Pie? Why Yes, Thank You

When it comes to danger, the 16 weeks of the calendar year which contain the (autumn and) winter holidays from Hallowe'en to St. Valentine's Day can be much like treading through the swamp.  Especially if you like sweets and pastries.

Early on, it's candy corn and bite-sized chocolates.  We still have enough daylight to add on an extra mile or two to make up for the itty-bitty indiscretions.  And then we turn the clocks back for daylight saving time, just in time to be surrounded by darkness. 

So now we're hip deep -- and getting deeper -- into it.  Thanksgiving, St. Nicholas, Chanukah, Christmas, New Year's; the deepest point of the muck and mire.  Pumpkin pie...latkes...fruitcake...the extra beer...the champagne toast at midnight...it's all there in your face, even at the workplace (save for the booze!).  Each holiday has it's share of temptations social and gastronomic.  While one misstep isn't going to slide you down a bacon grease-covered pole to a pudgy purgatory, a series of poorly-thought-out decisions can destroy months of hard-earned fitness and disciplined weight control.

I have varied my approach to the holidays from year to year:

Training continues without change - every social function, dinner party and snack item takes a back seat to the daily or twice-daily workout.  This is often the least desirable option in the mind of our spouses or family members, especially the ones who did not understand our running and fitness passion in the first place.  Some cities are more holiday event-focused than others.  I regularly receive e-mails from runners taking time to visit family members.  They usually asked if they could join in a group workout, or if there was a race during a particular weekend.

Short, easy workouts - many have heard the adage, especially when talking about the budget: 'a million dollars here, a million dollars there, next thing you know you are talking about real money.'  Same thing goes for workout duration.  A holiday social function after work hours can really place a damper on that 60-minute run you originally had on the training plan.  And, worst of all, you know there's going to be all that fantastic finger food you never get during the rest of the year.  There's no law (at least in most work places) that says you can't take your walking shoes into work and exchange your midday bologna-and-cheese sandwich and chips at the desk for an energy bar and a 30-minute stroll outdoors.

Rest - some coaches have their athletes on planned periods of rest or decreased intensity; one day a week, one week a month, and some to the point of even one month a year.  I have my doubts the top athletes allow themselves to go completely couch potato for an entire month.  But the down month can be a good time to engage in less-intense, non-sport-specific activity.  I remember hearing multiple Ironman World Champion Peter Reid talk about spending his down time "like a normal human being" cross-country skiing and watching television with close friends.

A 30-day period of complete rest, especially during the holiday month, seems a supreme test of willpower to me.  When given the choice between no pumpkin pie and no workout, and pie and the (seemingly irrational) desire to get off the couch for 60-to-90 minutes...

I like pie.  I'll fit my workout in some time during the day.

The Three-Percent Solution

Boy, was THAT painful.  Probably the second-worst race I've ever run in my entire life.  The only one worse was a four-miler I tried to run while suffering from an upper respiratory infection/chest cold/creeping crud...at the same time of the year.

I definitely cannot lay the blame for a lousy race performance at the feet of November.  I've had great races in autumns past; residue of good training and race fitness.  Neither of the above are things which I've had for - heck, a while.

This weekend's Tyler Jefferson Memorial 5K was a test event for this coach, and one he miserably failed if not graded on a curve.  I knew I wasn't going to have a replay of last year's Metairie Cemetary 5K "Run Through History" result, but I didn't think I would run THAT poorly.  Since late May I have had the ability to amble and ramble for 90 minutes to two hours, to laugh and solve the world's problems over the course of 7-or-8 miles.

But that ain't training.

Everyday fitness and runner fitness, much less (5K) race fitness, are two different physiological states.  Seven-minute pieces with one-minute recoveries will get you (comfortably?) to the first mile split, after which either reality sets in (your brain asks for your 'recovery piece...') and the remaining two miles or so become very, uh, entertaining.

I did mention "graded on a curve," right?  In this case, let's say my raw score was failing, but because the overwhelming majority of my fellow participants were as badly unprepared for running more than 1.5 miles as I (typical active-duty military "three-mile-a-year-club" members) I managed to pull a passing grade out of my running shorts.

