Marathon Training: Running's "Rubik's Cube"

The marathon is the "Rubik's Cube" of running.  You can pull one right out of the container that's in perfect condition, and no sooner than you start to screw around with it you end up making things a mess.  One that's almost impossible to return back to the original state.  A runner who takes up the idea of doing a marathon without at least four years of (preferably injury-free!) training and racing of distances up to the half-marathon is asking to twist the bejeezus out of a brand-new Rubik's Cube.

The hardest part is not doing the training that's necessary to prepare for that day of 26.21876 miles, it's doing the training without becoming injured.  Most of the published marathon training plans have long runs of up to 22 miles.  Some longer.  And most written for a general population.  Look at a plan written by coaches in areas where the metric system reigns supreme and you'll find the longest run is 30 kilometers (18.641136 miles).  When laid up against the 50-mile or 80-kilometer week, that single long run will take up half of the training mileage (and possibly more than half of the time) spent training.  I'm more of a fan of spreading the mileage (50-to-60 miles) out throughout the week, with the longest run of the week around 16 miles, or 26 kilometers, a distance which can be covered by most trained runners in 2.5 hours or less.

Even then, there are runners who don't have large chunks of time to spare in their life.  They can manage to squirrel away 8-to-10 hours during the early morning or later evening.  Some ask if it's better to get the week's mileage in large chunks, say a long run of 12-to-16 miles on the weekend, and runs of 8-to-10 miles during the rest of the week.  While there are some physiological benefits to pushing a 60-to-90 minute run one additional day of the week, the risk of injury increases as the runner goes out for longer duration sessions...especially as you approach that 2.5-hour mark.  Add to that the amount of time it takes to recover either at home or at work and running "singles" may be a more-hazardous endeavor than first thought. 

And what happens if there's a family visitor or a social function going on that cuts into that (for example) 90-minute planned run on the schedule?  My take is that a shorter run of good quality is better than cutting short that planned longer effort and feeling guilty about the whole thing.  I like splitting runs, both between morning and evening, and between evening and the following morning.  Sure, you're decreasing the amount of time the body has for recovery, often by as much as one-half, but you're also decreasing the amount of time you're out on the run.  And if something comes up on the social schedule it's not a complete disaster. 

When it comes to the "long run" on the training schedule, not only do I split the run between Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, I borrow a race execution strategy from a fellow coach, Patrick McCrann.  I have the athlete run the Saturday "half" of the long run at the pace they'll run for the first six miles of the marathon.  Then, on Sunday morning, I have them run the assigned distance, half at the pace we planned for the middle third of the marathon, half at the goal pace for the final ten kilometers of the race.  It's more difficult for the athlete to execute the paces because they've done so much quality work from the previous Tuesday afternoon forward they're pushing five or six miles on legs that have accumulated fatigue...no different than the feeling they'll have on race day.  But, they also won't be running as much during the last weeks leading into the race.

During the week, at least on the days when I haven't scheduled a particular intensity, I'm only concerned about the day's duration, which can range anywhere from 45 to 60 minutes.  Anything beyond that is gravy.  And it's important to recover and rest during those times in between runs; if lawn mowing or an extended house maintenance session is planned during the day it's probably better to get the run out of the way early in the day.

There may be a need for doing one or two runs of two hours during marathon training, but the fatigue accumulated through several days of quality work during the week can mitigate the need for a whole lot of them.  There's a solution to the "Rubik's Cube" that is the marathon, the challenge is figuring out what jumbled it all in the first place.

Fun With A Capital "F"

"'Coach,' can you tell us some tips how to run today?"

The question was new for a number of reasons:  First, it was not coming from an athlete I had advised in the past.  Second, it was not coming from an adult athlete.  Lastly it was coming from my grandchildren.

That's right.  The grandchildren.  Both the six-year-old and the three-year-old...and their parents...address me as 'Coach,' but that's a story for another sitting.

I smiled and calmly gave them the advice of ultrarunning legend Walt Stack ("start slow, then taper off"). Their "Grammy," however, rarely listens to the totality of my coaching.  She thought I told them to start slowly and pick up the pace near the end.  However, since it was the kids' second-ever fun run the emphasis was on fun with a capital "F."

Some nine minutes later I could tell they had fun, because it was the first time I got to see them run.  If not for five days of flu-like symptoms I probably would have run along with one of them.

"Why aren't there more fun runs and kid-focused events?"  Suzanne asked.  I stopped my e-mail reading. She had opened up her laptop to search through running club event calendars and was busily writing event dates down.

I took a deep breath, then shared my own perceptions: "First of all you have to follow the money.  Who put on today's event?  What expense did they put into it? And, most of all, what will they get out of it?"

Some cities or running clubs are more kid-friendly or family-friendly when it comes to events and such.  Others give little more than a wink and a nod.  It probably has more to do with a club's or sponsor's ability to take the pulse of the surrounding community and decide to do the greatest good for the largest constituency.

I pointedly reminded my wife that kids are not (necessarily) primary consumers.  While their interests might influence parents to a small degree, it is the parent or adult family member who has the real purchasing power.  While the child might think I'm the coolest for giving them a trinket it's their parent or responsible adult family member I want to bring their money through my doorway.

