Put A Different RICE In Your "Diet"

"Achilles tendonitis..."

I turned in the direction of the voice.  Valentino, in a voice which seemed almost a laugh, said again, "Achilles tendonitis!" 

"You?"  I asked.

"Yeah, me.  I suspected that's what was wrong.  I could feel it when I got out of bed the past couple of mornings; all the popping noises and such."

"It's a sign we're getting old, man.  Our breakfast cereal is supposed to make noise, not our body," I replied. 

I'm not into schadenfreude, the concept of having joy at the misfortune of someone else, but it did seem a little bit ironic.  Val's also a running coach; he specializes in sprints at the high school and Junior Olympic level.  During my autumn of pain, he would shout angrily when I would limp into the office the day after my own track workouts -- workouts which had intensities or distances too much for my fifty-year-old (still-injured) tendons to endure.

So, Val has appointments with the base medical clinic, the physical therapist, base pharmacy and the like.  But he's going to keep running because he's stubborn...and he hates cross-training.

When runners think about injuries and their treatment, most of them have heard of the mnemonic RICE: Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation.  While this treatment method works well for the discomfort of soft tissue injuries, it's not a cure, and isn't as effective when we begin to talk about the more common overuse injuries from which runners suffer.

The same mnemonic, RICE, can be used to treat the cause of injuries like achilles tendinosis, plantar fasciitis, iliotibial band syndrome, patellar tendinosis, and the like.  Unlike the soft tissue RICE, this RICE stands for: Reflect, Identify, Correct, Evaluate.

Reflect - stop and think:  Has there been a sudden change in the run/workout routine?  Have I added distance, changed terrain, altered surface, or increased intensity?  When did I purchase this pair of running shoes?

Identify - what are the most-likely causes for the damage?  In the case of overuse injuries the culprit usually begins with "too:"  Too much speed work.  Too much added distance.  Too little recovery.  Too old shoes.  Too many hills.  Too many crowned or bad surfaces.

Also, take the time to identify what sort of exercise you can do to replace running for the next few weeks; you might lose some cardiovascular fitness during this period, but exercise which does not aggravate the present damage will allow blood to continue to flow to the injured area, continuing the healing process.  Anti-inflammatory drugs can be taken to ease swelling but shouldn't be taken to mask pain just so you can go out and run...remember the discomfort/pain is a message that something is injured and needs to heal.

Correct - what can you do to keep this injury from reoccurring?  A lot of overuse injuries are the result of a musculoskeletal imbalance or a muscular weakness, leading to compensation by a connecting part of the body which was unable to handle, or recover from, the increased strain.

Evaluate - is there really a need to train at the level which caused the injury in the first place?  If the root cause of the injury is strictly to do with poor equipment then I would recommend a gradual return to the training regimen where no pain existed.  If terrain, mileage, intensity or surface changes were the cause, then consider very conservative changes or increases, giving the body sufficient time to recover and adjust to the new stress.  If the cause is too little recovery, then you'll have to figure out a way to assist the recovery process either by taking a day off, engaging in "active rest," or implementing modalities like self-massage, massage therapy, compression garments, stretching and so on.

So, when it comes to injuries, you still need to remember the RICE mnemonic, but it's a completely different form of RICE.  Reflect.  Identify.  Correct.  Evaluate.

Don't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Good Trail, But Please, Not MY Blood...

Over the last year or two, I've become a fan of a semi-underground running activity. Some persons call it hare-and-hounds running; many call it hashing after the name of the international (semi-organized) running/social group, the Hash House Harriers (HHH or H3). It's drawn my interest for a number of reasons:

The (relatively) non-competitive nature of the activity - Walkers, joggers, and hard-core runners can all participate at the same time. Recognition (of a sort) only comes if you're the first male or female, the first walker, or the last person who finishes the trail. Besides, out on a back road or stretch of vacant lot or woods, cooperation is often necessary to keep from getting either hopelessly lost or worn out trying to find the true trail.

The (relatively) inexpensive cost - Why spend $50 per couple for a (perhaps accurate) 5K run with a cotton t-shirt, light beer and day-old bagels? My wife and I can spend $10-15 to run anywhere from three-to-five miles on terrain which may vary from paved bike trails to briar-choked woodlands (or worse!), stop for a cheap beer along the way, have a couple of brews and munchies at the end.

