & valued consistency above almost any other quality in life, the only thing which I've considered more difficult (the negativity most every racer seeks!) to accomplish is negative split racing. Why is this so difficult to accomplish?

First, most runners don't exercise discipline & restraint while training. They're more likely to run EVERY workout at the same effort; so rather than following the hard day/easy day, or even the hard day/easy day/easier day dictum, it's (I kid you not, I have a friend who does this:) 5K, every day, all-out. At least until they become injured, but that's another story.

Second, many runners who have the physical fitness don't quite have the emotional or mental fitness to race negative. These are the friends who, when you ask to them about their goal time before the race, will tell you they want to go out at a particular pace. When the horn goes off, however, it's a completely different story. The first mile herd instinct & adrenaline pitches the best laid plans in the rubbish, leaving them to suffer for the last two (or more) miles of the race.

Third, the runners who are smart enough to go out easy early misjudge how much faster they should increase the pace over time; there's either too much 'gas in the tank' when they reach the finish, or they begin to fade in the last mile. Racing negative splits is a trial-and-error process; once you do it right it will be your Holy Grail of sorts.

What do you need to race negative splits?

I cannot over-stress the benefit of training runs at different intensity levels, with & without the aid of GPS, heart rate monitors & running watches. Why do I say 'without' as well as 'with?' You never know when you're going to show up on race day WITHOUT your running watch or your GPS (which almost happened this weekend!), or your battery dies, or the course is marked poorly...so know how a particular pace on the road or track 'feels' to the legs, heart & lungs.

Here's an interesting idea: Toe the line with a solid racing plan - this particular intensity or pace for a particular section of the course, pick up the pace to a higher intensity after this point, & then begin to really push at this point, etc. - follow it as much as possible. Trust your plan; don't go out with the herd. If your plan is solid the odds are very high you're going to catch & probably pass them before it's all over.

And, most importantly: Don't place any stressful or unrealistic expectations on yourself. Face it, the vast majority of us are paying money to terrorize squirrels & cats (followed by socializing!) on a weekend morning when most of our co-workers are still sleeping. For a very small, less-than-one-percent of the population, what SHOULD BE fun & games for you is BIG PRESENTATION DAY at the office for them.

If it's not fun, you probably should be looking for something else to do, right?

Ticker Time - Heart Rate Monitors For Run Training

An old friend of mine (now a tae kwon do instructor in Texas) asked the other day how I felt about heart rate monitors. Naturally, his take is from a strength, speed & power standpoint, so his question was framed from the viewpoint of a guy who looks at running or aerobic activity as "cardio." Like I mentioned about a month ago ("S'weat's New?", October 23, 2010), if you intend to use a cardio machine to help melt adipose your heart rate needs to be anywhere from 50-to-60 percent of maximum heart rate. Cardio fitness requires a level of intensity somewhat closer to 75 percent of maximum heart rate.

If you've ever been on a cardio machine at your local YMCA or fitness studio which has seen its better days, the odds might be against you getting an accurate heart rate reading. Working out at the wrong intensity can be as effective as dieting without portion control; too much (food) can be as bad as too little. I like using heart rate monitors for run training, both for encouraging an athlete to run at an easier pace during training runs when the effort ideally should be lower, as well as for tying a number to a feeling of intensity. Most experienced athletes, I've found, can provide a good ballpark figure of where their heart rate is based on the intensity level of their activity. The heart rate monitor can also help determine whether more recovery time is needed after a hard workout; if the resting heart rate first thing in the morning is as few as five beats higher than normal (depending on the baseline) it might be a signal to forego that early morning jog.

I've played around with, purchased, used, beat the daylights out of, & discarded half a dozen or more different heart rate monitors, including units by some of the major players in the game, namely Nike, Polar, Suunto and Garmin. Depending on the information an athlete needs, their comfort level with technology, brand of computer, willingness or desire to slice-and-dice (export) data, & level of sticker shock they're willing to undergo, there is a model from a maker which may fit nearly every athlete.