If the culture which surrounds a club/race is more beer-drinking and adult-flavored socializing than family-oriented - and there are many clubs/events which focus more on the social than the athletic - it is a strong possibility families are not going to bring their kids to runs.  I can think of a handful of popular local run events to which I would never, ever take my grandchildren. If they're going to see adults drink beer it's going to be family members acting in a responsible manner.

I have a friend who works with youth athletes, mainly track, and when I've received a phone inquiry from a parent I've sent the parent his general direction.  In spite of the fact I've been background-checked into the boards so many times I wear hockey pads to my real job, USA Track and Field adds insult to injury and ask for youth coaches to endure one more round of hoop-jumping.  With the amount of bureaucracy above and beyond what the typical club-level coach endures (being a former bureaucrat I know useless bureaucracy when I see it), I decided to not advise or coach any runners under the age of 16.  Yes, even the older youth athlete still has the occasional "little league" parent for a year or few - the college freshman chaperoned by either mother or sibling, the grandparent who asks for your advice within earshot of the runners' present coach - but in most cases the athlete will make decisions for themselves.

I tip my hat in the general direction of the men and women who give of their time and energies to make running a sport which is more than a punishment for ball sports athletes.  And I hope my grandchildren get the chance eventually to see "Coach" at a performance level a little more close to his old self...perhaps they'll see a person who just so happens to like running for its own reward.

Staying The Course During The Perfect Storm

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

My Favorite (Marathon) Mistake

If the "typical" age-group runner were to look at the workouts I post on my training group's blog they would either say the workouts are "too easy" or "too intense." It's always the extremes of the continuum, rarely if ever anything in between. Come out to the track and watch the group go through repeats, and you're more likely to doubt the benefits. 'Nobody,' you would say, 'can improve on that simple a plan.'

The plan rewards patience and consistency: short-distance speed work to focus on the anaerobic system, longer distance repeats to improve the lactate threshhold, long distance runs to develop aerobic and mental fitness, topped off with a few easier efforts here and there. There are no secret workouts, no gimmicks or gadgetry I foist on people; I do tend to get down on the athlete within the first month or so about their shoes, usually after I hear "hey, Coach, I have an ache in my..."

I'm not a control freak who wants to turn every athlete who shows up on Sunday morning, Tuesday evening, or Thursday evening into a "hobby-jogger" "tri-geek" "harrier" like me. Almost all adult athletes have a firm grasp of their strengths, weaknesses, limitations, goals and priorities, so I serve as much as a sanity check or sounding board as I do a provider of workouts. If the athlete has gaps in their plan of action then I feel like it's my role to help out. I'll either refer to materials and resources which have worked in the past, or to seemingly good ideas which failed miserably when I attempted execution.

The relationship is not "one size fits all." Some of my athletes only work with me once a month during an easy jog around the beach. We talk about the mental side of running (and it is true - running is 50 percent physical and 90 percent mental); I provide encouragement and a little humor. Rarely if ever do I need to "spank," because they've done the spanking well enough on their own.

One of my more-active athletes recently missed his desired marathon performance by nine minutes. In spite of his disappointment I had to tip my running cap in his general direction, since he ran about the same time I've done for my best marathon performance.

So, as we stood in the parking lot and talked about the race experience - he ran one of the marathon majors, which adversely affected his race execution - we also talked about some of the other potential barriers to a good marathon performance.

Slow training=slow racing: When we are both working on short(er) track repeats I am more likely to have my heart rate monitor strap handed to me. The most recent 5K he ran, all other factors being equal, would have predicted a couple of minutes faster than his goal time.

Let's remember that term: "all other factors being equal."

He got plenty of long runs - including the "ten the hard way" run with me one Sunday which was the "filling" to his 20-mile "sandwich" run. Trouble was we did more runs at the long run pace and not enough efforts at race pace, which in his case would have been about a minute-per-mile faster.

Family functions+race=focus on everything else: Marathon training - in fact, training for any endurance event - is a selfish activity. As the day approaches the race needs to be looked at like "a day at the office." Without suit and tie. You want to shoehorn a shopping trip, a sightseeing excursion, or a really cool "thanks for supporting my training, honey" dinner when you're in town during the last couple of days before the race? Not a good idea. Sitting on the couch at Barnes and Noble with a cup of Starbucks sounds much better, especially when you spent a hundred bucks in race entry fees and a thousand miles in training. Have we forgotten the term "taper" already? Move the special occasions "to the right" on the calendar, to the recovery days after the race. Sure, you will walk around like a wooden-legged zombie, but it makes a great conversation starter with the waitrons.

P.O.A.&M. or O.U.S.O.B.: Everyone knows all the pithy lines about preparation...failing to prepare is preparing to fail...prior planning prevents poor performance...and so on. Know exactly where your starting corral is relative to the starting line, the first and last five kilometers of the course, and as many of the aid stations as possible. Study the terrain, the turns, the tarmac and the temperatures. Leave nothing to chance.

While in the corral take a look around at your fellow runners. If a lot of them are wearing headphones it might be a good idea to move forward of them, if at all possible. See a lot of matching singlets and tops? The best way to keep from fartleking and swerving away from the "six-abreast-singing-kumbaya-red-rover-my-foot" rambling groups is to get in front of them IMMEDIATELY. Carry your own (throwaway) fluid bottle so you don't get hung up in the first two aid stations on the course. Trust me. You'll thank me later. If you don't the medical staff most likely will.

