More Than Meets The Sole

“I bought a used pair of shoes for 15 dollars.”

Had I not been driving the car on a bridge, I most likely would have pulled over and then cried out in horror.  I took a breath, then asked in a calm voice, “What did you do?”

Suzanne said, “I bought a pair of (blank) shoes off eBay, used, for 15 dollars.”

“They’re in good condition; the sole only has a little bit of wear and they felt pretty good this morning on the run.  It’s not a bad deal.”

The conversation was definitely not one of those I wanted to have while driving home from a Sunday brunch.  Perhaps in the case of my wife it wasn’t a bad deal, but buying a used running shoe seems much to me like buying a used car.  I’ve had friends (and some family) provide the classic adage, ‘when you buy a used car, more often than not you are buying someone else’s problems.’  So in Suzanne’s case, I felt that not only had she bought someone else’s problem, but she also could not tell how long the previous owner had used the problem.

When it comes to wear and tear on a pair of shoes it’s not necessarily the outsole (the harder rubber portion of running shoes which contacts the road, track, belt or terrain) where the attention needs to be focused.  The midsole of the running shoe is the part which takes all of the beating.  But, to borrow an automotive analogy, to determine the shoes are still good for running, too many runners look at tire wear rather than the condition of the shock absorbers.

Most runners, if they use a pair of running shoes for more than 400-to-500 miles (or six months), are asking for musculoskeletal trouble.  Personal experience has shown me when a runner has not made any change in training distance, surface, or intensity, but suddenly suffers from aches and pains in the ankles, knees, hips and lower back, they most likely have a "dead" pair of shoes.  Some have asked whether changing the sockliner with a gel or silicone rubber insole will help. 

That's a very short-term quick fix.  Go out and purchase another pair of shoes.  Or two.

Runners who do higher training mileage, run a little "heavier," sweat a great deal, or live in a warm, humid area of the world would do well to rotate between two or three pairs of shoes at a time.  Rotating shoes not only extends the life of all of the shoes but ensures the runner is less likely to run in a soggy pair of shoes.  Soggy shoes not only stink to high heaven (almost worse than when they're dry) but can increase the odds of developing athlete’s foot.

I’m not advocating going full-out “Imelda Marcos,” and carrying a shoe arsenal which rivals most Olympic decathletes.  However, most runners can and should keep more than one pair of functional running shoes available at a time.  Keep an eye peeled for on-line sales and discounts from local brick-and mortar running specialty stores, and comparison shop, and you can keep yourself in a good pair of running shoes throughout the year.

Don't.

The ache in the knees should have been a warning sign.

One look at the training logs told me the terrain of the previous weekend could have been the root cause of discomfort.  Sure, others outside the Gulf Coast can scoff at the 50-to-100-foot variations in total elevation, but most physical therapists would probably not recommend my county-fair-style wanna-be roller coaster courses from Sunday morning or Sunday afternoon.

Not the best training surface for a pair of recovering achilles tendons.

Since the achilles were not aching, the next suspect would have been the shoes.  Nope.  I ran in shoes which had 300 and 180 miles, respectively.  Old shoes cause aches first in the ankles, then the knees, closely followed by the hips and low back.

I've waited until the "back pain" stage to buy the next pair.  It's amazing how quickly the ache goes away.

As I lay, stewing in my own 101.3-degree juices, it suddenly came to me.

Eric.  And 13,000 of my closest (some as stone cold sober as me!) friends.

I had a sneaking suspicion something was not going to go well when he asked me: 'Mike, do you have any recommendations on how to run when you cannot breathe?'

My one-word answer: 'Don't.'

Most experienced runners know the "chin rule" when it comes to running while sick.  If the congestion or discomfort of an allergy or cold is limited to the head and sinuses, runs at a decreased intensity are acceptable.  If the congestion is below the level of the chin (the small accessory muscles of the ribcage is a good sign - if the ribs are tender the accessory muscles have probably been used too much), rest, rest and some more rest is a great idea.

The weekend's exposure more than compensated for the wisdom and prudence I used through the end-of-year holidays.  Sometimes the runner can exercise caution - avoid crowds, eat properly, and train smartly - and still one (or two, or three, in my case) exposures can put them down for the count.  Illness can be punishing enough without adding to it, so don't.

Finding The Sweet Spot

"These sudden joys have sudden endings. They burn up in victory like fire and gunpowder. . . . Too fast is as bad as too slow."
--"Romeo and Juliet," Act 2, Scene 6 (William Shakespeare, ca. 1597), in modern English.

My loving wife often warns me about what she calls "hobby-horses." She knows I tend to be fixated to the verge of obsession on certain topics. When I served as RRCA state rep for North Florida, headphone use was my "hobby horse." I've had other "hobby horses," too, but the headphone thing was most-notable.

I've talked a lot about treadmill running with people who hate treadmills. Some of them are folks who say TMs are no good for training, others don't like the boredom factor. Since late November, I've done every weekday run, including speed workouts, on a treadmill. True, the TM can be breathtakingly boring, but they let me control many training variables. I can adjust one variable at a time and see how my body reacts, or I can end the workout the instant my tendons are in distress.

The initial 35-minute runs are now 60-minute runs, averaging eight minutes per mile. The good news is I'm near the training volume where I was when I was running six days a week and racing once every three months. But the ache in my back and hips is not so good.

It's not the shoes - the oldest of my three pairs has somewhere between 260-270 miles on them, with the newest pair less than thirty. Could it be the treadmill? The "Gait Guys" wrote an article for Triathlete magazine; they warned readers about how a treadmill can adversely affect a runners' gait.

After reading the research by University of Virginia physical therapist Jeff Dicharry, I called the overwhelming majority of the "Gait Guys" article bupkis. Except for that "downhill" thing.

Like a road or trail surface, the feel and comfort of a treadmill varies by manufacturer, model, and even the machine's installation. Ed W. sees treadmills and elliptical trainers as warm-up, not the workout itself...that means run/tri guys like me are not his gym's typical customers. The treadmills in his cardio area are on solid rubber flooring, and thick rubber matting supports his lobby area TMs. There might be a slight slope in the lobby naturally; all the lobby treadmills seem to have this feeling like one is running slightly downhill.

The "Gait Guys" say the downhill sensation is caused by the "pull" of the belt on the runner's lower extremity, in contrast to the "push" of the lower extremity on the ground surface. They say it affects the gait; Dicharry has proven whatever variations exist (in 40 percent of runners) are so miniscule that to tell the difference it requires equipment which exists in only two sports labs in the country.

So, runners who sense that "downhill" feeling on the TM may benefit from an elevation tweak of 0.5-to-1.0 percent. I've tried both; for me a 0.5-percent adjustment is enough to take away that sensation.

