10-Day Post

Phwew, what a week. I've been researching in Pennsylvania and have found myself somehow too busy to update this and all other blogs. The good news is: I've been running.

Friday (03.16): I ran my varsity cross country course, something I haven't done for fifteen years or more. What a course! Back me up on this everybody who ran cross country in Western Pa: one of the best courses in the state. Hills, open spaces, one long stretch, hills, hills, hills.

For instance:

This is the one long stretch I mentioned: we called it the flats. In retrospect, every workout was a hill workout growing up in this place.

But before we get to the flats, we had to share elbows and snot with three hundred other runners up this hill, the beginning of the course:

Up the gravel, through the pines, past the pavilion at the top of the hill -- it might have been half a mile to the flats, but it often felt like five.

I was never a good runner. I was above average. But in the mid-nineties, I'm pretty sure everybody running cross country was above average. My best time on our course was 16:30 (2.9 miles, a very fast course, considering the standard 3.1). I would have considered myself good at 16:15 or better, and my senior year, we had three great runners on my team, all running sub 16:00 -- it was always awesome to watch the three of them for the first quarter mile . . . also, to see them finishing post-race meals as I crossed the finish line.

Speaking of which:

Here's a picture from the pavilion up top back to the start / finish line. At this point, we've been running down hill for nearly a mile, and here's the final stretch -- fastest finish, I'd imagine you'll ever run.

I ran the course today in 22:35 -- not quite my own course record, nor was I pushing particularly hard, though I did feel like a kid again down that last stretch.

When I was in school the course record was 14:10. 14:10! It was held by Mike McWilliams of Grove City and Amy Rudolph of Kane, whose time I don't remember. Anyway, I only have to take nine minutes off my time, and I'll be back in business.

*     *     *

Saturday (3.17): I met with my famed chiropractor Dr. Stick this morning. I told him that my back had been hurting for some time. He said, "Now, the back is the part you can't see, right? The front is the part that's in the mirror? I always get those two switched."

I said, "I seem to be having some problems with my sciatica, maybe my fourth lumbar. Any advice?"

He said, "Have you been running?"

I said, "Yes."

He said, "Well, I'm stumped. Have you tried running farther?"

So he and I went for a 12-mile run through the "Valley That Changed the World." We either ran it in 1:43:18 or 1:48:13 -- I wrote it down, but can't remember. During the run, he wisely distracted me from my back issues by talking about high school basketball. Sometimes I forget how awesome I was when I'm alone, but Dr. Stick reminded me of how great we were, or how close to greatness we were. Almost certainly, if it weren't for one or two minor details (particularly, our height and our ability) we would certainly have won just about every state championship during the early 1990s. What fun!

We talked running and local politics and oil and industry and of course made slight mention of how sad all of the high school girls, who never dated us, must be now that we are both spoken for. Long story short: my back felt much better. More great healing. Thanks, Dr. Stick!

*     *     *

Sunday (3.18): Okay, normally I take the day after a long run off, but I felt great, and went out for a few miles. I ran 24:15 out, but remembered that I told my spouse I'd be back in 40:00, so I ran like hell to get home in 18:30.

*     *     *

Monday (3.19): Ran with my girls. Well, the big one ran, the little one biked, along the Rails to Trails. Three miles (40:00 minutes).

*     *     *

Tuesday (3.20): Had another appointment with Dr. Stick today. We ran 5 quarter-mile hill repeats at about 1:50 per. The run was great -- beautiful late winter PA weather -- a great time and place to sprint.

This will be my last appointment with Dr. Stick until Saturday 20 May when we'll meet in Cleveland for my first marathon.

*     *     *

Wednesday (3.21): My spouse dropped me off on the way to the camp. Ran seven miles at what I would call a 9:00 minute pace. No mile markers for the first three miles (28:45). But then I ran half miles at 4:30, 4:22, 4:26, 4:28, and the final two miles at 8:41 and 8:58. Plus an extra little kick at the end for a total of 1:05:45. Another lovely run along the Allegheny River Rails To Trails.


*     *     *

Thursday: Dr. Stick told me about a workout that I might enjoy for my back. He said he recently ran 8X800 meters, shooting for 3:20 for each repeat. I decided to try this today.

