(I originally wrote this over 1 week ago, but didn't have time to finish it. In light of yesterday's column, I'm putting it in today.)
I think I used to run fairly fast. I'm not sure how to define "fairly fast, though." But it sure isn't what I do now. And compared to how I ran in high school, at least for short distances, even when I was fairly fast, I was slow. Let's think about this:
In high school 200 repeats in :28 were easy. I remember doing a pre-race workout of 8 x 200's in :28 with jogs across the grass to recover and it was like a day off. Now, I don't think I could run a :28 all out. 2:40 800 repeats were also fairly easy.
When I was in college I remember running an 800 in 2:26. I was working hard but this was during a workout. Years later, I ran a 2:2x during a meet. I also ran a 4:4x 1500 during that meet. And somewhere in there were a few 5:02 miles. I don't think I ever broke 5:00 in a mile though.
When I moved up in distance, I remember running a 16:30 5K during a duathlon, and several open 16:5x's. Even as recently as 1998, I think, I ran a 17:00 5K at a race in Auburn. My PR for a 10K was 34:30 at the Super Bowl 10K in Tucson in early 1993 (I think). I remember running it in a brand new pair of racing flats, which I took out of the box that morning. I also remember tripping over a traffic cone and falling about halfway through the run. My PR for 8K/5 miles was set during the 1994 Army Ten-Miler when I went through in 27:30. I finished the race in 56:40 and was 101st out of around 10,000 (couldn't crack the top 100!). And my half-marathon PR is 1:20:xx. All of those were set in 1993-1994. And then I started running marathons...
I always said that I wouldn't run a marathon unless I could run 2:50. I figured that anything slower than that was just a slog. How naive I was! When I ran my first marathon, I was in 2:50 shape. I went through the first 18 miles at 2:50 pace and was comfortable. Unfortunately, I then got tired. Having never raced that far before, I faded badly, finishing in 3:05:59. And it has been all downhill since then.
Today, I ran 2 x 1 mile at 6:47 and 6:41. It's not fast, but I wasn't going all out, so I'm satisfied with how it went. It's still a far cry from my past, but since it's February, I'm hoping that things will get better (faster) by and by.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Operator error
We have wonderful high-tech gadgets that improve our abilities to train smarter and more efficiently. Of course, all of that is dependent on whether we actually use them correctly. Sometimes that's the most difficult thing.
Last Thursday, I was supposed to swim a set of 5 x 200 with each 200 a bit different from the previous: #1 was IM drill; #2 was breast 100 fast, 100 easy; #3 was free DPS; #4 was back focusing on kick; and #5 was 200 IM fast. For the last one, Ashley said that she was going to time me. Since she didn't have an hour-glass, I assumed that she would be using her stopwatch. She even mentioned that she would start her watch when my feet left the wall. So, off I went, going as fast as I could. When I finally touched the wall for the final time and looked up, Ashley was talking to some of the kids. I had a sinking feeling about this. She then wandered over to me and apologized that she never started her watch. Oh well. I know slow... and my 200 IM was just that.
On Sunday, I was supposed to run 3 x 1 mile at Z4, which for me is currently 7:12. The first thing I realized when I figured out my paces was that my current threshold pace is slower than I used to do my JRA runs back when I was in college. Of course, that was many moons and miles ago. Anyway, when I got through with my warm-up, I pushed the "Start" button on my watch. Now, if you have a Garmin 310, you know that the "Start/Stop" button is different from the "Lap" button. And since I had already started my watch for my warm up, I should have pushed the "Lap" button. I had looked down at my watch just before I started the interval, and it was at 1.65 miles; after a time and distance that I thought was a lot longer than 0.35 miles (when the watch should have beeped and vibrated), I realized that I had stopped my watch rather than started the 2nd lap. The wind was out of my sails, and I slowed to a jog, knowing that I had not run a mile, but figured I should just regroup and press onward. My next two intervals were 6:58 and 6:54 if you believe Garmin Connect. If you believe WKO+/TP, they were 7:13 and 7:24. Since my RPE was closer to the 6:5x pace, I'm using those numbers.
