And let’s scratch Napa while we’re at it…

I’m bagging the plans to run the Napa Marathon. It’s just way too close. Even if I am able to start training hard again on the roads in a few weeks, that only gives me about 11 weeks to train. I am wary of reinjuring myself — or extending healing of the current injury — by rushing things.

I’ve already flown all the way out to the West Coast to run two horrible marathons. If I do it a third time, then I am officially an idiot. I am also much more likely to give up.

Now I’m looking for an early-to-mid-April race that isn’t Boston. No race is going to be perfect in terms of course and conditions, so I’m going to stop looking for it. I’ll pick what looks like the best race available during that time period, train for the course, and hope for decent weather.

Noteworthy Blogs: Well, I’m TRYING to run…

The sometime commenter (and author of my highlighted quote over to the left), Cris/Darkwave, has started a blog. For now, it’s chronicling her journey as an injured runner. Seriously injured. Meaning no running at all. She’s an even more impressive pool runner than I, clocking runs of up to three hours in the pool.

I’ve come to know Cris virtually over the past year+ through a weekly training thread on LetsRun.com. I’ve never met her in person, but I hope to one day. Her blog offers her trademark intelligence, good humor and athletic determination. It’s also chock full of tips and observations on being an injured runner who’s relegated to running in water for the time being.

Check it out here: Well, I’m TRYING to run…

Fear the bike. Respect the bike.

Coach Sandra sent me a series of stationary bike workouts about a month ago that she says she got from Joan Benoit-Samuelson. Joanie used these back in the 1980s when she was just starting to establish her status as Patron Saint of Injured Marathoners. Now I’m trying to schedule an interview with Ms. Samuelson so I can 1) talk to her about how she trains today by comparison to back then and 2) actually share these workouts if she’ll give the okay.

I was given a free issue of Running Woman — or Women’s Running(?) — magazine. I can’t remember the name, but it was bland and featured an equally bland, heavily photo-retouched non-runner model on the cover with huge tits and it’s downstairs and I am upstairs and don’t feel like walking downstairs for reasons I’m getting to. In that issue was an article by Joanie about tempo runs. In it, she states exactly how to do the various runs. So I’m hoping she won’t have a problem with sharing these workouts with the world.

So, back to those workouts (and the reason I don’t want to go downstairs again today). I received three workouts. Two of them are what I could call reasonable. I was not worried about them, having done similar stuff on my own already. But the third one I was actually afraid to try. It takes about 96 minutes, 40 of which consist of the warm-up and cool-down. I’ll leave it at that.

I did the workout yesterday. The spin bikes at the gym only allow you to “program” an hour. So I had to do two 50 minute sessions, ending the second one 4 minutes early. A guy got on the bike next to me when I was 35 minutes into my first session, then looked mildly alarmed when I finished that one and sweatily punched in another 50 minutes. I could hear his thoughts: “Head case.” He left long before I was done. He probably thinks I’m still there.

It was hard, but not as bad as I thought it would be. At least not until today, 24 hours later. I did lower body weight work for an hour this morning. That was hard, but okay. Then I got into the pool to do a 45 minute session (this is now considered a short session for me, but we had a meeting with a client later on so I had to keep things brief). My plan was to do 15 minutes of half-pool length intervals (you “run” all out for about 30 seconds, then rest on the turns for about 10-15 seconds). I warmed up for 15 minutes and launched into my first interval. My legs were dead. I have started doing pool runs after weight work, so I don’t expect them to be peppy. But this was different. I could not do anything hard. I gave up and just ran easy for another 10 minutes and wrote off the workout.

That was one sneaky bike workout. It took 24 hours to show just what a pummeling it packed.

I will try again in the pool tomorrow morning. But I would not be surprised if I have trouble. My legs are still fatigued now, 36 hours later. I run again tomorrow afternoon, on grass, for 30 minutes. I’m sure I can manage that. I think.