The cause of the hip ache is simple - spin class on the "off" days. The exercise bicycle in the gym cannot be adjusted as readily as a "real" bike, or like a "spinning" bike. Different movement patterns cause musculoskeletal aches and soreness.

Any runner who has ever tried to run a pace that is too slow for their comfort has probably found out too late the error of their ways. I like to tell the tale of running with Suzanne at Honolulu's Ala Moana Park in January 2008; a solid minute-to-two-minutes-per-mile decrease in pace left me hobbling after the third day. A pace that is much slower than a runner's intrinsic efficiency forces major gait adjustment, either in stride length or stride duration. A shorter stride length is not biomechanically injurious; a longer stride duration means a longer period of compression time for the large muscle groups and joints. Drive with your shock absorbers compressed beyond their normal range for an extended period of time is most likely going to shorten their lifespan.

So, perhaps it's possible not only for a runner to go at a pace that is too fast - leading to fatigue, overstriding, a compensated gait pattern, and heel-striking - but also too slow on a treadmill.

How can a runner determine what are good training paces for treadmill runs, without going into a lot of trial and error? There are a couple of really good on-line calculators developed by some of the nations' best running coaches (e.g., McMillan, Daniels) which provide optimal pace ranges for easy runs, recovery jogs, and speed work of varying degrees.

I used my Daniels VDOT training pace for easy/long runs as the starting point for treadmill runs. After a time it appears the easy/long run pace is too slow. So, I will probably start at the "marathon pace," a little closer to 7:30/mile, and adjust downward until I find the least uncomfortable pace which doesn't feel too slow.

That's why the later editions of Running Formula, and McMillan's calculator, have pace ranges, because there will always be a sweet spot at each of the intensities which feel best for the individual runner. While running too fast on the treadmill can injure a runner, too fast is no more injurious than running too slow.

One Excuse Is As Good As Another

Even coaches suffer from demotivation, especially coaches who like bright, sunny mornings. I used to think seasonal affective disorder was a bunch of bologna until I spent an autumn in Chicago. September was great, the first half of October was pretty good. The last four weeks I spent in a deep blue funk, praying for sunshine that never seemed to come. So I guess that's one of the reasons I sat, grumbling, over a cup of coffee and a slice of toast with Nutella the other morning. Was I ready to go out and run with my wife and a couple of our friends? Not necessarily. The gray skies had me wishing for a pot of coffee and a thick book of mindless reading.

On top of this, my mood was not helped by the gentle, persistent ache in my ankles and feet. I raced a 10K the previous day. I commented about the previous day's exertions, saying something like "a tale of two 5Ks, one good and one bad." I ran the first half at my desired 10K pace, then realized my (5K) fitness did not transfer well to the (10K) distance. Rather than risk regression, or worse, reinjury, I shut down the effort on the return trip, adjusting the pace to a minute slower per mile.

Most "hobby joggers" (as some would judge by my performance) would be pleased with a 46-minute 10K. Most people (still) recovering from injuries would call it a good day. However, the ghost of race performances past can trouble the aging and rehabilitating runner. Really, I should be happy to be out on the roads and still running, right?

How many times do runners use a variety of excuses - some lame, others less so - to justify a performance that did not quite meet up to their expectations?

Some of the better excuses I like to hear sound a lot like these:

"I wore the wrong shoes." - In my humble opinion, one of the best and most valid. This excuse is more common with guys who keep half-a-dozen pair of running shoes, in varying states of life, around the house. I've put my singlet, extra socks, race belt, dry post-race clothes, and so on, in my bag the night before, left the house on the morning of the race with all my gear in my bag, but forgot the shoes in which I was going to race. So, I had to wear the pair of retired "kick-around" shoes which had no cushioning left. That's one of those 5Ks I wanted to get over with quickly; one that felt like it would take forever.

The only situation worse than to show up to the race with the wrong shoes is to show with no shoes.

"I wore too much clothing." - This is particularly true for less-experienced runners taking on longer-distance events. I've stood at marathon finish lines, five (or more) hours after the start, with temperatures twenty degrees above the optimum race day temperature. It scares me to see participants layered in tights and warm-up suits staggering toward the chute.

Less often heard is the converse; very few runners under-dress for the conditions. I'm one of those crazy persons who will race in a singlet, high-cut racing shorts, and a hat or gloves. This last weekend I used a pair of arm-warmers and felt good until the end...a little on the warm side because of the knit cap, though. And, strangely enough, there were at least two guys out shirtless in the 40-degree weather.

"It was too (hot/cold/windy/humid)." - Weather conditions happen. And in many cases, unless you're talking marathons, the entire field contends with identical factors. There's not much a runner can do, except train when and where the weather dictates. And don't forget to take advantage of tactics which involve the climate. There's no law that says you have to not draft behind a runner when you're traveling into the wind, right?

"I didn't hydrate/eat properly." In many ways runners are like charcoal grills. You can pile fuel for the burning and light a match, but sometimes, in order to burn fuel you have to have some tinder or an accelerant. Some runners can eat as little as a candy bar before a race; others have to hit the buffet table.

Then comes the issue of hydration, which can be screwed up in quantity or quality. Ask any runner who's had a "barley-based liquid dinner" the night before a race how they performed. Most - after a couple of aspirin - will tell you they would like to have had the previous evening as a "do-over." Beer has fewer carbohydrates than most of us care to admit.

"The course was too long/short." - I measure courses, so I hear this one more often than I care to admit. The fallacy behind this complaint lies in a couple of factors: First, the length discrepancy is most often described in terms of time, rather than in distance. Second, the persons who complain in terms of distance usually gauge it based upon a consumer-grade GPS receiver.

If I hear 'the course was (number) seconds long,' my hearing shuts off. If I hear 'my GPS said the course was...' I patiently explain to them the limitations of consumer-grade GPS receivers, the exact distance of the race course, and the protocols (often) used to measure. For thirty seconds. At which point their hearing shuts off.

"This was a training run." - This is not necessarily a bad excuse, in my opinion. At least, if you're a top-shelf runner in training for a big race somewhere down the line.

If you are in a situation where you pin a bib number on your shirt/top, or attach it to your race number belt, it's a race. I've always been of the opinion that one should not race unless one is race-ready.

Which is probably why I shouldn't have raced the other weekend. But sometimes we have to get out among our fellow runners and blow the carbon out of the exhaust pipes. Maybe the best thing we can do is be honest with ourselves and say, 'I'm out running, and whatever happens, happens.'

Certainly sounds a lot better than all the unsavory alternatives of not running, right?

