Base training FTW

It's been a little while since I last posted. I'll blame this on two things: one, I'm lazy and busy and haven't been bothered to post, and two, base training is boring (to write and read about). That being said, as this marks the end of base training, I figured I'd write a brief highlighting of the last few weeks of training.

0. I've now succesfully run 2 70ish mile weeks in a row. Go me! Last weekend and this weekend both had a medium-long (last weekend, a half marathon, this weekend, 14 miles at 7:10 pace) harder runs on Saturday followed by easy long runs Sunday (17 last week, 20 this week). It kind of feels like I may have forgotten how to run for 3 hours, but I guess I'll get back to it eventually :)

1. I got hit by a CMU golf cart, which impeded my mileage increasing beyond 60something miles 3 weeks ago.
   This is only vaguely related to training. I felt like crap for a couple of days (I was really sore and kind of bruised), but I mostly wanted an excuse to briefly write about the incident (which, in hindsight, is humorous).
   I had just finished a nice run with the Bald One through Schenley park. I was off to have dinner with a friend, and hopped on my bike outside the University Center. I rode along the path between the UC and the parking garage. I was riding slowly, since there are often other bicyclists and pedestrians in the area.  The path intersects with another piece of path at a 90' angle, the inside of which is full of a large, overgrown bush. I entered into the intersection, aiming to turn left, when I was attacked from the side by a vicious motorized cart driven by a red-faced Yinzer.

He hit my left side and my bicycle, which caused me to topple over with some force. I was then somewhat pinned to the cement by my bicycle and the weight of my backpack. The Yinzer immediately jumps off his cart and hears me screaming "Jesus! Holy Shit!" (I am in shock, and didn't at this point intend any blasphemies). His kneejerk response is "It wasn't my fault!" Given the fact that I was freaking the fuck out, and swearing and crying and clearly out of it, but was able to focus on what he'd said well enough to give him a death glare, he decided to shut his trap. It was all I could do to not scream at him "Well, whose fault was it, then? If I'd run into you I wouldn't be blaming you! Also I'm hurt and freaking out; do you think we can wait on making me feel guilty about this until after I calm down a bit?"

The Bald One comes sprinting over as soon as he saw what happened. There were pretty quickly about 6 CMUPD officers standing around, asking me, TBO, and the crazed driver of the souped-up gocart questions. There were pretty quickly EMT or medic-ish people there, checking me out and saying they were going to take me to the hospital. Once I'd figured out that I was banged up but likely had not broken any bones, I requested that they not send me to the hospital. I also asked if I could stand up: everyone was towering over me and it felt super uncomfortable.

 I heard the driver say "There should be a stop sign there!", which caused me to throw another nasty look his way. Is that corner poorly kept and a safety hazard? Yes. Do you get to justify the entire accident on that, rather than going too quickly and not being careful enough? No. He came over towards me and (for the first time, at least 20 minutes after this all happened), said, "I'm sorry. Here, let me give you a backrub" and started rubbing my shoulders for about 1 second. He either got the impression that I was very much not ok with that, or that the police all started looking at him, and stopped. Later, TBO told me that the police officer he was talking to said to him, "If he doesn't stop touching her this second I'm going to fucking tase him." (I would have enjoyed this).

Anyway, long story long, I'm fine. But that guy's kind of a dick and CMU has some real deficiencies in its campus (for safety and aesthetic reasons, that bush should either not be there or be much trimmed back).

2. We ran Decker's Creek again!

Not much to say here, other than that it was at least as fun as last year. We went out, camped, ran, drank, and were merry. A good time was had by all. I ran an ok 1:24:05, which given the 80' heat and humidity, I'll take.

3. Real training starts this week and I'm in Seattle!

Enough said!

Eugene Marathon Recap and Starting over

It's taken me awhile to get to writing this post. For 12 weeks prior to running my most recent race, I poured my heart and time into training harder than I ever have before. Three quality workouts and several days with two workouts each week, ensuring I got at least 7 hours of sleep each night, drinking enough water, and eating wholesome food was satisfying but exhausting. I spent way more time and mental focus on this training cycle than I had ever imagined I'd do. So, when it was all over, I took 5 days off of running entirely and didn't really want to think about training or running at all.

It's now been 2.5 weeks, though, and I figure it's worth writing down how I felt about my race for posterity's sake. I also know there are people who have been following the blog that I haven't talked to since I ran, so they might want to know a bit more about how exactly my A race of the season unfolded. In short, in case you're in a hurry to get back to work, my A race was much more of a B- race in terms of my satisfaction with the run. 

If you're trying to spend a bit more time, though, here's a slightly lengthier version of my race recap.

I headed out to Eugene via train/bus from Seattle, where I'd been to celebrate my two-year anniversary with B. We had a great time for the one day I was in Seattle, as a sidenote: B came up with an awesome Italian restaurant for us to eat at, after we wandered around the city on a bit of a sight-seeing tour. 

Anyway, I had an early-morning train leaving Seattle on Friday: the weather was beautiful and the train station was gorgeous. I read "Once a Runner" in its totality on the train on the ride down and ate 3 Powerbars for food. When I arrived in Eugene, my awesome roommate (from GRC) came and picked me up at the bus station. We checked into the hotel, had some food with another GRC runner and her mom, and went to bed quite early. 

The next day, we went for a quick jog, we grabbed some water bottles for B from Target, had some nice lunch and went to a local brewery before heading to the elite meeting. The elite meeting was really nice and low-key: Ken, the man in charge of the race, was really  nice and responsible and laid-back. He encapsulated the Pacific Northwest attitude in a single personage. We left the meeting, headed to dinner, and back to the hotel. I managed to open my pre-bedtime beer on the door fixture, drank a few swigs, and laid down to go to bed. Unfortunately,  but not surprisingly, my mind was racing for awhile which was making it tough to go to sleep. Even after I'd calmed down a bit, though, some muscles in my back started to spasm which again added difficulty to falling asleep. I did eventually fall asleep, but I slept fitfully and for less time than I had hoped.

I woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly good. I ate a piece of bagel, drank some gatorade, and we made our way to the race start. The elite tent was awesome: there were a number of port-a-johns we got to use and no other runners had discovered. About 10 minutes to the race, we walked over to the starting line. As we stood on the line, I realized I had to pee, and there were no port-a-potties nearby. So, I jogged 20 yards over to some bushes and joined a few others who found their natural restroom there. I met two CNW runners, who Tom told me would be good to work with during the run. 

After the gun went off, I quickly fell in with these two girls. We were hitting our miles at between 6:30 and 6:35, which felt quite comfortable, almost like jogging, in the first 5k. Mile 4 had a bit of a hill, and while I didn't feel our group pushed a lot up the hill, I was breathing just a bit more than I was at the top of the hill than at the bottom, which worried me very slightly. When we came upon that mile marker, it turned out we'd run more like a 6:25 that mile: definitely too fast. We chilled out again for a few miles and hit more 6:30-6:35 miles. Our 10k time was 40:10. There was another bit of a hill at mile 8, and again, I felt like I was breathing a little harder at the top than the bottom. I felt like I was doing well working with the other women, though, so I decided to continue with them. Our group of 3 became a group of 4 before we made the 9 mile elite fluid station (right by Hayward Field, where we started). I flawlessly grabbed my bottle of maltodextrin, chugged slightly more than half of it (which equated to about a Gu in terms of calories), and tossed the bottle. This whole time, Tom was biking around and cheering us on, which was hugely helpful. 

Around mile 11, I decided to chill the pace a little from the rest of the group. They were really pushing at more like 6:30 than I felt I could hold, so I settled back into 6:40 or so. I hit the half in 1:25:50something. I was in 8th place. At this point, I felt like I was working, but I expected that by the halfway mark. Shortly after the 14 mile mark, however, trouble set in. My quads began to cramp, and hard, with almost no warning. I'd never felt this before, and it was pretty scary to know I was 12 miles away from the finish line and already a pretty serious problem was setting in. I gritted my teeth and kept moving, albeit somewhat slower. 

I kept glancing at my watch for the next couple of mile markers, noticing my 6:30-6:40 pace was becoming 6:50-7:00. The cramping had started to spread up to my abs and down to my calf muscles. Everything hurt. A lot. I am used to fatigue and the burn of lactic acid and muscle breakdown that I've felt during other races, but this was different. I saw another mile go by in 7:15. I thought I was going to break down and cry right then. At this point, I decide to stop looking at my watch, because I'm unable to speed up even for a mile, let alone for another 10, and seeing the numbers my watch showed was only breaking my heart. A few times, my legs began to buckle and I had to walk a few strides to let my legs hold me up again. I decided to not take my fuel after this point (which, admittedly was stupid), but my stomach was upset from the cramping and I didn't want to make that any worse. Each mile marker begot another 7something minute piece of torture, where all I could think about was how much I needed the next mile marker to show up soon. A number of times between 16 and 20 miles I considered dropping out, walking back to the start. I'd never been in more pain. Not when I was 7 and fell down the stairs. Not when I was 8 and needed stitches for cutting my chin on my side of a pool after attempting to jump across a narrow part of the pool and missing the other side, nor the even more painful shot of painkillers they gave me before administering the stitches. Not when I was stuck under a heavy canoe for a couple of minutes with my face pinned underwater. Not when I fell over B and almost blinded myself and cut my eyelid pretty badly on the corner of his filing cabinet. None of these things came to mind at the time because the pain was so much worse that it didn't feel like the same sensation. I noticed women passing me, lots of them, but there was nothing I had to fight with whatsoever. It was disheartening but there was no response I had.

Anyway, I came across a female member of the UofO distance squad who was also having a horrific time of things. She and I went back and forth jogging past one another, briefly taking absolutely necessary 10 second walk breaks, and croaking words of encouragement to one another. This weird interaction was hugely helpful, oddly enough. We managed to make it to 24 or so before I didn't see her again. I swore to myself I wouldn't walk again, and I was pretty sure I'd still break 3:05 unless I fell over before the finish line. My legs had no faster pace in them. 

But I did focus every amount of mental energy I had on putting one foot in front of another until Hayward Field came into sight for the third time that day. When I saw it, that magnificent stadium where so many world-class athletes have trained and raced, I realized I was going to finish the race. Not until I was within two tenths of a mile of the finish line was I sure I'd manage to make the whole race. I shuffled in across the line in 3:02:50something.  I almost fell over 2 steps afterwards. Ken came up to me and congratulated my teary and delirious self, and asked me to come back to race again next year. I was hungry and thirsty (I'd done a horrible job taking care of myself once i realized the race was going so poorly), but I didn't care and didn't want to fix that. I stumbled out of the shoot and ran smack into Tom and Mark, another CNW coach. They told me I'd done a great job. I shook my head and asked how the women I'd been running with had done: 2:52 and 2:53, respectively. I told them to tell them both congratulations, and fell into a chair, where I sat for a good 20 minutes before I got up and Mark helped me find my gear and my friends.

Needless to say, the physical recovery from this race has been pretty rough. I've never been more sore in the few days following a race. I didn't run at all until Friday of the following week, where I jogged a very slow and painful 3 miles and only because I was traveling did I do that rather than cross-train. I didn't get much sleep, eat enough or very well, for about a week after the race, because it felt good to be able to be reckless in my treatment of my body for a little while. I ran a beer mile and didn't puke and was proud of this.

