Oh, Porta!

I knew it was going to happen.  There was going to be a "pit stop" - one of those destined to leave me far behind the group - before I reached the first mile.  And there wasn't a thing I could do about it, except for run at race pace to the Quick-Mart on the corner and hope for (zen-like) emptiness in the "coaches' ready room."

The Quick-Mart came and went, and I felt a sense of calm.  Perhaps it was only a little abdominal tension, released by the early exertions of the morning's "sorta-long run."  But no sooner had I passed the convenience store and approached our parked vehicles that the rumbling began deep down below.

Really, there's no nice way to talk about the, er, increased gastric motility which comes to every runner at one time or another.  Some of us more often than others.  And there are the very unfortunate few who suffer from what is commonly known as "runner's trots."  While there are fitness professional types who say this is caused by a decreased blood flow to the gut - because the blood is going more regularly and more often to the lower extremities as we run - that's more likely to cause digestion to slow down rather than increase. 

Dr. Timothy Noakes, in "Lore of Running," writes that the physical activity more likely stimulates the gastrointestinal system to secrete chemicals which encourage gastric motility.  There's also a function of the bouncing and the increase in core body temperature that can stimulate what you took in the night before to, well, head farther south a little faster than the 12-to-19 hours it often takes for digestion to occur.
So, is there anything you can do to keep from having to make those uncomfortable, and sometimes undesired "side trips?" 

First of all, keep in mind that GI distressing symptoms, like "runners trots," can be a sure sign that you might be overtraining, and need to back off.  In this coach's case, I can go ahead and scratch that right off the list.

Food items like dairy, legumes, grains, high fiber the night before...or even the morning of...can be a potential cause of bloating, GI discomfort and so forth.  Alcohol in excess the night before a long run can also leave you with more food in the gut than desired.  Hey, that liver has to make a choice on which to metabolize first, and it usually chooses the item which is more-poisonous. 

A little extra time to T.C.B. in the morning - time with a slice of toast, peanut butter, banana, oatmeal, a cup of hot coffee...an extended visit to the "reading room" - can also work wonders.  I had my tummy pretty-well trained for the past 16 weeks or so, and then when the weather took a turn for the warmer I moved the Sunday morning run twenty minutes earlier.  So, perhaps my mind had well-adjusted to the fact I had 20-minutes less prep time, but that was time my GI system used to make certain I was well-prepped.
Sometimes the adjustment process includes the need to plan ones' running routes around the availability of toilet facilities.  One of my favorite Sunday morning routes - a loop around our airport - begins at an exercise facility which has two reasonably-stocked bathroom facilities.  We also have a city parks and recreation facility, and our house, along the loop.

If changing your diet, your preparation and your route doesn't solve or at least quiet the complaints from the colon, Noakes suggests a small dose of loperamide (Imodium) be taken before the run.

While there's nothing delicate which can be said about the gastrointestinal distress and misadventures which can happen to a runner, take comfort in knowing there are two types of runners in this world:  those who have had to imitate a bear in the woods...

Filling In That Hole

There's nothing like having a senior moment influence your workout.  Rather than run five-to-twelve one-kilometer pieces with rest cycles in between, I ended up doing a version of "ten the hard way" the other morning with my little run group.  Actually, in front of them.

Pete and I got to chattering about his injuries, fitness, training, and racing with about three miles to go.  He decided to run a five kilometer race in the morning, then turn around and race a second event in the afternoon.  Not surprisingly, he marveled at how much more fatigued - and how much more slowly - he raced that evening.

All this, naturally, provided a teachable moment on the joys of recovery.

It seems all too simple:  Exertion (stress) leads to decline in fitness (trough), then a return to homeostasis (baseline) and eventual supercompensation (peak), given enough time.  Add more stress before the return to baseline and you've begun to dig a "deeper hole."  Play your cards right with the level and timing of stress and rest, and over time the baseline is a little higher...that means the athlete is more fit than when they started.

