Good Run, Bad News

Miles this week: 28 (yeah, that’s a bit more than last week, what can I say, I’m awesome)

Aches and Pains: not much more than soreness

Binge Eats: just a little bit of one on Saturday (a half a pizza is okay when you’ve burned over 3,000 calories in one run), now if we're counting binge drinks that may be a bit different
Did Monday’s run down at the park, my wife joined me. We took turns watching the kids and running. This little test of the knee was a great boost to my confidence, it really assuaged any concerns I’ve had about it being a legitimate injury.

Then on Wednesday I went out with the Tri-State Running (TSR) Group. They had 7 miles scheduled and my plan was to run those at an easy pace (9:45-10:00 per mile, about 45-60 seconds above goal race pace), but after the first mile I couldn’t help myself. It felt so good to go fast; in all honesty I felt less twinge in my knee the faster I went. So I let myself push it a little and ended up doing all 7 at an avg pace of 8:54, and I felt I could even do more.

I ended up missing Thursday’s run because I had too much to do for school and I really didn’t have the heart to make it work. I got the 'bad news' call from my Mom that my Grandfather was dying and that it was imminent, so I spent the evening with family.

Friday I worked a double; my day started at 5am and went (more or less) non-stop until 3am Friday overnight/Saturday morning. On top of that, while I was traveling (through a tornado warning) from one job to the next I got the 'even more bad news' call that my Grandfather had finally passed.

Even without this news I wasn’t sure if I was going to run my long run (that starts at 7:30 AM) with TSR since I missed their last two, so doing the 17 they had on the docket was a bit of a jump from the last 9 miler I did with them. I started running with TSR’s half marathon training group who was only doing 9 (along the same course, just a sooner turnaround), and maybe going a little past it and turning around, or whatever. None the less I spent the first 3 miles stumbling near the back of the pack using the girl (whose name I’ll later find out is Ashley) a few feet ahead of me as a pacer, fueled nothing but a half a peanut butter sandwich, a cup of coffee, and 3 hours of sleep. For a while I worried that I was creeping her out by running behind her, but that dissipated the second she initiated conversation. And by conversation I mean she simply asked if was running the half or full training run, to which I began to say, “I want to run the full...” and she cut me off by saying, “great, let’s do it.” I think she liked the idea of having a someone at the same pace as her (little did she know that I was only doing it so I could run with as little will power/ thought process as possible), so much so that when we reached the 5mi water stop she offered me some of her SportBeans. It’s funny how just a few words coupled with the knowledge that someone wants you “there” is enough to get you to do something you normally wouldn’t, like run 17 miles. A little later I ended up separated from Ashley and caught up to my DM friend Rachelle, whom I chatted with, rescued from a rabid dog, and got a picture with a giant inflatable pig. Again, it felt nice to have that sense of belonging I sometimes get when I run with the group, it doesn’t hurt that Rachelle is very friendly and talkative (I mean that in a good way if you’re reading this). Little later I caught back up with Ashley. We fought our way up a 500ft incline (at about mile 11) taking turns leading as we went (I didn’t realize how helpful that is), after we crested I thanked her for being the external manifestation of my internal running desires, and we chatted a bit more. Afterwards I felt so incredibly glad that I went ahead with it. I “survived” two opportunities to cave in. I could have cut it short to 9 miles, not to mention I very well could have not gotten out of bed after only 3.5hrs of sleep. But the real benefit was the opportunity to “run through” my thoughts and emotions about my Grandfather.