After a ~two-mile warm up (20:00), I found a track. Here's my times:

Lap 1                 Lap 2                800 meters
1:34                   1:39                  3:14
1:42                   1:38                  3:21
1:42                   1:40                  3:23
1:44                   1:36                  3:21
1:38                   1:36                  3:15
1:36                   1:32                  3:09
1:41                   1:34                  3:16
1:42                   1:40                  3:23

So I ran 4 repeats over my goal pace and 4 under. If we agree to call the 1:32 and the 1:44 anomalous, I'd say my pace is fairly consistent. Overall, I'm pleased with this run.

*     *     *

Friday: Ran four miles with the crapradoodle today at an adequate crapping pace (40:23).

*     *     *

Saturday: I ran two loops today. Lap one: 1:14.20. Lap two: 1:09:22. Total 2:23.43 (~15.5 miles) with a twelve-minute break in between loops. We'll call the break a ghost break, and strike ghost-pepper sauce off the list of things to eat on a cheese burger the night before a long run.

When I got home, I signed up for my first half marathon, which will take place in Athens, OH on April 01 -- hey, six days!

Also, my first marathon. I signed up for that, too. Dr.'s orders. Cleveland: May 20. I'm gonna hafta learn how to run farther by then.

*     *    *

Sunday: Off, reluctantly.

*     *     *

Monday: We're back home now, after about two-weeks worth of travel. I think, at this point, I'll be able to get back into posting more frequently.

Ran the same loop as Saturday (1:05.30) . . . probably faster than I should have, but I was excited to get home.

Longest Run So Far This Month

Prerun meal: one cup of coffee, one cup of Kefir, two handfuls of peanuts. Yum!

I should mention that last night I decided to run my long run all at once, all in the morning, for fear that I would get caught up in other things . . . and I think I've made the right choice, but before I say any more about that:

Have you tried Kefir? It's a dream. Probiotic, 11g of protein. It's got carbs, it's easy on the stomach . . . it's the milk that drinks like a pudding! I came up with that slogan on my long run this morning. Thought I'd share it, so everybody could join me in celebrating.

I had in mind to run my 7.5-mile loop twice, but I changed my mind midstride and ended up running until I ran out of bike trail -- I figured, in part, I'd be less likely to stop in at my house after one 7.5-mile loop. I like my house, but it's too easy to stop in for a pee and find myself caught up for the next five hours taking care of the kids or grading papers or fixing the p-drain in the bathroom sink.

The bike trail is nice -- flat, predictable, uncrowded, goosey -- but a touch boring. I prefer hills, have always preferred hills. And turns. And to run along it for a total of fifteen miles, well, that's a lot to ask of this guy:



I kept a little bit better than a 9-minute pace, and turned around after eight miles (1:15:18). I did run a negative split (1:12:50). That's apparently good, I heard someone say in high school. And I've often checked folks' times and said, "Oooooh, negative splits. Way to go." But I don't know why I say that. Just something to say, I guess.

The two noteworthy events of the run are: 1.) first time in my life that the middle third of a run has been the best, most pleasant, easiest. While my knees and hips ached during miles 5-10, and I had sometimes a great notion * during 11-16, I coasted along miles 6-10. I felt fine. I even thought, maybe I'll add on my 3.4 mile loop to celebrate the long run when I get home. Nope! When I got home, I had another cup of Kefir -- Kefir, where have you been all these years -- some leftover green curry my spouse made the other day, and all the water in the spigot.

* Sometimes I live in the country,
Sometimes I live in the town,
Sometimes I take a great notion,
To jump in the river and drown.

And 2.) when I had about 35 minutes remaining in the run (1:55), I just about hit the wall. No specific ailments -- I didn't suddenly cramp up or get dizzy or dehydrated; I didn't lose my breath; my legs didn't give out -- I simply felt like I couldn't go on. Then I recalled an article from Runner's World and I'm going to guess it was from summer 2008 that focused on the psychology of exhaustion. The claim of the piece is that we (humans) tend to begin feeling exhausted just before we reach the halfway point of our physical limitations. I thought, yeah, right, I'll show you physical limitations, and I kept my same pace with the new determination to collapse sometime soon. That'll show Psychology! Unfortunately, I started feeling better after another mile and a half, and made it hope without losing my shit, so to speak.

At any rate, it's true, I celebrate folks who run the ultramarathons, especially as I have yet to run a half, but my celebration of the great distance runners shouldn't stop me from being very pleased with my own version of the long run. So, here's to me. I'm happy about today's run.