Sock It To Me - The Right Foot Cover For The Job

A sharp, almost burning pain shot up from my heel near the end of my Monday early-morning run. My first response was one near the level of worry, of "ooh, that's not good at all." Fortunately I was about three-tenths of a mile away blocks from my house. I immediately slowed down to a walk, just to see if the pain would subside.


There was good news and bad news.

The bad news was that the heel pain continued. The good news was the pain was localized at the point where my heel rubbed against the cuff of my training shoe. Why? When I pulled off my shoe a dime-size spot of mesh appeared at the heel of my ten-year-old "favorite pair" of running socks. Right at the cuff. That was the reason for the pain.


There's nothing evil about parting ways with a ten-year-old pair of running socks. It's hard to grow into love with a new - read the word "different" here - piece of clothing, especially if you've grown accustomed to a particular style, cut or material. In this case, the socks were knit wool(-blend) crew style. My friend Scott heard immediately questioned my sanity. Yes, Scott, wearing wool socks in Florida is probably a sign I'm a little mad.


Running socks have come a very long way from the cotton crew socks I used when I started running with regularity in the early 1990s. Definitely far from the up-to-your-calf cotton tube socks I wore in high school.

Naturally, space prohibits from discussing every possible type of sock available. However, if there are sock manufacturers willing to let me road test their wares I won't hesitate to talk a little more about them.

The most popular running socks fall into three different categories: thin, padded and specialty.

Thin socks which come to my mind are made by companies like SockGuy, SaveOurSoles, LN, Gizmo and Air-E-Ator. When Suzanne and I go to an out-of-town race, we'll pick up a matching pair, just to remind our friends we're married. I love these socks for a number of reasons:

First, they work well for a multitude of situations. I can wear them with a pair of dressy shoes; nothing drives my co-workers up the wall like seeing me in a meeting wearing a pair of black socks with a beer mug embroidered on the medial (inner) and lateral (outer) cuffs.
Second, when I do triathlons the thinner socks protect my feet from the seams and edges of my bike shoes and help me to slide into my run shoes very quickly.
Third, I can wear them with a snug pair of cushioned running shoes or racing flats...depending on the distance, or as an inner pair with a low cuff padded sock for a longer distance race.
Last, the multitude of sock colors and embroidery designs - colleges, military services, wise comments, and so on - let me expose my personality on the road.

When it comes to padded socks Thor-Lo comes to mind reflexively. I've varied between the low-cut crew 12 and what Thor-Lo calls the Run-12 and the Run-14, depending on the time of year and availability in the running specialty stores. Thor-Lo knits their socks in three different varieties of thread: CoolMax, Wool, and Acrylic, and in thin or padded styles. I love the padded style, and can never seem to have enough pairs. I've also worn the Ironman-branded sock, which is an acrylic blend, and a little less-padded than the Thor-Los. The Ironman-branded socks, made by Wigwam, are my first choce for longer-distance race days, usually covered up with a SockGuy-type sock.


I received a pair of WrightSocks as part of a grab bag shipment a few years ago. What made those socks special was the fact they had two layers rather than one, which kept my tender(ized) foot and ankle flesh from rubbing against the internal seams of my shoes. Nice socks, but unfortunately, I suffered from the curse of any guy who launders...the favorite socks always lose one member of the pair, after which they - the single sock which remains - are only good for making dog toys.

Why is it the good socks always lose one of the pair, and the bad socks never get lost?

Let's return to the topic of rubbing and the outcomes which result from skin rubbing against seam - blisters -and skin rubbing against skin - blisters, chafing, callouses. I've had calloused skin between my fourth and fifth toes for a long time, which occasionally I'm able to trim down. My wife, noticing this issue, asked whether a pair of socks with split toes would help the problem. I used to look at the Injinji socks as another one of those strange marathoner aberration-slash-fad things; my marathoning alumna used to wear them for every run and swore by their benefits. With "barefoot" running and the Vibram-type split-toed shoe-like devices suddenly appearing on the foot of every bandwagon rider the Injinji socks would make for a great sock inside a pair.

Think about it, barefoot-runners. If you're wearing a "shoe" with no sock, eventually it is going to stink to high heaven UNLESS you have some sort of sock or fabric in there to soak up all that sweat. Naturally, split toed "shoes" would require the use of split toed socks.


So, Suzanne decided to grab me a pair of Injinji socks (rainbow colored!) which I could wear with sandals or while running. After the first five minutes of 'wow, this feels a little bit strange, this feeling of cloth between my toes' feeling, I have to admit they were very comfortable. Even for long runs.

Naturally, there's no "one size fits all" solution for the right pair of socks. Much like running shoes, the right sock for the runner is a match -sometimes made in heaven, sometimes a little farther "south" - between shoe and foot; a blend of personal preference, "checkbook resiliency, and foot type.

A Mind Is A Terrible Thing

The aches and pains have again returned, twelve weeks into my quest to become a "runner" once again.

Our bodies can clearly communicate the message we've done more damage to ourselves than eight hours of prophylactic sleep is going to repair. Some days, it takes a couple hundred milligrams of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatories to do the trick. And on the worst days, perhaps even a bike ride rather than a run.

Like I've mentioned in past posts, when something like the little aches and pains return, it's wise to look back and see where the plan has been not followed. In this particular case it seems to have come over the last two weeks, when I increased my run times from 46 minutes to 50, and from 50 minutes to 55, following that "ten percent" rule of thumb.

However, I was doing it all wrong. I wasn't following my own counsel, and planned as though I was stronger than I truly was. I wrote in the past about the ten-percent increase at three week intervals, but figured I could do it at one-week intervals.

It's the sort of hubris which can turn a person, if they are not careful, into a former runner. John L. Parker, Jr. writes eloquently in his second work of fiction, "Again To Carthage," about the process of slowing down. In one chapter, two former Olympians, coach and athlete, talk about the marathon after a twenty-mile run, and the coach directly mentions one particular race he considered the probable cause for his relative debility.

How frightening is it to be able to look at a training log and say: 'right there?' I spend more time crawling within the recesses of my own head than probably the average bear. To borrow partly from an old public service advertising campaign, "a mind is a terrible thing..." Slowing down any more than I have in the past year doesn't frighten me. Stopping altogether does.

It's the reason I tell my own athletes to err on the side of caution.

It's the reason most good training plans are exactly that, plans. If they were supposed to be rigid, without adaptation, and guaranteed to succeed we probably would have called them training itineraries.

It's the reason rest, recovery and rehabilitation are underrated.