Terrain - The two kennels here are night-and-day when it comes to terrain choice for trails. One kennel focuses almost exclusively on paved roadways and sidewalks; hills and street crossings are probably the most hazardous natural features, as long as the hares - the person/s who set the trail for that particular run - don't get overambitious. We prepare to run with this kennel in pretty much the same manner as we prepare to run a 5K or 10K road race, or a training run.

When it comes to the other kennel, almost anything goes. I still have scars on my legs from my first (real) trail. My "hash name," which was given because of my typical response to whining athletes, also fit my typical response to this kennel's trails. After three trails I learned it's not a trail without either a water crossing or crashing through a thorn-laden wooded trail. I'm better now, in many ways. But the first five minutes or so are still entertaining.

I'm still learning what to wear, and what not to, on trail with this kennel. My friend Charley and I have talked at great lengths about the ideal and preferred gear for hard-core trail traipsing. Starting from the top and working downward:


Head, eyes, ears, nose and throat - After a couple of trails where I took shots to the forehead from thorny vines and low-hanging branches, I first considered cranial gear worn by aircraft carrier flight deck personnel. 'Overkill,' Charley said. 'A baseball or running cap with a stiff bill will keep the branches out of your eyes.' I mentioned the thorn branch which struck me directly in the dimple of my chin, to which he responded, 'A one-off situation.'

Depending on the time of the year, running or shooting glasses will aid in the visibility and keep the branch which the cap cannot stop out of the eye.

A bandana is optional, and cannot hurt to have if running in dusty, gritty or spider webby conditions...you don't always have the benefit of a taller runner to go in front of you, right?

Upper extremities - Charley's gone from the canvas gardening gloves to a pair of mechanic's work gloves, which are almost as thick and protect the fingers, palm and back of the hand almost as well. Sometimes it's better to move the branch out of the way with your hand than to try and duck around it.

Torso - Lightweight, layered clothing is a must except in the hottest summer conditions. The nylon ripstop military surplus camouflage shirts are good for carrying whistles (mandatory!), marking implements (semi-mandatory!), and (in case of very bad situations) identification. Fabric is a little tougher than skin where thorns are concerned.

Lower extremities - I've worn what is affectionately known as "shiggy socks" which cover everything from the kneecaps down since that first infamous trail. Compression socks (a little more expensive) or soccer socks (great color choices) are good if you don't want to order any from the H3-related on-line retailers. When it comes to the thighs/quads/hammies things get a little more challenging. There lies the challenge between balancing weight (especially when wet!) and protection from the sharper elements; do you choose nylon ripstop military surplus pants or something closer to a pair of jeans? My wife bought me a pair of tough but heavy camouflage-style cargo shorts which go down to just about my knees. Charley's got a pair which are filled with ripped knees, covered in mud and paint stains, and seem to serve him well.

Feet - Some hashers wear the same shoes for years. Running guys like me cry in horror at the thought of running in old shoes, but I've relegated shoes with more than 400 miles to trail hashing; road hashes merit a pair of training shoes, however. I made the supreme mistake of wearing a minimalist triathlon shoe with drainage holes once. Until a large stick punched through a drainage hole on trail I thought it wasn't a bad idea. And the folks who like the Vibram "toe" shoes or the barefoot running thing often have to keep their eyes open for the many hazards which lay often unseen on the trail. So do you go for foot and ankle protection or for drainage? We considered the merits of a trail-running shoe versus a canvas jungle-styled boot. Horses for courses; we have to be prepared to swim at a moment's notice.

Accessories - with the trail-focused hash it's a great idea to carry whatever you want to take with you but don't want trashed in a waterproof container. I have a DryCase for electronics but haven't used too many electronics on trail. Flashlights and whistles aren't just a good idea, they're a great idea.


And what about cutting devices to deal with otherwise recalcitrant plant matter on trail? Charley's got a machete, what about something a little smaller, like a pair of pruning shears? I'm not in favor of carrying anything on trail which can eventually punch a hole in someone else's body (bad juju) or my own (very bad juju) in the event gravity decides to exert itself. I wonder if something like a Leatherman tool would be better?