Eleven Day Tally 

Sunday: 15.3
Monday: -----
Tuesday: 5.1
Wednesday: 3.4
Thursday: 6.1
Friday: 3.4
Saturday: 3.4
Sunday: 6.0
Monday: 3.4
Tuesday: 4.0
Wednesday: 16.0


Previous:126.6 miles
Year To Date: 146.6miles.

Running Days: 26
Days off: 6

Today's example of math: For anybody who can't find their abacus, I'll do the math for you: if I keep up at this rate, I'll run 435 miles this month . . .

Another Eventful Long Run

I had planned today to do some work in the morning, have a proteiney lunch and run for two hours and twelve minutes -- I thought it would be good to add ten percent to my long run, see what happens. But stuff comes up. My morning got swallowed by a world outside our control, and my afternoon got filled with details.

Because we've had an ice storm on since late Friday, I wanted to spend my run in the rec center. Even though it was a long run, and I dreaded spending 132 minutes on a treadmill, I preferred this notion slipping on ice and breaking my ass.

What I didn't know was that the rec center closes at 7:00 p.m. on Sunday. In fact, I was seven miles into my run before the P.A. kicked on and told me I had fifteen minutes to finish up. Ha! I told the stupid Pa, nobody can run an hour and twelve minutes in fifteen minutes, but then I remembered that's what naysayers always said about the 4-minute mile. Still, in light of my recent boastfulness about being injury-free, I decided to try it when I'm in better shape.

At any rate, I got 8.5 miles (1:16:20) on the treadmill. Then I drove home and ran my 3.4-mile maintenance loop in reverse (31:04) and then ran it again (30:23). For a total of 15.3 miles (2:17:47). I'm pretty sore, but I suppose the idea of a 4:00:00 hour marathon is more reasonable every 9-minute mile I add to the long run.

I mean, look, I know I didn't face any terribly trying adversity today, but I did have a series of rather interesting setbacks. And I feel good about myself this evening. I would like to have run my entire run warm and dry inside at a 6.7 mph pace, maybe sipping occasionally from a water fountain. I didn't want to stop in the middle of my run to drop of Legend of the Sea and a Spongebob Squarepants movie. I didn't want to stop again for a gallon of milk or stop again to change into outdoor clothes, though, yes, once I stopped I wanted to stay stopped. I dig it. None of these things is a deal breaker on its own. But I'm happy for myself that I made it through this run and I expect anybody who's read through this post might be happy for me as well.

Well, thank you. I'm happy for you, too.

Eleven Day Tally

Thursday: ~13.0
Friday: ------
Saturday: 3.4
Sunday: 3.4
Monday: 7.0
Tuesday: 3.4
Wednesday: 3.4
Thursday: 8.0
Friday: 3.4
Saturday: 4.0
Sunday: 15.3

Previous: 86.5
Year To Date: 101.8 miles.

Running Days: 17
Days off: 5


I think I'll take a bath on my day off. That will be pleasant.

Two Hours, Twenty Degrees, Stuff Like That

One of my favorite things about the long run is that so much can happen. I set out last night for a two-hour run. It had been a long day (I get up at 6:00 a.m., start working as soon as I pour a cup of coffee, and I finish teaching at 5:00 p.m.), but we all have long days. I hit the pavement at 5:25 and got home again at 7:30.

Getting out of the house is often a hell of a thing for me: between the grading, the prep, the letters of recommendation, my own writing, spending time with the kids, watching Caprica with my spouse -- there's always something else immediate and pressing that tries to keep me inside.

Last night, for instance, I was hungry. The kids were cooking pizza. I thought about eating pizza and playing Nintendo with them for a bit, taking my long run the next day. I had to practice some pretty serious discipline to grab some peanuts and get my feet moving.

I started just before dark on a breezy, warm, rainy January day. There's a spot on the bike trail where four white-tail deers stand and look at me, as if to say, "Want an ear of corn?" They were there last night. The rain picked up, really started soaking me, and I hadn't eaten enough peanuts. So I stopped by my office where I keep another jar of peanuts and several small boxes of raisins. Forty minutes into my run, I had this little snack and thought, I can get home in twenty minutes; an hour run's respectable; I can grab a slice of pizza . . ., but I pushed through.

