Time It Takes to Post

Perhaps I should put a little more effort into posting these blog posts. Perhaps that would be the case if I actually had a few followers.

Cliche Explanation of Inspiration

I suppose I’m far enough along in the entries of my blog that I am supposed to explain why I decided to make the switch from all of my other athletics to running. I suppose it seems a little cliché to write this (it does feel the most Doogie Howser of all my posts thus far), but for some reason I want to write it, perhaps so that I can re-inspire myself.

During the fall-winter of 2009 I put on weight, a lot more than my usual winter padding. Perhaps it was stress, perhaps it was because I quit rugby to focus more on grad school, perhaps it was because my son was on solid foods and I ate off his plate. Irregardless, I put on more than usual and was up to 265, and was severely lacking in the muscle mass department. So in February of 2010 I got back into the gym, and this time I spent more time running than on the free weights, I had decided that the higher priority was to lose weight first then worry about lifting cars off the ground. After getting up to 1.5 miles at a time I started developing serious shin splints. So I decided, “since I am serious about this losing weight thing, I ought to spend more than $30 on a pair of workout shoes.” So I went to my local shoe store (Bob Ronker’s Running Spot) and bought a nice pair of Nikes. There they assessed my old shoe and informed me that I was sub-pronating.

Being a fan of research (I know; I’m weird. Did I mention that I teach history?) I started looking into running form. I requested a running DVD from the library and accidentally got the book “Born to Run” by Chris McDougall. The day before I was about to return it, I caught an interview of McDougall on the Colbert Report (yes, I know it’s not actual news) and decided it might be worth a skim. Once I started the book, I found myself enthralled. Not only did I find the content interesting, but I found the style of writing to be gripping (which is actually most people’s complaint about the book, I loved how he practically wrote his passion into his work especially how passionately he researched the topics and included the “dry stuff” [again: I’m weird about research]) and despite his romanticizing of the Tarahumara people I loved this invigorated approach to his falling in love with a topic (I wish my students wrote with such enthusiasm). The book spoke to me, and it said “Go Run.” His passion sparked my passion, I hadn’t fallen for a non-fiction work since I was 19. I was outright into “running,” not necessarily barefoot (yet, that’s a lot of weight on your feet when you weigh as much as me), but I wanted to run, and I wanted to run an Ultra then and there. But knew that I would have to work up to it. I quickly lost 35 pounds. I was running 4 to 6 nights a week, increasing my distance each time. But I wasn’t exactly improving my form, just running harder, running the way I was taught during football. After creating a PR of 26min flat in a 5k (best in my weight class, by the way) I felt amazing, and was ready to sign up for 10k. Within a week, during a 4.5 mile run, I would start to feel the effects of PF. After that I started to take time off of running, and vowed that when I started again I would do it right. Over time I began to get the other message of the book: running form. Since then I’ve devoted a lot of time to working on form and even worked out a sechedule to start back up in a slow, gradual process (I think that my eagerness to rack on mile is what over did it). So, slowly but surely this heavy weight runner will run right.

Problem Solved

If you’ve been following along (I mean the one subscriber who probably isn’t even reading this) you may remember my problem with avoiding the free-weight region of the gym. And like a fly to water (or more like a junkie to smack) I found myself doing an intense shoulder workout, complete with grunts and weight belt. As punishment I found myself popping my AC joint in my right shoulder as pressed up a 95lb dumbbell. So, to solve my problem, I now cannot lift upper body even if I tried. As much as I appreciate the appropriate godsmack, it does make driving a stick shift rather difficult.

Let's Try Swimming

In attempts to boost my cardio without upping my distance (I’ll be honest with you, I still haven’t ran more than .75 miles consecutively, I’ve been breaking it up into ¼ mile stretches with long walking breaks in between), for fear of the accursed Plantar Fasciitis coming back, I’ve been trying to cross-train. Since I was sidelined last August with PF I’ve been apprehensive to do any considerable distance until it’s all but dissipated, which has left me rather limited. I’ve been spending time on elliptical machine, the stationary bike, and my old friend the Stairmaster in addition to the treadmill. Until I can overcome my unfounded fear of cycling classes (no really, I don’t know why they scare me, it makes no sense) I am stuck in a very limited routine, and will have to hold off on my goal of a triathlon. So this week I decided to use that warm indoor pool that is almost always empty at my gym. I thought to myself, “I used to love swimming as a kid, and I was really really good at it,” and I was. I would spend hours in the pool, and not just diving and playing, but doing laps. As a kid in Boston, my uncle would swim with me out to the buoys and back, then when we moved to KY I would swim across the nearby lake (until my Ma heard about another kid who had an unfortunate incident with a box turtle [I still maintain that the story was a fabricated attempt to keep me from getting filthy with lake water]). So there I was, ready to swim. I had allotted myself half and hour to do laps (I figured I’d start out small) before having to shower and get to work. Eleven minutes (and 3.5 laps) later, I was gasping for air, practically drowning from all the water I’d ingested, and about 2 BPM away from a coronary. Apparently during my swim-less adolescence I had forgotten how to swim (thanks Ma). After conferring with some of my friends they assured me that it’s okay. They told me that it’s normal to have to relearn how to swim, that my body just isn’t built the way it was back then, and that since I’m heavier (and not the buoyant weight of too much extra fat) my lower half is dragging more than it did years ago. I think that they are full of it. Olympic swimmers have nearly zero buoyant weight and proper form doesn’t change with size. Then after talking with some more “frank” people they told me that it is my fault (what I had thought all along). Turns out that I was turning my head the wrong way when free styling (they think it was a result of me somehow combining different forms together in attempts to remember how to swim). Since then I’ve tried to correct myself and made it to eleven laps. Turns out swimming is just plain exhaustive, it leaves me (almost) as much out breath as MMA, but with fewer opportunities to breath. I’m still a long way off from triathlon distances (which is moot because of the cycling), but at least now I have another means of working out. Slowly but surely (and maybe even surly) this Heavyweight will be a runner.