And, it's probably the reason the best cure for a bad day is another day. And another. And another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Hard Work - Street Sweepers, Mad Hatters & Duck Calls

“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.” - Martin Luther King, Jr. (1929-1968)

When Suzanne & I visit New Orleans for race events, we try to get up very early at least one morning during the trip. One of the reasons we get up before the crack of dawn is to run & socialize with our 5:20 Club friends, up along the Lakeshore. The other reason we get up early is to put on our walking or running shoes & stroll the length of the French Quarter, usually along Bourbon Street.

It's a completely different world at seven in the morning on a Saturday or Sunday. The visual effect & soundscape as we stroll from Canal to Esplanade & back is, for lack of a more eloquent term, night & day when compared to the night before. What New Orleans Times-Picayune writer Chris Rose described in his work, "One Dead In Attic," as 'oyster-stink,' is mellowed somewhat by the scent of detergent laid down by various & sundry restaurateurs, shopkeepers & a few really hard working persons in the employ of Sidney Torres.

You can almost hear yourself think clearly, it's that calm.

"I've been lazy most all my life, writing songs and sleeping late; any manual labor I've done purely by mistake. If street sweepers can smile then I've no right to be upset..." - "It's My Job" (McAnally/Corbi)

Unlike Mac McAnally Jr., (Jimmy Buffett's songwriting partner-in-crime), I have no need to sit on the curb feeling sorry for myself at seven in the morning. I have a need for a hot cup of coffee. Self-pity is not on the agenda. But the calm after the storm of the night before makes me marvel at the folks who get up early every morning, not because they need to get their workout in before the morning commute to the cubicle farm, where most people's dreams go to die. They do it because, as McAnally wrote & Buffett sang, it "makes the day" for them.

And on a day like today, when federal workers (like me - please, no 'contradiction-in-terms' jokes) are off because of the hard work & sacrifice of unsung civil rights workers like Dr. King, I couldn't help but feel just a little bit guilty.

As an athlete, a coach & a race director, I definitely know the merit of hard, unseen toil, especially in areas where the spotlight rarely ever shines. In most cases, while the race participants, volunteers & family members are putting their efforts into making another keg of beer float I'm ten miles down the beach, throwing folding tables & ice chests in my little black Scion xB, or hanging out in a small boat & learning how to make my first jellyfish stings hurt less while pulling up buoys.

But athletes expect a sort of Disney World-like quality from race directors; everything they need is there when they need it, always to their satisfaction. I've had long discussions with seasoned race volunteers, & we nearly all agree the vast majority of race participants would freak out at the level of work which goes into even the smallest of races. A participant at a race director seminar last year launched into a litany of things he felt race directors should have available for race participants. I sat with my friend George over a beer that afternoon, wondering if the race director in question could or would be able to pull off what he wanted to see at other races in his own. It's too soon to tell; I haven't seen a flyer for any of his events.

As an athlete, I love highly-motivated aid station workers, course marshals & finish line staffers. Certain run courses can leave you traveling in and out of those (to borrow from Douglas Adams) 'dark-tea-time-of-the-soul' moments; a cheerful aid station captained by a racer & manned by her high-school students has the ability to provide enough adrenaline surpassing the benefit of the two half-filled cups of cool water you might otherwise take there.

The flip side of the coin followed not long after mile 12 of this last weekend's beach half-marathon...I knew it was not going to be the best of days on the warm-up. By mile 12, I was in a world of discomfort, due to an achilles' tendon which doesn't like heavily-crowned road surfaces. After ten miles, you remember why running injured can be a painful, sometimes depressing affair. I approached the third-to-last turn on the course, just a block before turning back onto the main drag. The course worker at that corner was a teenage girl, huddled up in a folding beach chair. She appeared to barely have the strength to call out encouragement as I painfully ambled by. It reminded me of mile two of last years' Jackson Day race - those girls received a mulligan because it was 20 degrees - this young maiden had about 30 degrees to the good side of those conditions. It took a great deal of restraint to not turn back to her & say, 'could you spare the sliver of energy it would take to give just a little more encouragement?'

It was then that I heard the duck call. A couple dressed as the Mad Hatter & Donald Duck (I think they did the previous weekend's Disney events) were cheering & guiding runners back toward the finish...I remembered the duck call on the trip out & could not help but laugh to myself at the sheer (apparent) silliness of the whole thing. But, with aching heel & achilles, running low on motivation & glycogen, it was the last real good kick in the back-side I was going to need before the finish line.

Suzanne finished about 45 minutes later, & marveled at the couple's fortitude as well. In fact, she took the time to introduce herself afterward & might have rounded up either another two volunteers for somewhere on the Rock n' Roll/Mardi Gras course, or two more participants to join the party.

It doesn't take much to thank a volunteer; it could take the form of a smile & a nod as you pass by, it could take the form of a handshake & a compliment to a race director, or an e-mail to the club which puts the event on...even if there's something which can be improved, they usually like to know their efforts are appreciated.

It's what makes the day for them.

One Toe Over The Line...

I went out and ran my first 5K road race in many months a couple of weeks ago. I needed to run a test 5K to assess my fitness level & adjust some of the training intensities, & the weather was just beginning to feel less like Florida. 'Why not?' I said to myself. I didn't perform anywhere near as well as I hoped, but it proved some things I already knew:

A four-week training vacation at the beginning of the summer is never a good idea.

Ten excess pounds does add an extra minute of time to an estimated 5K race performance.

Change...and inertia...can coexist.

Over a cup of coffee & breakfast with my wife & Walter, a local running friend, I took a thirty-minute analysis of what needed to be adjusted in my training & began to make a few small repairs (some of which are in earlier blog posts).

While running a tempo workout the other Wednesday, I passed an old friend. He caught up with me at the bar where we meet after the run & complimented me on how well I had been running lately. Randy loves racing 5K events; he'll not hesitate to jump in his truck & drive an hour so he can run for 25 minutes, then drink light beer for two hours.

From Labor Day to Thanksgiving, here in the Panhandle, there can be anywhere from one up to to three 5K races for a nearly unbroken string of weekends. It then eases off a little into the holiday season & kicks back into swing just after New Years' Day. Randy asked me where I planned to race this weekend. I had to tell him, 'nowhere, my friend.' Not that I don't like racing 5Ks.

When I first started racing, a 5K road race could leave me napping in the recliner for the remainder of the day. As I've matured...all right, aged...I've become more functional. Slower in my walk, but more functional.

About five or six years ago we had a large group of guys & gals who would meet to run at 6:00 a.m. on Sundays. The first mile usually would be kinder & gentler; most of the group were still waking up during that time. Inevitably the pace would pick up a little by the first incline. You could sometimes tell who had raced the day before. One of the guys, a fellow by the name of Gary, once told me it was not good training to race the day after a race. He used to tell me, "Mike, the day after a good race I like to go easy. The day after a bad race I like to go easy." Gary's "easy" the day after a race was often tougher than his race pace. Looking back at that statement & the source; it was one of those "things that make you go 'hmmm...'"