One of the first monitors I owned was the Suunto G6, which was pretty much a high-end monitor, with a frightening level of expandability; I purchased an ANT+ compatible footpod which tracked speed & distance by a battery-powered accelerometer. The G6 could do nearly everything imaginable, save for order me a beer at the end of a training run, but it could & would not (at that time) play nicely with my Apple MacBook computer. Since then, Suunto has developed an on-line, fairly user-friendly workout tracking program called MovesCount, but with the MacBook I had to purchase a Windows emulator program to crunch my workout numbers. I had difficulties with the G6 receiver unit's battery life, compounded by minimal U.S.-based technical support (California, if I rightly recall...). Since that time, Suunto has expanded its presence in the U.S., especially in the major metropolitan areas, & may still have a package deal with Carmichael Training Systems, a company owned by Lance Armstrong's former coach Chris Carmichael.

Most good-quality HR monitors will tell you how long you were exercising in a particular target heart rate range. Others will tell you how long you spent in particular heart rate zone. If you want to know whether your workout was effective or if you're on the edge of overtraining, again, look to Suunto monitors. The monitor & accompanying software programs will show you progress over time and the training effect of the workout you completed - measured by Exercise (Post) Oxygen Consumption (EPOC). EPOC measures the "calorie burn" which persists after the workout is completed...kind of like measuring how long the hood of your car will scald your bare legs should you decide to sit on it in shorts after driving all day.

If you decide to keep a HR monitor for a long period of time (read: send it in for repairs when it breaks or the batteries die) I still consider products by Nike & Garmin to be the best bet, since they have regional service centers. When I owned the Suunto there was only one place - San Diego, I think - to send the monitor for TLC.

Nike's C8 monitor had software & components which were easy to use & fairly user-friendly, with on-line "set-and-forget" (or "set-and-regret") functionality. I could also use the strap on spin bikes & Life Fitness equipment at the local YMCA; I never thought there was a downside to having a non-coded transmitter strap, but my wife was always a little less-than-enthused when her elliptical trainer workout would suddenly change intensity...it would pick up my heart rate & adjust accordingly. But...get that thing near any amount of water & you could guarantee a bad day...a guy who sweats a great deal should never use electronics which are not waterproof.

My most recent acquisition is the Garmin Forerunner 310 XT, which is a GPS unit with ANT+ compatible footpod for treadmill running, ANT+ wireless cadence meter for power estimation on the bicycle, & has, in my humble opinion, the most comfortable HR strap I've used. Oh, & I guess I should mention since it's built specifically for triathlon, it's waterproof. It has a battery life of about 20 hours, but how many people wear their HR receiver the entire day?

My wife will use gymnasium cardio machines, & keeps track of how hard she works by the pulse pads, but she absolutely hates the thought of having anything rub her chest or wrist...it irritates her (She rarely wears her ring, but we don't mind...) to no end. Even the Mio, which uses two finger pads on the monitor, was out of the question...definitely no good for cycling. I almost had her talked into trying out a Polar HR system a couple of years ago; it seems as though enough women complained about how difficult it was to wear a sports brassiere AND a heart rate monitor strap. The fine folks at adidas developed a running top which provided a modicum of support & a means for attaching the chest strap. But, as my wife likes to remind me, support wear is a personal thing, & one size does not fit all...it only fits one size.

Back to Polar, I've seen mostly their more inexpensive HR monitors, which tell the HR. Since my spin class had a bunch of these & my most recent HR monitor is not Polar compatible, I ended up using their strap. Functional, simple. Friends of mine have higher-end units: Polar is good at providing products with incremental increases in quality, features (and price). Their highest-end HR set-ups will tell you nearly everything you would need to know, work with programs like TrainingPeaks, & can help the individual athlete set up training plans.

But, if you're not going to figure out what that flashing number means you only have a couple more ounces of plastic, glass & gadgetry strapped to your body. Like I said before, the data is only as good as what you do with it, & what decisions you make because of it.