If you've made it through the marathon training fit, healthy and prepared to run your best race, don't make the mistake of looking at it as another race. There are no guarantees of the next starting line, so make the ones you get to count.

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.

The Kindness of Strangers

"Success depends upon previous preparation, and without such preparation there is sure to be failure." - Confucius (551-479 BCE)

I made a woman cry this weekend.

I told her something she didn't want to hear.

Before you consider me cold and heartless, let me tell you the front half of the story...

I was standing out in a grassy transition area with thousands of bicycles on racks all around me, watching athletes check in their bicycles for the Ochsner Ironman 70.3 New Orleans.

Many questions were asked of me: Where was the exit from the lake? Where would they enter the bike course? How would they return to transition? How would they start the half-marathon run? Most of the questions were not difficult, and it was my job to answer them, in the hope their race day would be less chaotic.

Two hours before transition was scheduled to close, the young lady showed up to check in her bicycle. Unfortunately, she forgot to place the number tag on the bike frame. "Sorry, we can't check in your bike," is the response she received from our crew.

Later in the weekend, as the sun encouraged a state of giddy delirium, the crew began to think unthinkable thoughts: What if a dishonest triathlete (A rhetorical question; I know of no dishonest triathletes...) were to peel the number off their less-expensive bike and place it on another, more-expensive bike? If volunteer workers weren't following instructions to the letter, or closely paying attention, there was the outside chance of a bike upgrade at the cost of a race entry. There was the method to our madness; we HAD to be certain the number on the athlete's wristband matched the number on the bike; no tag number on the bike meant we couldn't tell if the bike truly belonged in transition.

The crew asked her to see me.

She, an experienced triathlete, spent 20 dollars to bring her bike by taxi. Telling her "no" meant she had at least three 20-dollar cab rides on her evening agenda. (If I were a dishonest race volunteer, I would have asked for a kick-back from the cab company.) Was there any way possible for us to tag her bike frame and let her check the bike? She PROMISED she'd bring the tag in the morning.

Mind you, this was the tenth instance of "missing number" I encountered in six hours. If we had blank tags we might have been able to assist in this situation. But we didn't. I told her she had to go get her tag before I could check her bike.

The issue of pre-race preparation isn't strictly related to multisport athletes. Runners, too, can suffer the consequences of "transient brain flatus," "senior moments," or...more crudely put, "CRS." It's just that triathletes have so much more to "un-prepare" for than runners.

Or do they? Large road races like the Classic don't have expos ONLY because out-of-towners like my wife and I want to drink beer while picking up our race swag.

Race expos also exist because we leave our homes 15 minutes later than we originally planned, rushing to get to the race. We don't pack the night before. We don't use checklists. We don't prepare "the bag" with the extra socks, shorts, shirt, pins, number belt, hat, sunglasses, and so forth...much to our peril on race day. All I have to do is remember 2007's Classic, the wind and the cold in Tad Gormley Stadium, and the 20-dollar windbreaker...the picture becomes more clear.

Add to the sartorial preparation the physical, mental and emotional preparations (like previewing course maps, knowing terrain, training accordingly) which can mean the difference between success and failure, and Lord Baden-Powell's advice to the Boy Scouts rings more clearly. Be Prepared. Read the information on the race web site, the paperwork in the race packet, and the participant feedback from previous years, if it's available.

The individual racer can choose to slow down a little bit and prepare for race day (checklists, laying out items on the bed, dressing a stuffed animal, and so forth) so they don't have to pay a 300% "unprepared tax" and raise their blood pressure.

...So how does the story end?

Well, the young lady returned to transition with an hour to spare and her bike was checked in. She was in a much better mood, especially after I offered to give her a ride back to her hotel and we shared some of our "supplies" with her.

The next day, she ran through transition on her way onto the run course, yelling, smiling, and slapping me a high five.

What was that Tennessee Williams had Blanche Dubois say at the end of 'A Streetcar Named Desire?' "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers..."

Don't be forced to depend on the kindness. Be Prepared.

The Will To Prepare

Any major marathon, especially one like any of Competitor Group's Rock n' Roll series, has no lack of interesting stories and "did I just see?" moments. I'm lucky; as an average guy who has friends in high places, the perspective is a little different than the average race participant; I'm grateful to have friends who spread the tent wider when I'm in the mood to do a little bit of work. And when I'm injured, I'd rather be doing something constructive. Last time I got seriously "injured" was not long after I started doing triathlon, decided to tempt gravity one Sunday morning, and ended up writing blog posts like the one-armed bandit I envisioned myself to be for that six-week period of time.

An injured, rehabilitating runner often has two plans of action. The first and least effective plan is to go into isolation. It's less painful to avoid answering the "what happened?" and "how long will you be that way?" questions, but eventually we need to get out among those going "shanks' mare." I've said many times "running hurts; not running hurts more," it's easier to feel better while we are getting better by giving back to the community of which we are a part.