 All of this was somewhat symptomatic of the mental recovery I've been working through, too: I was hugely disappointed with my race. I wasn't sure if things would have gone much different if my first half had been a minute or so slower. I didn't know if I ever wanted to race a marathon again. I was strongly considering swearing a blood oath to not race another one. Even knowing how the race played out, I didn't know what I did wrong. I guess this is the way marathon running works: you train really hard, for a long time, and occasionally, you race. And even more infrequently, the stars align and you have a great race and see the fruits of your labor reflected in that. Unfortunately, the faster you get, the smaller the marginal gains you get from training, and the easier it is for small problems to overshadow big improvements in your fitness and cause a bad race. It's easier for your first few races in any distance to always PR: your fitness gets so much better so quickly when you're new to any sport. And I'm still used to seeing pretty huge improvements in my times between each race. I guess I'll have to get used to the marathon kicking my ass more seriously on a regular basis.

Now, though, I'm back to running a bit. I'm now doing mostly mafatone (MAF) training for a few weeks. Basically, keeping my heart rate relatively low (145-155, while marathon pace is more like 165), for all of my runs, allowing me to get my mileage back up fairly quickly without causing serious muscular damage when my body is still healing and building back. This week, I've got a 60ish mile week, all at a comfortable pace (nothing faster than 7:00 pace, and often slower if I'm tired, poorly recovered, or running up a hill). After a few weeks of this, the plan is to run 10 weeks of high intensity, focusing on 5k/10k and top-end speed leading into the Great Race 10k at the end of September. After the Great Race, another 10 mile cycle, this one focused on marathon-specific work, will lead into the California International Marathon in December (where a bunch of Hounds are racing! Yay! Hounds trip!) I'm excited about this plan: my lack of top-end speed will be improved, and should make 6:30something pace feel slow. Hopefully, I'll come back very fit and strong from a summer of a lot of running. 

In the more short-term, I'll be racing my favorite-ever half marathon, Decker's Creek. This race is awesome: it's a half that is mostly on a gravel trail next to a river, which loses 800 feet gradually over the first 11 miles. It is, as you might imagine, my best half marathon time to date, and was one of the most fun things I did last summer (following it last year was last year's Beer Mile, and prior to it we camped out and drank beer). Anyway, I'm really looking forward to busting out a reasonable time and having fun with some Hounds in Morgantown, WV!

Running... a rather absurd pastime.

I started writing this post on Tuesday, the day after Patriot's day. For many of my readers, this is equivalent to me saying "the day after the Boston Marathon." And for each of you, whether or not you were aware yesterday morning was the Boston Marathon, by yesterday afternoon I'm sure everyone had heard that two explosions had gone off on Boylston Street, in the final stretch of the Boston Marathon. They occurred right around the 4 hour mark, when the largest number of people were streaming past the Citgo sign into the final mile of the race. Current counts have 3 dead and well over 100 injured. I'm not a particularly good or timely news source, but I figure it's worth giving some small amount of context for this post as I write it.

All afternoon and night, my family and friends were calling, emailing, texting, and Facebooking me to make sure I wasn't at the race. Much to their relief, I didn't decide to run Boston this year. But I did know about a dozen people who were. I couldn't believe what had happened. Very few fatal attacks of terror have been executed successfully in the United States since I've been alive, and while this certainly doesn't lessen the horror of attacks in places where violence is more common, it has a particular shocking value if you're not used to it happening so close to home. I managed to track down the people I knew who were running yesterday, but I was lucky. There were all sorts of families who couldn't reach their runners for hours, since the gear-check bags were not available to be retrieved until today. Many people were left without phones or wallets or plane tickets without access to their bags. I  guess I've been freaked out by the closeness of it all. I knew people who were within a few blocks of the explosion. Many of my friends are runners, many of whom have been to Boston. I started the race last year.

That being said, I've decided that if I alter my life in any substantial way, the terrorists win. So, let me only say that my thoughts go out to those affected by the bombings yesterday in Boston, and more generally the people injured by acts of terror worldwide. I've also decided if I don't give the Eugene Marathon my all, the Terrorists Win. So I plan to give it my all (even if the Terrorists don't notice).

Watching the race yesterday was also really exciting. The womens' race was the most exciting race I've seen in a long time. A big pack of women went out quite cautiously, with a pack of 4 women about 15 seconds ahead at the 5k. Their first 10K was in just 35:50, which equates to a 2:31, despite several of the women in the field having PRs about 10 minutes faster. Eventually, the lead pack thinned a bit, and a gang of four went out for it. Portugal's Caballero took the lead at around 11 miles and put 30something seconds between herself and the chase pack. It was super-strange: the weather must have been perfect and windless, or the road must have been very slanted, because the rest of the pack spread all across the road rather than drafting off each other. I've never seen elite runners do that before.... and the men's race (which I admittedly paid less attention to) did the same thing at roughly the same spot in the course.

At about 15 miles, another Portugese runner, Ana Felix, plays catch-up and takes the lead from Caballero. The rest of the chase group held back at this point. Felix looked really strong, and Caballero let her lead. She put well over a minute between herself and the chase pack between 15 and 20 miles, and while she looked strong in terms of her stride and form, she kept glancing back over her shoulder, wondering when the pack of women were going to catch back up.