Assuming anyone is actually still reading at this point, I feel it warrants saying that I’m done talking about running now, and this next paragraph is about my Grandfather. Anthony was a stubborn, tough old man; which is probably why he lived into his 90s. He fractured his back 35 years ago, but that didn’t stop him from anything. He fought WWII (for the Italian army); which made for an interesting situation when I introduced him to my wife. He asked if she was Italian, which she (wrongly) responded with, “no, my family line traces mostly to Germany” (he didn’t take it well). You see, he was very, very much an old world Italian, Sicilian to be specific. He and my Grandmother (who passed back at the end of the 90s) were both immigrants who came this country to raise a family in the American dream. He spent the last few decades speaking a strange mix of Italian and English that no one could understand except those close to him. He, like all good Sicilians, was able to make beautiful gardens grow out of piles of dust. I’ll never forget spending summers with him in his garden, this little pocket of Eden 20x40ft amid the hustle and bustle of Boston. And, like all good Sicilians, he had no patience. I had a strict upbringing (compared to most Americans), my father had a harshly strict upbringing, but it all pales to the childhood my grandfather had. His older brother was crucified (mean that literally, not as a metaphor, literally tied to an x-shaped cross) in the front lawn of their home by their father for being disobedient. Anthony was a pack rat, kept everything; he was a tinkerer, he built so many parts of his own home. My Grandfather was a strong willed and fascinating man, I only wish I could have known him better.

I was able to give him one gift, my son was the first of the next generation in our family tree, and I introduced Achilles to Anthony when we visited my hometown of Boston in 2009.

This May when I run the Half Pig, I can only hope that I will be able to channel my Grandfather’s stubbornness and will power.
Post Scriptum: Please excuse any weakly phrased sentences, I rushed this post out, simply because I wanted to type it out while it was still fresh.

Weekend Update 2-26-12

Miles this past week: 9 (big step down from the goal mileage)

Beer drinking goals: fail, I missed my tiny window for Hofbrau Doppelbock, it’s only available during the month of February and it runs out by the third week

Oh, yeah, that knee thing. In last Sunday’s post I mentioned that my knee was a little pissy, so I had skipped last week’s Long Run. I also, to be safe, skipped out on Monday’s run. Which kept me home for almost the entirety of the 3 day weekend (I dropped my wife off at work Sunday night simply so we could go out to breakfast the next morning) which was great. Saw my daughter Cassandra “almost” roll over (5mos) and watched Star Wars Clone Wars with my son (3yo) before he and I spent a few hours protect Cassandra from imaginary dinosaurs with our Thundercat Sword and Lightsaber.

Ultimately, playing it safe left me with an Easy run on Thursday for 3ish, and a short short Long run on Saturday for 6. The knee felt okay. There was a little tenderness and soreness, but my right knee ended up hurting even more (compensation). This next week I plan on doing my regular plan mileage wise, but replacing the Pace and Speed runs with Easy runs.

Fun stuff aside. I’ve noticed a strange correlation in my health/training. When I pull back the numbers on my running I see my unhealthy habits go up. See Diagram (A: Weekly Miles, B: Crap Food)

It’s as if I replace my runs with binge eating. Then all my work and efforts towards my training goals takes not just 1 step back due to lack of training, but a 2nd step back due to the crap food. Not to get too psychoanalytical, but I’m certain that since I’ve been more serious about my running, it has become my main stress reliever (in place of Scotch). And when I can’t run I stress eat.

Anybody out there (in the vast sea of my followers) have any advice on how to deal with a situation like this.

End of Year Review

So 2011 has just ended and it’s time to review the year. Overall, my year has been a good one (running wise).

• I’ve drastically improved my form.
• I’ve improved my 5k race time.
• I’ve ran in a race longer than 10k (Hudy 14k).
• I’ve made several double digit runs (pre-PF my longest run was 3.6mi).
• I’m more efficient in my trackwork.
• I remained (kinda) diligent in my runs, with the exception of when hurt myself, and then when I fell off the wagon after my daughter was born (good reason).
• I’ve amassed a decent amount of running gear.
• I’ve put in good ground work to reach my goal of racing a total of 50 kilometers by the time I’m 30 (six months from today).
• I’ve picked up on some of the nuances of running:
• --Know when to show up for a race
• --Know where to line up in the chute
• --Know to stash water on long runs
• --Know what to wear in what weather
• --Know to stretch and warm up
• --And so on
• I’ve run a total of 356 miles.
• And on top of it, I’ve had a lot of fun.

Outside of running my year has been good as well.

