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.

15 Miles-a-Week To 26.2 In A Day: Got A Plan?

A reader of the blog post about "smart" mileage increases over time ("Your Ego Is Not Your Amigo"), was kind enough to send me a question last week:

"I have a question regarding your 10-percent increase every three weeks. How would this work if I were training for a marathon? Would I have to do a 20-mile run five times a week? I'm sure that can't be good for your legs. Do you have another training schedule that you recommend for marathons? Like your friend in the article I have also had IT band problems, which I believe was due to increasing my mileage too fast when training for my second marathon. Thanks for any help you can offer."

Most well-laid-out marathon training plans have the longest (easy pace) run of the schedule in the 16-to-20 mile range, or no more than two and-a-half hours in duration. Naturally, runners will go longer than that on race day, but those longer runs occur two or three times during the latter weeks of the training schedule.

I've shamelessly borrowed from a couple of good marathon training plans over the past five or six years:

The first one/s I've recommended were developed by Keith and Kevin Hanson, who coach the Brooks-Hanson's Distance Project. Their beginner and advanced marathon plans are not a far cry from the ones they used to train (2008 Olympian) marathoners Brian Sell and (2011 Boston Marathon womens' runner-up) Desiree Davila. The Hanson's focus is on "something of substance" training; there is no focus on one single day's workout over another during the training week. Keith Hanson has explained the (relatively) low-mileage long run feels longer because of accumulated fatigue during the rest of the training week.

Links to the beginners' and advanced marathon plans can be found at the Hanson's Running web site (http://www.hansons-running.com).

Not everyone who participates in a marathon has a particular finishing time goal...but the majority of runners who do train for a marathon have an idea how they'd like to finish. Most of them, at least the ones willing to admit, would love to run well enough to qualify for Boston. The biggest problem comes when we talk about pace discipline: One of my marathoners wanted to run a 4:00 to qualify for Boston, and probably is strong enough to run a 3:40. In her first attempt at the marathon this last November, she passed me at mile 12 (I was running the half) and went through the half-marathon mark in 1:35-1:40. I didn't want to believe she'd have a bad day, but (being the pessimist I am) I knew it was coming. After finishing my half, I went to the half-mile to go point on the course. My watch ticked off 3:55...no Deena. 3:57...no Deena. 4:00...no Deena.

Finally, she rolled by, cramping legs and all, at 4:03. She finished her first marathon in 4:07, having fought leg cramps from mile 16 onward. I told her, after congratulating her on her age-group win, that we would focus on pacing strategy for Rock n' Roll/Mardi Gras, her next marathon.

The Marathon Nation (http://www.marathonnation.us) training plans, developed by coach Pat McCrann, are based off Jack Daniels' VDOT tables. Plans are boiled down to the essentials; there's no fluff in a MN plan, which is great for time-stressed runners.

Most importantly, McCrann has a very effective approach to race day pacing. He breaks the half or full marathon into approximately 25-percent chunks; the first 25 percent of the race is run about five seconds per mile slower than goal pace. The middle fifty percent increases in pace to a point where the runner averages about five seconds per mile ahead of goal pace, and the last 25 percent is where the runner makes the tactical decision of whether to maintain (should they feel all right, or not so good) or increase the pace (should they feel very good).

I used a blend of my own speedwork, the MN speedwork and the Hanson's distance focus when training Deena. When it came to race day, I sat down with her and broke down the pace she needed to run; a particular time at 10K, a particular time for the half-marathon, another goal split for 30K...after that it was up to her whether she wanted to push the pace or hang on. She ended up hitting the splits almost exactly as I asked, ran a 25-minute personal best and qualified for Boston.

I asked her how she felt on the first 10K, to which she said, "all these people were blowing by me like I was standing still." And the last 10K? "Gosh, Coach, I was passing people left and right."

The right training plan for a distance event will get you to the starting line healthy and ready to run. The right pacing plan for that distance will get you to the finish line...ideally healthy and ready for your next run.

Grab Some (Yur)Buds?

Rare is the moment I laud the use of headphones while running. They might be great for staving off boredom during treadmill workouts at the gym, but I do not like them - not one bit - on the ears of the athletes I train. Call me a kill-joy. Call me old-school. But I'm the coach; it's my prerogative to say what I do and do not like.

I don't like my athletes wearing headphones on the track because they cannot hear what I need to tell them about the specifics of their workout, their form or their effort. The last time I recall that particular form of feedback was called "coaching." I don't like my athletes wearing headphones during races because they cannot react to anything around them. Headphone-wearing runners turn into to the pace blaring into their ears rather than to the pace of the pack of runners beside (or in front of them). The last time I recall that was called "racing."