Winter vs Will Power

It is winter here in the greater Cincinnati area which means slush; snow, ice, wind, but mostly slush. This has forced me indoors for my training. Now, originally I’m from Boston, MA so the cold doesn’t bother me, and I often complain about my fellow Northern Kentuckians being unable to deal with inclement weather, but I find myself unable to run outdoors for three reasons:

One, you can’t go for more than a quarter-mile in Northern KY without running into a steep hill, and I want to run not play Slip-&-Slide.

Two, as high of a tolerance as I have for the bitter chill (I tend to sport shorts year-round, and before I got married the thermostat was set to 58° all winter) there’s one thing I cannot tolerate cold wet feet. I don’t mind wet feet, or cold feet, but I cannot stand cold wet feet.

Three, I was hopping to start experimenting with barefoot running; which further exacerbates reasons one and two.

So, winter, again places me in the gym. Which isn’t so much a complaint as a concern. You see; I feel very at home in the gym almost too at home. Back in college (pre-parenthood, pre-marriage, pre-career) I spent nearly as much time working out as I did anything else: studying, partying, hanging-out, etc. This was a time in my life when I was bench pressing twice my body weight, lifting the back end of my truck up off the ground, moving furniture for friends (that was somewhat of a crowd favorite). I wasn’t that big, but I was strong and I felt powerful, and it felt great. Since then, I’ve been back in the gym for brief 3-9 month surges of commitment before life pulls me back out. And during those stints of lifting, I fall in to that same passion of my college days; the power and joy of hoisting ridiculous amounts of weight in the air. However, now I’ve dedicated myself to the serious attempt of becoming a runner. Making weight-lifting a distraction to that goal. When you have precious little time to devote to fitness, it’s easy for a (ex-)weight lifter to spend all of that time working his different muscle groups. So after much self-bargaining I allow myself light lifts for my upper-body on running days, and once a week I do an intense leg lift that leaves me incapacitated for 2 days. But I still miss it; especially since all of the cardio equipment at my gym is located on a balcony that overlooks the weight equipment. So now I am forced to watch people lift weights while I run on a treadmill (my least favorite method of running). While I know that I made the right choice, I still have that desire to skip the run and get a great lift in (everyday). It’s like being married your wife taking you to the Victoria Secret Runway Show (not that I’ve experienced that, but I imagine the feeling is comparable). So I suppose a more apt title for this entry would be “Winter and Weight-Lifting vs Will Power.”

Running Class

I’ve come to agree with the statement that all athletics need coaching. For years I thought it was only for team sports (more so that everyone got along and did their job), but it’s become obvious that you need know someone who knows more about their niche than any human should. Not knowing any serious runners (besides one of my students, and he’d make it a point to embarrass me) I decided to seek one out. So a few weeks ago I signed up for a running class at the tri-state’s running shop/headquarters Bob Roncker’s Running Spot, mostly because it was free but also because I was actually free that morning.

The session was two parts: Technique, Drills, Exercises, and Stretches followed by them Filming us run (this part excited and scared me). Granted, none of the information or materials were new to me (I am a research fanatic) it was great to experience the lessons first person. Nothing replaces a actual teacher. Seeing the drills, doing them, then being told whether or not they were being done right is far and away better than trying to grasp them from a book or YouTube video. Later when we ran, there was a little warm up, but the instructor had/did something that I never would have considered. He had a little electronic metronome, and set it to 180bpm (an “ideal” pace for a short efficient stride). Once we got going it actually began to sink in, and the cadence felt natural (a little quick, but good). I did well on tape, but I think that was because I knew I was being watched (another reason why I should run with a partner, but that’s another story), and I wish I could maintain that on a longer distance.

Partly why this class was free was because it was being put on by New Balance and Merrell. They brought samples of their minimalist shoes for all of the class participants to try on, and even run around in. I wasn’t too big a fan of the NB Minimus Trails, the area between the arch and the “toe knuckles” was too tight, even when I went two sizes up (causing everything else to feel loose). I did however like the Merrell Trail Gloves, they fit perfectly snug with a wide-open toe box (freedom I’ve grown to love in my few laps barefoot on the football field) and there was just enough tightness around the arch to make it feel almost like support, without being intrusive (I especially like how when I stand still flat footed, I can feel the sag in the arch, telling me that the arch isn’t doing the work, it’s just helping the muscles in my feet do the work). Once I have to foot strength to run with zero padding (and the money to blow on even more shoes, unless Merrell is reading this and wants to send me some) the Merrells are the shoe for me.