We were walking through the race expo at the New Orleans Convention Center to get my race staff credentials on Friday afternoon; I saw a slender gentleman with salt and pepper hair. I had one of those Darth Vader moments: 'a presence I haven't felt since...' Ah, but there are plenty of people in this life who look like someone else, so I shrugged it off. I almost said something to Suzanne, my wife; she probably would have told me to go catch him...trouble is he knows her better than he knows me. You see, Suzanne decided to have one last beer at the bar in the Hyatt in San Francisco after the RRCA convention two years ago. Frank Shorter was the banquet speaker that evening, and was holding court in the bar. He called out to Suzanne as she walked in, something along the lines of "where's your husband? Why didn't he come down?" Okay, I was tired of hanging out in my "misplaced college professor" attire.

Next morning, while walking into the staff hospitality area, I realize the gentleman I thought was Frank Shorter actually was. He was chatting with the elite and guest runners; he probably would have recognized my wife if she had been there. Again, like the last time I was close enough to say hello, I decided to not be a fawning fan. Many folks love to have those photo moments - I'm not one of them, for a couple of reasons. The first one is that it seems so contrived. I would much rather have sat with Shorter over a couple of beers and let him talk about Munich and "Pre" and how good we have it now in the highly-democratic era of participatory running, where all you have to do is have desire, the entry fee - and in some cases, a little luck - to get into most major races. The second one is I rarely prepare for the possibility. Travel light, travel fast; that's the code under which I live. Sea stories are more portable than scrimshaw.

Later on that afternoon, once the temperature had climbed from the mid-40s at 7 in the morning to somewhere closer to the mid-60s...and maybe a little higher, I marveled at the back-of-the-pack marathoners as they finished. All right, at least they made it to the starting line healthy and got to have their finish line moment underneath the oak trees in City Park. But I saw so many of them who looked like they prepared for a much colder day on the course. There were guys in sweats. There were guys in wind pants and warm-up pants. There were more ladies in CW-X tights than at which a person could shake a stick. And long-sleeved tops. And music headphones. At a Rock n' Roll series event. With bands at every mile...and impromptu entertainment added.

I talked with my wife and my athletes during the week before the race and recommended a few clothing items for race day. I even bought my wife a pair of arm-warmers at the expo, in the hope she would wear them instead of a long-sleeved top...which she did. She bought herself a pair of comfortable padded socks on the recommendation of her girlfriend, another one of my athletes, whose claim to fame is finishing the infamous 2007 Chicago Heat Wave, er, Marathon, before Carey Pinkowski finally shut the course down.

But, when I stood by and listened to some of the questions which were asked to the information desk volunteers at the expo, I couldn't help but wonder whether race participants are being spoon-fed and don't know how to prepare themselves for a race.

The Internet puts our location information out (on course) for our family to see where we are, not to mention weather forecasts for five or more days in advance, places where we can park without getting ticketed or towed, dates, times and locations for where we can pick up the information, which we also can download from parts of the same web page. We have mapping programs which provide elevation profiles we can download to our GPS units. And yet, we really prefer someone else to tell us exactly how to prepare and what to do.

Three-time Boston Marathon "bridesmaid" Juma Ikangaa said: "The will to win means nothing without the will to prepare." Maybe we don't want to find out how good we are? Is this so we can lay the responsibility for our shortcomings at someone else's feet? I'm not certain. Once again, as part of the democratic society we enjoy as runners, we are also saddled with the responsibility to use the freedom to run wisely. For me, running wisely is running prepared for the conditions, the natural and human terrain, and within our limitations.

After seeing many of those finishers, and hearing many of those questions, I cannot wait to get back into running again.

Wasting Our Time Running?

I have a coffee mug...well, actually my wife has a coffee mug she allows me to borrow...which has the face of a lady in her early-to-mid-thirties on it and the phrase: 'today was a complete waste of make-up.' I've taken it on many occasions to my work place, where the sentiment is all-too-notable. Never fails to draw a laugh, especially from my manly-men-slash-ultra-conservative co-workers...not certain yet whether the laugh is one of nervousness at me taking a good long hold of my feminine side or at me having the chutzpah to say right out loud what they are thinking.

But, heaven forbid that when we begin to look at our running we feel that at many times it's a waste. If we're doing the wrong type of training at the the wrong time of the training (or racing) year, however, this could be true. Today's Coach Pat McCrann installment, the second of thirty from his Marathon Nation site, talks about how we can more effectively spend the time we have available to run...doing something which will improve our running.
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Setting the tone for a great run starts well before you hit the pavement. A great run requires the alignment of many things, some of which are even out of our control. Here's what you can do to set the stage for a great run effort:
* Know Your Workout & Goals -- One of the biggest reasons why folks fall into a running rut is because they have no idea why they are running. Could be they have no plan; could be that their plan is poorly written. Regardless of the cause, this higher level understanding will enable you to place your workout - and your mind - into the proper context (hard intervals or endurance day, etc.).
* All Geared Up -- Have all of the proper gear laid out and ready to go well before you need to run. Nothing saps my energy like wasting 15" looking for a pair of running shorts...as that only means 15" less of running time.
(COACH MIKE'S COMMENT: I LIKE TO FOLLOW THE TRIATHLETE'S DICTUM; TRAVEL LIGHT, TRAVEL FAST. THE LESS GEAR, THE BETTER.)
* Know The Conditions & Terrain -- Simple enough, but many folks pay little to no attention to the weather forecast. In addition to the weather, the type of run I am planning helps to dictate where I want to run (the what first, then the where). Having a few options for each "type" of run can go a long way towards making running fun.