Working with the Road Runners Club of America for a little over five years, I learned the litany of safety reasons which clubs were told about the potential dangers of headphone use. Add to the "tune in, turn on, and lock in the pace" mentality of most headphone wearers at races the sometimes benign, sometimes life-threating approach of racing wheelchairs and strollers, faster runners, and intruding bicycles or other motor vehicles. You can end up with something as inconvenient as a trip-and-fall or as permanent as death.

And really, it's not the headphones which are evil. It's the way we tend to use them.

Several years ago I was at a small neighborhood 5K race; while standing on the corner cheering for my wife and several of my friends I saw a runner turn the corner and approach the third mile. She was running on the right-hand side of the road (not following the tangent, but that's another story altogether); I was standing on the sidewalk on the left. I could clearly hear the blaring from her MP3 player earbuds, at a distance of approximately 10 meters away. That meant she had to have the volume up at eardrum-bleeding, "Spinal Tap"-like volume.

Last year, I saw a product at the Rock n' Roll/Mardi Gras Marathon expo which drew my attention, especially in light of the RRCA work. At the time I was trying to write a white paper on headphone use, so the idea of a company like Competitor Group putting on an event with bands at every mile, yet selling headphones at the expo, seemed a little incongruous. I told the expo booth rep for Yurbuds who I represented and expressed my gentle skepticism about the product. He kindly provided me some print information and the website address so I could draw my own conclusions. However, I didn't want to try the product.

When I planned my visit this year I told my wife I would look closer at the Yurbuds product, especially after they developed an Ironman-branded version of the headphone adapter. If you have a product which gets to be Ironman-branded, you've pretty much made the big time...well, the chance of your product getting more exposure is very good.

The rep fitted me for a pair of the Ironman-branded Yurbuds, which are designed both to funnel the output of your music player, or computer, or whatever device has a 1/4-inch headphone jack into your ears...and allow ambient noise from your immediate surroundings to be heard. He then told me to let him know when I could hear the music and the ambient room noise. He showed me where the volume was set on his iPod; I could hear AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" comfortably at a volume level somewhere around the mid-point. I could also have a normal-volumed conversation with the rep. While sold on the Yurbuds, I did worry if I had a placebo effect; what would happen back home in my neighborhood?

I put the Yurbuds to the test last Saturday while my wife and I were at the gym. Rather than watch Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations" I decided to talk to her in the middle of my 60-minute elliptical trainer workout. I asked, 'is there something which sounds different about this conversation to you?' She then realized she was not shouting, nor was I. Even this morning, during the walk from the gym back home, I could hear the singing of the neighborhood's mockingbirds, as well as John Mayer. You might not particularly care for my taste in music, but I think you get the picture.

It doesn't mean everyone should pay 20-to-50 dollars for a set of headphone adapters - they're comfortable, they keep the phones stable in the ear during strenuous activity - but if it helps folks turn their volume down on their MP3 player at races, without killing the user's listening experience, then I'm all for it...as long as they're not dawdling in front of my training group, in lane one on the track, or directly in front of me on race day.

Back In The Fight

Three weeks. That's an important period of time.

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago why 21 days can be crucial for women starting a training program - even if it doesn't have anything to do with running. That's how long it takes for the first positive physical changes to show. A person who has done only one workout without changing the duration or intensity for that period of time will no longer gain any benefit from it. Of course, I don't know anyone who would do that. Or do I?

I actually have a friend who does the same 5,000-meter course, day in and day out. He came to me once and asked why he couldn't improve his race performances. I took a deep breath, then recommended he consider doing a long, easy run once or twice a week. At first, you would have thought I demanded he sell his mother to the gypsies. He thought about it, told me he'd give it some thought, then continued eating his lunch.

But, getting back to 21 days...after the disastrous training run I had three weeks ago I decided to do a complete reset on my training. That meant I had to discard the idea of the Rock n' Roll - Mardi Gras Marathon; even the half-marathon was out of the question. No racing in the immediate near-term, either. The choice was either to rest or risk a debilitating injury to my achilles tendon. Three weeks of rest or minimal-impact training seemed like a reasonable alternative to surgery, physical therapy and the slight possibility of never being able to run again.

So, I planned my first runs to be little more than easy 20-minute jaunts with a focus on the time rather than the distance. Silly me, I then remembered I was going to lead a hare-and-hounds (hash) run this weekend. I could have driven the course earlier in the day and marked everywhere the "hounds" needed to run. But that would have been cheating.

In light of the injury I don't think anyone would have disagreed with that tactic. But I promised myself and the friends who drew me into hashing I would do things the right way. That meant being an honest "hare" and not pre-laying any of the trail. So, twenty minutes of easy running ended up twice as long. While the average pace (according to my data) was fairly slow it felt like a nearly all-out effort. Must have been the stops I made every 80-to-160 yards to leave a trail marking of some sort. My job was to provide some confusion for the "hounds," but I was suffering from my own form of confusion, that of the cardiorespiratory kind:

Run! Stop! Run! Stop! Turn? Not Yet! Turn here! Mark! Run! Holy cats - who is that guy and how hard did he have to run to catch up with me!? At that point, it was more like Monty Python's knights meeting up with the Killer Rabbit: 'run away, run awayyyy...'