• I’ve graduated a class of excellent students.
• I’ve helped direct the school’s musical.
• I’ve had a great time with my wife and son (he and I had a blast this summer).
• I’ve potty-trained my son (for those parents out there, you know how big a deal that can be).
• I’ve made some new friends.
• And most importantly, I got to welcome my daughter into the world.

As big of a year that 2011 was for my running growth, I suspect 2012 will be even bigger. Despite the leaps and bounds of the past year, I still see it as ground work for a much larger plan. I have many goals for this year, some are carryovers from years past (as denoted by an *), and some are completely new.

• I will run the Flying Pig Half Marathon on May 6th.
• I will run the U.S. Air Force Marathon on Sept 15th.
• I will finish my goal of 50k of races run (I’m at 49k) before my 30th birthday.
• I will get my weight down to 215.*
• But an important part of the weight-loss is to do so while maintaining my muscle mass (I really don’t want to shrink).
• I will do more of my running in the morning (which means waking up when the alarm goes off).
• I will eat more healthily.
• I will help my wife get into running.
• I will improve my swimming technique.

I have a lot of big goals, but none of them are too lofty (except the waking up when my alarm goes off). But that’s common; I’ve always had high expectations, of myself and those around me. To help me track all of this work, I wrote an extensive training log on an excel-like Google doc (it's got a 5 star rating from 74 users...just saying). Any of you are welcome to use it, and if you have trouble with it, or need it modified, just contact me.

Those of you who take the time to follow this blog, thank you. And those of you who have sent comments and suggestions via e-mail thank you very much. And to you who has allowed me the time and money to focus on running (particularly those multi-hour long runs on Saturdays when you’d rather I stay home and do housework), thank you, and I love you.

Finding My Form and Losing My Breath

Before I begin, I can’t help but wonder if anyone clicked the link in my last post, titled “Hanes”. And I also have to wonder if anyone appreciated what he or she found. Perhaps I can set up a poll on this page addressing those questions, but I’m sure my laziness will prevent that from happening.

Upward and onward.

So this past Thursday I went for a run. Nothing new, I know. However, this run was different than most. First off, I was planning on running that morning with my sister (who I’ve been trying to get into running with me), but she bailed. Then my wife wanted to take our son to the park as I ran. Then on the ride out, we got a call from my friends to let us know that their (first) baby was on the way. So we then rushed to the hospital. We were there for most of the rest of the day, and I got to “bro support” my friend who has very little baby experience (much less baby girls). So after avoiding all of the fast food that was settled on by everyone else, we finally got out to the park at about 8pm. The park has a blacktopped 2mile loop that is very well maintained and very, very flat. I slipped into my shorts, laced up my Kinvaras, and handed my phone and keys to my wife. Taking off I noticed it was much cooler this time of day (I say day because it was still broad daylight out). I felt that I was moving at a pretty brisk pace (despite knowing that I planned on running 4miles), and was worried that I was going to burn out. Which has been my problem before running too fast at the beginning and having nothing left before the end. But I noticed that my legs felt great (even though they had been sore all day from my leg lift two days prior), and my form felt graceful.

Yes, I said graceful.

I have never felt graceful when running before (which doesn’t mean I didn’t look like a lumbering 3 legged bear, but we’re talking “feel” here). So I didn’t want to slow down. However my goal to run either “negative” or “even” splits had not changed, so when I passed my wife at the playground and she yelled out 17min, I knew that keeping an 8:30 pace for an additional 2 miles, when 4 miles is the longest distance I’ve ever ran at one time, was going to be difficult. But, for some reason, I didn’t feel tired. My legs weren’t burning up, my heart wasn’t pounding out of my chest, and my lungs didn’t feel like they were on the verge of implosion. Perhaps my new “gracefulness” was more efficient, and allowing me to run faster for longer, or perhaps it was partly that, coupled with the aforementioned cooler air and flat terrain. None-the-less, that run felt very empowering, in the middle of powerlifting no less. I’m looking forward to when I return running to priority one and push lifting back to second fiddle; I’m hoping this is a sign of big gains this summer.