And catch back up they did! A pack of 5 women starts to pick at her lead at about 20 miles. Rita Jeptoo, the Boston Champion from 2006,  Shalene Flannigan, Meseret Hailu, and Sharon Cherop come and get her, dropping the hammer with a few 5:10ish miles in a row. They cut a 1+ minute lead in just 3 miles: Rita Jeptoo overtook Felix at 23 miles. The last few miles were gutwrenching: watching these women who had run a much more strategic race than I've ever watched before, vied for place. Kara Goucher and one other female runner are a bit back. Then, the final turn onto Boylston street, and the group of four lead women separates. Rita Jeptoo pulls away from the other women, Hailu keeps her sights on Jeptoo but doesn't have the leg strength to get her back, Cherop follows shortly behind, and Shalene Flannigan comes in fourth. Shortly thereafter, Kara Goucher finishes 6th, with a time of 2:28. The race was won in 2:26 and change, which is about 5:00 slower than Jeptoo's personal best. As I mentioned, it was the most strategically interesting marathon I've ever watched: the race went out very, very slow: the first mile was just 6:01, despite the winning time averaging a 5:38. A bunch of women were freaked out at various points about the pack not cutting the pace down fast enough, and took the lead with a strong pace. That turned out to be an error: that effort left both women too tired to pick up the pace when the pack caught up with them. 

Anyway, I've had 2 weeks without posting, so here have been the workouts:

Mon: Off. Rest day from Cherry Blossom (30 min cardio)
Tues: 4 miles easy
Wed: Dreadmill. 2 mile WU, 4x1 mile at MP, 400 at 7:00, 4x 800 at MP, 400 at 7:00
Thurs: 4 miles easy
Fri: 9 mile progression. 3 easy, 3 at 6:50, 4 at 6:40
Sat: 4 miles easy
Sun: 20 miles. 10 easy, 10 at 6:40-6:55. No real labor allowed, just keep it below 7.

All of the workouts were pretty good... Wednesday was sticky and on the treadmill. As usual, I scared the random people walking and watching E! network on their televisions by running fast on the treadmill. Friday was miserably humid/rainy on the track, where I did 5 miles at marathon pace. I didn't really go 6:50 for the second three; it was more like marathon pace for 6 miles.

Saturday night, L, J2 and myself got together and watched Without Limits. Every time I watch that movie, I get so pumped up by Steve's amazing moustache:

and his insane drive, work ethic, and will to put himself through incredible amounts of pain. I had some trouble falling asleep that night because I was so ready to go running and work my ass off. Sunday, I did 10 miles easy and 8 at marathon-ish pace. I was accompanied by The Russian for a good part of the faster stuff (also S for the first bit of it). I decided to back off a couple of miles early, because I realized I was two weeks out from my race and wanted not to beat myself up too badly. I got a sweet massage later that afternoon, which really seemed to help me recover.

Mon: 4 miles easy
Tues: 0-6 miles easy
Wed: 9 miles easy, 4 miles at marathon pace
Thurs: Rest
Fri: Random Distance run
Sat: 4 miles with 4x20" strides at ~6:00 pace
Sun: 2 mile WU, 2x3 miles at MP. 

Finally, a week that looked like a taper week! I explicitly told my coach that I wanted at least 1 day off this week, and at least 2 days off next week. Throughout this training cycle, I've had the fewest days off I've every had. I used to take a day or two off every week, then eventually that led to one day a week off, then over the summer/fall I was taking a day off every other week, or two out of three weeks. Since Tim started coaching me, I can remember each day I've had off. I had one day off at the end of January after our ridiculous All-Day run, wherein L, The Russian, J2, M, and myself (supported by many awesome teammates along the way) literally ran all day (this entire 40+ mile debacle was my idea, as you might imagine). I had two days off sometime in March, when I explicitly asked for them so I could carry a 30-pound pack 10 miles each day after cramming 60 miles into 4 workdays. The first night of Passover, I ended up with a day off because I flew across the country and my plane left at 5:55 AM MST, and I didn't get in until almost 7 pm and then had Seder that didn't end until almost 11 EST. I took the day off after Cherry Blossom, and I took Thursday off. 

After each of these days, I felt pretty awesome when I went out for my next run. The short-term fatigue from the previous workout was sometimes still there, but I felt like a little bit of the constant monotony and dragginess that came from running 7 days a week with 3 workouts seemed to subside. So, I asked for some days off. Because I'd much rather over-taper than under-taper for a marathon. 

The week in general felt good. Each of the workouts went well, though I tweaked my left ankle on my run today. It feels pretty ok at the moment, though, so I'm not going to worry about it. I also have another massage tomorrow, and a day off of running! 

For all you runners out there, don't let the Terrorists win. Taper enough for your distance, sleep enough, eat well, drink water. After all, "The best pace is a suicide pace, and today is a good day to die."--Pre

But seriously. If you're racing a full you shouldn't feel that way until like 2/3 of the way through the race or you're screwed. In the last 10k, though, if these words don't echo your sentiment, you're doing it wrong.

(Thyroid) Stimulating Conversation

So, two times in the last week, I've come across derivations of this article:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424127887323550604578412913149043072.html

which talks about a group of elite athletes who have all been diagnosed with hypothyroidism by one endocrinologist.  This article didn't say the doctor is giving these athletes legal performance enhancing drugs, but definitely alluded to the possibility. The article also states that something like 17% of Nike's elite running team has been diagnosed with hypothyroidism. Based on diagnosis rates within the general public, somewhere between 5% and 10% of Americans are thought to have hypothyroidism. A clear inference can be made! There are differences between these two populations, and perhaps even how careful they are with their health! Of course, I'm being somewhat tongue-in-cheek. Clearly, elite athletes and the general population have a number of different scales on which they are substantially different. Moreover, an elite athlete tends to be much more aware of his/her energy levels, overall health, and tends to be much more proactive about regular physicals and doctor visits. These two things in combination don't inherently suggest that the number of elite runners with hypothyroidism is inflated, but it does say there might be substantial bias in the sampling we have (most elite athletes would go to the doctor with chronic fatigue; most average people might not bother to have a test done at all).