Also on Sunday, I tried out the Saucony Kinvaras for the first time. While they didn't feel bad and were definitely light, they still don't feel as responsive as the Newtons. Try as I might to find shoes that feel as responsive as the Newtons, I have not been able to do so. It's interesting. I was ready to have a bouncy run on Sunday in new shoes, and it didn't happen. I am now convinced more than ever that Newtons just feel different from other shoes... in a good way.
Last Thursday, I was supposed to swim a set of 5 x 200 with each 200 a bit different from the previous: #1 was IM drill; #2 was breast 100 fast, 100 easy; #3 was free DPS; #4 was back focusing on kick; and #5 was 200 IM fast. For the last one, Ashley said that she was going to time me. Since she didn't have an hour-glass, I assumed that she would be using her stopwatch. She even mentioned that she would start her watch when my feet left the wall. So, off I went, going as fast as I could. When I finally touched the wall for the final time and looked up, Ashley was talking to some of the kids. I had a sinking feeling about this. She then wandered over to me and apologized that she never started her watch. Oh well. I know slow... and my 200 IM was just that.
On Sunday, I was supposed to run 3 x 1 mile at Z4, which for me is currently 7:12. The first thing I realized when I figured out my paces was that my current threshold pace is slower than I used to do my JRA runs back when I was in college. Of course, that was many moons and miles ago. Anyway, when I got through with my warm-up, I pushed the "Start" button on my watch. Now, if you have a Garmin 310, you know that the "Start/Stop" button is different from the "Lap" button. And since I had already started my watch for my warm up, I should have pushed the "Lap" button. I had looked down at my watch just before I started the interval, and it was at 1.65 miles; after a time and distance that I thought was a lot longer than 0.35 miles (when the watch should have beeped and vibrated), I realized that I had stopped my watch rather than started the 2nd lap. The wind was out of my sails, and I slowed to a jog, knowing that I had not run a mile, but figured I should just regroup and press onward. My next two intervals were 6:58 and 6:54 if you believe Garmin Connect. If you believe WKO+/TP, they were 7:13 and 7:24. Since my RPE was closer to the 6:5x pace, I'm using those numbers.
Also on Sunday, I tried out the Saucony Kinvaras for the first time. While they didn't feel bad and were definitely light, they still don't feel as responsive as the Newtons. Try as I might to find shoes that feel as responsive as the Newtons, I have not been able to do so. It's interesting. I was ready to have a bouncy run on Sunday in new shoes, and it didn't happen. I am now convinced more than ever that Newtons just feel different from other shoes... in a good way.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Oooph!
I went to the gym yesterday and started lifting again. And I'm sore today. It has been quite a while since I've lifted. For a number of years, I was very regular with lifting weights, typically twice/week, except after the end of the season for about a month. I figured that lifting weights would help to keep up my muscle mass, since I'm not exactly built like a power lifter, and lose muscle mass quickly. For about 8-9 years, I utilized the same lifting program, which was in Joe Friel's "Triathlete's Training Bible." I certainly got a lot stronger, and my bike strength was very high. Several years ago, I decided to change my lifting to more of a circuit, lifting either 1-2 sets but doing a lot of different exercises, following the Mark Allen plan. While it did give me a more balanced routine, it didn't work an individual group of muscles quite as hard. And then I stopped lifting completely, relying more on the swimming/biking/running to keep me strong. After I broke my clavicle, I restarted the Mark Allen program on and off (but more off than on), and periodically did a workout with pullups, pushups and crunches. To be honest, part of the reason I stopped lifting was also the convenience. When Keeler gym (across the street from the hospital) closed, I lost a very convenient, never crowded place to lift.
Having gradually gotten away from the lifting, I decided to restart. Since the TTB plan made me feel a lot stronger than I did with the MA program, I went back to it. And after much delay, yesterday was the first day. The first thing I noticed was how out of place I felt in the gym. I went to Wilson gym on North Fort, and it was busy. A lot of large individuals lifting a lot of weight. And there were women in there throwing weights around, too. I used to feel at home in the gym, but now, my weak, endurance athlete's body was conspicuous. However, I managed to find the weights I needed and do the lifting that I planned to do. 3 sets of 20 seemed a lot harder than I remembered.