So maybe the protective gear is where the cost-effectiveness of hashing goes by the wayside. Not having all of the stuff doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself while running a trail, but you might lose just a little blood out there. And it isn't a good trail unless a little blood is shed.

Pre-Race Paranoia, Or The Half-Shell

Over a year ago I wrote a two-post diatribe about the trend toward minimalist shoes and barefoot running. Seeing one of my former athletes wearing a pair of Vibram Five Fingers at the mid-week beach run got me once again to thinking. I didn't want to sit and read through a bunch of news articles...again...on the topic, so I did a little iTunes Store search. By my good fortune there was a humanist podcast on the minimalist shoe and barefoot running trend, featuring Harvard University evolutionary biologist Daniel Lieberman, Liberty University professor (and author) Daniel Howell, and author Christopher McDougall spoke on the benefits of going barefoot.

Why would humanists would take an interest in something which seems more in the realm of biomechanics and sport? Humanists (at least the secular humanists) believe that reason, ethics and justice, rather than the supernatural, dogma or religious belief, are the underpinnings of morality and decision-making. And some of these humanists like the idea of getting in contact with the earth around them; I'm not certain whether they would be called "tree-huggers"in the perjorative sense...the humanists who have taken to move back to their earlier and "more natural" state, one before the advent of constrictive and (according to Howell) biomechanically harmful shoes.

(I'm only a curious running coach. I come neither to laud nor condemn, but to try, to the best of my ability, to give a balanced point...and my recommendation/s. I ran college cross country in Nike cross country flats and raced 5K and 10K races in a pair of lightweight Brooks or New Balance road racing flats. When I'm healthy and running well I enjoy racing short distance races in light shoes. I do track workouts in light-to-medium-weight trainers, and road runs in a cushioned shoe for neutral runners.)

Lieberman compared the foot strike patterns of shod and barefoot runners. He did not take a shod runner and put them into a minimalist shoe or compel them to run barefoot for research purposes. So, right off the bat we have to compare apples and oranges. Or do we?

He repeated, almost verbatim, the "Nature" abstract: Habitually barefoot endurance runners often land on the forefoot before bringing down the heel; they sometimes land flat footed or, less often, on the heel. In contrast, habitually shod runners mostly rear-foot strike, facilitated by the elevated and cushioned heel of the modern running shoe. Even on hard surfaces, barefoot runners who forefoot strike generate smaller collision forces than shod rearfoot strikers. This difference results primarily from a more plantar-flexed foot at landing & more ankle compliance during impact, decreasing the effective mass of the body that collides with the ground. Forefoot & midfoot strike gaits were probably more common when humans ran barefoot or in minimal shoes, & may protect the feet & lower limbs from some of the impact-related injuries now experienced by a high percentage of runners.

I still think it's safe to assume there are more "slow" than "fast" runners (pardon the pun) hitting the roads. Slower runners have a different running gait. They tend to overstride; their feet stay on the running surface for a longer period of time and they use more of the large leg muscles. As the speed of the run increases, the runner either pounds the heels into the ground because they're overstriding (the result of anaerobic, sprint-focused sports), which causes shock-related stress and the injuries which result, or they adapt; shortening the stride and strike closer to midfoot or forefoot.

Another portion of the podcast had the interviewer learning how to run barefoot from Christopher McDougall, author of "Born To Run." One of the questions from the interviewer, while he and McDougall were trotting down a path (Central Park, I believe) was: "So, what happens when there are rocks on the pathway?" To which McDougall replied, "I have a little bit of technology I use then...it's called vision."

I can't help but agree that barefoot running might work for many people, especially if the terrain is amenable to wearing no shoes or Vibrams, or minimalist shoes. But the trouble comes when you can't see what's going on below you.

This past weekend is a perfect example: My friend Jon began running in Vibram Five Fingers at about the same time I first wrote about barefoot running. Jon's one of those guys who doesn't believe in slow, gradual transitions into anything. Right away, he took the Vibrams out for a 5K run...and paid the price in sore tendons. However, over the course of time he's increased the duration and distance at which he can run in them; he's now up to 15 kilometers, having raced the Pensacola Double Bridge Run in them.

We were out the other day at a local Hash House Harriers event. After the first mile, which was on grass and pavement, the trail turned into the shallows of Pensacola Bay. Yes, I said "into" the bay; one water crossing per trail seems to be par for the course for this kennel. Fortunately for us the conditions were warm and the water, while cool, was not a hindrance.

