We did a 2-mile time trial Tuesday night. It was not pretty. I finished in 13:54. I really want a do-over.
What are the things that could have gone wrong? This is what I've asked myself, and here is what I've determined:
1) Heavy legs still from Sunday (I neither stretched nor drank enough water nor ate enough protein following the 9.5 mile run, 50-mile bike, 4 mile run, which ended after 2 p.m. in blazing sunshine, 95 degree heat and stifling humidity).
2) Dehydration--I simply do not get enough water and I know this, yet I do nothing about it.
3) Insufficient fuel--I hadn't eaten since lunch, which is unusual for me, and I know I can't get through an afternoon workout without putting some fuel in the tank at around 3 or 4 p.m.
4) Mental block--I used to run the 3200 in high school and the 3000 in college. I used to be relatively fast, but I also know what 8 laps feels like when you're pushing. It's rewarding when it's over, but in all honesty, unless you're 100% in the zone, it sucks while you're doing it.
4.5) Ongoing tightness/pain in my right calf. I don't think it was a huge contributor, but it didn't help.
Anyway, I finally plugged my time in to the McMillan Pace Calculator last night. My 5k pace is apparently supposed to be 7:18, and my marathon pace is 3:39:59. Looking only at those two numbers, I know Tuesday was an off night. My first 5k at the Darned'st was 7:10, and that didn't feel anywhere near as craptacular as the time trial did. I also know that my marathon PR is 3:34--granted, I set it going on 12 years ago, but I can't believe I've slowed by that much. Furthermore, I've run two marathons in 3:42 on a scaled-back training program, and a 3:52 (or something like that) on minimal training. So I MUST have just sucked on Tuesday night, right? I mean, right??
Yeah, I'm going with it.
Also, subsequent to the time trial, I was given advice--reminders, actually--by two different guys named Chris (the spellings of their names are different--one is spelled with a K, a Z, a Y and I think a few other consonants...in other words, I can't spell it--it kind of looks like Kyrzygstan--so we're going with the American-ized, generally accepted spelling of the name) that it really isn't about the time so much as it is the honesty of the effort. Both of them said it a little more eloquently than that, but that's what I've boiled it down to. I know they're right, but it's hard to shake the 18-year old ghost that hangs out in the back of my mind, reminding me that once upon a time I could cover two miles in 11 minutes. Nevermind that it was half my life (!) ago.
Let it go...I know.
Anyway, here's to hoping the next time trial won't be as sucky.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
9/11
Six years on, it is easy to forget the pain we all felt on this day in 2001. I just visited Shorey's blog, though, and the stats on lives lost that day that she posted--just the very tables and graphs themselves--caused me to suck in my breath and experience the horror all over again. It is still so close to the surface. I remember I cried every day for 10 straight days after 9/11.
I also did the NYC marathon that year. I had been about to withdraw because I hadn't trained for it anywhere near enough, and then 9/11 happened, and I had to run it. Jeff and I went down to Ground Zero our very first afternoon in town; even though it had been seven weeks, there was still dust in the air, still the acrid smell of destroyed buildings. We cried a lot that day. The following day we went to Grand Central Station, where we happened upon the policemen who play the bagpipes (I'm sure there's a name for their contingent, but I don't remember it). They were holding a concert in the main terminal, and they ended it by playing "Amazing Grace." It sounds hokey now, but on that day, I remember choking back sobs.
On marathon day I remember standing on the upper deck, Manhattan-facing side of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge at the start of the marathon and listening to Mayor Giuliani tell us all how brave we were for showing up and running. It was scary--20,000 people standing on a bridge together makes you a sitting duck, or at least that's what it felt like--but I also remember thinking that if I were going to be killed by terrorists that day, I would die doing something I love. It sounds silly now, I know, but at that moment it felt like a very real possibility.
I remember running past so many fire houses--Brooklyn stands out in particular--with purple and black bunting draped across the front of those buildings. One fire house after another after another. I remember the firefighters standing outside and cheering the runners. I remember them blocking intersections for us all with their hook and ladder trucks. I remember not having the courage to make eye contact with a single one of them and quietly muttering my thanks to them as I ran by. After what these men and women had endured--continued to endure--what right did I have to look these people in the eye? How could "thank you" possibly ever be enough? I felt so small compared to all of them, so incredibly humbled by their loss, their bravery, their commitment and their hard work.
Perhaps the most poignant moment of all came on the day after the marathon. Jeff and I walked from Midtown down to Soho. Early in our walk we passed St. Patrick's Cathedral. Whereas the skies had been a blazing blue and the weather dry and warm on the day of the marathon, the following day was gray and chilly. Outside St. Patrick's were parked two hook and ladder trucks, their back bumpers facing one another. Their ladders were up and formed an arch between the two trucks. Hanging from the arch was more purple and black bunting. Dark colored bows hung on the cathedral doors and firemen dressed in their formal uniforms--white gloves and all--stood outside. Shiny black Town Cars were lined up along the curb. It was obvious there was a funeral either in progress or about to be in progress, and Jeff and I just stood there, absolutely speechless. It made the walk over to Rockefeller Plaza afterwards feel silly and pointless.