In other news, Joe Garland is making a noble effort to revive the Ekiden in New York (his older post about that is here; old dreams die hard, it seems). I am trying to help, since for all my bitching about the More Marathon, I still love the idea of people racing multiple loops in the park. Just not 9,000 people. I think 150 or so is a good number.

I am also attempting to plan some good shows for the Runners Round Table podcast in the new year. My first planned show is a January 5 hour on eating disorders and exercise addiction. I’m no expert, but the people I’ve invited on are. I have other ideas for shows, but I want to see how they pan out in terms of getting good guests before I blather about them here.

A year ago…

A blogger I follow had a short post up last night that was a look back through key times in her running life. Unfortunately, the post has disappeared. Maybe I’m not the only one who “Ambien posts.”

I like the idea, though. So here’s my walk backward along my blog’s November garden stones:

A year ago, I was injured with a tendon problem on my foot. This was three weeks before the California International Marathon. That would turn out to be a dreadful race, one that made me rethink everything.

Two years ago,  I hired my first coach. I was still on a post-race high from running 3:19 at Steamtown. I also had a cold.

Three years ago, I won my first age group award. This race was the culmination of many months of base training as I prepared to do my first proper marathon training cycle for a spring 2008 race (the More Marathon, in which I would easily qualify for Boston).

Four year ago, I was racing lots of local Turkey Trots. My race pace for a flat 5 miler was about 8:00. This blog was about six months old at that time. I was still fat and slow. But I was determined to improve. Four years on, I still am.

Injury Shminjury. Let’s get going.

Naturally, now that I’ve found a doctor who I need to pay upwards of $200 per visit to…and I’ve had an MRI…my injury has receded rapidly. Once the ass and hip pain subsided in mid-to-late September, it was replaced with chronic adductor pain. That was enough to keep me from running (along with fear of a stress fracture) up until now.

I ran for 20 minutes around a baseball/soccer field on Sunday. I had bad adductor pain all morning and while walking there. But I figured it had been 12 weeks. Even if I did or do have a stress fracture, I’d served my requisite time off. And if it wasn’t — meaning it was a strain or a tear — I probably couldn’t do much more damage by trying. The typical idiot runner logic.

The pain did not get worse during or after the run. And, aside from a lot of leg soreness yesterday (much of which I attribute to a very hard pool run on Friday and heavy duty weight work on Saturday), there was no obvious fallout from that run. In fact, the adductor felt almost good today. I overnighted my MRI images to new Dr. to read today. I go see him for a diagnosis on Thursday morning. I’ll tell him that I ran and see what he says.

I will say that running felt very weird. It’s been 12 weeks. I haven’t taken more than a week off (before this, obviously) since 2006. I was aerobically fit and wanted to run faster. But it was difficult from a muscular standpoint. It was like starting all over again in that regard. I was not ready for that sensation and it was kind of a blow mentally. I won’t be able to just go out and run 10 miles again immediately. I’ll need to build up. I also know that every twinge will make me nervous.

But, hey, at least I ran for 20 minutes (18:34, actually). I haven’t lost sight of that. It makes me happy to know I can get back to it soon. I should add that Jonathan ran with me and had no pain in his foot. I think he’s going to be training hard before I am.

I ran about 90 seconds less than he did because at one point I ran up a hill. I wanted to try running down it to see if the glute pain would return. Walking downhill was excruciating right after my injury occurred, so I thought a run downhill would be the real test. While I was at the top, I met a friendly black cat. It was Hallowe’en. The cat crossed my path, but then came back to say hello. Nice kitty. The run downhill that followed was fine. Thanks, kitty.

I will be switching my Houston registration in January to the half marathon. I don’t want to try to run a marathon on 8-10 weeks training. But that is enough time to get ready for a good half marathon. I’ve got the plane tickets and the room reserved, and we got work through the end of the year that I wasn’t expecting, so we’ll enjoy it and not think about the fact that we’re spending a shit-tonne of money to fly to Texas to run 13.1 miles.