Jon, wearing his Vibrams on trail, decided to take them off. He decided to take the risk of going barefoot through the shallows rather than soak his shoes the day before he planned to use them in a half-marathon on the beach. His first step into the water was his undoing. I heard those fateful words which you never want to hear: "that's not good."

Looking back, Jon raised his foot up out of the water. The ball of his foot, around the big toe, appeared more as a flap of skin. Step number one into the shallow water was directly onto an oyster shell, which apparently slashed his foot nearly to the bone. One of the tail-end runners on the trail quickly went back for Jon's jeep and took him to the hospital. Naturally it was safe to say he could kiss his planned half-marathon for the next day good-bye.

Perhaps a couple lessons can be learned from Jon's mishap:

One, there's a reverse correlation between the equipment a runner uses and the degree of situational awareness which is necessary. If you can't see what you're stepping on, it's probably a good idea to put something between your tender flesh and the many potential things which are more resilient than, and can do serious harm, to your tender flesh.

Two, the day immediately before a big race is probably the most dangerous. The best advice for individual runners is to think about the constellation of things which can possibly go wrong, and try to avoid them as much as possible. Just because you have pre-race paranoia doesn't mean everything isn't out to get you.

Sometimes You Just Have To Say...

...the statement I was going to use (borrowed from an old friend, Christian Beine) can have positive & negative connotations. This weekend, it's a little bit of both.

It is not often I go to New Orleans in a month which is not spelled with an "R" somewhere within or at the end. Sure, there's the August trip to do the NOH3 Red Dress thing...that's a situation where I kick myself while pulling funky, nasty sweaty red dresses out of the back of my car, asking the un-askable question: 'What in the world was I thinking when I registered for this?' Then I realize I added a few too many words to the front end of the sentence & should have started the question with: 'Was I thinking...?' Naturally, my wife reminds me it is all in good fun.

This time we went, not to commemorate a hasher hook-up (I never knew that was the story behind the RDR!) but to take part in a variation of a ritual steeped in lore & tradition, immortalized by Papa Ernest Hemingway in the last three chapters of his novel, The Sun Also Rises. Seems someone felt like there was a need for another reason to party in New Orleans & the Fiesta de San Fermin seemed like as good a reason as any. I never knew the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona was part of a religious festival, but I guess when you're in a nation as Catholic (with a capital "C") as Spain, nearly everything has religious undertones.

And when you have the amount of spare time to research stuff I do...in between doing real work...you do have the opportunity to learn the history & significance of things. I think it makes the experience that much more meaningful, personally. The San Fermin web site, http://www.sanfermin.com/, not only had photos & commentary about the history, but even a little bit about Hemingway's visits there through his middle age. Even better, the site was set up in Spanish, Basque & English...with links to an on-line store for shirts & stuff. Hey, even the Euros feel the need to be capitalistic. Every so often.

But I digress.

Bulls are deeply tied into Spanish culture, long before even the Umayyad (sic?) Caliphate took over the Iberian peninsula. That much I recall from some multimedia thing I watched while I was studying Spanish in college. Somehow, I guess there was some machismo thing going on in the ability to avoid getting stomped or gored by some bull being taken down the main drag to it's eventual death in the bull ring. Not quite certain where San Fermin falls in there, save for the fact he's the patron saint of Pamplona, in the province of Navarre.

I guess during the seven or eight days of the festival these bull breeders in the region send eight of their fighting bulls to die for the pleasure of Spanish aficionados. And the last 800 meters or so of the trip is through the center of town to the bull ring. Barricades abound. Oh, & did I mention the very slippery cobblestone surface & the hard ninety-degree turn near the end? First time I had the chance to see this was not long after I first moved to Pensacola; Outdoor Life Network (now called Versus) would show it in the afternoons...guess Craig Hummer & Al Trautwig needed something stranger than cycle racing to commentate upon, huh? Bizarre thing to watch a ton of angry hamburger try to take a hard right on cobblestones...slide like he's on ice, & BANG! Into the barrera.