This morning, I awoke to some muscle soreness that I haven't had in awhile. It's a good soreness and tightness, since it reminds me that I did some work yesterday. It will be interesting to see what happens when I try to swim today.
Having gradually gotten away from the lifting, I decided to restart. Since the TTB plan made me feel a lot stronger than I did with the MA program, I went back to it. And after much delay, yesterday was the first day. The first thing I noticed was how out of place I felt in the gym. I went to Wilson gym on North Fort, and it was busy. A lot of large individuals lifting a lot of weight. And there were women in there throwing weights around, too. I used to feel at home in the gym, but now, my weak, endurance athlete's body was conspicuous. However, I managed to find the weights I needed and do the lifting that I planned to do. 3 sets of 20 seemed a lot harder than I remembered.
This morning, I awoke to some muscle soreness that I haven't had in awhile. It's a good soreness and tightness, since it reminds me that I did some work yesterday. It will be interesting to see what happens when I try to swim today.
Friday, January 25, 2013
10,000 hours
It has been said that 10,000 hours are required to become an expert. In anything. I calculated this out: if you practice something 1 hour/day, it would take 27 years to reach 10,000 hours... assuming that's 1 hour/day every single day for 27 years. Of course, if you practice 3 hours/day, that's only 9 years. Still, that's pretty daunting considering that would be 3 hours daily for 365 days/year for 9 years.
Why do I bring this up? When I was growing up, I started playing the piano at age 6. I took lessons until I was 18. At that point, the growth in my piano skills stopped. Most people consider me pretty proficient in piano. And I can sight-read relatively well, which means I can fake my way through a lot of things. But I'm nowhere near 10,000 hours, probably closer to 60-70% of that.
I've been told that I'm a pretty good cyclist. In years past, I was better, but I no longer put the time in that I did previously. Again, nowhere near 10,000 hours. Same with running. At one point in time in my distant past, I was a decent amateur runner. Even at my peak, though, I was nowhere close to 10,000 hours. Now, I'm closer to that number than when I was decent, and I'm a whole lot slower than I was back then.
And now the reason that I mention this: swimming. 10,000 hours is a lot of time to put in to become an expert. I've been swimming relatively consistently for, say 17 years, but the amount of time is not even close to 10,000 hours. I keep reading about how you can get faster by swimming less, but of better quality, but the truth of the matter is, you need to put the time in. I watch my son's age group club swimmers and they don't worry that much about their technique; they just swim. And they all get faster. For most of them, they've got a long ways to go to get to 10,000 hours, and they can't give describe to you how to swim faster, but they just do. So, the idea that less can be more to me is, frankly, ridiculous.
There are sayings that basically describe this: time in the water, time in the saddle, time on your feet. 10,000 hours is a lot of time. But that's what it takes.
Why do I bring this up? When I was growing up, I started playing the piano at age 6. I took lessons until I was 18. At that point, the growth in my piano skills stopped. Most people consider me pretty proficient in piano. And I can sight-read relatively well, which means I can fake my way through a lot of things. But I'm nowhere near 10,000 hours, probably closer to 60-70% of that.
I've been told that I'm a pretty good cyclist. In years past, I was better, but I no longer put the time in that I did previously. Again, nowhere near 10,000 hours. Same with running. At one point in time in my distant past, I was a decent amateur runner. Even at my peak, though, I was nowhere close to 10,000 hours. Now, I'm closer to that number than when I was decent, and I'm a whole lot slower than I was back then.