I start thinking about the average run workout about an hour before I am due to hit the start button on my Garmin. This is when I take the final steps to make sure my body will be ready to run the workout I have scheduled. From eating to stretching, here are my personal steps (in order of execution):
* Turn the Phone Off -- This is the only thing that has the true potential to end a run before it starts.
* Last Meal -- I spend most of my day grazing, which means I frequently make the wrong food choices before my runs (hummus anyone?). To help counteract this habit -- and to prepare my body for the demands of the workout, I make sure I have a solid meal/snack about 1 hour before the run. This is predominantly carbs with a little bit of protein for good measure.
* Water Replacement -- If you are even remotely like me, you drink too much coffee (or tea, or pop). That's not really going to make your run very enjoyable, so about 45 minutes out I make the switch to drinking water only as a means of Critical Task and/or Email Sweep -- With hydration taking place, I have a few minutes to check in on critical work areas to see if there's any big issues still pending. If so, filing that into my head on a long run really helps me review and analyze the issue. I typically return with some really good insights.
* Final Pit Stop -- Of course, we don't want to spend 50% of our run searching for a place to go to the bathroom...
(COACH MIKE'S COMMENT: SOMETIMES RECONAISSANCE ON THE WAY TO THE RUN COURSE START FOR PORTA-POTTIES ARE A HELP. EVEN BETTER ARE PARKS WITH ACTUAL TOILETS!)
* Light Stretching/Yoga -- I wouldn't call it stretching as much as I'd call it loosening up. Just a light routine that targets your hips, lower back, glutes, hamstrings, quads and calves will be great.

Proper running is an amazing thing to watch. Catching a glimpse of a great runner is much like watching poetry in motion. Regardless of their speed, a great runner seems to effortlessly glide across the landscape. Spend the last 15" before your run focused entirely on your run. If you have your gear ready and your schedule is clear, you can devote these last few minutes to getting your mind -- and body -- ready to run with greatness. Here are a few images I use to get ready:
* A Horse At Full Gallop -- It's no secret I am a bigger doode, and for some reason the image of a horse flying along at full speed strikes me as both powerful and smooth.
* A Waterbug Skipping Across A Pond -- Watching these little guys on the Nature Channel really stuck with me. Seeing how these creatures were made to skim (literally) across the surface of the water is just awesome. This image helps me remember to stay smooth and focused.
* A Stream Flowing Down A Mountain -- This really helps me when running trails or downhill sections. In particular, how smooth the water is despite the speed and any resistance. This image helps me avoid pounding my way to an uncomfortable workout.

What about you? What do you do in your last hour? What's your double top secret mental image? Let us know!

...Of Course, There Was A Line

Brief observations from yesterday's arrival & check-in:

1. Never, ever trust an elderly gentleman who says he's never been to a particular place in the world. Odds are very good he's pulling your leg. I had the supreme good fortune to have my check-in nerves soothed by a couple of Johns. Really, both of these gentlemen were named John. After signing my life away to WTC and promising I would never even think of the phrase lawsuit at the same time as I participate in IM FL, I sat down with these two gentlemen to receive my numbers, my chip, my cap and all the other good stuff. John asked where I was from, to which I replied: 'Pensacola, just up the way.'

"Never heard of it."

"You're kidding," I said. As I began to mention the relative distance from PCB, Destin, FWB & other locations on Planet Earth, I saw the slightest twinkle come to the eyes of both Johns. At that moment, I laughed and said, 'ah, so THAT'S why I feel that tugging sensation at my ankle...pull my leg, will ya?' We had a great conversation which lasted probably about ten minutes after that, got the necessary business completed, and went on my merry way.

2. Wal-Mart is the same no matter where you go, except for the layout. After a late luncheon at Pineapple Willy's we made the command decision to acquire some light snacks, social beverages and ibuprofen, and quickly. A four-buck Abita Amber will do that to you every time. Fortunately for us, there's a Wal-Mart approximately a stones' throw from the hotel.

Nothing changes from store location to store location. Trust me on this one. Go to the web site People of Wal-Mart.com and you'll understand what I mean. I swear I've seen each of those people in each location I've ever visited. Well, it was a little different for this trip, as you had pre-race triathletes going through the grocery and personal care sections, too.

The dichotomy was pretty funny. There was a lean, hawk-faced, serious-looking gentleman in front of Suzanne and me (was in the 10 items or less line) with six bottles of PowerAde, two packages of lettuce hearts, two packages of tomatoes, a package of frozen chicken filets, two sweet potatoes, and a few other salad makings here and there. There we were with a box of ibuprofen, a box of Clif Bars and a 12-pack of Corona. The Brasilians behind us, I think, were somewhere in between the two extremes, well, at least they were smiling. Suzanne asked if they were here for Ironman...of course, they spoke little English. I held up my wristband and smiled. They held up theirs. Suzanne wished them luck...which they didn't catch. I told them Bom Suerte, pidgin bastardized Spanish/Portuguese for good luck, to which they smiled.