Have you ever heard the maxim: "in the land of the blind the one-eyed man is king?"
In this case, I raced a more-smart race than a handful of my fellow competitors because I knew EVERY LAST INCH of the course, every turn, and every tangent.  Before I started to measure courses I took the time and effort to look at the course map provided at packet pick-up.  Brian McMahon taught me how to run tangents on a race course, and it's a lesson I've retained for the last ten years.

You can't go into a road race, shut your mind off & expect to run your best. Smart pacing & smart training will keep a racer in the pack with their peers, but precious seconds can be wasted or gained in a road race by knowing the course & running the shortest possible distance.

There aren't many races I run not on a certified course. I want to know the distance is reasonably accurate (USATF says this is "not short"). This way I can tell how well my training has progressed (or in this case, digressed) over time. When I show up for a race, I can guarantee I will be asked two questions:

- Is the course certified?  When it comes to Pensacola and some of the surrounding area, if I am at the race, the answer is "yes."

- Did I measure the course?  I teach other persons to measure, or at least to understand what I do, so they can educate the local running populace.  If the race is local, the answer is also most likely "yes."

Worst of all, after a race, runners will confront me and say their GPS receiver showed the course to be too long.  I can choose to launch into a highly-technical (and highly-boring) discussion of USATF protocols and GPS limitations, or save my $25 entry fees and drink coffee at home.  Life's too short for me to to let others treat me shabbily.

But back to my "grading on a curve..."  I spent the latter half of the race dragging young Sailors along the shortest possible distance they could legally take on the course.  Some people may say it's an unfair advantage.  I like to call it "free speed."

I explained this to a younger race participant, one of whom were amazed to find out just how inefficiently he might have run that morning.  I used a standard 400-meter track as an example:
- The width of one lane of a standard 400-meter running track is 1.25 meters.
- An athletic track lane distance calculator (http://www.brianmac.co.uk/tracklane.htm) shows the distance around a 400-meter track, in lane three (3.75 meters out from the inside rail) is 415.71 meters.
- Multiply the additional distance by 12.5 (the number of laps in a 5,000 meter track race) and the total distance is 5,196.375 meters.
- The width of one lane of a two-lane roadway with a shoulder is approximately 3.75 meters, a little over 12 feet in width. So you can add up to an additional 200 meters of distance to run if you're one lane of road out from the tangent...50-60 seconds additional time.  How many of us would like to drop up to a minute off our 5K time?

A set of legs, a heart & lungs in the best of shape can be defeated by a brain that's not prepared on race day. Know the turns on the course, run the tangents, take up to three-percent off your performance...without additional training.

Need A New Window Sticker

(NOTE:  This post is dedicated to my (Iron)friends Betsy and Aaron.)

Before leaving the house last Wednesday morning (the day after the election), I took a couple of minutes to remove a couple of political campaign decals from the rear window of my car.

(Don't worry. This is not going to be a politically-motivated topic of discussion. While the athletes I coached had a very good idea of my political philosophy; the track was always a "politics-free" zone. The Sunday morning run, on the other hand, has become an exercise in political humor. We always have THE PERFECT SOLUTION to the world's problems figured out at some point between mile two and mile six. Of course, by the time we hit breakfast we are no longer in a position to execute the master plan.)

There was no need to inform my fellow citizen of my election vote. It was definitely high time to move on with life. But it seemed, the morning after, all I saw on my social media account were commentaries by people unable or unwilling to step away from the political junk food. No, there is nothing wrong with being politically conscious, but the "Monday morning-quarterbacking" was best left to the media on Wednesday. Any longer than that was going to place me in a state of depression which rivaled the state of stress I was in during the days leading up to the election.

My, how our approach to politics can be much like the way we approach an endurance event. We can prepare for months, and in some cases a year or more, for a single day's madness. At the end of the event, we can engage in an all-too-brief time of celebration (or anti-celebration), after which comes the post-event let-down/depression. The second half of the classic 'existential dilemma' question: "What now?"