Assuming I am training again without injury soon, the plan is to train properly for a good race at the Napa Marathon in early March. Houston is five weeks before that. It’s not ideal timing, but after the last three months, I’m not looking for “ideal” anymore.

Epiphany? Or a big steaming pile of obvious?

Today I was thinking about the cross-training session I did yesterday. It was two hours in the pool at a steady effort equal to a general aerobic run (75-82%), but with a very tough 20 minutes of short intervals/short recoveries toward the end. At the 45 minute mark I seriously flagged in energy and attitude. I thought, “I don’t know if I can keep up this effort for another 1:15.”

Around that time Coach Sandra appeared, quite unexpectedly, and, as she often does, cheerfully suggested that I make things harder. In this case, by throwing in 20 minutes of very hard running. I couldn’t say no without looking like a slouch. So I did the intervals when she said to do them, even though she was on her way out when it was time to start. Still, I did them as if she was there. Meaning I did them as hard as I could. Somewhere, I found the physical energy to do them. But, perhaps more surprisingly, I found the mental will to do them too.

Therein lies the epiphany that took me about 30 hours to have. The cross-training sessions are hard. I tend to come away with them focused on how hard they are physically. Yesterday, even as I rested on a bench afterwards — patiently waiting for my heart to stop going “Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!” — I felt the mental effort. Not just the mental effort required for that particular session. No, it’s the cumulative nature of cross-training that hit me. Unlike running outside, there is no sensual pleasure in cross-training in the gym. I bear with it by telling myself this is an investment that will pay off. But it’s like throwing money in the bank rather than frittering it away on fun stuff from day to day. It’s hard to do. But it adds up over time and you’ve got something you can use. You skipped the new shoes and now…now you can go to Switzerland for two weeks.

This is a sloppy post. Here’s my point: all this cross-training isn’t really physical training. It is. But that’s incidental. This is, at its core, mental training. It’s the best mental training I’ve done. I have had to find my own gratification in this work, to have faith and to maintain my optimism; otherwise it’s all just suffering. But, mostly, the fact that I can do this day after day, indefinitely, is proving to me that I care a whole lot about becoming a better runner.

Training: Oct 10-23

The grind continues. Today marks 11 weeks since someone or something gave my running the stinkeye.

I continue to train hard using alternate methods. To break up the monotony, and make sure I’m working hard enough, I’ve started getting creative with cross-training:

Spinning: I naturally tend to work harder in a spin class than when I’m on my own. Unfortunately, my schedule does not always mesh with the gym’s, so I’m doing a lot of spinning on my own these days. I focus on getting my heart rate up, evidenced by a) a high heart rate and b) getting myself to sweat like a pig. I achieve this with lots of standing up while pedaling alternated with 2 minutes of pedaling like I’m being chased by a mob of zombies — the fast kind, not the slow kind.

Elliptical: You can do speedwork on the elliptical. You can also do hillwork, but I’ve been told to stay away from doing that because it could aggravate whatever my injury is — plus the focus for us distance runners is high turnover, strength and endurance, not being able to do the equivalent of running up stairs carrying a dishwasher. So I do surges here too, getting my reps up to 210 (and making sure I’m pouring off sweat) for 2-3 mins with 1 min recoveries. In the case of both spinning and elliptical, I note the days I’m doing intervals with a plus sign.

Weights: I have yet to have found a way to make this work creative. Although I do enjoy the fact that I’m usually the only woman in the weights area. I feel so special. Let’s move on.

Pool: I’m beginning to not mind the pool so much. For one, I’ve developed some mind games to play. But when I’ve got an entire lane to myself for upwards of an hour and a half, there are no distractions and the act of running in circles becomes meditative. Pool running is the priority among all these gym activities, so it’s where I work the hardest. I tend to “save my strength” for the pool — meaning I am conscious of not trashing my legs in whatever I’m doing before I hit the pool for a hard session, meaning anything harder than an hour’s steady effort of 72-75%. What are hard sessions? Right now it means three things: long run (80-90 mins at 75%+), fartlek session (around 18-25 minutes of short and long intervals with very short recoveries), progression run (I start at 65% and work up to 85% in 10 minute increments). Once I’m back to regular running training, I’ll still be hitting the pool 3x a week as well as doing 3 sessions of spinning and frequent weight work.