It's that middle third of a long run that often gets me. That's also part of what I mean by "Running for the Middle" -- the first forty minutes is nothing, little more than a maintenance run, and the final forty minutes is often accompanied by elation or, at least, a sense of accomplishment -- a good kind of hurt. But those middle forty -- those moments are filled with the fear that I'm never going to get home; my work is piling up; the kids are growing up without a father; the crapradoodle will have run away and bit somebody or joined a circus . . .

I made my turn on the bike trail at close to 80 minutes and felt great -- forty minutes to go; I had worked out the creeks in my calves and hips; I had built up a sweat; my breathing was under control; my pace (9:00 min/mile) was exactly what I wanted. I made the turn for the final forty, and the wind I hadn't realized was at my back hit me full on in the face. The rain, I swear, was just this side of icicles. My shirt spoke out loud to my nipples: "Ha! You thought you were chapped before you made the turn.

I ran through town to get home. I passed a bank at 7:03, twenty-five minutes from home. By this time, the temperature had dropped twenty degrees, and I was feeling it. My forearms had gone numb -- I hadn't dressed for this weather -- and I thought about stopping by a friend's house to borrow a pair of socks for my hands. My long sleeve shirt had lost its efficacy when it became a crackling sheet of ice.

Ever read "To Build a Fire"?

The cold of space smote the unprotected tip of the planet, and he, being on that unprotected tip, received the full force of the blow. The blood of his body recoiled before it. The blood was alive, like the dog, and like the dog it wanted to hide away and cover itself up from the fearful cold.

I thought about that just then.

At this point, I must have looked pretty doofy running along State Street shaking my arms above my head to get blood flowing out of them and then below my waist to get blood flowing into them and then clapping and rubbing my hands, and squinting because, you know, those icedrops, all the while listening to my nipples cutting holes in my t-shirt.

I ran like this passed businesses, the grocery store, restaurants, frat houses, the yoga studio, and back to the top of the hill. At home, I ran my hands under cold water while clapping and rubbing them and took my shower. I stood next to the heater and put an Angry Birds bandaid on each nipple. I ate another snack and drove through the snowy slush to catch the last lines of the fiction reading I had given up for the run.

Unlike our hero from the Jack London story, I was never in any great peril, my peril was much less perilous (I've been thinking of Monty Python today, I guess), because I could have crawled into a gas station or knocked on a friend's door, but the long run is about the closest thing I have to an adventure these days. I like the way it tests my limits, asks me to do things I wouldn't normally set out to do. I like the way I change and the world changes with me while I'm running. It's not a superhuman distance; I'm not fooling myself into thinking I'm doing anything noteworthy. The long run is a different distance for all of us, but I do think it's the crown jewel of my ten-day cycle, not because it's the most important workout for my training, but because it shows me that I can do more than I thought I could do two hours earlier.

Friday: 7.5
Saturday: 3.4
Sunday: ------
Monday: 8.4
Tuesday: 3.4
Wednesday: 3.4
Thursday: ~13.0

Friday: ------

Previous: 37.5

Year To Date: 50.5 miles.

Running Days: 8
Days off: 5

Is it a psychological thing (some folks like to call it a dysfunction, I like to call it a thing) that on days that I have a run planned, I don't want to run, but days I have off, I want nothing more than to grab another dozen miles?

Moderation on a Long Run

Here's another three-day post to catch us all up to speed on my mid-life running adventures. I took yesterday off from running. It was a planned day off, though it really should have been my tenth-day long run. I chose, instead, to spend some time with any kid who walked away from a computer for a few minutes, to tidy up the house a bit, to cook some sauerkraut, to nap on the couch -- it was a good day to rest.

The day before, New Year's Eve, as it happened, I let the crapradoodle drag me around my 3.4 mile maintenance loop (38:04) slow, slow, slowly. I was tired from a long year. That speed was just about all I could manage, all I wanted to manage, but that's fine for a maintenance run, I suppose. One of the biggest mistakes I've made too many times is feeling a desperate need to push too hard on my maintenance runs, leaving me pooped for my more intense runs that then are unfulfilling. I consider it a success in no uncertain terms that, as I approach middle age, I'm starting to recognize my limitations.

Or maybe I'm just wimpy. I accept that possibility as well.

Today, I met a friend for a brisk walk / run. He's trying to get back into running, and I had my long run slated for today, so I ran over to his house (20:00), ran and walked with him (30:00), and ran a winding way home (55:00) -- I don't know what the mileage is, nor do I particularly care. It was nice to be out (even if the weather was the worst so far this season), and it was nice to spend some time with my friend.