Three weeks of nothing more than elliptical trainer will slow the decline in cardiopulmonary fitness, but that much time off will drop run performance by anywhere between five and seven percent, according to Dr. Jack Daniels, author of "Jack Daniels' Running Formula," which is one of my three most-referred to run training texts. Add to that the sudden change from no impact to impact, and it felt like running the first time all over again.

If you have to take time off from running, the best thing I can remind you is that running is a sport of patience. It takes lots of patience to become a habitual runner; one who runs because they want to, not because someone says they must.

It's so good to be back in the fight, even if it's only twenty minutes at a time, a couple times a week.

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.

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.

Three "Really Ought To Have" Gadgets

This morning, my wife is going to see her dentist, Dr. Roberto Maal. Until about a month ago she had little need to visit him, or any other dentist, for that matter. Suzanne is as mindful of her home care routine as I am when it comes to my training routine. It makes dental hygienists jealous.

However, she was assaulted while walking to her car on a Saturday evening in our downtown. Disoriented & confused, with a scraped-up knee & damaged incisor teeth, she walked nearly three miles (past the police station) to a friend's house. She tried calling my cell phone (which just happened to be sitting in my car) to have me come get her, & ended up spending a very chilly night on her friend's front porch.

I woke up early the next morning to no spouse. Panic immediately followed, especially after hearing the messages which provided no information other than "come get me." I drove into downtown looking for her car, then called her friends in the hope she was with them. One friend, awakened from a sound sleep at six a.m., suddenly realized Suzanne was out on the porch & had been knocking on the window the entire night, trying to get her attention.

Fortunately for us, & thanks to Dr. Maal, the story has an economic & emotional "happy ending." But all too often I read news articles of "horror stories," where solitary (female) joggers or walkers have been mugged, robbed, sexually assaulted, or killed because they were in the wrong place at a bad time.

I've always been a true believer of the running credo "travel light, travel fast." Go into a local running emporium (when I go to the one in my town, I feel this way...) & no doubt you'll see the latest & greatest accessories coming down the pike targeting the entry-level runner. Some are "nice-to-haves." Others are a complete waste of money.

Three items, in my humble opinion, should be in the equipment bag of every runner - and carried along for every run - regardless of ability level. A caveat: If I mention a particular brand it's because I've had experience with their product, not because I receive any compensation.

Identification. There are a number of portable identification & information-sharing devices on the market, ranging from the simple dog-tag or wrist tag to the complex USB-capable data wristband. I haven't tried the newer USB drives, though. I've worn three RoadID devices in the past ten years & prefer their simplicity. The latest models from RoadID provide a web address or toll-free number for emergency personnel to access pertinent user data; even the simple RoadID models are easy to read & can make the difference between a running partner or passer-by knowing who to call in an emergency & a news story about another John Doe hit-and-run.

Carry Pouch. Apparel makers, like RaceReady, have made their mark in the running community by developing clothes for (longer) distance runners who need to carry important "stuff" like gels or electrolytes with them. I have shorts, & even a few running tops, from some of the major athletic wear/shoe companies like Brooks & Mizuno, which have pouches & pockets built in. But an item I first saw a couple of years ago at the Crescent City Classic expo really stands out:

Spibelt, based out of Texas, makes several small personal item carriers. My wife & I purchased one at the last Rock n' Roll event, with the addition of a toggle to secure our race number to the belt. Spibelt is small enough to be hardly noticed in public (much like a traveler's money belt); the pouch - from personal experience - comfortably holds an iPod Touch & a smart phone, plus driver's license, credit card, folding money, & won't flap on the run like a fanny pack. If you can fit it comfortably into a single jeans pocket, you can probably carry it in a Spibelt.

If you want to keep your phone separate from your credit card, there is a two-pouch Spibelt. Both single & two-pouch Spibelts come in a variety of colors (basic black for me, pink camouflage for Suzanne) & have an adjustable elastic belt with a strong Fastex buckle clasp...so it won't come off until you're ready for it to come off.

Cell Phone. In the past I recommended to RRCA clubs to have at least one person on a group run carry a photo-enabled cell phone. The smart phone's gadgetry is almost a "must-have" now; you can download applications which will help you find who has the GPS function turned on, search for information on the nearest public safety provider, & even request turn-by-turn directions in the event of disorientation. The things these phones can do now goes far beyond & thankfully can dovetail into what we could do in the past by just calling the local 911 service.

Even these & other good gadgets are no substitute for the common-sense practices of running with one or more other persons when possible, maintaining situational awareness at all times, & staying out in the great wide open (public) as often as possible. My wife & I learned a painful, mildly expensive lesson, but (fortunately!) we live to run another day.