I met up with Sandra a couple days this week at the gym. She was doing a little training, but as she’s dealing with a knee problem, couldn’t do everything with me. Still, she hadn’t seen me at work in a few weeks and she seemed surprised at the effort I was putting into it. I also sent her my training log and her reaction was that I’m probably training a lot harder than I was when I was “just running.” She swears I’ll be faster when I hit the roads again as a result of this conditioning work. I hope she’s right. At least I’m getting a nice pair of legs out of the deal.

So, where do things stand right now? An MRI should provide some clues this week. If it’s a stress fracture then I guess I’m sidelined according to how serious it is. I would be very surprised if it needs surgery, but what do I know? The other possibility to be ruled out is a hamstring tear. I have not looked into what that involves because I’ve already wasted so much time Googling injury-related information. I can’t do it anymore. I’m sincerely hoping it’s merely inflammation in the joint that can be treated fairly quickly so I’m back on the road next month.

As for training and racing plans, there will probably be adjustments. In the training realm, one piece of news is that Sandra and Khalid are moving to Colorado Springs next month to pursue some opportunities she has out there, live at altitude and leave the high cost of living in New York State (and horrible weather) behind. It’s also a quicker trip to Mexico, where they spend a fair amount of time every year.

I knew when I started working with Sandra in July that this was their plan, but now it’s really happening, which has not been easy to accept. I got a mere month of road/track training in before I got injured. So that’s been a source of disappointment. But I have to acknowledge that I learned a lot about training in that month — and in the “injury months” since then in terms of how to apply cross-training (both while injured and as a supplement to regular training). Sandra and I communicate well, so I’m feeling confident that we can keep up the good work using the various modern tools at our disposal — Skype, Google docs and email. I was also encouraged to discover that the majority of the Houston Hopefuls are successfully working remotely with their coaches.

As for racing, I have no idea whether I’m going to Houston in January. If I can start marathon training in, say, two weeks, it’s probably enough time — around 12 weeks — to get me in shape to run a good marathon, if not a great one. If it’s a longer wait, another option is to train for and race the Houston half instead. I love the half and working toward a PR there would be a good stepping stone to returning to the marathon, so that’s a compromise I could live with. And if I’m completely screwed for a January race, one idea I’ve proposed is switching my plane ticket and targeting the Napa marathon in early March.

Nearer term, I would love to race something, anything, as soon as possible. Watching the Fifth Avenue Mile last month — not just watching, but limping around as a volunteer — was enormously depressing for me, as will be watching the New York Marathon next month. I don’t want to get greedy and demand a race when I should feel lucky to be able to run anywhere for any distance, which I still can’t. But I’ve appreciated in the past couple of months that, while I enjoy training, the racing is what the training’s all for. I have it my head to try to run the Joe Kleinerman 10K in Central Park in early December. It’s a carrot to chase after mentally. But, ultimately, my body’s going to be the one calling the shots.

At least I’m not living alone in Injury Land. And I have a reliable cross-training partner most days, although he recently had to drop out for a bit while battling an infection. Anyway, here’s yesterday’s quote of the day, triggered by the arrival in our mailbox of an entry form for the Marisa Fund 5 Mile Turkey Trot.

“It’s amazing to think that just five months ago, I won their 10K on that course. And now I couldn’t even win a snail street-crossing contest.”
— Jonathan Sumpter

Alphabet soup

Well, since I can’t seem to get to sleep despite 3mg of Zolpidem Tartrate, I will post something.

I’ll post about a new game I play in the pool. I call it the Alphabet Soup Game. I “run” in a 25m pool, about half of which I can cover without my feel touching the bottom. So I am basically running in loops in a 6 ft wide lane for about 12m each way. It takes me around 60-75 seconds to complete a loop.