If Pete had been running twice a day - or at the least the occasional run late in the afternoon, followed by a run early the following morning - I believe he would have known how a short recovery period would affect his second run.  He could have learned from trial-and-error how much rest, how much fluid and nutrition, and what specific techniques would have worked.  Or at least what would would not.

Research literature is loaded with many different recovery-enhancing modalities; some of which aren't as highly-touted or marketed as the more-questionable ones.  Naturally, not everyone will benefit equally from the same routine; what works best for you works best for you.

Protein and simple sugars - The latest and most popular blend of protein and simple sugars appears to be chocolate milk.  The moo-juice's advantages definitely lie in the ability to down serious grams of protein and carbohydrates in a matter of seconds almost immediately after the run ends.  Try THAT with a sports nutrition bar!  SlimFast shakes and the Gatorade post-workout shake have also been recommended by several coaches, too, but I started to wonder what the lactose-intolerant runner can do.  A poster on a fitness bulletin board suggested three parts chocolate-flavored soy milk and one part regular soy milk, which they claim has the same ratio of sugars and protein.

Hydration - Water, naturally, is the best choice for hydration, but you only need to drink until your thirst is sated.  A new book by one of my favorite 'smart people,' Dr. Timothy Noakes says the "hydration industry" is, well, 'all wet.'  We didn't have hydration "issues," he says in a recent British Journal of Sports Medicine podcast interview, "until about two decades ago."

Shower - There's nothing like a really warm shower after a hard run; if you have a handheld shower head (especially one with a massage function!) you can focus the flow along the muscles of the lower extremities.  Even though heat and cold treatments are questionable when it comes to muscle soreness, there are very few persons I know who have felt worse after a shower.

Rest - Besides, once you've finished a shower you're probably going to feel like laying down for a bit of a nap.  Even a couple of extra hours of sleep are beneficial to the healing process; sleep deprivation, on the other hand, was found to increase insulin resistance and decrease glucose tolerance, leading to a decreased time-to-exhaustion during exercise.

So, hanging out with the friends and sucking down a couple of adult beverages of choice after a morning's race is perfectly fine, as long as you're not planning to go out and do another race in the afternoon.

(Out of) My Vulcan Mind

Three days after the fact I can safely say I don't ever want to do anything like that again.

Define "that."  "That" is short for 'run a distance race in an undertrained state.'

Even the definition of "undertrained" can be kind of nebulous and squishy.  To differentiate between the two most common forms, there's "undertrained," as in "haven't done as many long runs, or speed workouts as I would have preferred."  That's a more-tolerable and more-desirable state.  There have been some of those worried chats before, where I've told one or two of my own (panicky) athletes their one-toke-short-of-the-line state wasn't such a bad thing.  That form of undertrained is much better than being overtrained (under-recovered).

Then there's the other "undertrained" state.  That's the one that's most simply defined as "insufficient training volume for the target distance," or the "just lay it out there and pray to whatever gods may be that muscle memory saves the day" state. 

In some quarters it's also known, politely, as "extracting a race effort from a portion of the runner's nether region."

When athletes I've worked with in the past have told me "I'm thinking about going to do the (insert event name here), but I haven't trained for it..." in the overwhelming majority of cases the next sound they hear from my mouth sounds like a cross between screaming and...

Even I asked myself a couple of months ago that very question, "Bones." 

Suzanne had the temerity to suggest last week that I hang back in the same corral with her and Teri, amble along and watch the sights at a pace which would have been about 65 percent of my planned effort.  Ah, but I remembered all-too-well trying to hold back and run with Suzanne...at 50-to-60 percent of my ability...about four years ago.  Frustrating for her.  Painful for me.