Once the guys (and the occasional chick!) forgot we left our bib numbers on the coffee table the previous afternoon & would begin to string out the group, my coach would have to remind me to not get "happy feet." It was a historical inevitability the front-running pace would eventually slack off. The group always reformed before the water stop at 40 minutes into the run.

Racing, when done right, is painful business. Even if you don't have a number on your chest.

What is it about pinning a bib number & toeing a line with a herd of runners that makes otherwise sane persons suddenly become brain-dead about how hard they need to run? I've often warned my athletes an "easy effort" on race day is almost impossible unless they're truly disciplined. Too many good potential 10K, half-marathon or marathon performances have been spit-canned by jumping into a 5K "just for fun."

The occasional race is a good thing. It serves as a social outlet, sharpens up a runner's skills, & lets them know exactly where they stand in the grand old pecking order of runners. But sometimes too much of a good thing can be harmful. My friend Betsy decided to run four...or five...marathons in a year about two years ago. When she asked what I thought about her running the fifth one that year I had to take a very deep breath and stifle the urge to shriek in horror: "Are you out of your mind!?"

There are several rules of thumb which ought to be followed, more or less, when it comes to recovery or hard training after a race:

1. A day of non-impact exercise or rest - I prefer rest - for every hour of racing.

2. A day of easy training efforts for every mile raced.

If you have developed a good base of training & love to do half-marathon distance races, you can probably segue into a 12-week cycle after a week or so. Marathoners can probably segue into a new 12-to-16 week cycle after two to three weeks.

As always - like Jiminy Cricket - let your conscience & your body be your guide.

Because it will tell you when you aren't following the rules.

All God's (Running) Children Got Shoes...

I got home the other evening from a five-day trip to San Francisco, where I had the pleasure of accompanying my wife on one of her telecommunications conference/business jaunts. I don't enjoy business travel, but I can tolerate what can be best described as "pleasure" travel; trips where I don't have to do too much save for drink beer, drink coffee, eat, exercise, read, and sleep. Those trips are usually "earned" by participating in a small amount of "sherpa" activity, carrying back extra or excess "stuff" in my luggage which probably shouldn't have been brought (or bought!) by my loving wife in the first place.

So, I often bring clothing items I can readily jettison on the last morning of the trip, which usually includes a single pair of running shoes at the end of their effective life span. I decided to sacrifice my oldest pair of shoes on travel after seeing one too many shoeless indigents walking down Caroline Street in Key West, FL. To a homeless person, a beat-up pair of running shoes is better than no shoes at all. I try to clean the shoes a day or two before the end of trip and leave a note for the housekeeping staff. The act of perhaps helping another person in a world of hurt by giving them something as simple as a pair of old shoes also helps me try to not hurt myself by running in a pair of running shoes which is too old.

Every so often I get an athlete who complains of sore feet, ankles, shins, knees...sometimes even sore hips and low back. I immediately look to their shoes to see their condition, then ask the question most runners cannot answer: 'how long - in miles & months - have you had those shoes?" If a runner has pain & their shoes have less than 300 miles/six months then the root cause is either something biomechanical, something overuse, or they're in a pair of shoes which isn't right for their foot type. But it's more likely that the runner cannot tell me how many miles or how many months they have had that particular shoe...which usually means they've had the shoe too long.

Most shoes will last an average of 400 miles or eight months, whichever comes first; a ballpark figure which has wiggle room on either side based on the runner's weight, weather conditions, sweat rate & terrain choice. Runners (like me) who sweat a great deal & run in humid climates go through shoes at varying rates throughout the year; shoes purchased in October or November last a few miles/weeks longer than shoes purchased in March. Lighter, less-sweaty runners can almost figure out down to the week when they'll need a new pair. I keep track of the cumulative mileage for each pair of running shoes I have - I rotate between three pairs because I do sweat - on my training log spreadsheet. If I start feeling an ache in the foot or ankle I can look at the mileage & determine whether the cause is training volume/intensity or if it's time to look for a new pair of shoes.

There are several ways to tell whether a pair of shoes is near the end of their lifespan. The most humorous, & probably the most noxious, sign your shoes are dead is when they literally smell dead. I've taken a "truly dead" pair into a local running shoe store to get a replacement, & they begged me to leave the shoes outside at the curb in a biohazard baggie. But that's really the most extreme case of zombie shoe you should ever see. Personally, I hope you never go that long between shoe purchases.

The biomechanically-challenged runner will wear the outer sole rubber off at the places we used to wear out our old Converse Chuck Taylors, at the heels or the balls of their feet. I've seen some shoes with the outer sole under the big toe worn smooth. Typical runners, however, will have crushed mid-sole, where all that nice, white foamy EVA has serious crinkling along the sides of the shoe. You can also tell if the midsole is dying or dead by taking the sockliner (another term for the shoe's insoles) out & giving the EVA a push with your fingertip. If there's no give when you push or rebound when you release the midsole is probably dead.

Lastly, when the EVA looks & feels good and the outer sole looks like a champ, take a close look at the places along the shoe where the upper portion of the shoe joins with the sole. If there is a break between the shoe upper & the sole, the chances are high it's time to replace the shoe. Those are usually the most heart-rending replacement times for a guy like me, because I've just become happiest with the fit & feel of the shoe. But, regardless of whatever emotional attachment you might have with that old shoe, when it says "it's not you but them", it's time for them to leave. New sockliners (insoles) should only be placed into those old running shoes if you plan to use them for kick-arounds, gardening, or lawn-mowing. Or if you're one of those folks who likes your workplace footwear to say, "yes, I am a runner," or, "yes, I like to get paid to do things while wearing ugly running shoes."

But a job where you can get away with being paid while wearing ugly running shoes is a beautiful thing. Ask any coach.

If At First You Don't Succeed

Got up at oh-dark-thirty a couple of mornings ago to run a ten-mile race simulation workout. If that statement coming from me does not provide a deep sense of foreboding, then stick around; the sense progresses from ankle-to-knee depth in nothing flat. Even on the most-industrious of training days, save for the ones when I visit my New Orleans friends (I have to justify my dietary indiscretion!) I don't get out the door any earlier than 7 a.m. Yes, race days are a different story, hence the simulation workout being so darn early. So, I began my early morning ritual: Feed the dog, fire up the coffee pot & await the, er, signs which tell me my body is completely awake. After dressing & stepping out the door it was time to start; why stand around thinking about what needs to be done? The sooner I start the run the sooner I can get on with breakfast & the rest of the day.