There was a moment after the walk / run that I considered bailing on the rest of my own workout, thinking that I could get home in twenty minutes and have more time for my other responsibilities of the day, and this was compelling. I think I could have still felt good about myself -- on the other hand, this would have meant that my long run for this week would have been little more than a maintenance run. I put the other stuff out of my mind and ran for as long as I could (I did, after all, have to give a kid a ride).

Still, I can't help but recognize in myself my tendencies to extremes -- if I can go for a run, I want it to be an insanely difficult run. If I can't go for a run, I want to eat six pieces of cheesecake and drink too much wine. One of the greatest challenges of my running (as well as writing, sleeping, working life) has been finding and maintaining moderation.

Post Script: Thanks, Z and M, for the cheesecake last night. My half of it was delicious.

2nd Half a Long Run

And there's the second half of my run. I avoided the treadmill this evening by promising myself to run this morning's loop backwards. This time I ran the 7.5 a touch slower (1:10:57), but I also added a couple of small stretches to avoid muddy stretches. I'm gonna guess I ran nearly the same pace.

This is the first time I've split a long run in two, and it was a great. Had I waited until this evening to run 15 miles, I'm almost certain I would have turned back early or only completed one loop. Had I tried 15 miles this morning, I would guess I would have been wiped out for the rest of my world after a two-and-a-half-hour workout.

I'm glad I avoided the gym again, too. We are having exceptionally warm 22 December weather -- it's terribly rainy, and, yet, still not so cold that a long-sleeve teeshirt doesn't keep me warm . . . too many double negatives: one long sleeve=warm Jackson today.

I've heard splitting the long run over the course of a day is an effective way to complete such a run. I don't know how the benefits are going to pay out, but I can say this: I'm definitely as sore as I would be had I run 15 in a row.

Post Script: I heard the geese at one point, though it was too dark to see them. I don't know what buzzards sound like. I'm afraid my scavengers have been vanquished . . .

Half a Long Run

I ran my seven-and-a-half mile loop (1:06:22) this morning for the first half of my run. I'm glad I didn't try to take on the whole long run, as I was antsy to get home and get back to work.

It was good to get out again in the morning, a touch colder than I'd like to begin, but a beautiful sunny day.

At one point, looking out over the river, I saw a flock of turkey buzzards on the ground, probably around a hundred of them, and more coming in. I've never seen that many on the ground before. On my side of the river, in the water swam close to the same number of Canada Geese -- I'd like to have stayed around to see what was going down, but, like I say, I have things to do. Anyway, I was rooting for the buzzards. They're an awful lot that folks don't seem to care much for. I say, get 'em, buzzards.

I'll probably take another six or so miles on the tread mill this evening.

On Your Mark, Get Set . . .

So: I promised myself a while back that the next time I went for a run, I would start this blog. I knew it would be "Running for the Middle," and I have some ideas what kinds of things I might write about. But I was still nervous to start. So I took a couple weeks off running.

Today, I couldn't stay away any longer, but I still wasn't ready to blog, so I went for a long run by my standards: 12.4 miles (1:55:11). During that time, I came up with hundreds of interesting things to blog about, but they all went away.

Still, I suppose that's part of this project: to run and be thoughtful and let things go. Which brings me to the first question of this blog: why do you run? Today's answer: to let things go. The answer's different almost everyday for me. Some days, admittedly, it is about health. Some days it's about getting out of the house. Some days, it's a negative answer: e.g. so I don't feel bad about myself. Some days I don't know why I run until I get back from my run. Some days I'm still not sure at that point.

Today, I ran twelve miles, and during that time, a lot cropped up in my mind -- wondering whether or not I'll have a job next year, whether or not we'll have a house, whether or not I'm ever going to "make it" as a writer. There was also stuff about the past: I wondered what would my life would have been like if I had been a better high school runner, what my life would be like if I hadn't stopped running through most of my twenties, what my life would be like if I were more competitive.

When I'm at home, when I'm wondering whether or not to run or blog or cook or read, when I'm cutting grass or walking the dog -- in short, when I'm not running -- I often get caught in those loops, those unproductive loops of planning the future or trying to change the past. But when I'm running . . . not always, but some days, like to day . . . when I'm running I can just let those things go.

So. That's what I did today. I let it all go and ran like hell. It felt good. Now I'm going to shower.