So, it was time to pull out the proverbial "plan B" for the morning.  I had already penciled in the need to do 40-minute workouts (running, spinning, rowing, or lifting) during the week.  Why not use this time as a workout in the presence of 20,000 friends...most of whom still owed me at least one beer?  The first 40 minutes would be a great time for a moderate-pace run, after which the crowd would probably thin out enough to let me get about 40 minutes of "speed work" in.  After that I figured the next 10-to-30 minutes would serve as that "extraction from the nether region" time.  If I felt great I'd drop the hammer, and if not I'd smile and let the crowd pull me along to the finish.

The first 40 minutes went almost like a charm.  Only a few seconds off the pace I would have loved to have completed for the entire race.  The second 40 minutes went almost according to plan.  Reality began to set in at about 1:15, aboutt the time when I normally finish my Sunday morning runs.  Trouble was I had somewhere between four and five miles left.  With two miles to go I could feel the first twinges in my left calf, which really slowed the flow of progress.  A little adjustment, a little self-talk, and a little music had me back on track.  I finished in 1:56, and suspect if I had run steady for the second 40-minute piece my finish would have been around the same as my previous half-marathon...eight months ago.

The lesson I hope you take away from this is:  There's a range of training volume - distance, intensity, time - which is perfect for each race distance.  A runner doing 60 miles a week can get away with running a 5,000-meter road race, and might do it with a 2-to-3 mile warm-up/cool-down.  On the other hand, a 20-mile-a-week guy (or gal) who jumps into a half-marathon is asking for trouble...especially if it's their first one.  A more-experienced runner might get away with being a little under-prepared, but they're more likely...transiently...out of their Vulcan mind.

Overtraining: The March To Pizza

The slow, steady march of stars and check-marks down the date boxes on my wall calendar gives me a sense of joy and accomplishment.  I have nearly made it to the end of August and the first really comfortable days of outdoor running, in September, will not be far behind.  It also means Suzanne will pull out the slow cooker; stew and soup season will begin soon.  The first days and weeks of warm bowls of stew or soup, with either cheese bread or a sandwich, are a welcome reward for those hard run workouts.  But, once Thanksgiving arrives, I will be jonesing for pizza.

We used to do pizza every Friday evening with my old coach and his wife.  We did the same pizza joint for two years straight.  Now I only go there if we’re in the neighborhood and we don’t want to drive closer to home.  Price might have been one thing, but familiarity breeds tolerance. 

Or contempt. 

Pizza often reminds me of many topics having to do with life, the universe around us…and running.  I remember a lunch discussion with an old running friend of mine, Drake.  He, his wife, Suzanne, and I sat down over pizza one Saturday after a local road race.  Drake said he was disappointed with his race performance and asked what I would recommend for his training plan.  I asked him what he was already doing in training.  He told me he ran the same 5K circuit near his home, every day.   At all-out race pace.  I took a deep breath, prefaced my suggestions with “if I were your coach,” and told him what I felt to be true.  He thanked me for my insights, but he never really took the advice to heart.  He no longer runs races, in fact, he’s what John Parker, Jr. might call ‘once a runner.’ 

I still see him every Sunday morning when we go out for our “sort-of-long run.”  He rides a bike.  Full blast.

Monotony and unchanging routine can be a comfort to many persons.  But the athlete who does the same run or workout day in and day out is most likely going to understand Albert Einstein’s definition of insanity.  There’s little chance for a different outcome or improvement in performance if an athlete is doing the same thing without variation for too long a period of time.  When laying a training foundation there are periods where efforts appear “boring,” but the body is most likely adapting to the stress.  But not varying the intensity of workout over the course of the training cycle or the year, especially if the intensity is high, is a certain way to eventually suffer physically and mentally from overtraining…and if not remedied, to suffer emotionally from burnout.

An over-trained (or under-recovered) athlete can show a constellation of symptoms which can be emotional, mental, or physiological in nature:

Runners who have a feeling as if their legs are heavy or wooden, or have muscles which are more sore than usual, or a sudden increase in thirst, especially at night, are most likely in an under-recovered state. 

