Alice's Restaurant

Went out for a run on New Years' Day with a couple of (former) athletes and good friends. Late into the run, my friend Beverly told me about a mutual friend of ours, Mel, who became so motivated by his performance at Ironman Florida he took up running with a passion. Next thing she knew, she said, he read Christopher MacDougal's "Born to Run" and began training for a "real" marathon. We spent the remainder of the run discussing the next book to recommend; she thought it should be John L. Parker, Jr's. "Again To Carthage," I held out for "Ultramarathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner," by Dean Karnazes.

Listening to "born-again runners" is a joy. Most of them cannot help but reveal what they consider their personal (secret) revelation to the world around them. Most runners know there really are no secrets, other than 'train your heart out, rest when not training.' I also like to hear someone speak about running, as Arlo Guthrie once sung, "with feeling..."

Sometimes the feeling can make us parochial, even dogmatic, about what we think is best for our fellow runner. As a coach, I admit I've recommended running specialty shops, web sites, coaches, training plans, races, lodging, and - on rare occasions - shoes, equipment, and gadgetry. Years after my last lodging arrangement, I still get 'hey, just curious if you're booking rooms for such-and-such race' e-mails. From people who never trained with me.

"...you should tell every young runner to use (brand) running shoes and (device)," the boy said to George and myself over a beer last night. That's the type of statement to which my old coach, Dale Fox, would reply, "Oh? Really?" Rather than immediately shut my ears to what Steve (a.k.a. "the boy") said I decided to take a few moments and listen. Not so much to dissassemble his assertion like an assault rifle, eventually laying the greasy little parts in front of him. I trained for a few years alongside Steve's his father, so there's a familial obligation involved. I also appreciate the boy's "salta de qualitat," or recent leap in his run performances.

Shoe manufacturers can market their shoes with a statement saying "the way you should run," but normative statements don't get marketing gurus and advertising agencies in hot water. That kettle of fish is usually saved for the coach or the running emporium proprietor who has to hear from the athlete, 'so, what do you think of...?' So the shoe, which costs about 20 percent more than what the athlete already wears, is designed to make the athlete adapt their running gait? Ah, but if I were to focus the athlete on a faster turn-over and a shorter stride - the very same mechanics the shoe purports to encourage - would they give me the additional 20 percent they would have spent on the shoe?

Probably not. Shoes are sexy. Coaching isn't.

There are an abundance of gadgets on the market which are a great help to runners, but there are certain things a massage therapist will be able to do that a roller, stick, or ball won't. But a runner on a tight budget may consider self-massage items a good (inexpenxive) substitute for regular massage therapy. I have a retired friend who knows his way around a dollar. I guess when you can retire before 55 you have a blend of skill, luck and the ability to know your way around a greenback. Rather than spend 40 dollars on a self-massage modality, he took the same 40 bucks and made a bunch of very-workable self-massage sticks, giving them out as holiday presents a couple of years ago. I still have his stick in the corner of my living room, next to a 100-dollar massage kit. You can take a wild guess which gets used more often.

A new friend, Galen, ran (at least) seven marathons in seven days last week here. He told me he sees the strangest things at some of the distance runs he does. Probably the most frightening was the (his words) "runner wearing the Camelbak as well as the 'hand grenade' bottle belt."

Overkill? I think so. Galen told me he asked the name of the running store proprietor, probably in order to tell newbie runners "enter at your own peril."

So before I "rhetorically" sing a bar of "Alice's Restaurant" ('you can get anything you want...') and walk out of any conversation, I always like to remind friends that every runner is a unique experiment, a sample population of one. What works for you, works for you. If you see something cool and new, take the time to do the research or ask if you can give it a trial run before springing the big bucks.

That's probably one more race entry, from what I can figure. Races are more fun than gadgets.

The Mother... of Invention

Absolutely the best possible reason for owning and using an iPod or a good MP-3 player. I've always fervently and vehemently opposed the use of those gadgets while running races or track workouts, but given personal experience, I can understand why some will use them. One thing the MP-3 player does do is protect the user from earworms, such as seen above. However, the song above is not the worst breed of earworm. I think Bobby McFerrin's Don't Worry, Be Happy is the most dangerous of earworms. Just ask Jeffrey Crane. I shoved that one deep into his head during a track workout years ago, and I bet he still hasn't got it out of his head. In fact, the last time I saw him at a race (a little over 19 months ago) I started whistling DW, BH and watched his Marine Corps-trained butt run away in horror.
HOWEVER, I learned this weekend of what obviously has to be the most fantastic invention provided by the Almighty to man since the inspiration to brew beer. You have to love a shoe-maker who designs a slide (sandal) with a church key (bottle opener) embedded into the sole. If someone had told me such a device existed I would have thought them a little crazy. However, I saw one for myself during a swimmer potluck this weekend.
Some of the gang brought in classic (non-screw-top) bottles to the party, myself and my wife included. I keep a fold-up church key on my keychain, and a larger church key on an insulated bag we take to social functions. I thought I'd be helpful to one of my fellow swimmers, until someone called out to Mel and asked if he'd loan out his sandal for a second. Mel took the sandal off his foot, popped the top, then returned the slide to his foot. Those of us who didn't know anything about the device were in awe, and rightly so.