That was not my best trip to New York City, and it was nowhere near my fastest marathon, but it will always be one of the most special things I've ever done.
I also did the NYC marathon that year. I had been about to withdraw because I hadn't trained for it anywhere near enough, and then 9/11 happened, and I had to run it. Jeff and I went down to Ground Zero our very first afternoon in town; even though it had been seven weeks, there was still dust in the air, still the acrid smell of destroyed buildings. We cried a lot that day. The following day we went to Grand Central Station, where we happened upon the policemen who play the bagpipes (I'm sure there's a name for their contingent, but I don't remember it). They were holding a concert in the main terminal, and they ended it by playing "Amazing Grace." It sounds hokey now, but on that day, I remember choking back sobs.
On marathon day I remember standing on the upper deck, Manhattan-facing side of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge at the start of the marathon and listening to Mayor Giuliani tell us all how brave we were for showing up and running. It was scary--20,000 people standing on a bridge together makes you a sitting duck, or at least that's what it felt like--but I also remember thinking that if I were going to be killed by terrorists that day, I would die doing something I love. It sounds silly now, I know, but at that moment it felt like a very real possibility.
I remember running past so many fire houses--Brooklyn stands out in particular--with purple and black bunting draped across the front of those buildings. One fire house after another after another. I remember the firefighters standing outside and cheering the runners. I remember them blocking intersections for us all with their hook and ladder trucks. I remember not having the courage to make eye contact with a single one of them and quietly muttering my thanks to them as I ran by. After what these men and women had endured--continued to endure--what right did I have to look these people in the eye? How could "thank you" possibly ever be enough? I felt so small compared to all of them, so incredibly humbled by their loss, their bravery, their commitment and their hard work.
Perhaps the most poignant moment of all came on the day after the marathon. Jeff and I walked from Midtown down to Soho. Early in our walk we passed St. Patrick's Cathedral. Whereas the skies had been a blazing blue and the weather dry and warm on the day of the marathon, the following day was gray and chilly. Outside St. Patrick's were parked two hook and ladder trucks, their back bumpers facing one another. Their ladders were up and formed an arch between the two trucks. Hanging from the arch was more purple and black bunting. Dark colored bows hung on the cathedral doors and firemen dressed in their formal uniforms--white gloves and all--stood outside. Shiny black Town Cars were lined up along the curb. It was obvious there was a funeral either in progress or about to be in progress, and Jeff and I just stood there, absolutely speechless. It made the walk over to Rockefeller Plaza afterwards feel silly and pointless.
That was not my best trip to New York City, and it was nowhere near my fastest marathon, but it will always be one of the most special things I've ever done.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Thursday Night Ride
After reading Lulu's blog yesterday, I was kind of dreading my ride on Parmer last night. Riding north on Parmer in the summer is fun--you go so fast with so little effort. But eventually you have to turn around and head south again. Which means wind. Always.
I was trying to take it easy, since my calf has been giving me trouble (sidenote: thanks to much prodding by Shorey and Wiley, I have scheduled a massage), but with that wind behind me, going fast felt too good to pass up. I HAVE to get a cycling computer (maybe later today...), but by the feel of it, I'd say I was over 20 mph with very little effort.
I rode up from Avery Ranch Road to 2438, or whatever the last light on northbound Parmer is, and then turned around and headed back (I was running out of daylight). Ah, yes, there was the wind! Good stuff. Actually, I don't mind the wind on Parmer all that much, I'm so used to it. I also noted I had three cyclists behind me, and I assumed they would be turning around at 2438, too, so I kept up the pace heading back south. I like knowing people are behind me or seeing someone in front of me, it makes me work harder.
Anyway, I managed to get in about 18 or 19 miles in an hour or so (including a loooonnnnggg stop at the light at 1431). My calf felt just fine, though it's a little tight this morning. And most importantly, even with that headwind, I still felt really strong. Parmer has become something of a periodic test for me to see how much stronger and faster I'm getting, and even with the sometimes questionable commitment to training this summer, I can still tell I've made significant progress on the bike. Good for me!
I was trying to take it easy, since my calf has been giving me trouble (sidenote: thanks to much prodding by Shorey and Wiley, I have scheduled a massage), but with that wind behind me, going fast felt too good to pass up. I HAVE to get a cycling computer (maybe later today...), but by the feel of it, I'd say I was over 20 mph with very little effort.
