Bruised In A New Place

"There is a certain relief in change, even though it be from bad to worse! As I have often found in traveling...that it is often a comfort to shift one's position, and be bruised in a new place." - Washington Irving

The season has begun to change, and just in the nick of time for this ol' coach/runner. Tampa winters, all 14 of them, I could tolerate; there might (or might not!) be a week of nasty cold weather around the turn of the year, and February could have its moments here and there. But February is a short month and we could always look with longing to nice conditions in March.

Pensacola, on the other hand, has been a completely different story. How could a city which was more northerly be more hot, more humid and more...well...blah, during the summer? And, to top that all off, predictable in its climatic unpredictability in those months which possess an "R"?

It has been nice to get back on the streets, even if it's for twenty minutes at a time right now. I did go for a sixty-minute walk yesterday morning while my wife ran on the same course. I marveled at the blooms and buds, shoots and flowers which began to make their presence known as I strolled past some of the front yards in the neighborhood just a half mile from my home. It began to make me think life was going to be all right.

Then, I remembered it was the last days of February. March was not far behind.

March, here in the "Redneck Riviera," does not enter or depart like either a lion or a lamb. It's like a - lab - as in labrador retreiver. Smart enough to figure out how you're going to react, friendly enough while you're around, but if you fail to keep an eye on them then say farewell to those really nice shoes you just got on sale. March here doesn't go in one way and out in another...it comes in, makes a mess, then asks you (while you're comfortable in front of the tube)to let it back out. Ah, but we love it and wouldn't want it any other way. Especially the weekend around St. Patrick's Day, when we have the largest 5,000-meter prediction run in the country.

My wife and I went to brunch the other morning, after our morning efforts, with one of our closest friends, Charley and Sheila. We marveled at the conditions and wondered whether they would persist until the first week of May, when our summertime conditions show in full force. I then said, "Don't get too excited about this nice weather, because you know it's all going to hit the fan during the weekend of McGuire's. It will either be fantastic on the day and horrible immediately after, or it will be really nasty cold." Charley then laughed at the fact I would remember years past and the temperature tendencies; 80 degrees one day, 35 the next.

Forecast schizophrenia.

To plan for the McGuire's 5K, we pull out the racing attire we want to wear, the stuff we were forced to wear at the '07 Crescent City Classic, and then the oldest running gear we have, on which we won't mind having nasty green beer poured or spilled by someone else. Place all those items in a laundry basket (or "the bag" I wrote about a couple of weeks ago), shake them up and pluck out the first items which keep us from being busted for indecent exposure.

But getting back to the blooms, the weather and all...I started to think about what was going to happen to those pretty buds, blossoms and flowers which were starting to spring and would be meteorologically-blindsided by the middle of the month. They probably reacted to something in nature in the way plants react when everything seems to be all right. I looked at each of those gorgeous blooming trees and all I could think was: 'you fool, you fool...'

Those trees and I had a lot in common last Monday morning, after I did 4.5 miles, the first lick of running after three weeks without a step. Everything reverted back to something like normal. And then, reality set in around Tuesday evening. That chunk of running was a shock to my system, one which left me hobbling for the remainder of the week. Not only were there muscles I hadn't offended in a long time which were now very upset at me, but they took their cues from the unhappy people in Egypt; if protest could topple a 40-year rule, it certainly could hobble a (nearly) 50-year-old man. Every step going down stairwells at work caused my legs to fire uncontrollably. There were moments where my leg buckled as I was teaching my seminar late in the week. I hadn't felt this bad since my marathon walk-of-shame in 2007.

I had, as the Irving quote above suggests, felt the relief of change; the transition from sidelined runner to slow runner. Naturally, the bruises and discomfort had come, not so much in new places, but in places common to new runners. Nothing that time, patience, self-massage, hydration and non-steroidal anti-inflammatories could not alleviate.

Ah, the ache of being a born-again runner.