Time passes slowly in the pool. Very slowly. And lately I’ve found that wearing an MP3 player hampers my ability to keep up a steady effort. It’s a complete pace-killer for intervals/fartleks, just like on the track. Running hard in the pool is like running hard anywhere else —  it takes concentration and focus. So I’ve set aside the music and podcasts and now run in silence.

I have found with some experimentation that there remain some ways in which I can occupy my mind without slacking off on effort. One of them is a game whereby, on each loop, I choose the next letter of the alphabet and think of all the words I can during that loop, then move onto the next one with loop 2 being sponsored by the letter B, etc.

I also play this game when I’m trying to get to sleep — when counting backwards from 999 has not worked — and the same thing happens in the pool as it does in bed: I start off with a mundane, obvious children’s grammar book entry, such as “A is for apple” — and then immediately launch into some of the most obnoxious, obscure words. Words I’d forgotten I ever knew. I mean, I guess I’m happy that I have a decent vocabulary. But why am I coming up with words like “estoppel” and “egregiously” when “egg” would do perfectly well? I slip into themes too, where I’ll go on a psychological/brain journey and hop my way along related tangential words like they’re river rocks (“agoraphobia,” “amygdala,” and my favorite: “aquaphobia” — a fear of water found in the final stages of rabies. And in the early stages of pool running).

My standard pool run time is now 60+ minutes. After the warmup I can usually get through this word game at least twice, sometimes three times. 90 has been my biggest water run so far, and I did that one with music to reduce the shock. But on Sunday I’m doing a 2 hour run at steady ~75% effort, basically to simulate a long run. No MP3s. My vocabulary and capacity for free association will get a big workout then.

I’m becoming more efficient in the pool (meaning I cover more “ground” and I have had to increase my flail pace to get my HR up. I’m also adjusting the spin bike and elliptical machines to higher resistance settings these days since I’m much fitter on them than I was a month ago. Will this all pay off? I think it kind of has to, if one assumes that, at the very least, the aerobic conditioning will be applicable to running. I was also informed by Jonathan, in for him what was an uncharacteristically enthusiastic reaction (“Hang on — flex those again!”) that my shoulders, back (lats, especially) and triceps are making a statement when I enter a room. Some of that’s the upper body weight work. But I think most of it’s the pool running.

The visit to the new orthopedist went well yesterday, insofar as I was listened to quite carefully and the response was positive: “If it’s w, we’ll do x. If it’s y, we’ll do z.” The big surprise is that he takes my insurance, which I’d figured he wouldn’t. I’m so used to getting shafted by our insurance company and loathed by practictioners who grumpily accept it.

The MRI is next week. More news as it comes in. I’m sending Jonathan in to see ortho guy Tuesday since I figure he may as well get to work on fixing both of us.

I am hoping our diagnoses and recoveries will be easy as A, B, C. I don’t even care if they are painful and expensive. I just want them to work.

Uh oh. Can’t see straight. It’s time to make my way to my favorite horizontal space and start counting backwards…

Houston Hopefuls on Runners Round Table…

Whee! That was fun. Listen up! (Link to MP3 is at page bottom.)

The Runners Round Table: Episode 103 – Houston Hopefuls

A few minutes with Morgan Uceny

Morgan Uceny, 25, runs the 1500 and 800 and trains with Terrence Mahon’s group in Mammoth Lakes, CA. A former basketball player (she’s pretty tall, even sitting down), she went on to place fourth in the 1500 and sixth in the 800 at the the 2008 Olympic Trials. This year she won the USA Indoor Championships with a 4:19.46, among other distinctions. Her personal bests are 4:02.10 and 1:58.67. If 2008 was the breakout year for American women in the 1500, then 2010 has been the year for American women to make big gains in the 800. Uceny has been among those leading the charge.