Get Up And Do It Again, Amen...

(PROBABLY SOMEWHERE NEAR FIRST YELLOW MARKER BUOY, UPPER CENTER)

I received an e-mail (one of many from friends and family, wondering what the hell happened and whether I was all right) the day after IM Florida from a friend of mine, Mark Sortino. Mark's an experienced triathlete; he's finished multiple IM events & qualified for his first trip to Kona at IM Louisville last August. He's one of the smarter tri-geeks I've met in the past few years. He has never hesitated to provide advice, counsel, a pat on the back or a dusting off of the bike shorts to less-experienced wanna-be tri-geeks like me. He's a F.I.S.T.-certified fitter who does bike fitting on the weekends at the local running emporium; our initial 90-minute fit session turned into a two-plus-hour discussion on nutrition, technique & the mental side of triathlon.

Mark's blog is always insightful & a lot of fun to read, because he's not talking about the nuts & bolts of training & racing all the time. He likes to look at the lifestyle part of being a tri-geek, too. When I say lifestyle I mean the balance of work, family, training & competition. He's got it fairly down pat from what I can tell, & has no problem putting things into proper perspective. The video clips taken by his wife Andi after he finished Kona said much more than thousands of words of written commentary; the mix of joy in achieving something that very few people do (complete IM Hawaii) & disappointment in not being able to give the performance he really wanted to on the day (because you never know if you'll make it there again) was palpable.

So when Mark's e-mail came into my inbox I took the time to really read through it. Not only did he knock the dust off my bike shorts but provided a little nudge (in the direction of my swim gear, mind you!) to get back on the horse that threw me.

It's hard to think about the existential 'now what?' when you're five or six hours out from sitting on the tailgate of an EMS truck on the beach with a tech worrying over you with a heart rate monitor, pulse oximeter & stethoscope. The perspective doesn't exist there...add a few more hours of hearing Mike Reilly welcome someone else into the IM family as you're going to pick up your crap in transition. That's something which hurts like a punch in the ribs. Even then the perspective is still far down the road.

I stood out on the run course outside the Mellow Mushroom, after my beer & salad, watching the athletes come through on the first - some on their second - loop. I had the privilege to see my friend & (part-time) business/training partner come through the first loop:

Steve - 'What are you doing here? What happened?'

MB - 'Bad day, dude. Now, go finish this thing!'

The perspective usually comes as a result of the same cycle a'la Elisabeth Kubler-Ross' death/dying/grief cycle: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. Kubler-Ross' stages don't progress in any particular sequence, which is a good thing...'cause I think I shot right past Bargaining. IM doesn't allow you to bargain after you are on the shore, the side of the road, or in a medical tent/emergency room.

No. There is Bargaining: 'Get me out of this alive & I'll do it right next time.'

Denial: 'I cannot believe I busted my chops for all these months & still got my butt kicked.'

Anger: 'I hate myself for not putting in more open water time. I still can't swim!'

Depression: 'I don't want to be near anyone; I'm ashamed of my failure.'

Acceptance: 'IM is not easy. If it were everyone would do it. This year wasn't your time.'

The beginning of the closure from my bad day came as Steven finished. His family, my wife & I were standing at the beginning of the finish chute & cheered like crazy people. Hey, the company had a fifty-percent success rate on the day.

I had a brief thirty-minute temper tantrum the next morning as I saw all the finisher shirts/hats/acoutrement & thought to myself: 'dude, that should have been you.' But it was balanced with the ER physician's comment: 'you probably made the right decision today.'

Today. It all boils down to today. And today. And today. And today.

So, I feel much better today. I've got a few hundred more of those on the way to the next stop on the journey.

And maybe I'll have a better today in the Gulf of Mexico on a November morning two years from today.

Thanks, Mark. Thanks also to my long-suffering wife, Suzanne...you didn't panic or freak out through the whole ordeal. We'll do it right this next time.