ANALYSIS: It’s time to do a little soul-searching. How did the race go? This can be looked at in the very-gray shades of subjectivity, as well as the black-and-white of race time, overall place and age group standing. The good and the bad of a race can exist right next to each other. There have been races where I ran a personal best, yet I knew clearly the things which left me completely stressed-out before, or cost me precious seconds during the race. There also have been races which I ran a slower time than I hoped, but everything around the event preparation and execution was technically-perfect.

 

So, what did you do well; what made you feel ready to toe the line for the gun? Don’t hesitate to consider how you trained the weeks before or what you ate during the last couple of days before the race. You don't necessarily have to be superstitious & do the exact same thing before every race, but this exercise can help you to learn the (smart) things which prepare you the best.

Take a close look to see if there were perhaps there were some tactical miscues, a warm-up which was too long, too short, or too intense, or (heaven forbid...none of us have ever done this...) one-too-many beers the night before the race. There’s always room for improvement, and if you're really honest with yourself you’re going to have no problem finding things which might be changed. HOWEVER, don’t dwell on the positives or the negatives from the race any longer than 30 minutes.

CELEBRATION: It is fun to compare notes with your running friends; even talk a little smack which you’ll eventually have to back up; you’re only as good as your next race. There’s nothing like earning hardware, and some age groups are tougher than others. Make certain to appreciate the efforts of all of the athletes; you’ll be amazed at the longevity of some & the speed of others. Respect given leads to respect earned. Perhaps you didn't earn an award, but you ran a personal best or helped someone else to have a great race. Don’t worry. Trophies break & get dusty, but the memory of a PR lasts a long time.

AFTERMATH: A running companion of mine put it well: “The day after I run a good race I go for an easy run. The day after a bad race I go for an easy run.” But, there were many times when the day-after runs were more intense than the previous day. Recovery is where the performance gains are made.

Two post-race recovery rules-of-thumb I like to follow, and often use when laying out plans for an athlete:

Light activity, but no running - one day for each hour of racing. If the race lasts less than an hour, take a day.

One day of easy running (no speed work or racing) for each mile of racing. You can hit the track on Tuesday after a 5K on Saturday, but should run easy for the next week after a 10K.

There are only so many good races a runner can run each season, which depends on base fitness, intensity of workouts, strength and ability to recover after a race. The best runners can stay at peak fitness for six to eight weeks, the citizen-athlete for a much shorter period. Too many races in too short a time can lead to disappointment & injury. Listen to your body & do what feels right for you.

THE NEXT GOAL: Time to sit down and plan for your next goal event. You’re only as good as your next race, so don't focus on the last one you did for too long.

You Ran the NYC Marathon, and All I Got Is A Damp, Dark Apartment

If there's any population which understands the phrase "life turned upside down," especially after tropical storms or hurricanes, it is the residents of the Gulf Coast.  We live in "Mother Nature's Great Big Trap Shooting Range" from June to December.  Storms hit...everything is transformed into what appears to be a bad camping trip: 

Central heat and air is replaced by darkness and humidity.  

Regular (healthy) meals are replaced with Meals, Ready to Eat (meals, rejected by everybody?), or the desperate backyard grilling of everything which is thawing in the freezer.  

We suffer from a lack of warm showers, lack of e-mail, and lack of phone communication for a couple of days to a couple of weeks. 

Our water comes from a bottle. 

Our coffee fix goes from Community or Starbucks to freeze dried.  Lukewarm freeze-dried.

And then there's the upheaval which takes place in our running lives.  If our favorite run routes aren't debris-strewn they're still underwater.  Or worse, without street lamps and traffic signal.  Our first long run after Hurricane Ivan almost saw half our group killed by a car driving all over a slick, darkened road at 6:30 in the morning.

All we wanted was to get our lives back to "quote-unquote normal."  Our next local road race was initially scheduled for two weeks after the storm, but no races were run downtown for probably a year.  Small scale when compared to New Orleans, but unsettling nevertheless.

When I raced the 2006 Crescent City Classic; the hotel in which we stayed still had an armed security guard.  My first reaction during the race was that things were clearly back on the road to normal.  However, I quickly learned this was not the case.  The first clue was the amazingly large mound of wood, refrigerators, tree limbs and home materials which made it impossible to see across the neutral ground from the window of the parish school bus.  In fact, I would have been hard-pressed to say it was neutral ground.  Second, my friend Scott and I went for an easy eight miles the next day; as we went up Esplanade we saw vacant lots.  These weren't vacant last year, dude.