And now the reason that I mention this: swimming. 10,000 hours is a lot of time to put in to become an expert. I've been swimming relatively consistently for, say 17 years, but the amount of time is not even close to 10,000 hours. I keep reading about how you can get faster by swimming less, but of better quality, but the truth of the matter is, you need to put the time in. I watch my son's age group club swimmers and they don't worry that much about their technique; they just swim. And they all get faster. For most of them, they've got a long ways to go to get to 10,000 hours, and they can't give describe to you how to swim faster, but they just do. So, the idea that less can be more to me is, frankly, ridiculous.
There are sayings that basically describe this: time in the water, time in the saddle, time on your feet. 10,000 hours is a lot of time. But that's what it takes.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
If you could cheat... would you?
Here's the thing: there is a right way and a wrong way to do things. It's black and white, and there are no shades of gray. If you cheat and you get away with it, are you as satisfied as if you hadn't cheated? Why am I mentioning this? Well, besides the obvious discussions that have been ongoing with the amount of doping (= cheating) in sports, there was recently a local development that was of interest to me.
There was a fellow triathlete that I was casually acquainted with who is now headed to prison for defrauding one of his clients. It was an amount that was pretty substantial, and allowed this triathlete to live pretty well for a few years. But he got caught. And now there has been some speculation that, if his morals allowed him to do this, how much of a stretch would it have been to his morals to use PED's to improve his athletic performance? Certainly, he was able to afford it. Obviously, in the big picture, this is a minor issue, but it does cause me to ask the bigger question: how many people cross the line? And is it worth it?
From minor offenses such as drafting, which may be accidental, to major, blatant cheating, there is a continuum of cheating. Certainly, in a drafting call where the person in front of you slows down and you are unable to get through the box in 15 seconds, I am less judgmental. Or, if you are on an open road, and a car (or semi) blows by you, there is an unavoidable draft that you are catching (the press truck in the early Ironman Hawaii races was legendary for providing a big draft to the race leader). Those, to me, are not major issues, and are often unintentional. I guess that's the tipping point for me: intention. If the attempt is to intentionally get an edge by skirting the rules, I don't have a lot of tolerance. Does that mean that I don't try to get every edge that I can? Absolutely not. Certainly, I'll try to do what I can to get the most out of myself and my equipment. But, I tend to base my decisions on intent, rather than the "letter of the law." For instance, blood doping wasn't illegal in 1984, but does anybody really think this was okay to do for the Olympics? And I've always found it somewhat amusing that Lance Armstrong has always said that he has have never tested positive for a banned substance, rather than that he has not taken any PED's. I guess I don't subscribe to the old adage, "If you ain't cheating, you ain't trying."
The funny thing is that even though a lot of endurance athletes make fun of a sport like golf, it is actually one of the sporting (IMO) of all sports. Golfers call penalties on themselves, even if nobody else has seen the violation. What other sport does that?
There was a fellow triathlete that I was casually acquainted with who is now headed to prison for defrauding one of his clients. It was an amount that was pretty substantial, and allowed this triathlete to live pretty well for a few years. But he got caught. And now there has been some speculation that, if his morals allowed him to do this, how much of a stretch would it have been to his morals to use PED's to improve his athletic performance? Certainly, he was able to afford it. Obviously, in the big picture, this is a minor issue, but it does cause me to ask the bigger question: how many people cross the line? And is it worth it?
From minor offenses such as drafting, which may be accidental, to major, blatant cheating, there is a continuum of cheating. Certainly, in a drafting call where the person in front of you slows down and you are unable to get through the box in 15 seconds, I am less judgmental. Or, if you are on an open road, and a car (or semi) blows by you, there is an unavoidable draft that you are catching (the press truck in the early Ironman Hawaii races was legendary for providing a big draft to the race leader). Those, to me, are not major issues, and are often unintentional. I guess that's the tipping point for me: intention. If the attempt is to intentionally get an edge by skirting the rules, I don't have a lot of tolerance. Does that mean that I don't try to get every edge that I can? Absolutely not. Certainly, I'll try to do what I can to get the most out of myself and my equipment. But, I tend to base my decisions on intent, rather than the "letter of the law." For instance, blood doping wasn't illegal in 1984, but does anybody really think this was okay to do for the Olympics? And I've always found it somewhat amusing that Lance Armstrong has always said that he has have never tested positive for a banned substance, rather than that he has not taken any PED's. I guess I don't subscribe to the old adage, "If you ain't cheating, you ain't trying."