...Months Which End In "R"

Steven and Beverly arrived yesterday afternoon and checked in to their condo...which is way down along the run course. For pre-athlete meeting dinner, we all decided to meet at a local oyster bar. I'm happy to say the oysters were delicious, even though I had only three...maybe four.

Naturally, there was nothing new in the athlete meeting a seasoned triathlete probably doesn't know...drafting rules, penalty tent locations, warnings against littering and public...well, let's just say I won't be trying to make a new meaning out of the old phrase void where prohibited by law. Good stuff to hear, if nothing else, to remind you what you're really here for.

Suzanne and I went for a very easy jog the other morning on the front three miles of the run course, which weaves (now there's an apt description!) through the rows of condos and through the residential neighborhoods along Front Beach. That sense of deja vu, all over again. The IM FL run does the Gulf Coast Half course twice, how nice. Of course, without about 10-to-15 degrees of excess temperature as compared to May.

Roch (Frey) and Heather (Fuhr) sighting on the road which goes northeast (the other side) of Signal Hill Golf Course. I kind of smiled and waved...and they did back...after which I told Suzanne, 'Roch and Heather...' Yeah, like she's going to know who the heck those folks were. Of course she would...she reads my magazines. She knows the guys in the goofy costumes.

But you still have to do the miles, no matter how nice the weather is.

Outside Looking In

When I mentioned my 2009 goal of completing an Ironman 70.3 & an Ironman event to my running friends, one of the first questions with which they responded came down to 'so, what time do you think it will take for you to complete the Ironman?' 'Frankly,' I told them, 'all I want to do is finish, but it would be nice to complete it in...'

At that point I stopped, partly because I was trying to calculate what would pass for a good day doing 140.6 miles by taking my crappy day of 70.3 & multiplying times two. But, remembering my hubris, I also told them I'd take the entire 17 hours if I had to, all that mattered was to finish & hear Mike Reilly bellow out the affirmation: "You Are An Ironman!" After that I can have a beer, take the time to determine which set of muscles hurt the least; those muscles will the ones over which tattoo number two will be placed. Hubris hurt me worse during my past two marathons than the tattoo I got to remind me to respect the distance. I'm not counting my first marathon; I knew nothing about running a marathon & it showed on race day. But I survived, & that's what was important on the day:

- I participated in my second marathon against the advice & counsel of my own coach. I spoke very lightly about my chances of qualifying for Boston, based on the (5K/10K racing-focused) training I accomplished that autumn. I did two long (16-mile) runs which left me susceptible to the worst case of flu I had ever experienced...two weeks out from race day. I ran (I think) a 7:00-15/mile pace for the first 13.1 miles, which put me 5-7 minutes ahead of Boston Marathon qualifying pace. The next five miles were where the wheels began to fall off, with the game over moment coming at mile 19. I screwed up the hydration plan & was passed by the 3:20 pace group six miles out from the finish. The 40-mile drive was painful, as well as the ilitibial band friction syndrome I suffered from over the next year. Brought a whole new meaning to the term walk of shame.

- My most recent marathon experience saw smarter training; I followed an adapted Brooks-Hanson's plan & focused on the hydration/nutrition necessary to make the marathon a good day. However, a poor choice of training shoes (when a running store owner/sub-3:00 marathoner tells you he wouldn't run a marathon in the shoes you chose, you made a poor choice) brought on overuse injuries which never really went away come race morning. I followed my heart rate monitor for the first 13.1 miles, hydrated religiously every 15-20 minutes, & had eight minutes to play with at that point, when the training injuries came back to haunt me. My achilles' tendon began to swell because I adjusted my stride to deal with bilateral calf cramps which hobbled me. I lost the eight-minute cushion bymile 20 & had to make a Hobson's Choice of three options:

- - Push the pace to make Boston qualifying time, & risk serious/permanent injury.

- - Walk the last ten kilometers to the finish, & live to fight another day.

- - Drop out, take the did not finish, & live to fight another day.