When it comes to change in heart rate, researchers have equated an overtraining state to a sudden increase in early morning heart rate.  However, a decreased heart rate during exercise bouts is also a message to the athlete that the body is not completely recovered from a period of training.

It may seem beyond obvious that the treatment for overtraining is rest.  The body needs time to recover.  After the recovery period, which can be as short as one week and take as long as six weeks (sometimes much longer in the most chronic cases).  The intensity of the workouts after the recovery needs to stay at a reduced level, and the athlete should look more closely at their training periods.  Other treatments to combat overtraining include adjusting the diet to take in more calories or more nutrients, even adjusting the way they sleep.

There are programs, such as Matt Dixon’s Purplepatch Fitness, which utilize computer algorithms and spreadsheets to quantify training, recovery, nutrition and functional strength.  Finnish heart rate monitor manufacturer Suunto uses a calculation of post-exercise oxygen consumption (calculated from changes in individual heartbeats) to determine how hard an athlete has trained, as well as how hard their next workout should be to eventually increase fitness.  But any device or spreadsheet is of no use if the athlete does not have the courage (especially in a culture where a blank space on the calendar is seen as a personality flaw) to choose to rest.

An athlete can ignore their body for only so long.  The body will eventually make the athlete listen for a period much longer than the initially-requested chat.

Undertrained, Yet Not Overwhelmed

Home from the Ottawa (Canada) Race Weekend, where I ran my "target" half-marathon event.

No, it was not a personal best.  But in light of my slow healing of the achilles' tendons and an (seemingly) untimely illness during training I went into the event in a way I've often recommended to my own athletes.

Undertrained.

The state of undertraining showed during three jaunts around the Rideau Canal and Queen Elizabeth Boulevard;  I could run along at a six-something minute-per-mile clip for a quarter mile, but it took about 45 minutes to get comfortable enough to get there.  There were no joyous "check in the box" or "hay in the barn" runs to speak of during the next two days, including a shutdown after fifteen minutes.  I knew there was little chance of running close to the last half I ran as part of my triathlon training, but I was going to try.

Naturally, when you are running with over ten-thousand of your closest friends the best place to be is at - or near - the front.  This did not happen.  In fact, the only way I, or the crowd standing around me on the curb at Confederation Square, were going to get into our assigned corral at the gun was crowd surfing.  The female runners were more likely to benefit from this idea; we guys were doomed.

The crowd did not thin out for five kilometers.  Seriously.  I didn't have much trouble going the pace I planned for, but when it came time to ask myself 'will I be able to step up the pace between now and nine miles?' the answer was a calm 'not today.'

You want to know the nice thing about racing or running a race where the splits are in kilometers?  

The splits are in kilometers.

Sure, you can sit there and do all the mental 'eight (kilometers) is five (miles)' gymnastics you want, but it's great to have splits arrive at 62 percent of the time you would normally expect.  It's like doing a Rock n' Roll event and getting 42 bands rather than 26...you have more stimulation.  And that increase in checkpoints is especially important when you hit the 'dark tea-time of the soul' section of the run.  I've learned that every race director has a bit of sadist in them; the most barren, crowd-bereft section of every run course ALWAYS comes at the same time we begin to doubt.  The whole gamut of doubt.  From "I doubt I can hold this pace until the finish," to "I doubt I can even finish" doubt.

I'm not going to directly attribute the performance I got - which was better than the performance I feared - strictly to increased external feedback.  I still looked at my watch when my (mile) split buzzed, and found my splits more or less 30 seconds slower than my "out-of-my-mind" goal pace, but 15-to-30 seconds faster than my average training pace.  However, I wasn't fixating on the difference between my GPS and the mile split marker (which I know is approximate) my heart rate data, my pace, my yada, yada, yada the entire time...all the things which can take a runner out of the race they may have mistakenly set themselves up for.  And place them in the race they can feel.

Too Much Information?

BEEP!