The funny thing is that even though a lot of endurance athletes make fun of a sport like golf, it is actually one of the sporting (IMO) of all sports. Golfers call penalties on themselves, even if nobody else has seen the violation. What other sport does that?
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Beware the low-hanging fruit!
In the academic world, low-hanging fruit is a metaphor for the easiest targets to grab. Whether it's for grants, sturyding, or residencies, the low-hanging fruit is the stuff that we grab first before settling in for the longer tasks that are going to take more time. So, for example, when I grade papers, I will pick those that are the quickest to grade, so I can get feel like I've accomplished something.
Yesterday, I found out about the dangers of low-hanging fruit... literally.
It wasn't raining when I got home from work, and there was nobody home: no wifey, no kids, no dogs. I decided to go out for a run. Since it is now dark at 5:00 PM, I was going to wear something that could be seen by cars. I put on a black long-sleeved top. Okay, so not the best color choice, but I also put on a reflective belt, Nightlife gloves, and a headlamp. I used to think that the more reflective and bright clothing I wore, the more I was lighting myself up as a target for cars to aim at. But, since I was wearing a black shirt, I figured I needed a lot to be seen. My run was pretty uneventful for the first half. I saw a buck out on the road, and I think he was trying to decide if he needed to get out of the way for me. Whether it was me or the car that was approaching from the other direction, the buck decided to high-tail it for the other side of the road and safety beyond.
As I headed up Union for home, I decided to stay on the sidewalk. Now, if you are familiar with Steilacoom at all, there are places on Union where the sidewalk takes abrupt left and right jogs at seemingly random locations (although it probably has to do with trees in the planting strip). And, I haven't yet memorized those locations. So, one second I was running along the middle of the sidewalk, happily trotting along (it was a pretty good run), and the next second I was in the middle of the planting strip as the sidewalk had jogged left. And then... WHAM! Smacked right on the nose by an apple (the low-hanging fruit). Although it didn't hurt, the suddenness of getting whacked on the bridge of the nose by a solid, wet object in the dark was a bit startling. And since my headlamp beam is pointed at the ground so I can be on the lookout for things that I can step in or get tripped by, the apple was totally unexpected.
Since nothing was hurt, and all was well, it was good for a chuckle, though. And I realized that there was yet another danger to running in the dark!
Yesterday, I found out about the dangers of low-hanging fruit... literally.
It wasn't raining when I got home from work, and there was nobody home: no wifey, no kids, no dogs. I decided to go out for a run. Since it is now dark at 5:00 PM, I was going to wear something that could be seen by cars. I put on a black long-sleeved top. Okay, so not the best color choice, but I also put on a reflective belt, Nightlife gloves, and a headlamp. I used to think that the more reflective and bright clothing I wore, the more I was lighting myself up as a target for cars to aim at. But, since I was wearing a black shirt, I figured I needed a lot to be seen. My run was pretty uneventful for the first half. I saw a buck out on the road, and I think he was trying to decide if he needed to get out of the way for me. Whether it was me or the car that was approaching from the other direction, the buck decided to high-tail it for the other side of the road and safety beyond.
As I headed up Union for home, I decided to stay on the sidewalk. Now, if you are familiar with Steilacoom at all, there are places on Union where the sidewalk takes abrupt left and right jogs at seemingly random locations (although it probably has to do with trees in the planting strip). And, I haven't yet memorized those locations. So, one second I was running along the middle of the sidewalk, happily trotting along (it was a pretty good run), and the next second I was in the middle of the planting strip as the sidewalk had jogged left. And then... WHAM! Smacked right on the nose by an apple (the low-hanging fruit). Although it didn't hurt, the suddenness of getting whacked on the bridge of the nose by a solid, wet object in the dark was a bit startling. And since my headlamp beam is pointed at the ground so I can be on the lookout for things that I can step in or get tripped by, the apple was totally unexpected.