The Size Of The Dog In The Fight

"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog." - Samuel Langhorne Clemens, a.k.a. Mark Twain (1835-1910)

My personal best at the 5,000 meter distance on the roads came at the tail end of a great season of training & racing with a couple of really good guys, guys who would definitely be on my short list of favorite training partners in the past. As I think about them, one guy definitely stands out from the others; he brought out the best (on rare occasions the worst) in me at the track & on the roads.

Mike was one of those guys who did not look like a "typical runner". Really. Think about the folks you see when you show up at a local road race; most are milling about in their singlets & shorts doing their stretches, jogging their striders. Everybody's tense, as if their self-image depends on running a personal best. Well, everybody except for Mike. To see him before the start of a race, (or hanging out at the track before a workout, for that matter) you would scratch your head in wonder: Did this guy miss the turn to the softball field & somehow end up here? So, right off the bat you would discount this guy's ability to be at the front of the field, or at least in front of you.

That is, until the gun went off. Mike was the kind of runner who could blow your doors off at the first mile; he could lay back & wait patiently until the three-mile point, then kick past you as you're "dying". Either way, you would gasp in wonder at the finish: "how can a BIG guy run so quickly?"There are factors involved in running which cannot be easily measured, such as motivation, discipline & mental toughness - some or all of these qualities can make the difference between a person being a good runner & a very good runner. But, there are measurable factors which can help determine potential running performance, or determine the level for potential improvement.

The first measure I've talked about in the recent past, VO2max. VO2max is defined as the maximum capacity of an individual's body to transport and use oxygen during exercise; the more physically fit you are, supposedly, the higher your VO2max. A person's VO2max can be affected by age, gender, fitness, training, altitude change, & action of the muscles involved in breathing. It's a measure lots of runners strive to improve - I've had runners come to me to help them improve their VO2max - the first thing I tell them is that VO2max is a relatively poor predictor of running performance.

The most recent example I have encountered is a young lady training for her first iron-distance triathlon. She wanted to improve her VO2max (which I translated as "I need to get my running speed up") but I soon found she was lacking in running economy. She had a very loud footstrike, which I reasoned was due to overstriding & a low cadence. So, even the most physiologically gifted runner can be hampered by poor running economics, & the intangibles of mental toughness & motivation can either help the runner resist fatigue...or to give in to it on the day.

I was recently reminded by Coach Patrick McCrann from Marathon Nation of the relevance of body composition - weight, literally - to running performance. He reminded me of research which alluded to an increase of two seconds per mile, all other factors being equal, for every excess pound of body weight. It's fairly simple to realize - especially in the case of persons who have too much weight on their frame - how excess weight makes it difficult to run (or even walk, in some cases). But it's a little harder to explain to a five-foot, eight-inch runner who weighs 165-to-170 pounds (depending on the time of year) those extra 10-to-15 pounds could mean the difference between a 1:35 and a 1:29 half marathon time.

Guys like my buddy Mike - who is now what John L. Parker, Jr. described as "Once A Runner" because of knee injuries - & a lot of my contemporaries are confounded in their efforts to drop those few extra pounds by the very nature of their lifestyle. Believe me, I'm preaching to myself on this one, too; my love of beer & pizza has to be continually moderated with a (renewed) love for lean meats & veggies.

There are certain cross-training activities for which I need to be careful. I know there's a solid ten pounds of muscle in my upper body which come from swimming for triathlons. I can still fit into the same size pants I did when I started running, but several of my favorite shirts have had to be sacrificed. Naturally, there's a fine thin line under which your weight probably should not go. Keeping track of your running performances & your weight at the same time is a good idea; there will be a certain weight at which you begin to feel more fatigued & less swift...that's the weight floor.

In closing, a good way to be (to borrow from a few of my favorite songs) "bigger than your body gives you credit for" on race day is to become less of a person than you used to be. Dropping a few pounds may be the edge to give you those extra seconds you need to make that personal best.