I think it's somewhat dangerous to make inferences about a potential performance enhancement/detriment derived from a drug without formal, scientific, and statistically reasonable studies having been done on said drug. I'm hypothyroidic, as are a number of my non-athletic, young and relatively healthy friends. As the end of the article alludes, the medical community is divided as to (a) what constitutes too little or too much thyroid stimulating hormone, (b) how best to treat those conditions, and (c) what side effects (or intended effects) these treatments have.

It is certainly the case that levothyroxin is somewhat of a stimulant. But that's exactly the point: if you don't have enough of the natural stuff, your body has less natural stimulus than is considered "normal" or "healthy". Thus, the drug is intended to replace the stimulus your body isn't giving itself. The thyroid produces 2 versions of the same hormone, which affect metabolic rate, skin and hair health, digestion, energy levels, etc etc. I was tested and ultimately diagnosed with hypothyroidism not because of my running performance (I was diagnosed many years before I started competing again), or gaining weight (I'd been the same weight between 15 and 19, when I was diagnosed), but because my sleep patterns were super awry, pretty frequent nausea, and I had very dry skin.

The article mentions several athletes who have publicly announced their diagnosis with thyroid disorders, including Ryan Hall, Galen Rupp, Amy Yoder Begley, Bob Kennedy and Patrick Smyth. Individuals less familiar with hypothyroidism might immediately reach two conclusions: first, aren't those runners all really skinny for having hypothyroidism, and two, isn't it suspicious that those names include some of the fastest people in today's distance running scene?

As far as the first point, hypothyroidism has a number of symptoms, including but not limited to weight gain, chronic fatigue, sensitivity to heat and cold, trouble sleeping, skin and hair trouble, and digestive problems. The runners above all train for hours every day. It would not be surprising in the least if their training regiments mask the weight gain that might otherwise come from hypothyroidism. Moreover, even among more "average" people diagnosed with hypothyroidism, not everyone experiences weight gain as a symptom of the disease.

The second point leads me to a somewhat different set of questions. First, is there some reason that heavy training loads suppress thyroid function? Maybe that's why a bunch of serious athletes have been diagnosed. Second, as there is much dissent within the medical community about "normal" ranges of TSH, what sorts of ranges do the elite athletes who are being treated (by this doctor) have? Are they ranges that no one else in the country would call low? Or are they just on the high side of low? Do they exhibit symptoms of hypothyroidism, besides the normal fatigue plaguing other elite athletes under significant training duress? And finally, if an athlete has low iron counts (due, perhaps in part, to training), and takes iron to fix the problem, they will see an improvement in their performance. Does that make iron a performance-enhancing drug? 

Everyone agrees that some drugs are performance-enhancing, but what line must you cross? Healthy diet, too, can improve performance, though the food might not be in pill form. So might taking supplements for other deficiencies  or taking a daily multivitamin out of habit. So too might a male athlete getting testosterone injections. Where do we draw the line? Generally speaking, wherever that line is, most people would agree that food and multivitamins should not be considered performance enhancing drugs, and that EPO and HGH should. In between those two extremes, though, are a host of other "performance enhancers", that might improve the performance of some athletes, but are more or less "natural", and have smaller or larger natural levels within the human body.

Cheery Blossom

Hey, all! Sorry I didn't post last week: between Passover and getting ready for Cherry Blossom, last week was nuts. So, here is a brief description of my last 2 weeks of training:

Monday: Off, traveling and the first night of Passover
Tuesday: 1200s at ~4:20-4:25 (7 of them)
Wednesday: 7.2 easy AM, 9.7 easy PM
Thursday: 6 miles easy
Friday: 10 mile progression run. 2 mile warmup, 6 miles starting at 6:45, cutting 5 seconds/mile. 2 mile cooldown
Saturday: 7 miles easy
Sunday: 17 miles with 5x800 at roughly Cherry Blossom Pace (~3:10 or so?)
========
Monday: Massage AM, 3 miles PM
Tuesday: 6x600 at ~1:58, with full (like 3:30 or so) rest
Wednesday: 7 miles easy
Thursday: 3 mile warmup, 3x2 at MP, 3 mile cooldown
Friday: 4 miles easy
Saturday: 4 miles easy with 6 easy strides (20")
Sunday: 4 mile warmup with 4x1:00 hard, 10 mile Cherry Blossom!

So my running has been pretty good; mileage is coming down (67 miles and then 53), which is good, given I now have 3 weeks to marathon. My 1200s were fast, the slowest was 4:21. I was pretty tired the next day, but by Friday, I was ready to go again. Steph and I went out and did the progression run in beautiful weather on the river trails. Each of my miles was a few seconds fast for that run, too. Sunday was a miserable run: between rain, shoes causing my heels to crack and bleed, dehydration and general fatigue, I was very happy to be done with that run. I guess the Hounds seder at my house Saturday night didn't really help that. The whole week was somewhat weird for nutrition: Passover means I eat nothing but dairy, produce, and matzot (no grains or legumes). Surprisingly, I didn't have much of a problem digestively despite these restrictions. I ate a bunch of sweet potatoes and matzot to supplement my carbohydrate reserves.

The next day, I had a nice sports massage to try and work out some of the tightness in my calves and glutes. I don't usually have massages that involve my legs, because (a) my legs are  quite ticklish, (b) I don't like the idea of my legs being messed up by massage, and (c) buying new shoes seems like a better investment of the money for my general leg health. But I'd been feeling like my muscles were rather bound up so I gave it a go. I'm really happy I did! While I felt a little weird for a couple of days, a week out, my legs definitely feel better than they did before. I have all these tight spots in my calves and hamstrings and glutes, and I've noticed an increased range of motion and a smoother stride since last week. I've decided that I'm going to get another massage this Sunday upcoming, to try and have this effect last until Eugene (which, as I just mentioned is only 3 weeks away now!)