I rode up from Avery Ranch Road to 2438, or whatever the last light on northbound Parmer is, and then turned around and headed back (I was running out of daylight). Ah, yes, there was the wind! Good stuff. Actually, I don't mind the wind on Parmer all that much, I'm so used to it. I also noted I had three cyclists behind me, and I assumed they would be turning around at 2438, too, so I kept up the pace heading back south. I like knowing people are behind me or seeing someone in front of me, it makes me work harder.
Anyway, I managed to get in about 18 or 19 miles in an hour or so (including a loooonnnnggg stop at the light at 1431). My calf felt just fine, though it's a little tight this morning. And most importantly, even with that headwind, I still felt really strong. Parmer has become something of a periodic test for me to see how much stronger and faster I'm getting, and even with the sometimes questionable commitment to training this summer, I can still tell I've made significant progress on the bike. Good for me!
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Ouch
I took today off from running and biking. I didn't want to. However, my right calf was bothering me a little on Monday after the weekend's kind of insane workouts. Monday was also an off day--there were lots of things bothering me Monday--but I assumed my calf would settle down by Tuesday. And it did. Except I wore a (smashing) pair of heels to work, which seemed to re-aggravate it by the time Tuesday night's quality workout rolled around. I did the workout anyway (1.5 miles of straights and curves), but by the time I ran back to Run-Tex, I was in pretty severe pain. My calf was burning and just hurt in general, so much so I actually checked to see if I was bleeding. I know that sounds weird, but that was the sensation. I also noticed that I was modifying my running form--never a good thing--such that by the end of the cool down I could feel my right hamstring tightening up, too.
So I took today off. I'm going to try the rolling pin on my calf for a while tonight, as well as some ice. I plan to wear practical shoes to work tomorrow and bring my bike so I can ride after work. Biking doesn't seem to bother my calf as much as running, but it still aggravates it. I'm also trying to eat a lot of protein, something I don't always do a good job of. I figure this is just a muscle strain, and maybe a little extra protein will help the muscle fibers heal, but I have no idea if that will actually work (though it makes me feel better to think it does). Lastly, I'm trying to get sufficient sleep--anything to help my body repair itself.
Anyone have any other ideas??
So I took today off. I'm going to try the rolling pin on my calf for a while tonight, as well as some ice. I plan to wear practical shoes to work tomorrow and bring my bike so I can ride after work. Biking doesn't seem to bother my calf as much as running, but it still aggravates it. I'm also trying to eat a lot of protein, something I don't always do a good job of. I figure this is just a muscle strain, and maybe a little extra protein will help the muscle fibers heal, but I have no idea if that will actually work (though it makes me feel better to think it does). Lastly, I'm trying to get sufficient sleep--anything to help my body repair itself.
Anyone have any other ideas??
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Wobbly
I took Monday off from running. In fact, the only strenuous things I did on Monday were: 1) go to HEB (never do this on the last day of a long holiday weekend--everything was picked over) and 2) pull weeds. Otherwise I watched football ALL DAY! Watched the UT game with Jeff (he missed it Saturday night since he was off hunting the bird of peace), then watched Sports Center and highlights of Appalachian State beating Michigan--I'll never grow tired of that blocked field goal footage--then watched Tech beat up on SMU, then watched Clemson try to lose to Florida State.
Heaven.
I wanted to run, but I couldn't because Lulu and Panther kicked my ass on Sunday. Riding 50 miles with Lulu at an easy pace is the equivalent of doing a race. But, man, was it fun! We rode out to Buda and then toodled around on some county roads before riding back to Austin. Lulu split off from Panther and me at Dittmar, and he and I continued on up S. 1st back to Run-Tex. There are two nasty little hills on S. 1st--mentally I equate them to two soft, fuzzy little critters that look harmless enough, but that are actually mean little monsters with needle sharp teeth and claws. Kind of like cats. Anyway, we got back to Run-Tex and then ran 3.5 miles or thereabouts. After Saturday's workout (see previous post) and 50 pretty hilly miles with Lulu and Panther, my quads were on fire during the run. The slightest little incline (and there aren't that many on the H&B) felt like 12% grade, mile-long hills. The run could not end fast enough.