So now New York City and much of the tri-state area are a mess because of Sandy.  While there are probably a few persons who registered for the New York City Marathon (at $216) and made their travel and lodging plans who really, truly want to run in New York regardless of the conditions, should it be at the expense of the millions of residents of the area, from Hoboken to Queens, to the Lower East Side, who really could use the infrastructure being squandered on a bunch of selfish endurance enthusiasts?

Don't be too surprised if the crowds along the 26.21876-mile course are a little on the sparse side this year, or if the signage says things like "Will Cheer For Electricity," Or "Dude, Where's My Generator?"  Or "You Ran the NYC Marathon, and All I Got Is A Damp, Dark Apartment."

Best sign idea for the weekend would have to be - and you can send this on to the New York Road Runners Club and Mary Wittenberg:

"W. W. F. D. - What Would Fred (Lebow) Do?"

Better Living Through Chemistry?

Suzanne and I were on the west coast...of Michigan, last week, for our son's wedding.  We were changing into our fine attire and lacing up our tennis shoes - a 'fashion statement' if you're not a runner; otherwise it's another day in rubber soles - when Suzanne asked, "do you have any ibuprofen?"

"Well, no," was my reply. 

When Suzanne and I travel, the first thing/s packed are (one or more pairs of) running shoes, shorts, socks, t-shirts, and my Garmin 310XT.  Whatever space I have in my luggage after that goes to "civilian" clothes once the personal care items, electronic device chargers, reading materials and drugs are tucked away.  This was not a "typical" road trip for me; I did not plan on running, therefore I did not expect to endure (my) "typical" running-related aches and pains.  Fortunately for me there was a store up the block from the reception hall, so I was able to grab up a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug (NSAID) of choice, in this case ibuprofen. 

Suzanne can get pain relief from almost any over-the-counter NSAID (aspirin, acetaminophen, ibuprofen, or naproxen being the most common versions), whereas I am a little more picky.  I have to be.  I rummaged through the kitchen cabinet, desperately searching for ibuprofen last week, when Suzanne pulled out a box of "ibuprofen with diphenhydramine" capsules.  I graciously declined, and informed her that the Benadryl she offered along with the ibuprofen would make the ache go away to my satisfaction, but I would be on the couch for the afternoon.  Sometimes I'm anal retentive like that.  (One of the few times where my 14-year medical transcription career was beneficial after college.)

So why can some folks take any NSAID and others (like me) require a specific compound? 

When we do damage to ourselves the body begins to repair the damage through the inflammatory response.  This response involves the release of enzymes and chemicals which begin the restoration of damage...and transmit "it hurts when I do that" messages to the brain so we will stop doing what hurts.  NSAIDs are divided into two categories: selective inhibitors and non-selective inhibitors, based on the enzyme which is inhibited from production (and transmission), known as COX-1 and COX-2.  Inhibit the COX-1 enzyme too much and you run the risk of ulcers, stomach bleeding, and prolonged bleeding time.  Most of the over-the-counter NSAIDs are pretty much non-selective, which means they inhibit  both enzymes in varying degrees.  Selective inhibitors (all of which require a prescription) focus more closely on the COX-2.  Runners who might be taking drugs to thin their blood, or bruise easily might want to take an NSAID other than aspirin, since aspirin can slow the clotting of blood for 4-to-7 days, where other drugs only slow blood clotting for a few hours.

The best over-the counter NSAID for each person, like any training plan or shoe, depends on age, cause and severity of the pain, as well as what your stomach can tolerate.  After a week take the time to figure out if the drug helped ease the inflammation with no side effects.  A single-blind test of over-the-counter NSAIDs found naproxen gave greatest relief from pain, followed by aspirin and ibuprofen.

But NSAIDs do not heal pain, they decrease the inflammatory response and the pain messages sent to the brain.  No drug can replace the common sense factors of rest, analysis of what caused the pain, and correction of the causes.  After you figure out what happened then it's time to get back out on the road.

Instant Running?