L and I had 600s to do the next day, which we did with K and N. It was really fun to run fast... we were doing not too much slower than our mile pace, which meant we were passing the men (who were doing their 5k pace), when we were all synced up for start times. My legs really didn't remember how to run that fast, but I managed to be quite on pace each time we ran those, even on the first 200. Our splits were, roughly 78 or 79 at the 400. After doing 6 of them, I decided I didn't need to do any more, given my race coming up that weekend. We broke Passover at Stack'd, which was a lot of fun! I ate a veggie bean burger, on bread, with fried mac and cheese and a beer. Nothing like going off a dietary restriction by stuffing yourself with all that you couldn't eat before... my stomach was not happy with me later that night.

I woke up to do Thursday's workout, only to find it was about 20 degrees colder than I'd expected (it was 18 when I went out... brrr!) I ran down to the river trails from my place to do the 3x2. Unfortunately for me, I ran the miles a bit faster than I was supposed to... the slowest was 6:40 or so (and that was supposed to be the fastest I was to run). I promise, the remaining of my marathon paced workouts will be more consistently 6:40, because I need to know how that pace feels.

L and I made it out to DC by the evening of Friday, and had quite a good time staying with her friends L and T. Friday night, we went to a delicious and unassuming Ethiopian restaurant. On Saturday, we went through the Portrait Gallery, which was having a portrait competition, and wandered around the part of the city which was inundated with tourists and cherry trees about to bloom. We then went to the elite technical meeting and realized just how crazy our decision to start with the elites in the USATF National 10 mile championships really was. There were virtually no other sub-elite athletes who chose to start with the elite wave: everyone else seemed to know one another, and everyone looked like they were sponsored by various athletic companies (Adidas was well-represented, as was Nike and Mizuno; there were also people who were wearing shirts from some of the well-known distance teams from around the country, from Flagstaff, Boulder, and the like). This group of women were going to start 12 minutes before the elite men or the rest of the seeded runners. After the meeting, L and I stalked the list of competitors to try and figure out if any of the other early start women were going to be anywhere near our pace. We found 3 or 4 women who definitely were going to run 60 or slower, so we relaxed a little bit but were definitely nervous about running 10 miles alone, without watches or competition (Tim told us we should race, and not care about pacing). After some whole wheat pasta and delicious homemade sauce, we watched the first half of Without Limits to get Pumped UP. Any movie that has an actor depicting Steve Prefontaine being a total douche (but racing with serious guts) is enough to make me want to run hard. After all, "The best pace is a suicide pace, and today is a good day to die."

Morning of the race, I woke up feeling much more refreshed by 6 hours of sleep than I expected to feel. I ate a few pieces of white bread with some jam, and a banana. I drank a little gatorade while listening to some Pump Up music on my nifty little iPod, and waited for L to wake up and get ready. I was mentally ready. I could tell, though, that I'd overeaten the night before: I was feeling kind of bloated and heavy in my stomach region. I used the bathroom before leaving for our warmup jog/transportation to the start of the race, but the feeling didn't really go away.

We jogged to the mall and down it towards the GW memorial. We went into the elite tent and sat, nervously, for about 20 minutes. All the women seemed nervous, probably at least as much as we were, because they depend on their results for financial wellbeing and their notoriety. They all stretched and sat and guzzled water and waited to use the elite port-a-potties, just like we mere sub-elites did. They made the occasional joke to one another, changed clothes, and went back and forth between doing warmups and sitting, conserving their energy for the race ahead. The number of 6+ packs in that tent was truly amazing, on women and men alike. In fact, I actually think the most impressive set of abs I saw were female.

Eventually, after another couple of strides, it was time for them to lead us to the start line. We all jogged along to the line, did a few strides, and lined up. Without a warning, the horn was blown and we were off. L and I tucked in to the second group, the one that looked like sub-60 was their goal, rather than the first group, who wanted to win money and set records. The weather was beautiful, 45 and sunny, but windy. We came through the first mile in 5:55, the second at 11:55, the third at about 17:55 or 18:00. I felt good. My legs felt pretty ok, but not perfect, as I'd done 2 hard workouts that week before the race. I hit the 5k at about 18:35.

Somewhere between the 5k and the 4 mile mark, my stomach started cramping up in a signal of imminent intenstinal distress. I dropped back from the group, fairly sure that slowing by a few seconds a mile would allow me to avoid some of my stomach problems. I kept them in eyesight for the next mile (hit 5 miles at 31:00 and the 10k around 38:40). I worried that, as is easy to do when something goes awry physically, I'd give up mentally. After I let the group go a bit, I was totally and completely alone, and around the 5 mile mark, I found myself running into a strong headwind. At this point, my legs started complaining in earnest, and my stomach was more unhappy rather than less. I decided that I still really wanted to keep in the race, though, so I kept my eyes on the group and tried to focus on not losing more ground to them.

The course, at this point, was totally gorgeous. There were all the cherry trees with their blossoms, and the river surrounding the peninsula that we ran along looked really nice in the early morning light. This was also the windiest part of the course. At about 7 miles, I heard footsteps from behind me, and I knew they were the footsteps of 2 people running substantially sub-5:00 miles, so the first 2 men had caught me, even with my 12 minute head start. As they passed, I noticed the ease with which they seemed to take each stride, even 70% into their race distance, into the wind, leaving their future battle to later. They ran side-by-side, in lock-step. Neither one was drafting off the other (I'm not sure if one would allow the other to draft).