"...every body every where smiles in the same language..." - Wooden Ships (Jefferson Airplane)

Living and Learning

"Let's call all the fun we've had living, living; Let's call all mistakes we've made learning, learning..." - "Living and Learning," Mel Tillis (1971)

(Note: Today's weblog title & the reference lyrics are in honor of my late grandfather, who used to sing & play little ditties like this one, so long ago.)In the business world, perhaps in the last decade...maybe a little longer back than that, there was a focus on transforming businesses into "learning organizations." Training & education managers, formerly the red-headed stepchild forced to share a bedroom with human resources, suddenly became a C-level (or sea level, if you wish to look at it that way, especially if you're at the water's edge...) entity all its own. It was one of the important disciplines in business, especially if you believed what you read in Peter Senge's The Fifth Discipline.

Ah, those were the good old days. Now, in the age of shrinking (shrunken?) budgets, training & education, as well as the CLO (Chief Learning Officer) have been forced to come back home & share the room with manpower & personnel...human resources. But, it doesn't make learning any less important a part of living. John Dewey once said: 'training is not preparation for life. Training is life...' or something to that extent (shame on me, an education guy, for not knowing the exact quote).

That's the most fun about coaching & training, I think. In order to be as efficient with my training as I possibly can...even more important as I become older & less efficient in recovering from races and workouts as I used to be...I have to read, research, re-read, & re-research what coaches, scientists, & even athletes have found to be the most effective means of training, fortifying, supplementing, recovering, & so on. I like it, it fits well with my personality. It provides me the opportunity to try something a little bit different, or adapt to what I'm already doing, before I try it on any of my athletes.

Doing this involves what I guess the Zen masters might call beginners' mind. You have to wipe out any preconception about a particular topic in order to listen clearly, lest your Charlie Brown filter be engaged. We all have that filter; the one that turns plain, simple language into waah, waah, waah-waah, waah...waah in less than 3.2 seconds, leaving us stupider than before. Turning on that filter not only makes you more stupid, but makes your life much less enriched.

I've kicked myself in the butt on many an occasion for not listening more closely to friends who read an article in Runners' World, Triathlete, Geezerjock, & wanted to share their insights with me. Usually that kick in the butt came after remembering, 'hey, didn't so-and-so tell you about a particular piece of equipment, or a particular exercise that would have kept you from crashing & burning in that event?' Then I have to go back, reclaim beginners' mind, & listen to what I should have listened to before. Well, C.S. Lewis once wrote, 'pain is the megaphone of God,' so maybe it was the Almighty's way of telling me...'(WHACK!) Stoopid...what were you thinking!? Wait, were you thinking!?'

So, there I was, standing in my local running emporium, sweating my behind off, listening to one of my advisors talk to a marathon training group about hydration & nutrition. Normally, I would have shrugged off the vast majority of the information; turned on the Charlie Brown filter. But this time, well, you can blame it on Nikki...she handed me an outline of the lecture. What else could I do but stand at the back of the store and listen in. 'Who knows, dude...' I said to myself, 'you might even learn something.'Since the marathon has been my weakest running event, & the one which will probably determine how well or poorly I do in November, I figured it couldn't hurt. No worse than doing the walk of shame for ten kilometers to keep from blowing up my achilles, which I did in 2007.

It was no surprise to hear the obvious: 'we are in two states...training & preparing for training.' But it never really clicked until then. I learned a good possible root cause for my weight plateau & a few other nutrition specifics. Gee. What a concept.

So, by allowing myself to go to beginners' mind I was able to learn a few things which could make the difference between a bad day & a good day, or a good day & a very good day...both now & in the near future.

"And we'll go on through life together living and learning..."

Things Which Make Insurers Go Hm...

Every once in a while you feel fortunate to be not in the position of an event director. While driving from Pensacola to Gulf Breeze after the aquathon portion of the Three-Mile Bridge Swim I had the pleasure (or misfortune) to be behind a pack of cyclists who were participating in a veteran's "freedom ride" from Pensacola to Pensacola Beach & back.

Riding 18-to-20 miles is not a difficult task if you're on a road racing or triathlon bike, wearing proper equipment & taking the necessary preparation. It's a tad more challenging on a mountain (fat-tire) bike because of the weight, increased tread contact patch, & stuff like that. Of course, clmbing isn't so bad because of the granny gear; that's the 19-to-25-tooth small, small ring on the front of the real serious mountain bikes which allow the rider to climb most any hill. BUT: If you are on a P.O.S. single-speed Wal-Mart special, without water bottles...riding in baggy cotton bermuda shorts, a t-shirt, & a baseball cap...two words come to mind: Long Day.
As an event director-guy, I nearly shrieked in horror at the sight of nearly a dozen riders in what the Italian cycling commentators would call the grupetto, and what the French would call the autobus...helmetless, plodding away at a cadence guaranteed to blow their knees off at the start of the Three-Mile Bridge's hump. One of the grupetto dismounted from the bike at the beginning of the hump in order to walk it to the top. 'What's that person going to do when they get to the Bob Sikes?'

Exactly the rationale for signing waivers.