I took a look at the small window which popped up on my computer.  Usually at this point I see a bar filling across the screen; the progress of my Garmin uploading data to my computer.  I take five minutes once or twice a day moving information from the Garmin onto a spreadsheet, the story of my (jogging) life.

But this time was different.  Something didn't seem quite right.

I punched the button again.  A third time.  And a fourth.

One of the things which infuriates the data-obsessed runner is when technology fails to work as promised.  On many occasions the glitches are quickly remedied by a reset protocol or a download of software.  But there are times when even those stop-gap measures are not going to provide satisfaction.

This particular episode made me think about what information is most important to the casual jogger or the semi-serious runner-in-training.  Most of the data can be collected with a good-quality heart rate monitor or running watch and kept either in a notebook or on a computer spreadsheet.

Here's what I think are the most important data points to collect as part of run training:

Time Spent Running - most run coaches consider four-to-seven hours a decent week of training, with the overwhelming majority recommending no more than ten hours a week.  This number, naturally, can be tracked with either a running watch or heart rate monitor.

Number of miles run - A runner who focuses on short-distance races might need to run little more than 30 miles per week, with marathon training requiring anywhere from 40-to-60 miles.  Not only should the average runner look at how many miles they are running, but the number of hard efforts; look at the amount of speed work (to include interval workouts, repeats, fartlek runs and tempo runs) compared to "regular" runs.  Speed training ideally should take no more than 25 percent of the training volume.  Lastly, how many miles has the runner accrued on each pair of running shoes used for training?  A decent pair of running shoes, if used in a two-or-three-shoe rotation, can last for 20-to-25 weeks (400-to-500 miles) before it's time to consider replacing them.  Naturally, a heavier/sweatier runner who trains in a more humid climate may need to replace their shoes a little faster than the lighter one training in a drier climate.  If you use the same courses without variation, you probably won't need a GPS.  A good on-line map program to figure out your run courses and training loops will probably suffice.

Average Training Heart Rate - A workout can not only be judged subjectively by the "did I kick things and take names today" question, but also by a more-objective means, otherwise known as "training effect."  A good heart rate monitor will provide the average heart rate for a workout bout.  If you know the percentage of maximum heart rate, you can multiply the percentage by 2, then multiply that number by the number of minutes exercised.  So, a 60-minute workout at 50-percent of maximum heart rate would have a score of 60 (.50 x 2 = 1; 1 x 60 = 60).  Scores less than 150 are low stress, 150-to-300 are medium, and 300-to-450 are high.  Low stress days can be recovered from the following day; high stress days would naturally take a few days longer.

Resting Heart Rate - the heart rate can tell not only how much demand for blood and nutrients was necessary during the workout, but also whether the body is still repairing from the previous days' exertions.  A resting heart rate (taken first thing in the morning before rising from bed) which is above normal can be a forecast of overreaching or overtraining.

Hours of Sleep - a sudden change in the amount of sleep necessary, or the ability to sleep, is also a warning sign which can tell the runner they might be training too hard.

Of course, the resting heart rate and quality of sleep - as well as training adaptations - can also be affected by our diet, work stress, personal relationships, and so forth.  We forget on many occasions that training is holistic - what happens outside the track or trail often affects how we do, and the other way around.  It doesn't necessarily take a $300 gadget and an overabundance of software to tell us what we really need to know.  We just need to know what to look for.

Marathon Musings: "Tip Of The Iceberg"

On the drive to work this morning, I listened to a live concert recording of an artist whose best stuff (in my humble opinon) is rarely heard; his most sappy dreck gets lots of "soft rock" airplay, however. Thirty-plus years in the music business, and never once did he look the part of the typical pop star. There was a year where his tunes were on everybody's favorite radio station. He still talks self-deprecatingly about his "'fifteen minutes of fame' at the top" of the music business, a little over three decades ago.

How much alike, the "fifteen minutes of fame" and the marathon. There is no such thing in the entertainment business as an "overnight sensation." Each "minute" of the "fifteen minutes of fame" was more likely the end result of more rehearsal spaces, ramen noodles, rough commutes, and relationship hassles than "right place, right time" situations.