Next up was the Austin Tri Expo. Since I pretty much live in Waco, Panther and Audrey were nice enough to let me shower at their house, and Audrey even fed me enchiladas she made from scratch (thank you, Audrey, they were fantastic!). Panther and I high-tailed it back to the Hyatt, where Michelle and JJ were manning the Austin Duathletes booth. A beer was in order following the ride/run, plus Panther and I were slated to work from 2 - 6 p.m., and with very little traffic on our side of the ballroom, you have to do something to kill the time. Except JJ told me hotels in Texas don't sell beer on Sundays. I absolutely could not believe it. I mean, I knew about blue laws and all that, but, seriously, what the hell? So I asked him where the nearest beer-buying place was. He said the Chevron, but they couldn't sell beer either on Sundays, since they were within 100 yards of a hotel. He said the closest place to go was the HEB on Oltorf and S. 1st. I was up in arms over this news. I love Austin and everything, but there are certain things about the rest of the state that I have never understood and just cannot get behind, including our liquor laws, why the lieutenant governor has more power than the governor, and this whole concealed handgun thing. Anyway, JJ let me go on thinking you couldn't get a beer at the Hyatt for a few minutes before he finally told me he was kidding. I kind of wanted to punch him, except it really was pretty funny.
The A.D. booth was as successful as it reasonably could have been. We got some new emails, signed someone up to be a member, and sold a couple of shirts and a jersey. I also met one of the other people going to worlds next month, very nice guy named Matt. And KP and Heather stopped by, which is always entertaining.
I went to sleep at 8:45 Sunday night and slept completely soundly until 6 a.m. Which gets me back to Monday. I don't remember the last time my legs felt so wobbly--not even sore, literally, wobbly and shaky. So I ate a ton, drank water and used a rolling pin to work out some of the tender spots in my thighs. It's not a massage, but hopefully it was enough to get me through tonight's track workout--we'll see here in about two hours!
Heaven.
I wanted to run, but I couldn't because Lulu and Panther kicked my ass on Sunday. Riding 50 miles with Lulu at an easy pace is the equivalent of doing a race. But, man, was it fun! We rode out to Buda and then toodled around on some county roads before riding back to Austin. Lulu split off from Panther and me at Dittmar, and he and I continued on up S. 1st back to Run-Tex. There are two nasty little hills on S. 1st--mentally I equate them to two soft, fuzzy little critters that look harmless enough, but that are actually mean little monsters with needle sharp teeth and claws. Kind of like cats. Anyway, we got back to Run-Tex and then ran 3.5 miles or thereabouts. After Saturday's workout (see previous post) and 50 pretty hilly miles with Lulu and Panther, my quads were on fire during the run. The slightest little incline (and there aren't that many on the H&B) felt like 12% grade, mile-long hills. The run could not end fast enough.
Next up was the Austin Tri Expo. Since I pretty much live in Waco, Panther and Audrey were nice enough to let me shower at their house, and Audrey even fed me enchiladas she made from scratch (thank you, Audrey, they were fantastic!). Panther and I high-tailed it back to the Hyatt, where Michelle and JJ were manning the Austin Duathletes booth. A beer was in order following the ride/run, plus Panther and I were slated to work from 2 - 6 p.m., and with very little traffic on our side of the ballroom, you have to do something to kill the time. Except JJ told me hotels in Texas don't sell beer on Sundays. I absolutely could not believe it. I mean, I knew about blue laws and all that, but, seriously, what the hell? So I asked him where the nearest beer-buying place was. He said the Chevron, but they couldn't sell beer either on Sundays, since they were within 100 yards of a hotel. He said the closest place to go was the HEB on Oltorf and S. 1st. I was up in arms over this news. I love Austin and everything, but there are certain things about the rest of the state that I have never understood and just cannot get behind, including our liquor laws, why the lieutenant governor has more power than the governor, and this whole concealed handgun thing. Anyway, JJ let me go on thinking you couldn't get a beer at the Hyatt for a few minutes before he finally told me he was kidding. I kind of wanted to punch him, except it really was pretty funny.
The A.D. booth was as successful as it reasonably could have been. We got some new emails, signed someone up to be a member, and sold a couple of shirts and a jersey. I also met one of the other people going to worlds next month, very nice guy named Matt. And KP and Heather stopped by, which is always entertaining.
I went to sleep at 8:45 Sunday night and slept completely soundly until 6 a.m. Which gets me back to Monday. I don't remember the last time my legs felt so wobbly--not even sore, literally, wobbly and shaky. So I ate a ton, drank water and used a rolling pin to work out some of the tender spots in my thighs. It's not a massage, but hopefully it was enough to get me through tonight's track workout--we'll see here in about two hours!
Saturday, September 1, 2007
How I Spent My Saturday
Holy God, I'm tired! Here's why:
- 10 mile run at 7:30 pace on average, the final miles were faster than that.
- Stood around for an hour, then Panther and I got on our bikes and rode 30 miles, the first half of which were through Rollingwood and out along 360.
- Got back and then Panther and I ran a little over 4 more miles.
- Total time working out: 4 hours (5 if you count the standing around part)
This was a good workout--physically and mentally challenging. The reward for all that effort? Breakfast tacos and 'ritas at Maudie's with Shorey, Ostrich and Panther.
I'm so tired I can't see. Guess that means it's time for bed.
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