I figured the first two miles would be a bit of a slog; my body is usually in a state of denial, or shock, at the thought of running. After two miles my heart & lungs figure out what is happening & join in on the "fun." However, at two miles I began to feel some sharp pains in both of my heels. I decided to see if I could continue through the discomfort; perhaps the plantar tendons would loosen up enough to let me finish the run. At two-and-a-half miles my gut decided to join in on the chorus of complaints. Game over. Shut it down. Walk it home. Call it a day.

The law of cause-and-effect rings true in running: For every action we take, there is the opportunity for the body to exert an equal & sometimes opposite reaction...which it will if certain laws are not followed. Running places stress on our body, which it learns to adapt to over time. After a while, the stress which caused us to lay on the couch all afternoon only tires us for an hour or so; eventually we get stronger because of the stuff we first thought would kill us. See? Nietzsche was right! This is essence of training - we throw our body little curveballs to make it stronger.

The problem when we start running is, we feel too good about the first stresses & overestimate how much the body can take. That's why new runners eventually get dinged up, & old runners (like me) occasionally nurse overuse injuries - plantar fasciitis, achilles tendonitis, iliotibial band syndrome & patellofemoral joint pain, just to name a few - when we make a few too many changes in our training plan before thinking about the effect. Add some hill repeats or bridge running when you're used to training on the flats, or increase the intensity or mileage beyond the level your body can stand, & the next thing you know you are gobbling ibuprofen like it's candy.
Here's a list of some of the most common running-related (overuse) injuries, causes & treatments:

Symptom: Swelling & pain around joint (i.e., ankle).
Possible Diagnosis: Sprain.
Possible Cause: Applying weight to foot in a rolled position, while running or jumping on an uneven surface.
Treatment: Rest, ice, compression & elevation for 7-10 days. Anti-inflammatories to reduce pain and inflammation. Gradual progress to weight-bearing exercise as tolerated. See a doctor if injury does not respond to treatment in two weeks.

Symptom: Pain at back of ankle.
Possible Diagnosis: Achilles tendinosis.
Possible Cause: Tight or weak calf muscles. Too much training, hill running or speedwork. Excess stretching can aggravate the problem.
Treatment: Reduce/stop hill/speed work. Gently stretch calves after exercise, & ice the tendon area. Strengthen the calf muscles (toe raises, balancing on your toes, wall stretching). Cross train on some “easy” days.

Symptom: Muscle pain, soreness or stiffness.
Possible Diagnosis: Delayed onset muscle soreness.
Possible Cause: Microscopic tearing of the muscle fibers from exercise. Eccentric muscle contractions, like downhill running, going down stairs, and squats cause this most.
Treatment: Rest, ice, compression and elevation for 7-10 days. Anti-inflammatories to reduce pain and inflammation. Drink more fluids.Symptom: Pain along the outside of the knee and lower thigh, especially when going down stairs or getting up from a seat.
Possible Diagnosis: Iliotibial (IT) band syndrome.
Possible Cause: Common in runners who run only on one side of a crowned road. Biomechanical abnormalities, muscle tightness or lack of flexibility in the gluteal (buttock) or quadriceps (thigh) muscles.
Treatment: Rest, ice, compression and elevation. Anti-inflammatories to reduce pain. Decrease mileage. Consider a physical therapy visit for leg strengthening exercises.

Symptom: Pain under or around kneecap, worsening with activity, while descending stairs, etc.
Possible Diagnosis: Patellofemoral pain syndrome.
Possible Cause: Likely the way the patella tracks along the groove of the femur, depending on muscle strength and balance, use, & tracking. This means the cause may be from a variety of different factors, to include muscle imbalance & shoe breakdown.
Treatment: Rest. Non-impact exercise, like swimming. You may want a physician or physical therapist to coordinate your treatment with additional strengthening & stretching.

Symptom: Pain under the glute/buttocks.
Possible Diagnosis: Piriformis syndrome
Possible Cause: Shortening of the muscle and compression of the nerve. Overuse of glutes & other hip muscles can also cause piriformis muscle spasms. Other factors include gait problems, poor body mechanics & posture.
Treatment: Stretching & strengthening of the core and glutes & the best treatment for piriformis syndrome.
Symptom: Pain in the heel, especially during the first steps in the morning/of a run.
Possible Diagnosis: Plantar fasciitis
Possible Cause: Flat feet, high arches, excess pronation, weight gain, tight achilles’ tendons, sudden changes in workout intensity/time/type/surface, poor shoes.
Treatment: Nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs. Stretch the achilles’ tendon. Massage the sole, achilles’ tendon & calf with a roller. Walk/run in proper footwear – no barefoot walking or running.

Symptom: Pain at front of lower leg, along shin bone.
Possible Diagnosis: Shin splints.
Possible Cause: Improper stretching, lack of warm-up, hard surfaces, improper footwear, biomechanical problems.
Treatment: Rest, ice, compression & elevation for 7-10 days. An anti-inflammatory can help reduce pain & inflammation. Gradual progress to pain-free weight-bearing exercise. See a doctor if injury does not respond to treatment in three weeks.

So when it comes to increasing the amount of mileage or time you spend running, the best rule is to not increase by more than ten percent; and that ten percent should be stretched across the week as much as possible. When looking at pace and effort, the percentage of maximum heart rate multiplied by time can provide a training stress score which can be tracked over time. Lastly, when dealing with hill/bridge repeats, err on the side of caution; easy paces and cautious increase in volume.

If at first you don't succeed in learning how to wisely increase your workout volume, don't worry. Your body will let you know it's time to try, try again.

My Name Is Pain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Doing Doubles

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

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

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

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

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

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

So Many Nice-Looking Shoes

You want to fall in love with a shoe, go ahead. A shoe can't love you back, but, on the other hand, a shoe can't hurt you too deeply either. And there are so many nice-looking shoes. - Allan Sherman

Half of the fun of coaching new runners is the reminder of how simple the sport of running can be. If you have a good pair of running shoes & a good path on which to run, there's not much else you need to start. Once the new runner gets to transiting the pathway over time is where the troubles begin. As youngsters, we knew we weren't going to get a new pair of shoes until we wore the previous pair out, to the point we had toes sticking out, run down heels, & so on. Runners start having issues with soreness in the feet, small & large weight-bearing joints, & in most extreme cases, low back pain or even the risk of a stress-related injury.

A good case in point is one of my newest runners, Marie. She's young & a relatively new runner, who's been out for a handful of my track workouts. I noticed her shoes on her first Saturday morning workout didn't look all that new, but didn't ask her the 'how old are those shoes?' question until the track workout three days later. What got my attention was her flamingo-like stance in between a few easy-paced repeats, followed by a dead stop in her tracks. At that moment I could tell something was very, very wrong.