I've always wondered why event waivers were not printed in clear, simple language. Why would an event director allow a person who obviously had not prepared for a 20-mile bike ride, much less a 10-miler, to participate in such an event? When does the event director take the participant aside & say, 'while I appreciate your service & I want you to participate & enjoy yourself, I don't believe you've prepared sufficiently for this?' Certainly, I know this was a military appreciation month, veteran-focused event, but you have to set a floor-level standard.

Of course, what would have been even more cool would have been to see the spandex-clad, hard-butt bike monsters at the front of the peloton, who were traveling at 15-20 miles per hour without any effort whatsoever, slow up and ride along with these poor souls. Perhaps teach them a little rudimentary bicycle operation (something my old boss would have called Gear Shifting For Bears of Little Brain); encourage them on the climbs which were soon to come. Perhaps, even, remember the realm from which they escaped.

I've read a few comments about the enmity between bikies and tri-geeks. Bikies think triathletes have no bike-handling skills, & tri-geeks think bikers are a bunch of elitist snobs who prefer to wheel-suck. I'm perhaps painting with too broad of a brush.

But way too often the people who have developed a certain degree of knowledge, skill & ability in their particular sport are less than willing to share what they know with the newcomer. Often the newbie looks at the proficient athlete & believes they are unwilling to share knowledge...perhaps there needs to be more rides like the one the other weekend to get the gung-ho bikers & the I'm only riding my bike to the grocery store bikers together. Hey, it's all the same type of equipment. Perhaps then the average automobile driver wouldn't consider every cyclist as a person who lost their license or can't afford to drive a car (in many cases the economic facts might be true but it's not completely across the board).

Post-Race Criticality and Holistic Dieting

I managed to get through one of my target (preparation, really) races with only a few minor aches, pains, & disappointments. The goal was (in reality) to finish in the top 500, which earns you a numbered lithograph poster. When there are 20,000 participants & 3,000 racers, finishing in the 200s isn't so bad. It's when you start getting critical & crunching the performance numbers things appear disappointing: Compared to last year I finished about 70 places farther back in the pack, & 90 seconds slower.

After a disappointing race you have two choices:

1. You can whine & complain about how you're out of shape, you suck bilge, & so on, or

2. You can look at the factors...

a. ...under your control which you could have changed,

b. ...out of your hands which you could not...

...and then go back out & train. I prefer to do the latter. Of course, you can always blame factors which had nothing to do with a bad day. Lots of folks do. But if you look realistically at the things which can be improved & do something about it, y'know...things might improve.

It's like, for example, someone who complains about their weight. My wife & I had a great chat about this during our Sunday morning stroll. She knows people who complain about the need to lose a few pounds. When she recommends they get out to walk or jog more often than twenty minutes a day, three times a week, most of them look at her as though she had an eggplant growing out of her head. Or, she'll receive what might be better known as the litany of obstacles. It's the 'I can't do that because...' song.

Hey, we all know the tune. We just need to stop singing it.

We had a perfectly decent fitness gym membership until a couple of months ago, but couldn't get our workouts to fit within their operating hours. My wife was visiting a tanning salon near our house which had a 24-hour gym facility; she said, 'I like the other gym, but it's too far from the house for me to go before or after work. If we transferred to this one I could walk or bike over during the work day, or the middle of the evening.'

Personally, I don't care how she gets her exercise; I know she's happier when she gets it. Well worth the extra dollars in my humble opinion. Bottom line: You will spend your time, money & energy on what takes your highest priority.

We also talked about diet. For me, it's an athlete's equation:

Calories Out - Calories In = Change In Weight.

However, I came to a revelation this weekend. Diet is a holistic thing. Dealing with what calories you take in is not the only part of the equation; you also have to look at the mental & spiritual "thing." If you are happy with your body habitus - if your doctor has not said you are at risk for all those things which can hurt you indirectly caused by having too much weight on your body - you don't have to be so anal about what you take into your body. Get out & do something active every day; don't eat to excess.

But, if you're not happy with the way you look, I suggest you take a closer look at the magazines you read, the people with whom you spend your time, the television programs you watch. I would make a wager the persons who are the least happy with their body are the ones who spend the most time/effort/income purchasing & reading tabloid magazines like People, Us, Vanity Fair, Cosmopolitan (okay, there are dude versions of those rags, too...), watching Lifetime, E!, & so on. The more time you spend pumping mental & emotional junk food into your brain & psyche, the more likely you are to compare yourself to the people who pay fitness trainers & coaches to help them stay in shape because they want to remain in their careers & make money. These are people who, if you spent enough time with them, you would find out are more screwed up than you could ever be on a bad day.

And if you don't believe me, I have one word for you: Brangelina.

Now, think about the amount of time you spend reading the mags & watching the programs. I bet if you took the time/money per week pushing that garbage into yourself you could get in one extra good workout or pay for that trainer/coach, who will give you the (gentle, but often necessary) kick in the butt your training regimen needs.

I remember reading an interview with Flea, the bassist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers some time back. He was talking about how he prepared to go into the studio & record, or write music (okay, you might not like their opus, but their cover of Stevie Wonder's Higher Ground is nearly as funky as the original), saying something to the extent of: '...if there are people out there who are going to wear down my spirit or cause me to be upset, I'll avoid them. I learned about it from Robert DeNiro, who did the same thing when he prepared for a movie role. So now, if I know there's a billboard ahead I don't want to see, I'll make certain to avoid it on the drive.' The very same thing is necessary in our own lives; negative people will cause you to look at yourself in light of your failures, your shortcomings, & what they see needs to be changed...which, in many cases, is perfectly fine, thankyouverymuch.