I say all that to write this Memo to Self: If the marathon is a humbling distance, then triathlon of nearly any distance is even more humbling due to the breadth of disciplines. Performance gains in one discipline often come at the expense of hard-earned gains of one or both of the other two. If the sprint distance hurts X much at the end, the intermediate distance do not hurt X-times-two; the half-iron distance do not hurt X-times-four, & the iron distance sure as hell does not hurt X-times-eight. It's probably more than that.

Multisports.com coaches Paul Huddle & Roch Frey said it best this month in their article in Triathlete magazine, from which I (shamelessly) quote (emphases are mine):

"...Madam Pele....hears & sees everything. She doesn't take kindly to overconfidence & disrespect....Ironman was born in Hawai'i &, therefore, the rules of aloha & kapu extend globally....we encourage all first-time Ironman athletes...to approach their first attempt at the distance with a healthy heaping of humility."

"...The No. 1 goal that every athlete should have when toeing the line for an Ironman is to finish. What are some other goals worth shooting for? Let's list a few: 2. Finish while still standing. 3. Finish while still standing & smiling. 4. Finish while still standing & smiling & in good enough physical condition to bypass the medical tent for food & a massage. 5. Finish while still standing, smiling, bypassing the medical tent & remaining gainfully employed. Finish while still standing, smiling, bypassing the medical tent, remaining gainfully employed & married."

"Look, we're already at No. 6 & there's been no mention of times and/or placing..."

Hardest part about the preparation for Ironman so far isn't so much the distances necessary to be accomplished in training, but partly of getting one's head wrapped around the big, honking numbers of distance & time that will be traversed. I have several friends (male & female) who are Ironmen; several provide sea stories about what they did/do in training, what worked & what failed. But, with very few exceptions, many Ironmen don't tell everyone they've done one. There might be a discreet M-Dot sticker on the back of their car, or they might wear a polo or fleece. Some have the M-Dot tattoo, which may or may not be revealed in the throes of tipping back a few adult beverages. (I still love the explanation to the kids, Jean. For the religious at heart, I would call it an outward manifestation of an inward process.)

At this point in time I feel like a kid in an orphanage or foster care who wants so badly to be accepted into the family. And family is so much a part of the training experience, from what my closest IM friends have said: they serve as domestiques, soigneurs, cheerleaders, psychologists...you name it. That explains the family member boogie down the last few hundred yards with the participant, which to me seems pretty cool. But, like every adoptive child, we're all unique, on the outside looking in. We want to know from the other kids what they did to get into the family.

I don't care how long it takes to get into the family. I just want to be a part.

Simple, Simple, Simple...

I'm back in the office after a week away...all right, I did come in once to check the e-mail. However, as quiet and uneventful as it seems things will be this week, I could have stayed home and limped about there instead of in here. Hey, you never know.

Christmas around Chez Bowen was simple and relatively unadorned. Rubin received a boatload of treats from well-meaning friends; most of them rawhides processed in China. It was with a great deal of regret we tossed them into the wastecan. However, he got some more stuffies from "Dad;" I wasn't certain whether he was going to play with them (Suzanne was waxing biblical, talking about putting away childish things), when, lo and behold, he heard the squeak of one and took it to the floor. Okay, so he wasn't wagging his tail to beat the band like in years past...
Practical was the operating word for our gifts to each other. I got Suzanne a massage/heat pad; she got me skivvies, a movie and fruitcake - I must be the only guy on the planet who really likes the stuff, in spite of it breaking one of my teeth a year ago. For us, the trip to Jacksonville was Christmas. Well, she got the presents; I got the coal. Time with good friends and more coffee in a weekend than most guys put down in a year...works for me.
We had to get the check in the box. I was in no mood to run (I'll get some time/mileage in tonight, but it was Florida miserable out there), but felt the compulsion to do something, so I walked for about four miles...Suzanne ran and walked while I just walked and pondered the mysteries of the universe and all those other things young coaches do when there's nothing fun to do. We got hungry about 1:00 in the afternoon, and I really didn't want to go to the Chinese joint again for lunch...so we did a little driving to see who was open. Just so happens that one sports bar downtown was; playing some football re-broadcasts since there was only the basketball games going down. Let me tell you, there's nothing like a Guinness and a big cheesesteak sandwich, especially on Christmas. Hits the spot every time.
Playing with the dog, and the computer, and checking the e-mail started to get very old. First we thought about hitting a movie, then decided to sit in and watch videos. Suzanne went to the Chinese carry out, grabbed a six of Guinness, then came back to stir-fry after calling our friend Laura to invite her over...the first reaction would be to say misery loves company, but we all were just keeping it simple. I heard lots about the movie Dogma from friends who recommended the Showtime series Weeds, but wow... Screaming hilarious. A great mix of comedy and thriller. I'm afraid I'll have to check that one out again for commentary material.
Who would ever thought of casting Alanis Morissette as God?
Now, I'm ready to get back to training. See you on the roads.