I called to Marie across the track to stop and walk across the infield. I then walked through the infield to speak to her. 'What hurts?' Marie told me it was her right knee. 'Okay, what have you done differently over the past few days?' She said she hadn't run any since the workout on Saturday. Now the litmus test: 'How long have you had those shoes?' Marie told me she had owned the New Balance shoes she was running in for approximately a year. 'Okay, most running shoes have a life span of six-to-nine months or 400-to-500 miles, so it looks like you are very overdue for another pair of running shoes.'

'Coach, I bought a pair of Asics running shoes the other day, & tried to run in them, but they hurt my feet,' was the next statement from Marie. She then told me the store from where the shoes were purchased. I then asked her a rhetorical question, 'so, you purchased a pair of running shoes without knowing what type of shoe is best for you, & they hurt your feet. Do you think they are the right shoe for you?' She answered that she didn't think they were.

This, especially with new runners, is where the prescriptive side of coaching begins: 'Okay, Marie. Your workout is over for the day. No running for you, of any type, until you go see the local running proprietor, have them do a gait analysis to see what kind of shoe you need, & get you into a pair of proper shoes...' I then told her, '...I've made the same mistakes in the past. I've purchased discount shoes from an on-line sporting goods seller, without knowing the shoe...I've trained for & raced a marathon in shoes I bought on sale, which didn't provide enough support, & injured me for three months. The right shoes are a pain to get, but the wrong shoes can injure you, & in the case of longer-distance races, will.'

When it comes to running shoes, you definitely get what you pay for. A good running store with knowledgeable staff can make certain you only pay once from your wallet. Good shoes are less expensive than cheap shoes when you look at physical therapist, physician or orthopedic specialist fees, time off from running, & come-back after an extended injury lay-off.

Are We Having Fun Yet?

Last Thursday was the first time I stepped on the track to run since the marathon. I did three miles on the treadmill the week before, which was not only painful but discouraging, especially when my heart rate shot up faster for an eight-minute-per-mile pace than it would be for something, er, a little bit more relaxed. I lumbered through the two mile warm-up, as well as some easy striders, but had to shut it all down during the first 300-meter piece. Too much bang bang.
First thought was well, it definitely is not the right pair of shoes for running. So, I went to see the owner of my friendly neighborhood runninig emporium...got into a more-cushioned pair of shoes and went out for a quick trot on the sidewalk. Bang bang bang...still not good. After a brief, animated discussion, we figured out my issue is not just shoe-related, but biomechanical, reinforced by the wrong shoe. When an experienced (under three-hour) marathoner tells you he would not run a marathon in the shoes you used, that's not a good sign. Nothing like getting slapped around by a guy who you give a hundred bucks every couple of months, no?

Great fun over the past weekend. Nothing like sitting on your butt for five hours on the highway, followed by sitting on your butt for 20 hours in a college auditorium learning everything you ever wanted to know about track and field coaching but were afraid to ask. Oh, yeah, add another five-hour drive on the return. There are things I probably never will have to do as a coach...like teach someone how to pole vault. But, you never know, dude. It could happen. I guess if I were the king of track and field I would divide the level 1 course into the relevant areas (sprints, jumps, throws, endurance) like level 2 presently is. However, I guess if you look hard and long enough you can find common threads in all of the disciplines.

Yes, it was a weekend where there was not enough coffee and too much Taco Bell. After two meals there, and one in a Mexican restaurant (all right, I have to admit I would have gone to the Chinese joint further up the way in the strip mall but I couldn't find a parking spot close enough), all I wanted on the way home was something that didn't look like fast food. I chose the wrong exit on Interstate 10 to pull off for a bite to eat, though; of the four restaurants, three of them were fast food joints co-located with gas stations. The only stand-alone joint was a Waffle House kind of place. All right. At least I can get a cup of coffee and a ham-and-cheese omelet and be certain of its origin being somewhere else than a cardboard box.

I have a love-hate relationship with traveling, yet it has to be done if you want to compete outside of your own back yard or learn anything. Maybe someday I'll get it figured out, how to get the best of both worlds - staying comfortable and going places - while I expand my own horizons.

Live To Fight Another Day

Up this morning to make my way to the swimming pool...the hammies were oinking, the quads were multiplying their pain response somewhere closer to octaves, and the calves were definitely mooing. The cacaphony of catastrophic proportions - muscle and joint pain at all-time highs - encouraged me to turn back to the (relative) warmth of my bed. Humor notwithstanding, both the missus and I were in a world of pain two days after our marathon experience. I felt guilty for not doing anything today, but if you follow the rule of thumb; no activity for the number of days equal to the number of hours you race, no hard training for the number of days equal of miles you race, well...I still owe myself a day...or two...
The marathon is a humbling experience. I've said this before. Fortunately, I still can smile about what happened on Sunday.
We had conditions on the warm and humid side; not good for marathoning, but nice for Florida in mid-December. My athletes and myself, not to mention 2,000 friends, blew off the line at a couple of minutes after seven to run the full and the half marathon.
I had both my heart rate monitor and my running watch to keep track of my mile splits and my effort. Well, I also wanted to keep track of Suzanne's performance (she had the goal of beating Katie Holmes' NYC marathon time of 5:30) for her own record-keeping. Ah, but enough about her. This is all about me.
The first half-marathon was good for the first eleven miles with splits of 7:30, 7:16, 7:14, 7:24, 7:06, 7:15, 7:12, 7:20, 7:24, 7:26, and 7:29. At that point, I hit a section of the course I had not seen and didn't take the time to look at on Google Earth; I'm usually anal about studying courses because I need to know exactly where I'm going and what to expect on the trip back. The splits went to 7:44 and 7:35.
I hit the half-marathon point with eight minutes to play with on the return trip. The calf cramps began at 14 and stayed to mile 20. I never had them bilaterally, but they would swap off; one would tighten up and cause me to walk for about 30 seconds, after which I could run for a couple of minutes...in time for the other calf to join in the fun. My splits went from 7:30-ish in the front 13 to 7:51, 8:41, 10:25, 9:23, 8:46, and 9:36. I then tried to adjust my stride to keep the calves from firing too much, and had taken in all of my fluid and gels to get glucose to the muscles. After a 12:25 mile at mile 20, I did the math and knew the eight minutes I had at 13.1 had been spent. My right achilles' tendon was swollen and sore from the change in stride mechanics.
At that point I had three choices:
1 - drop out of the race.
2 - push the pace and try to get back on the good side of 3:30.
3 - walk the last 6.2 miles.
None of the three are emotionally or psychologically satisfying, and one of them could have led to some serious long-term consequences. So, in order to pay respect to the course and the other participants who were slogging it out in various stages of ecstasy and pain, I decided to walk it in. I wasn't going to get my Boston qualifier, but it was still a nice day for a walk.
I did learn some lessons from the weekend:
Regardless of how well you think you have trained, 26.2 will beat you senseless if one little thing goes wrong. In my case, I was racing on borrowed training; a base shortened by six weeks because of a fractured humerus, a peak performance months too soon, and a few too many bad training days near the end. I toed the starting line gimpy and fragile, and paid the piper.
However, I was smart enough to quit trying to race when I felt the first danger signs. I'm hurting today, I got lit up by the marathon. I may not do another marathon, but I get to live to fight another day.
You be cocky and arrogant, even when you're getting beat. That's the secret. You gotta play this game with fear and arrogance. -- Crash Davis (Kevin Costner), in "Bull Durham" (1988)