As I watched them run along ahead of me, I realized both they and I had only 3 more miles to go, and while I'd lost a bunch of time in that mile (I think I ran a 6:40ish 7th mile), I didn't want to give up completely. I picked up my legs a bit and tried to see what they had left in them. I hit 8 miles in 50:30. 2 more men passed me. I knew that running under 63 (the time I had needed to qualify for running in the elite heat) was going to be difficult at best. But I decided to push anyway. I didn't see the 9th mile marker, but the first 3 American runners passed me roughly where it probably was. I saw the 800m to go sign, and tried to put my legs in top gear. It seemed as though they were more or less maxed out, and while I was pushing with all my might, I don't think my pace actually increased too much. L and T (our hosts for the weekend), were at the 500 meter mark, when I tried again to push my legs up a notch. They obliged, slightly, but my stomach screamed with the increased speed. I buckled a bit and pulled back, deciding 5 seconds wasn't worth the continual abdominal agony. I saw the clock just as it read 62:55, when I still had the better part of 100 meters left. I ran through the finish in 63:11, not as fast as I'd wanted, but not horrendously off, either.

Given the circumstances, I was quite happy with my time, and knew a number of things I'd do differently next year. First, I think it would have been better to start with the normal seeded runners, rather than having a 12 minute head start. That way, I'd have had a bunch of people to draft off of and run with for the duration of the course, which probably cost me a good minute in the second half. Next,  and this is made more clear each time I race with stomach problems, I need to figure out what is bothering my stomach for racing, because I'm sick of my stomach holding me back from running at my potential. Finally, next year, I'm going to tell my coach it's really important to me that I race this more recovered than I was this year. I guess it's hard to balance mid-cycle racing with marathon training, but I think that avoiding Thursday's workout would have left me much fresher for Sunday.

How to hide your [running] addiction from your mother

So last week I was home for the weekend, during which time I was to run about 45 miles in 3 days. My mother and I have very different views on what constitutes an appropriate amount of exercise (or, more specifically, running). She's a big yoga freak, which, most of you know, is my least-favorite form of exercise of all time. As a general rule, she thinks I run too much. Which maybe I do. But mostly I think this judgment is unfounded on her part: she doesn't have any idea how many miles/hours I actually run, nor how healthy I am as a function of that running (mentally and physically). Anyway, here was the week's schedule:

M:  8 miles. Run uphill 4:00 at marathon HR; downhill at marathon pace
T: 8 AM/ 4 PM
W: 5 easy AM/ 3 mile progression + 3 x 1 mile @~6:20 pace (plus a warmup + cooldown)
Thursday: 6.5 easy
Friday: 12 mile progression. Not allowed to look at watch. Supposed to feel like MP towards the end
Saturday: 24 miles
Sunday: Skiing AM/ 8 miles PM


So there were several good things about this week. Running with Club NW on Wednesday was fun, even though I slightly modified my workout (6x1 mile) and theirs (4 mile progression) so I could run with them for awhile.

Steps to keeping your mother from thinking you run too much:

1. Surround the time you are home with all the running you can
-Thursday I left for home, so I just ran a few miles in the morning before catching my flight.

2. Make sure to leave after she's seen you in the morning, if you're going for a short run, so she doesn't overestimate an easy run
- On Friday, for example, I had some cereal and water and read the paper with her before she left for work and I went running with Brooke, a HS buddy. This allowed her to know that I didn't start running at 5 am and continue running all day.

3. On a long run day, maybe it's just best to leave before she gets up
-While this seems to contradict the previous bit of advice, if you actually are going running for 3+ hours, it may be best for her to not see you leave. Then she will have a very inaccurate estimate of how long you went running, so (if she doesn't assume 3 hours is even a conceivable amount of running) she definitely wouldn't think you could have possibly run for that long.

 4. Get a ride home from a friend (again, Brooke, thanks!) so you can excuse a bunch of the time you were gone as chit-chat and drive time. Better yet, get brunch!

The week was good: I made it through my highest mileage week ever (87 miles!) and was successful in all of my workouts. Running with Brooke on Friday and Saturday was nice: it was fun to run fast with someone fast and run far with someone who doesn't like running far :).

Also, some bad news. I have a broken sesamoid in my right foot. But, I have the official approval to run through it from Dr. MD (actually her initials), so I've bought some sesamoid pads and I'll ice the crap out of it for the next month and hope it feels better. I don't really know how I broke it, but I do know the pain isn't severe (it has been stiff and achy on and off since my fall marathon), so if it doesn't get worse I'll be fine to race in a month. Ugh. I'll post when I have more info/any useful updates.

Who knew it could snow in the rainforest?

This week was rather compressed for training, as B and I decided to go backpacking in the Hoh rainforest Saturday and Sunday. So, in a feat I wouldn't have thought possible, I packed 65 miles into 5 weekdays, and 59 miles into 4 in a row. My week:

Monday: 6 miles easy
Tuesday: 3 mile warmup, 7 miles at marathon pace by HR
Wednesday: 5 miles AM/ 3 mile warmup, 3.5 mile tempo, 15 minute jog, 5 x 45'' hill sprints, 2 mile cd
Thursday: 5 miles easy AM/ 5 miles easy PM
Friday: 21 miles. 13 easy, 3 fartleck marathon pace/7:30, 4 at MP effort (without looking at watch), CD
Saturday: 10 miles backpacking
Sunday: 10 miles backpacking

So, as you might imagine, this week beat me up a little bit. Tuesday's marathon heart-rate workout went really well, after I took off my tech tee (apparently, the combination of wind and tech material makes the heart-rate monitor freak out). I was to keep my HR between 155 and 165 for 5-7 miles, including a back-off on the pace as I tired. I felt really good! My splits were pretty consistently clustered around 6:40, which is goal marathon pace. It looks like 2:55 is going to be within reach at Eugene!