I'm Not a Skinny Runner

As I’ve said before, I’m not a skinny guy in a big guy’s body. I am a heavyweight trying to run. And, as usual, I’ve done my duty. I’ve waken up early, I’ve suffered heat and humidity, I’ve scheduled around real life, and I’ve pushed when I didn’t want to. I have kept to my training and put in my miles. I have run 2 races (27:31 and 27:03) Though not as well as I’d like, but they’re done.

I planned on running another 5k this weekend (6/11/11, but we’ll talk about that later), one on July 4^th, and a smattering of 5ks until the Thanksgiving day 10k. This plan gives me a 3 week window between this weekend and the Edgewood Fourth of July race. As I promised myself, a few blog posts ago, I was going to use that time to get back into the weight room.

Because as much as I’ve accomplished in my running, I’ve lost so much in strength. This morning I weighed myself (226), checked my bodyfat percentage (17%, but the device might not be entirely accurate, it’s pretty cheap), and most importantly I dressed down to my Hanes and looked in the mirror (don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not that vain, this doesn’t happen very often). I wasn’t surprised with what I say, though I wasn’t entirely happy either. Well, for the past few weeks my pants were getting looser and I’m 2-3 holes deeper into my belt, which has felt great. Now that I was thoroughly examining my torso, my “feelings” were confirmed; I am significantly leaner, and my abs are growing more visible (yeah, I know: I’m awesome!). Then I looked a little farther south, the legs. As always, they were lean, tan (-er than most men), and hairy. However, my quadriceps did seem slightly smaller than usual, but don’t worry my calves are still freakishly large. Then I took a deep breath and looked up top…then I took a long sigh. My chest, shoulders, and arms have shrunk. Now, I won’t be misconstrued as a runner anytime soon, but I’m losing that bulk that has always been me. Even when I was down in weight for fights, I still had plenty of meat up top. Now, while my upper body may be leaner, my arms are down to 14.5inches (Update: turns out there is an inch of blank tape before the numbers start, so I'm only down to 15.5inches; which still is less than I am usually)! Not quite my style.

I know that on race day, I’m a middle to back of the pack kinda runner. Now while I’d like to change that to ‘frontal’ middle, I know that I’ll never be front-runner. And I’m fine with that, because I have (and plan on in the future) taken consolation in the fact that I’m one of the biggest guys at the finish line. Not the most muscular guy in the race, but usually one of the first heavyweights to cross the line. If I’m no longer that proud mix of muscles and speed, then I’m just some heavy guy running behind skinny guys. I will never be a skinny guy, and that’s fine, I don’t want to be a skinny guy. If nothing else my girth was a good excuse, but it’s not just that. I like being strong. So I have less than a month until the Edgewood 5k, which is where I plan on breaking my PR (26:00). I’m going to devote a good chunk of these next 2-3 weeks powerlifting. And even if I don’t return to my former size, I at least want most of my strength back.

Back to this weekend. The Redlegs 5k. I do still want to run this (if for no other reason, I want the Reds technical t-shirt), but I heard the weather is going to be stormy and I’d like to scrape it in favor of an early start on my weightlifting. It’s going to be difficult intermixing the powerlifting and the run training, and phasing from the emphasis on lifting to running halfway between here and Independence Day. Wish me luck in accomplishing both.

The Highs and Woes

Note: The first part of this post might sound redundant to the Dailymilers who follow this, but I can’t help but share

The Highs

I was in class yesterday morning (and this morning, as I write this) for certification in the city of Edgewood, KY. Many moons ago, back when I was in college. I used to work for the public works dept. in Edgewood. The majority of the work I did was grounds keeping. And Edgewood is beautiful (though not as beautiful as when I worked there, but whatever). Dudley road runs from one end of the city to the other, with subtle slopes throughout, with the killer hills at the ends (avoidable, unless you want them), well kept sidewalks, and intermittent shade. The really amazing thing about this town is how considerate the drivers are to runners. Often, I would reach an intersection slowing to a ‘run in place’ speed to wait for a car to pass, only to be waved on by the driver. As if saying, “why should you wait, you’re bettering yourself, I’m just driving. Go ahead.”