I was "batching it" last week, as Suzanne was out of town at an internet telephony conference.  There are benefits and drawbacks to these one-week separations.  The benefit, I guess, you could say, is that I become sort of a hermit; I focus all of my attention on taking care of the dog, as well as my training runs/cross-training.  That meant I had to wake up early enough to feed and walk the dog before getting ready for work.  We do have a coffeemaker with a timer on it, which if I prepare accordingly will awaken me with the aroma of mountain-grown goodness.  Unfortunately, we ran out of "real" ground coffee and I had to settle for freeze-dried instant coffee. 

When you're desperate enough, even freeze-dried coffee tasted pretty darn good.  I wrote myself a little mental note: "stop at the local grocery by the gym; don't forget the beans, stupid."  But, naturally, all I wanted to do once my afternoon workout was completed was get home, change out of my wet soppies, feed the dog and grab a cold beer.  Each morning I kicked myself in the behind for my laziness.  Each evening I conveniently forgot the need to go to the store.  Until Suzanne got home and we needed to go shopping to replace the freezer-to-table, microwave-friendly entrees with frozen veggies, bread, meat, and our other "real" food staples.  Oh, and beer.

We are a lazy, "instant" generation.  I can hear all of the responses from here:  "Duh," you say.  Microwave ovens make freezer-to-table entrees possible for even the most ham-fisted and inept of cooks.  Writer/chef Anthony Bourdain dedicates a chapter in his book "Medium Raw" to the need for culinary literacy for all persons, not just married women.  Face it.  You never know when you're going to have to fend for yourself. 

But we always have a deadline standing in our face; a target which we need to hit at least once a year, sometimes twice.  How many persons do you know who race one event a year; train for six weeks, eight weeks, do the race, then nothing for the next 40. 

It happens every October in my workplace.  The training manager who works next to administers the twice-yearly fitness testing and weigh-in.  If I had a dollar for every time an instructor questioned him, "how soon do I have to be fit?"  Duh.  Isn't that part of your profession?  Aren't you supposed to be ready to go do your job whereever your employer (and mine) tells you? 

The great New Zealand running coach Arthur Lydiard didn't have a lot of nice things to say about American runners, which probably had a lot to do with the American "overnight success" mentality.  He said that to become a good runner (besides winning the genetics and parenting lotteries) it took "...a lot of hard work for five, six, or seven years.  There is no secret formula.  There is no shortcut..."

Unless you're participating in a program where there's at least one pop icon serving as a judge, I cannot think of any other "American Idol." "The Voice," or "X-Factor," I can think of no human endeavor where success occurs quickly or instantly.  Definitely not running, as I've seen while watching the ups and downs of guys like Dathan Ritzenhein.  Or in rehabilitation; my own stumbles and failures have made me much more compassionate, or at least emphathetic, to the struggles of persons who "would love to run" but are perplexed by physiological, psychological, or economic (and when I say economy, I'm talking time, which definitely is a limited commodity) barriers.

It's easy to go the "microwave" route and focus on running for that all-too-brief period of the year, ending up with something that really doesn't satisfy the taste buds and looks like, well, like something that's been microwaved.  There are smells, sights, sensations and feelings which can be found from running throughout the year...even if most of the mileage is done on a treadmill...which we all need to "read," to "loan out" to our friends, and perhaps to "write about" on occasion.

Pump Up Or Chill Out Pre-Race? It's Not That Big A Stretch

In Running With The Bulls, Chris Lear describes a scene at a collegiate cross-country meet where one team huddled up before the start and chanted "Motivate!  Motivate! Ooh, aah, gonna kill somebody!  Ooh, aah, gonna kill somebody!"  The Colorado University coach or one of the runners made a comment along the lines of "yeah, that's going to work..." 

I can't say I've seen anything quite that agressive when I've looked across the start corral, but then again, I haven't been inside the music player of every running enthusiast.  There are most likely as many shades of "pump-up" or "cool-down" on race day as there are shades of race-day attire.  So what is the best state to be in so you can run your best race?

Donohue, Miller, Beisecker, Houser, et. al. (2006) studied the effects of brief yoga exercises and motivational preparatory interventions in distance runners.  They had participants to a one-mile baseline run, then randomly assigned them to participate in either brief yoga exercises, motivational shouting exercises, or no preparation about 20 minutes before a second one mile trial. 