Since nothing was hurt, and all was well, it was good for a chuckle, though. And I realized that there was yet another danger to running in the dark!
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Don't get old if you can help it
It's Hell getting old. Maybe I should say "older," since, compared to most of my patients, I'm not really old. Some days, though, I definitely feel older than others. Take yesterday, for example. Following my plan of running less, but running faster, I headed out on the track for a ladder of 400, 600, 800, 1200, 800, 600, 400 all with a 400 RI. Because I was a bit busy in the morning, I didn't do this at Noon as I had planned, but ended up on the Steilacoom HS track at 5:00 PM in the dark. Which was okay. There were some benches and barriers on the track, but nothing that I would be running into, I hoped, even if it was pretty dark. It was nearly a full moon, but since the clouds were hiding it, there wasn't much light, except for the spotlight on the flag at the far end of the field. That, actually, looked pretty cool.
So, off I went on a 2 mile w/u. I was wearing my Newtons; I had thought about using racing flats, but hoped that I could still make the intervals easily wearing training flats. At the 1.5 mile mark, I did some 100 m strides, and didn't feel too bad. However, I did notice my left hip (more correctly, groin) was acting a bit unhappy. I had tweaked it during the Turkey Trot (see previous entry for the details), but it hadn't been too bothersome until now. Still, I didn't think it would be a problem.
As soon as I started the 400, I knew that my groin was a bigger problem than I expected. It got progressively more painful after the first 100. By the time I came around to the start/finish, I wondered if I would be able to continue the workout. I was having problems planting and pushing off and I definitely couldn't stride out on my left. To make things even more problematic, my watch was all messed up. So, while I think I made the interval (should have been 1:29), I couldn't tell. During my 400 recovery jog, I thought about my predicament. I decided to run the 600 and see what happened. I also thought that I fixed the problem with my watch. I hit the button to start the 600 and took off. Immediately, I realized that my leg was not going to let me finish the workout (at least at the intervals I wanted). I chopped my stride, ran the rest of the lap fairly gingerly and stopped at the 400. And it was over. To add insult to injury, when I looked at my watch to see what my first 400 time was, I couldn't get it to recall.
I guess I'm not running for a little while. I missed my target of 100K for the month, but that's not a huge deal; it was just a motivator. I'm going to see if I can still ride and swim. Right now, I'm walking kind of like I just got off a horse. Seems that things like this never used to happen to me 20 years ago, when I was younger and faster.
So, off I went on a 2 mile w/u. I was wearing my Newtons; I had thought about using racing flats, but hoped that I could still make the intervals easily wearing training flats. At the 1.5 mile mark, I did some 100 m strides, and didn't feel too bad. However, I did notice my left hip (more correctly, groin) was acting a bit unhappy. I had tweaked it during the Turkey Trot (see previous entry for the details), but it hadn't been too bothersome until now. Still, I didn't think it would be a problem.
As soon as I started the 400, I knew that my groin was a bigger problem than I expected. It got progressively more painful after the first 100. By the time I came around to the start/finish, I wondered if I would be able to continue the workout. I was having problems planting and pushing off and I definitely couldn't stride out on my left. To make things even more problematic, my watch was all messed up. So, while I think I made the interval (should have been 1:29), I couldn't tell. During my 400 recovery jog, I thought about my predicament. I decided to run the 600 and see what happened. I also thought that I fixed the problem with my watch. I hit the button to start the 600 and took off. Immediately, I realized that my leg was not going to let me finish the workout (at least at the intervals I wanted). I chopped my stride, ran the rest of the lap fairly gingerly and stopped at the 400. And it was over. To add insult to injury, when I looked at my watch to see what my first 400 time was, I couldn't get it to recall.
I guess I'm not running for a little while. I missed my target of 100K for the month, but that's not a huge deal; it was just a motivator. I'm going to see if I can still ride and swim. Right now, I'm walking kind of like I just got off a horse. Seems that things like this never used to happen to me 20 years ago, when I was younger and faster.
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