What’s funny is that all those years ago I was working in Edgewood, in the heat wondering why runners bothered to run. Today I completely understand. It was a gorgeous day and the run felt amazing, I probably could have run all day. I ran from the clock tower (it served as my timepiece, since I can’t wear a watch) in Presidents Park down Dudley with the intention of turning around once I reached Freedom Park. However, when I got there I just kept going. Not because a dog was chasing me, not because I was behind a good looking girl, but because my legs felt good and I was really enjoying myself. So I kept going until I reached Woodrun Court. Not knowing how far I’ve gone, or how long I was gone, I just felt it was time to turn around (probably because I was nearing the end of the road, i.e. the hill). Amazingly the run back felt even better, even though it was more uphill. I stopped when I returned to the clock tower reaching it I learned that I had ran for 37min, which was cool and all, but I had no idea how far I had run. I clocked it on my iPhone on the drive back and it registered a 1.81mi, which doubled is 3.6mi. Nice long easy run at a 10:00ish min/mile pace and not once did I have to stop to walk. Not bad considering it didn’t feel the least bit difficult.

I felt so free, no watch, no iPod, no ponytail. I recently decided to start running with my hair loose, and I couldn’t be happier (I grow my hair out for two years at a time to donate). So long as I move at a steady pace and don’t have a strong tailwind the hair stays out of my face, it’s at the perfect length. Now, I’m no Anton Krupicka, but I know the flapping hair caught some eyes at last week’s race. Not to mention I may have been the only runner in Edgewood without an iPod, and I seem to be the only runner on DM without a Garmin.

The Woes

Went home, showered, loaded an old bike my brother gave me into the bed of my truck and brought it to the local cycle shop. My goal was to have it tuned up and ride it for the duration of the summer, just to get an idea as to whether riding was for me. Then if I liked it, then maybe I’d be willing to shell out the cash for a decent entry level one next Spring.

When I got to the shop, the employee took a look at the bike and informed me that in order to straighten the rim, replace the tires, replace the brakes, retune the shifters, and so on, it would most definitely be better to buy a new bike. Now, I really don’t think that he was out to put down the bike simply to make a sale (because I had the same feeling before I even brought it in), but that doesn’t mean I like the answer. Oh well, so much for outdoor biking, looks like I’m stuck at the bike in the gym and swimming for my cross-training; at least for now that is.

The Problem With Packing It On

Late-April

Any rookie lifter can tell you “you can’t cut weight and powerlift at the same time.” And yet, I (and almost every other lifter out there at least once or twice) find myself breaking Rule #4 of lifting.

I’m trying to cut weight for running. Even a lean (which I’m not) 240lbs is a lot of pounds per inch on my feet and joints. So I decided that I could knock it down to 215-220lbs, near my old fighting weight. And for those of you out there who don’t think 25lbs is a lot of extra to run on, try running with 25lbs of gear on your back next time out.

But then something strange happened, just as I was starting the new diet and upping my activity I noticed something… I was making huge gains. And I had been making gains for a few months, but my squat was jumping 30-60lbs a week, I was starting to max out the machines.

Being the addict I am, I just couldn’t quit. After 3 weeks my clothes were looser in some places, yet I had trouble fitting into my suit jacket (which was fine because I looked enormous in the vest alone). However, my body was still taking a pounding every time I ran, because I had only lost 1.5lbs.

The meathead within told me that running can wait, and that I need to get bigger now. But the rational adult within realized that if I was going to take this running thing seriously (like I promised myself) then I would have to put lifting on the back burner until after I can make some serious running gains. (especially when my free time for workouts is limited). I have a pretty packed race schedule through mid-June. As of now I plan on focusing solely on running, then I have a 3.5 week hiatus before the Edgewood Fourth of July 5k Race. Last year I set my current PR at the Edgewood 5k, and this year I plan on breaking it there. So perhaps I’ll spend that first week of my hiatus on muscle building and just rest the legs.

None the less, it still sucks walking into the gym to run on the treadmill and/or cycle and/or swim and walking past all those weights. Hearing them call to me “Michael, Michael, come over here, lift us, get huge…”