The Needs of the Many...

...outweigh the needs of the few...or the one. - Mr. Spock (Leonard Nimoy), "Star Trek II - The Wrath of Khan"

If there's anything I hate, it's saying goodbye. I've never been good at it. Usually it comes with a promise to keep in touch, which rarely happens. Well, now it's easier to do with the advent of e-mail, instant messaging, Skype and cool stuff like that.

Most of the time I've had to deal with good goodbyes, where everyone parts on the greatest of terms and say glowing things about the relationship. Then, you get bad goodbyes, where everyone saves their final, hurtful parting shots for the final salvo of bile, then circles their wagonload of close associates near to hear them say, 'yeah; you're right, they suck bilge.'

So, why can't people who don't see eye-to-eye and don't want to be associated with each other just agree to disagree, say adios, and get on with life? I sometimes wonder what Ron Warhurst, Mark Wetmore and Chris Carmichael do - or did - when their athletes decide to work with another system, another coach, a different location, or go a different direction.

It used to irk me to have someone no longer train with me without providing a reason. Now, I think I'd rather have them not provide one, that way I can still consider them a friend. As an athlete, I tied so much of my self-image and self-esteem to how my training was progressing and how my racing was going. Not much changes when you move over to the other side of the track; now I tie so much of what I am into what I think is good training for an athlete at a particular point in time. Disagreeing with me doesn't make me feel like I'm being personally attacked as much as it used to; a good solid reason for the disagreement might even make me think twice about what I believe...and adapt accordingly.

It hurts, though, to be blamed for everything that is going wrong in the perception of a single athlete. While I can look at it and say, 'consider the source, it's a disgruntled former athlete,' I guess it takes a while to develop a nice, thick skin.

In the meantime, I guess I'll find a Teflon warm-up suit and some Kevlar shorts. I've got a dozen others who depend on me to do the coach thing; guess I cannot stop at this moment to over-analyze the whole sordid situation. As I tell everyone else what the Maori say, I'll have to:

Kia Kaha. Stand Strong.

Changing Courses in the Middle of the Stream

Ever have a training plan or a racing plan drafted out in the smallest detail, then suddenly - wham! - bad strangeness sets in? Often I find that what I've laid out works good for me, seemingly, then I encounter a friend or a teammate who says, 'hey, I'm planning on doing...' Next thing I know I'm sitting in front of a beer or two with my wife, trying to figure out how can I do this and not screw up my plan for that? Naturally, I have a number of choices:

One, I can choose to not do the particular activity with the friend/teammate. I might not have the opportunity to enjoy myself by being in their particular presence, but I definitely haven't screwed up on two fronts.

Two, I can choose the activity my friend is doing rather than my originally-planned 'thing to do.' Done that before and enjoyed the daylights out of it. In fact, I've never had (that I can rightly recall) a bad Plan-B-activity. I guess you can say that the social aspects of the event far outweighed the lost opportunity cost of the discarded event. It's not always perfect, you understand. Sometimes you pay the price for not doing what you know deep down you should be doing. There's a handful of x-rays in an orthopedic consultant's office and a velcro arm sling that can attest silently to this.