ECRT/Snickers Marathon Team Log: Dayton River Corridor Half

Just got through the last of Thursday's, Friday's and yesterday's e-mails and made my boss copacetic again...ha, ha, ha... Now I can pass along my weekend in Dayton.

I'm not a big fan of air travel; well, flying is fine, it's that dehumanizing stuff that goes part-and-parcel with homeland security that bothers the heck out of me. But enough of that. This year, we were smart enough to NOT go out for a seven-mile run in Clifton Gorge the day before the half. HOWEVER, we did do a couple of nice long walks on Friday afternoon and Saturday morning...perfect...just enough to keep the brain happy and not ruin our races.

This ended up being a dining extravaganza for the group; we did most of the places that we hit last year, save for Saturday night. Instead of Spaghetti Warehouse in Dayton, we got together with the RD and his wife and did Beef O'Brady's; Ray (RD) had a great time needling me, as I was cheering for LSU and the whole joint was rooting for Louisville. Well, the reason we didn't do SW this time (I think) was because we did Giovanni's on Friday evening and nearly all of us were trying to detox from the garlic; Giovanni's house dressing was loaded with the stuff, as well as their calamari.

We worked the pre-registration and race-day packet pick-up again. Fortunately, this year the race started an hour later and we had some very smart Univ. of Dayton kids working our table, so all we had to do was train them, then sit back and help clear up any problems. If it had been a repeat of last year we all would have had a crappy morning.

Temperature/condition at race start was about 58 degrees and high overcast; for those of us from Florida that's nearly perfect conditions. Most of the local participants are good at self-seeding, and maybe perhaps a little too good, because there was a big space between the front line and the crowd. Nice problem to have.

First mile was a 6:04. I knew as I made the first turn onto the bridge on Stewart St. that it was going to be a fast start pace. I worried a little bit: 'did I just sacrifice my race for a suicidal first mile?' Second mile split was called at 12:12; I still was not pleased and knew something screwy was bound to happen. I didn't feel good at all from the get-go, really; my right hamstring was tight at the junction of the lower glute (sounds like something strength-related, but I cannot tell).

Rather than deal with the hassle of taking cups of fluid on the fly (an issue I've had in the past), or not drinking altogether (another issue I've had) I carried a small 8.5 oz bottle of water with a (whole) Nuun tablet dissolved. Half a tablet is good for 8 oz of water, but I had no clue what to do with the other half and I didn't want to put it back into the tube with the other ones. So I had something to take a hit of every ten minutes or so. A warning for those of you who might think about using Nuun as part of your hydration plan: It's mildly carbonated and it will fizz up in a hand-carried bottle; so don't use a twist-off cap or it will spray you in the face. I had a sense of deja vu every time I opened the bottle, it was like what happened to me every time someone else stuffed a lime in their Corona on Friday or Saturday evening.

Last year, there were several guys who were running near my pace for the first three-to-four miles, so I had plenty of company as we went down toward the UD boathouse and toward the bike path. This year, however, either I was going faster than my contemporaries or the field got much stronger...a great majority of the race felt like a time trial from the first two miles or so. I got the pace issue worked out on the front half of the race, fortunately, and managed to go through the first 6 miles in the low 38 range.

The first signs of 'dude, it's time to pay for those first two miles' came once we got on the bottom side of the loop (turnaround) in West Carrolton. We got onto the street (very narrowly coned off, here - barely one person wide) and off the corridor bike path at that point; I could hear the breathing and footsteps of someone behind me. I must not have been hurting as badly as I thought, because he stayed right there until we got back onto the bike path and the bridge at about 7.5 miles. Even then, the guy was not putting any big distance on me. I saw Suzanne on the bike path, running relaxed and smiling. She cheered as I went by; I looked at her with that 'I'm hurting, can you tell?' look. At the bike path, Coach Rich Davis (my coach's friend) was coming from the opposite direction (a few miles back)...looking quite relaxed. He told me 'you're 19th.' About that point, all thoughts of backing off and "mailing the return trip in" went out the window.

I changed my hydration schedule from taking a swig every ten minutes to taking a swig every mile, not that it was mattering much. I quit trying to do the 'what's my pace?' math after mile 10; at that point it gets to be too much mental. Eever try to do that stuff when you don't have enough oxygen to go to your muscles, much less your head? Pace bands or GPS are probably required or highly regarded at that point, if you're not mathematically gifted.

I was getting worried about whether four or five runners were going to roll up on me like last year. Didn't happen. In fact, I was the one who managed to roll up on about three or four, including the guy that got me before mile 7. I swung wide to the right side of the path as I came around him; he tried to slide in behind me, at which point I put in a five second surge and a slide to the left side of the path. I was not going to let anyone ride me in to the finish area.

I had one last guy who was about ten yards ahead of me from mile 12 (where I finally ditched the bottle) on. I could see he was rigging too, but there was nothing left in the tank. At the turn down into the parking lot, about 800 meters from the finish, Dale was telling me to 'get that guy.' I almost told him, 'trip him, then I can...' There was zero left for anything that looked like a kick. When we got 200 meters out from the finish, the guy pulled whatever he had left out for the kick...I had little left but fumes. I finished in 1:23:44, taking third in my age group and finishing somewhere in the top 20. For a few seconds there I was disappointed at running a one minute personal best for the half and STILL getting stomped on by two guys in my age group, until I looked at the names: John Agnew and Mike Michno. John's a three-time winner of the DRCC. Mike also is a three-time winner and has a sub-four-minute mile (or more) to his credit.

So, the DRCC was a good mid-season tune-up and test of fitness for Jacksonville. I think I'm on track for a decent day in December, once I get the hydration down pat. The long runs that are scheduled for this next six weeks and the longer mid-week tempo efforts should help. Biggest issue of all is developing pace discipline; if I go out at a low six-minute pace for the first two miles of a marathon I will be so totally screwed.