Wednesday, I went to work out with Club Northwest, The group to run with if you're a fast runner in Seattle. I had a nice tempo, where we ran 3.5 miles at about 6:08 pace on average (we were supposed to be more like 6:15, whoops!). After 15 minutes of jogging around, we headed over to do some hill sprints. Most of the hill workouts I've done this season have been at least 1:30 in length, so these all-out sprints were very tough for me. By the last one, I knew I'd be pretty busted for Thursday. It was fun to have some fun and fast people to run with; since I've been out on the West Coast, I've been hitting the Burke Gilman trail all alone.

On Friday, I was rather worried about my long run because my legs were still heavy and sore from Wednesday. For the first 12 miles, I ran out to Green Lake (a hilly 3 miles). Green Lake is a nice place to do some of a long run; there's a water fountain that's on year-round (unlike the water fountains in the rest of the city, that seem to be off for 9/12 of the year, even though it is never very cold here). Along the loop, there are at least 2 (maybe 3?) restrooms which seem to be open every time I go running. There are two paths, a paved one and a gravel one, around the lake, about 3 miles in length. Both are pretty flat. So, I often find myself making a couple of laps there so as to have easy water access (when I need to take a Gu). I ran 2 laps there on Friday, taking a Gu after the first, along with some water each time I passed the fountain. I ran back to the Burke Gilman trail after those two laps for the harder stuff; at that point I started doing roughly 1/2 mile pieces at marathon pace, with about a minute of 7:30 pace in between. After 3 miles of that, I turned around and did 4 miles of marathon effort work. I wasn't supposed to look at my watch much, but instead let the running flow. It was actually pretty fun. My first mile was 6:30, the next two were 6:40ish (there was some wind and they were slightly uphill, so 6:44 or something), and the last one was 6:18. I shuffled back home for one mile, showered, and rushed in to work for several highly unproductive meetings.

After work, B and I headed out to the Hoh Rainforest. We took a sweet ferry across the Puget Sound on our way. Saturday morning, we grabbed our backcountry permits and headed into the Hoh. The trail was beautiful; everything was covered in a thick blanket of green moss:

Here's a photo of me:

It rained on us for the first 5 or so miles. After that, the weather suddenly turned much colder, and the rain turned to snow. It didn't stick: everything was too wet to be frozen. I was grumgry (grumpy/hungry) around 6 miles, so we took a break to warm up and make some awesome freeze-dried food and warm up a bit. We found a sweet shelter:

called the "Happy Four Emergency Shelter". A plaque on it told us it was erected because a group of forest workers one summer got into a bit of a spat and wouldn't talk to one another and someone needed some "me time" so they built this shelter as a get-away. There were four of these workers, thus "Happy Four" became the name of the shelter.

I was in substantially better spirits after we did this, so we continued on past this shelter up to the Olympic Ranger station. On the way, B found a sweet newt that had a fluorescent orange belly. He picked it up even though he was pretty sure it was poisonous.


By the time we made it to the Ranger Station, we were pretty cold and wet. There was another shelter there, and since we hadn't really planned on the temperatures dropping into the 30s, we decided to pitch our tent inside that shelter rather than trying to find a piece of ground that wouldn't collect a large puddle under our tent if it rained/snowed all night. We made some dinner, and decided to hang out in our tent starting at about 5 pm, since it was much warmer than staying outside in the rain/snow.

 At around 7, we wandered out to find several inches of snow had managed to accumulate on the very wet ground. This was somewhat worrying: first, that meant it was way colder than we thought, given how wet and muddy the ground was, and second, the snow was still falling, and the trail was unblazed and unmarked, meaning that if everything was covered in snow, it might be hard to find our way back the next morning. But at that point, it was getting dark, so we decided there wasn't much to do other than hope the trail would still be visible in the morning, or at least that the Park Rangers would come looking for people when they realized how much snow had fallen later on Sunday.

So we went to sleep. About an hour later, B claims he told me that "There was someone outside. With a light" to which I responded "I love you, too", and rolled over in my sleeping bag to fall back asleep. A few minutes later, Byron said loudly, "Hello?", and another voice responded, "Hi." I sat straight up when I heard a voice I didn't recognize, and said, "Is everything ok? Do you need help?" I was rather freaked out about someone random showing up in our shelter unannounced, albeit I was still quite groggy and somewhat confused about the whole situation. He responded, "No." I continued to babble another couple of silly questions at the man to which he responded monosyllabically. I was definitely worried he might either steal our stuff or slit our throats while we were sleeping. B was clearly also concerned; he asked if I wanted him to go out and talk to the guy. I said he didn't have to, right before the random guy said "Is it ok if I sleep in here?" I was much less freaked out once he finally offered us some information as to what he was doing. We told him that was fine, and while he was out dealing with his bear bag, B looked out and saw the man did have a sleeping bag and some other camping equipment, so he at least looked like he had a legitimate reason for being there. We eventually fell back asleep.

The next morning, we got up after almost 13 hours in the tent, made some disgusting rehydrated eggs for breakfast, and headed out into the rain/snow. The trail had been so wet, the snow didn't bury it completely and we were able to follow it on the way out. There was a huge herd of Roosevelt Elk we ran into on the way out; we tried taking a picture but my camera was way too soggy to be of any real use. Our hike home was seriously fast: it took us about 3 hours to cover 9 miles. In the last quarter of a mile, the sky opened up and there was sun! I guess we picked the wrong day to be out in the afternoon, because the weather was much nicer as we drove home than it was at any point during our hike.

All in all, it was a fun week. I didn't run Sunday night when we got home; my legs were pretty heavy and I knew the week to come was going to be intense so I wanted to be well-rested. This is definitely the most I've run in such a short block (4 miles and almost 60 miles, that is).

I've also realized I only have 6 more weeks until Eugene, and only 3 until Cherry Blossom. I guess that means I only have a few more weeks of intense training before the taper... hopefully I'll be ready!