As John Parker would say, necessity is the mother______ of invention. Some dude saw a need and invented. We can now bow in the general direction of Reef sandals and surfer Mick Fanning. You, at least for today, are our hero.

Hammer Time!

Tempo run of seven miles yesterday at the beach. The group - which includes most of our team officers, several of our active membership, and not a few of our former members (who I graciously classify on my nicer days as alumni) meets every Wednesday evening at 6:00 to run anywhere from four to six miles, then eat, drink and be merry until they can't stand it any longer...or the management kicks them out.

I've used the treadmill for the majority of the summer because it has been too d@mned hot to get any quality mileage in otherwise...at least while I was healthy enough to run (so maybe there was a good side to breaking my arm!). Two weeks ago I went to the beach to do a six-mile tempo and completely exploded in a blaze of glory at the three-mile point. BRAAP! Back to the treadmill for a couple of more weeks, Coach Mike. I bumped up the pace on the treadmill runs to ~6:44/mile, taking a three-minute cool-down cycle between each mile. Then, I decided to extend the tempo repeat from 1 mile to 1.2 miles, so I got the mileage in five pieces, vice six. That's three less minutes of easier running/jogging/walking, too.

We were talking about the beach loop the other night, and Scott, my assistant and club secretary mentions something in passing about the six-mile loop being only 5.8 miles. I almost asked him, 'says who?' We've never really measured a course out there, and I have little love for GPS wearers and their complete dogmatic trust (dependence?) on that gadget. I have to admit I'm not as violently opposed to them as I was in the past, and I would use one if it were given to me (Note to my loving wife: no, I really do not need a GPS, not unless it does the street navigation, too.) by a company wanting someone to wear-test. Dude, if there's anyone who can destroy a piece of technology with just casual, everyday use, it's me. Ask Nike; that's why they are no longer in the MP3 player market.

I probably could have used one last night, though, to run the tempo run. I have a good idea where the two-mile point on the course is located, so I figured what I would need to add on in time duration (ten minutes) to lengthen the 5.8 mile loop run into a 7-mile tempo run. Hammer ten more minutes (five out, five back), on top of what I guessed would be a 40-to-41-minute run normally and voila! Done.

Well, I went out at a comfortable (7 minute/mile) pace for the first two miles. Who knew I would pick up the pace that much after two? Who knew I would race the sun coming back? Who knew I'd run 49:34 for 7.8 miles!? That's a little bit fast (ya think, Coach?) for a tempo run. That's about 20 seconds faster than my average pace for a half marathon.

However, I tend to run on feel, not on gauges. When I had a Suunto POD and heart rate monitor, I spent a lot of time looking at the data rather than running more by feel. That's the liberty of going by physiological markers, especially after you've done enough training. Translates well into racing and you don't have to worry about if or when the technology bites the big one (like the Suunto did)...Murphy's Law...and it goes wrong after you become dependent on the technology.

Working that hard makes it interesting the morning after, especially if you're doing any kind of cross-training or you have a real daytime job. When our organization provided employees the option of working flexible work schedules; the kind where you do your 40 hours of weekly work over the course of four days, or your 80 hours of a pay period over the course of nine, I decided immediately it was not for me. Sorry, boss. I'm a creature of habit, and I coach. I have places to be in the early afternoon, and I like having not to worry about taking two hours of annual leave in conjunction with a federal holiday.

Besides, I'd rather do 80 percent of the something my boss and my other 'eight days a pay period' co-workers are doing each day.

A Sense of Normal

Since Sunday morning, I've been feeling pretty good. It's not 100-percent, and probably won't be for another three to six weeks. Sleeping is still painful, and getting up in the morning even more so. Whether this has more to do with the increased beer intake over the past week or the muscles adjusting to the increased workload is hard to say.

I actually started getting around out of the sling on Friday evening. I did not feel like having to juggle it, my cell phone, wallet, glasses, and so on. If I had to stay in it for an extended period of time a trip to Running Wild for some of those neat little Velcro-strappable add-ons would have been necessary...either that, or I'd be borrowing one of my wife's left-over chunks of cloth from her running attire modifications in order to build a lighter, more breathable sling. The Townsend is comfortable, but not when the heat index approaches triple digits.

Yesterday was my first "real" cardiovascular workout in a couple of weeks since the accident. I did some elliptical trainer the first couple of mornings after, then started to worry, especially when Roberto, one of my athletes (and a dentist) had a concerned look on his face. After that, I ditched the ET for walking. I hated that, big time. I like working out...the smell of chlorinated water in the morning, the feeling of honest fatigue as I'm sucking down that well-earned first cup of coffee (as my father would say, 'momentum...') in the office...easy days with Scott and Steve on the back side of the airport...the rare occasional set of all-out, b@lls-to-the-wall 160s with full recoveries...the sense of accomplishment at the top of the hill...

While there are aspects of training I don't care for, like having to shoehorn my bike or swim workout in between sleep and work, right now I'm not really focusing on the negative things. All I can think of is how much fun it is to be with friends and kicking butt.

I realize there's going to be a day, or a time, when the dividing slash thrown after my original descriptor, "athlete" is going to have to go away; rather than be "athlete/coach" I'll be just a coach. The past three weeks have given me a little insight on what that's going to feel like. At this point in time I'm not quite ready.

I'm ready for normal...any time now.