We are not only what we eat, but what we take in & who we let in.

Temperature Rising

I hold the faint, fleeting hope that winter has completed its onslaught here. All right, before those of you who live in more arctic climes laugh derisively at my wimpiness, I will honestly admit two things:
First - twenty-plus years of living in Florida has thinned my blood to the consistency of a Pat O'Brien's Hurricane.
Second - I've probably thrown out every piece of true winter-weight clothing suitable for wearing to work or running.

If I lived in Chicago, or worked at Great Lakes it would be necessary to have good stuff. Yes, that leather bomber jacket was barely functional without a sweater/vest underneath. Seriously microwaved cup of coffee makes a good handwarmer...for a time.

However, it's 60-something degrees this morning, and I hope it will stay like this for at least a few days. It makes everything a little more tolerable; the walk from the car to the pool at 5:30 for swim workouts, the walk from the car to the office for work, even the evening track workout. When the local university is on spring break like it was last week - okay, what school decides to place it's spring break period in the beginning of February? I digress again. Everything was shut down, minimally-lit & barren. Makes it difficult to keep motivated, & that doesn't include the issue of the bathrooms.

We were leaving our workout as a friend, an ex-university cross-country coach/national-class marathoner was coming in to get his workout. How shocking to hear he hadn't run more than a dozen miles a week since the beginning of the year, but his focus has been on academics. I bet his 12 quality miles were more effective than my 40-50 junk miles...junk being a relative term.

Don't know if he could run a marathon, or a half-marathon on 12 miles a week. I know I probably couldn't. Heck, I'd think twice about marathoning on 40-to-50 a week. Maybe I could do it, but it would probably be ugly like an ape.

It's not just a question of quantity, but also of quality, when you're talking about mileage. I'm a firm believer in cross-training to maintain aerobic fitness. It's not running, but you can get the heart rate up without taking the pounding the equivalent running miles would produce. I haven't figured out the proper blend of cross training-to-easy running-to-to hard running yet, but I'm working it. Probably, like most everything else in life, it varies from person to person.

What works for me doesn't always work for the athletes I coach. But it's usually a good range.

Mini-Taper and Some Cool Thoughts For Today

First of all, I am SO glad my wife is back from her two weeks on the road. While I am functional when she is out doing all the cool stuff her business demands of her in order to thrive, survive and all that, it's not all that fun. I'm good for a window of 12-to-36 hours, after that it's pretty bad. I felt, most of the time, like someone (or thing) had beaten the daylights out of me with a rubber stick (under-recovered), even with multivitamin supplementation and whatever extra rest (sleep) I could snatch. Even taking an easy week of training (which I schedule) at the end of the month didn't seem to do the trick.
However, I think I figured it out the other day, after Chinese food at lunch and salad with chicken and strawberry slices at dinner. Because I'm less likely to cook or eat good food while she was out, I wasn't getting either the right stuff or the right amount of stuff to refuel my body. Contrary to popular belief, the furnace may burn whatever you put in it, but it might not burn as well or as long.
So, this week is basically what I would call a "kinda-taper" to prepare for this weekend's triathlon. The goal is to relax and let the body store up energy, but not to get too lazy. Since I did a bike ride yesterday (nearly twice the distance I'll ride this weekend) at about 55 percent of my maximum effort I won't do much else outside of cleaning and tweaking the bike. I'll swim one morning workout and do one race-distance (~600 yards) time trial over the next couple of days; my running will consist of an easy-paced one-hour run tonight, and a four-mile run at high 6:00-to-low 7:00/mile pace - the tempo I'll probably run this weekend.

I haven't taken the time to look at the water temperature for the Gulf of Mexico this weekend, though. I suspect the water is going to be cool if not chilly. However, a ~600 yard swim is not going to merit using a wetsuit. I think if the distance was anything over 800 yards I would consider it.

My old friend Chuckie V wrote on his blog some really neat thoughts about training he picked up from three-time Ironman world champion Peter Reid, at their advanced camp. My take-away from Reid's teaching at Solvang are:
1. Don't mask your fatigue with drugs. Caffeine in particular...but this can also be other stuff (adult beverages, for example). I like coffee, particularly for it's warming effect first thing in the morning. But there have been occasions where I've had my cup and crawled back into bed for a little more sleep instead of trying to slog through my morning workout. Fatigue in one area leads to (over-)compensation in another, which leads to injury.
2. Efficiency outweighs raw speed. While a single 71-second 400 meters on the track is fairly sprightly, it's another thing all together to tie four together into a 4:50 mile...or 12 and a half of them into a 14:50 5K. There's speed in the short, short term and there's speed over distance, a function of efficient, comfortable running.
3. Long runs are underrated. Even short distance racing improves from aerobic fitness.
4. Race day starts long before the starting gun is fired. A single mis-step on eating, drinking, clothing items, the drive, the porta- and warm-up can mess up an entire day.

5. Patience. No race was ever won at the first 100 yards, but plenty of races have been lost there.