Three, I can find a way to do both...if I really want to do it. How many times have I jumped into a race at the absolute last minute and sucked bilge, or run two races on a single day and felt beat up afterward? Well, a couple of times. However, I think it's all in the perspective; if you do a particular event on a lark without any preconceived (unrealistic) expectations you'll probably have more fun than you expected to. And who knows? Sometimes that's when those fleeting personal best efforts come to pass.

I guess the lesson you can take from this commentary is to have a good idea when, where, how many, and how long a distance you intend to race during a season. Do what seems best to you, not to the friend who's trying to talk you into the Murky George 100-Kilometer Slog Through The Bog or something like that. Right now, I'm thinking about whether to take a year off from racing, outside of a half-iron distance triathlon or two. Whether or not the hiatus will sharpen my desire to toe the line once again is at question. Right now, the goal is to make it to the end of December...after that, I can start thinking about my racing future. Hey, it might not hurt to take a year and just be Coach.

Las Vegas Has Elvis Because Key West Picked First

There' nothing like going on a week's vacation...arrive in town to find two hundred portly, middle-aged-to-elderly men who all have worked very hard over the years to look like Ernest Hemingway in his later years. Each years' winner becomes local royalty. For them, it's a good thing; all they have to do is come back each year to this overpriced spit of land out in the Atlantic and judge future contests. No more political campaign-like madness for them, thank you very much.

And it does feel much like a political campaign, when you look at it from the surface. I saw screen-printed t-shirts, fans, placards; heard chants of individual supporters - usually family and close friends - more money raised and thrown about (in the general direction of the Key West High School scholarship fund) over the course of three days. Sloppy Joe's, the KW bar where 'Papa' Hemingway was reported to have written some of his greatest works, appears to be the center of the universe; Capt. Tony's, just up the block heading west, probably handles the overflow handily.

So, what would 'Papa' do?

I had the chance to talk to the preeminent, the primary, and the persistent. On Saturday morning just before a ritual "running of the bulls" finalist parade, a kindly gentleman, one of the more recent 'Papas,' took the measure of my question. He thought for a few seconds, and replied, 'I'm not certain that "Papa" would understand it.' The family member of a first-timer, fervently (and drunkenly) cheering for his Italian-accented, stumbling moment in the spotlight during the second round of 'Papa' wannabes, told me she did not think Hemingway would understand it, either.

They may be right. A man like Hemingway, who wrote much on the dignity of the individual identity...the aloneness of the man on a mission (or fool's errand), would have been confused by the number of men over the past 27 years who have tried to physically emulate him...many of them on their 20th attempt at last count; the organizers provide pins counting the number of years each participant has show up to pony up his U. S. Grant...and then some. The closest one was a local. The farthest one came from Australia.

And it's the elderly, portly 'Papa' they emulate; a young man was prohibited from competing in years past as the young Hemingway, complete with World War I-era Red Cross ambulance driver uniform.

I guess it means something. We - and by we, I mean our society - look at the decadent, white jump-suited, paunchy Elvis; to the paunchy, hard-drinking, hoary and hirsute Hemingway, as our ideal men. Perhaps this has much to do with the lives of leisure they led prior to their tragic departure from this mortal coil. Problem is, we forget how much labor and effort, the ball-busting, blood, sweat, toil and tears they shed in the development of their craft. A Hemingway short story, such as A Clean, Well-Lighted Place, or Death In The Afternoon takes much longer to write than it takes to read. It's the work, and the life experience that seeps into each word, each page, that takes so much longer. All that labor and expense paid dividend in the end, allowing both their aimless, chemical-induced life.

I have more respect for 'Papa' than for Elvis, though. At least he was still able to walk from Sloppy Joe's to his house, with a potty stop at the kapok tree on the way. Hemingway could be content with buying a drink. Elvis had to buy his friends.