Follow any major marathon from the Rock n' Roll Series to the Marathon Majors, as well as the World Championships and Olympics, and everybody focuses almost solely on the 26 miles, 385 yards of race day. That's the cherry of the sundae, the tip of the iceberg, the nose of the hound dog. Very few focus on the 1000-to-1600 miles of preparation, depending on the training plan, the average citizen spends get to the starting line. That's, on average, six-to-ten days of a life preparing for four hours. And small change. On the average.

I'm not saying, as Bill Bowerman once mused about the non-running world, that we engage in "a frivolous activity." What I am saying, especially about the marathon distance, is that it's not for every runner. About a year ago, my friend Charley recommended I watch the movie "Run Fatboy Run." My wife went and bought the DVD and we watched it one evening. I won't ruin the plot for those of you who haven't seen it, but in 25 words or less:

A guy decides to make himself look good in the eyes of his ex-girlfriend by running a marathon. He's sorely unprepared for the task.

I have friends who, for some insane reason, "jump into" events on little (undertrained better than overtrained) or no training whatsoever. If they were fitness buffs they might probably say to themselves along the way "this was a bad idea." Usually when I see them after the event they tell me, with not only perfect but magnified hindsight, they would never do it that way again.

Naturally, every person is a unique individual, and for every participant in a race there are many reasons to participate:

Some want to beat everyone who's ever run the distance.
Some want to beat everyone who's toeing the line on the day.
Some want to beat their best time.
Some want to beat their last time.
Some want to post a time.

When it comes to the marathon, I'm more in favor of the undertrained rather than the untrained state. While there's a lot of recovery (and the risk of injury) involved with the thousand-plus miles which lay between day one of the training plan and the finish line, I believe it makes the last 26.2 that much more possible...and even a little bit enjoyable.

Time For A Few Small Repairs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mind? Matter? Never Mind.

"Mind is everything. Muscle - pieces of rubber. All that I am, I am because of my mind." - Paavo Nurmi (1897-1973)

So much of distance running - running, for that matter - has to do with the mind. Doesn't matter if the target event is something as brief as a 5,000-meter road race or as long as a marathon. You cannot check your mind at the door.

I've heard lots of friends talk about the stress release running provides; usually in terms of 'I step out the door & go, I don't think about anything...' But how many times do runners ask, 'what should I do?' or 'what pace should I go out in at this upcoming race?' So, you haven't thought about these details?

Even a stretch of workouts where you feel you're not doing well might be a sign of the need to think a little more about the running. A friend of mine wrote in a web log posting about improving swim times...but it makes perfect sense for running, also...something one of his coaches used to say: 'when you are running well maybe you really are not running well.' So, when you start to look at your time for a particular run distance, & compare to when your time was perhaps a few minutes faster months (years?) before...it might be high time to do something a little strange.

Go out & do something that's very simple.

I'm not certain whether the root of a long string of 'oh, gosh, I am really doing lousy at this stuff' has to do with only physical or mental burnout, over-training or over-reaching...most likely it's a combination of most of those factors. When performance that doesn't quite match your expectations for the time of the year/training cycle gets into your head, it's probably a good time to hit the reset button for a time.

This could be something as simple as engaging in another type of exercise, or cross-training for a few weeks until the hunger for that sport returns. A new venue, time of day, change in conditions or modality can switch things up in a positive manner. Perhaps putting the training log & techy-schmecky electronic equipment to the side, doing a few days or weeks of caveman exercise, with little more than a route and a time of day to go by? Even a little bit of - gasp - rest might not hurt in the most extreme cases.

Of course, the aging/slowing processes might be a historical inevitability. Wrapping our minds around the fact we might not be as good now as we were when we were ten years younger; does it matter? Maybe? Perhaps not?

Never mind. Just keep moving forward, one step at a time.

Questions Of Our Age

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

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

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

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