What do you think of the Caster Semenya controversy?
It’s obviously a tough question. I don’t think there’s a right answer for that. It’s just a really tough situation. I think there’s some unfairness in the playing field. I haven’t ever seen anyone make the progression that she has. So it just seems like something else is going on that’s unfair for the rest of the playing field. No one knows what’s going on. There’s no information, so that just makes it more frustrating for the everybody involved.

How do you deal with the stress of traveling to all those races on the European circuit — things like logistics, jet lag, nutrition — how do you keep all that from impacting your performance?
Some people are terrible with traveling. I happen to be lucky. I don’t get jetlagged; I can adapt to the new timezone overnight. It doesn’t really stress me out. Now I’m usually traveling with my coach or also with my teammates. That really helps alleviate the stress, because I’m with a group — if you don’t really know where you’re going, someone else does. So it’s really not that bad anymore.

Do you get a chance to enjoy the places that your visiting, or are you just flying through them and running and that’s it?
Switzerland’s one of my favorite countries. But when we were in Zurich we were near the airport and didn’t really have a way to get into town. So I didn’t really get to see anything, which was frustrating. But in other places I’ve had a couple days where I could take a day trip. I was in Italy two years ago and went to Venice for the day. So, it’s better in some places than others. But I think you do need to make an effort to get out of the hotel and see what’s around you. That just makes you enjoy the experience that much more.

In the past few years it seems like the paces set for the the Grand Prix races have been set up to be very fast. Was that the case again this year?
Yes, it’s still the case. I had maybe one unpaced race at Gateshead, the 1500. And, honestly, it’s great to get out there and know that you’re going to have a fast pace. So it’s a good opportunity to run fast. But I think our sport is relying too much on pacers these days. I think we need to have more races without pacers. It’s more exciting when you just have a race. It’s not just people lined up, trying to run a certain time.

Is European racing as rough and tumble as they say it is?
Yes and no. If you look at the American runners, people are aggressive. But it is different in Europe. People will be, like, pushing your hip. Or there’s all this jockeying going on.

Sometimes it looks like the American runners are just trying to stay out of the way, whereas the European and African runners seem to be, as you say, almost trying to guide people. I imagine it’s kind of a shock the first time you experience it.
Right. When you get into those races you can kind of tell who’s in control. It’s kind of distracting, though, meaning it takes your mind off the pain. You’re watching your space and making sure someone’s not trying to cut you off. It’s kind of like a game when you’re out there.

Do you think that to race middle distances you have to have an exceptionally high pain threshold? It’s an unusual level of pain compared to something like the marathon.
But, see, with the marathon — that’s pain for a long time. The 1500 is even different from running the 800. It’s painful, but you’re running the first couple laps and thinking, “Oh, this is okay.” Then it starts slowly creeping in, the lactic acid. By the end, it’s really painful. It’s a little different for each event. But our workouts are usually harder, so you’re callousing yourself to those pain levels. It’s always painful, but at the end of the day it’s worth it when you have a good performance.

What do you do for fun?
Living in Mammoth Lakes, CA — it’s one of these beautiful outdoor towns. We’ll go on little hikes, or fishing or paddleboating. Or maybe we’ll just all sit around and play board games or card games. It’s sort of like we’re all living senior citizen lifestyles sometimes. “We’re gonna play Uno tonight? I’m so excited!” Alistair Cragg and I got a 5,000 piece jigsaw puzzle and we thought, “This is going to take us so long. It’ll be great to have something to distract us…” And it was done in four days.

What you do then is flip the puzzle over and do it upside down.
[Laughs and looks incredulous]

Have you ever tried snowshoe running?
I haven’t.

It’s really hard.
It’s like walking, right?

Yes. I respect snowshoe racers.
[Looks incredulous again] They race?

Yeah. It’s really big in New Hampshire.
I feel like your hip flexors would be so stressed. What distances to they do? All distances?

The national championships are usually 10K and 5K.
Have you done it?

I ran in snowshoes a couple of times and it wasn’t for me.
Just enough to earn their respect. Anyone who does that…

I already feel slow enough. I didn’t need that.
[Laughs]