All right, so New Orleans' San Fermin is a little more kind & genteel. At least for New Orleans. First year's encierro had a few hundred participants & maybe a dozen "bulls," well, roller derby chicks with horned helmets & whiffle ball bats. This year, the third, had around five thousand participants & probably a hundred "bulls" from all over the southeastern U.S. And the blend of tradition & whimsy is perfect.

The start of the encierro is at the northern end of the Vieux Carre', winds through the Quarter, and finishes in the Warehouse District. The event started officially at eight o'clock, but if you weren't at the corner near the balcony at 7:05 the odds were good you were not going to have a good spot for the beginning of the festivities.

At (probably...I haven't worn a watch in six months, so time is relative!) 7:55, the caretakers of San Fermin's statue marched up Rue Conti, led by a squad of drummers. San Fermin was then followed by a flight of rolling Elvi on mini-motorized scooters. Once San Fermin was installed in his proper place, the Padron stepped out onto the balcony of the Three-Legged Dog & gave his welcoming speech. This was immediately followed by the kneeling & invocation of the participants to (who else?) San Fermin, asking him to guide them safely ahead of the bulls. Immediately afterward, unlike the real encierro where a rocket is launched to send off the runners, we were sent down the course.

The pace for the run was closer to a dawdle. Enough for us to think, 'heck, no worries...this is going to be an easy little Saturday morning jog in the FQ.' No sooner did that thought cross my mind than we made a left-hand turn through what appeared to be a barrier of spectators standing in the middle of the street. At that point I looked to the right.

Ever watch those old movies where Godzilla, or some fifty-foot tall, radioactivity-enhanced thing rises out of a body of water and begins to stomp its way into a major metropolitan area? Think about the people (who have screams of terror dubbed in) as they look back at the creature about ready to turn them into a grease spot on the sidewalk. That's the look we all had. Why? We just turned onto the point of the course where the "bulls" were waiting to be released. Screaming? Absolutely. Like a seven-year-old girl, I was.

We began to run like Kenyans at the Classic. And behind us we could hear the plastic 'whonk' sound of whiffle ball bat meeting body part, which only made us more panicky. My wife took the smarter plan of action, and stepped off the course onto the sidewalk. She told me while she thought this was all in good fun she was not in the mood to be whacked in the fanny with a plastic bat. So, she managed to come through the day un-bruised.

On the other hand, I received the beating of a lifetime, the sort I hadn't received since nearly failing middle school English grammar so long ago. It could have been a grounding, but noooo... These hits weren't just gentle 'whacks.' Some of these girls were out to make up for ex-boyfriends or something...one of them had a forehand which would make Serena Williams proud. I still have the mark.

Of course, with all that humidity & sweat flying around someone's going to lose a bat, & someone's going to lose control. One bull & I ended up in the San Fermin in Nueva Orleans version of a Mexican Standoff; she lost grip of her bat, which fell to the ground at my feet. I picked it up: Any other situation would call for payback. However, the second rule of the run, 'Do Not Touch The Bulls,' applied. So, I shook the bat at her with a small amount of menace, then smiled and handed it back to her. No good deed goes unpunished; she responded with a swat in the keister & a blown kiss for my reward.

While some of the NOLA roller girls were probably familiar with the terrain, it's hard to say whether the imported "bulls" were as well-prepared. The pavement can be rather unforgiving if you don't keep your wits about you...while the cobblestoned last two blocks of the encierro provided payback to the "bulls," there were a few places on the course where I watched "bulls" succumb to the laws of physics or crash into "innocent bystanders." If you're standing on the side of the road for the express purpose of watching this particular spectacle, the term "innocent" does not apply, in my humble opinion. Some guy complained about a bull causing him to spill his drink all over his shirt. Neither bull, nor runner, nor fellow spectator felt the least sympathetic.

The bulls quickly realized trying to roll over cobblestones would lead to accidents which could put this years' Tour de France to shame, so they lined up in a gauntlet formation & proceeded to beat upon the runners who had the temerity to run behind them on the course. The sound of whiffle ball bats could on that block from Tchopitoulas to Julia leading to Ernst Cafe' for blocks around. I rejoined my wife, who was standing at the entrance of Ernst Cafe cooling off. We watched for a few minutes the spectacle of runners staging photographed whacks with imported & domestic bulls, then retired, like Hemingway & his companions once did, to our hotel room to prepare for the next stage of our Fiesta experience.

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!