Participants assigned to the motivational intervention improved their running performance significantly more than those assigned to the other two conditions (British Journal of Sports Medicine, Vol. 40, Ed. 1., Jan 2006).  But if you're not into screaming bloody murder just before a race to pump you up, perhaps you might want to try the yoga. 

Men's Journal magazine provides a series of yoga poses they, and coach/author Sage Rountree, propose will "make you a better runner, improve running form and balance."  While Rountree is quoted in the article, "We're not trying to get runners to touch their toes or get their feet behind their head," there's a yoga pose where the runner takes their leg behind their head.  "We're trying to keep them fluid through the range of motion they use for running," she says, "so there isn't a hitch in their stride" which leads to lower extremity overuse injuries.  Some of the poses are below.  If you are interested in the rest of the poses you can either grab up the September 21 edition of Men's Journal or check on-line at  http://www.mensjournal.com/expert-advice/10-yoga-poses-for-runners-20120921#ixzz283da22FR

Low Lunge - To get into the Low Lunge, put one foot forward and lunge so that the front knee is over the front ankle and the back knee is down. Move the hands from the floor to the knee and, if steady, overhead. Hold the position for five to 10 breaths and then switch legs (always do both sides in yoga).  This position works all kinds of muscle groups – thighs, groin, abs – and improves flexibility in the split-legged position that's similar to a running stride.

Low Lunge With Twist - From the Low Lunge position, Twist your torso toward the front leg, putting one palm on the ground and the other hand on the knee. Hold for five to 10 breaths. This will stretch the outer hip and the IT band of the front leg, both of which tend to be tight in runners. The twisting should also relieve some tension in the lower back.

Downward-Facing Dog - Start on the hands and knees, with your knees below the hips and the hands just in front of the shoulders. Then, walk your knees back six to 10 inches, turn the balls of the feet to the floor, spread your fingers wide against the mat, and lift your hips into an upside-down V. Hold for 10 breaths.  This is a traditional yoga pose that lengthens your back and stretches everything from the arches up through the shoulders. It also builds upper body strength so you don't end up with tree trunk legs and broomsticks for arms.

Child's Pose - This is a mild stretch for the lower body which can also help with focus and relieve tension. Get into a kneeling position. Then lay your stomach on your thighs and put your head on the ground. Your arms can be lengthened in front of you or simply rest, fingers pointed behind, next to your legs. You should feel lengthening through the back and stretching in the hips, thighs, ankles, and feet. This is a resting position, so you can hold for 10 breaths or stay longer.

Squat - Also called the Garland Pose, the squat in yoga isn't all that different from the one you've done at the gym, form-wise. To get into the position, squat with your knees over your toes – legs at a 45-degree angle from the midline – and hold your hands together like you're praying. The heels don't necessarily need to touch the ground. Hold for five to 10 breaths. The squat stretches the back, inner thighs, calves, and feet – everything that tightens up from running. This encourages a fluid range of motion and helps with plantar fasciitis and ITBS.

Locust - The Locust is a simple and essential pose for distance runners. To do it, lay on your stomach with your hands by the hips, then lift your torso, arms, and legs simultaneously. Hold this for five to 10 breaths and repeat three times.  It's not as easy as it looks. This position strengthens the muscles in your neck, back, and the backs of the arms and legs. You'll find that it improves your posture, especially toward the end of a marathon-length run, when those core support muscles start to give way. Plus, you'll have a little more protection from lower back injuries.

Legs Up The Chair - Legs swell, sometimes for a few days, after long runs. You can wear compression socks, which seems a little silly during warm summer months.  Another way to help the body recover is to move your seat to the base of a chair or coffee table and rest your calves on top of it so that you have 90-degree angles at the knees and hips. Stay there for 20 breaths or more. This will help with cramped, swollen legs, and will also encourage relaxation after an intense run.

Rountree also believes yoga improves focus before and during the race, when mental staying power is as important as physical endurance.  Her most recent book is "The Runner's Guide to Yoga," and is published by VeloPress.