Back On The Horse

So, I've decided to continue this blog. You're welcome, dear reader(s).

After taking it rather easy during 0 week (immediately following the marathon), I've hit the road again with the goal of running another marathon in the spring. Additionally, I'm determined to finish in under 3:20. This is an ambitious goal. And it will be extra hard for a person who is carrying around many extra pounds of fat. However, it'll keep me motivated.

0 week was surprisingly painless. There was tightness and soreness on Monday and Tuesday. Stairs were a struggle. By Thursday, I felt fine. I am fairly insensitive to aches and pains, so there was likely some low-level pain that I was ignoring. Still, by Friday, I was anxious to tie on the old jogging shoes to see how my legs held up. A light, 2-miler proved invigorating and rather painless.

The weekend saw a couple more light runs: 3 on Saturday and 5 on Sunday. Nothing strenuous. No pain at all. This Hal Higdon guy sure seems to know what he's talking about.

I've now entered HH's Post-Marathon Recovery Guide Week 1. Having moved myself into the "Advanced" bracket, I will now be introducing speed work, including tempo runs and repeats. Thanks to Google maps, I have been able to mark off a nice 400m track right along the river. After a 1.1 mile warm-up jog from home to the river, I can stretch, run the repeats, then warm-down on the 1.1 mile jog back.

I may be jumping the gun a bit with the advanced training, but I've identified a real need for goal setting and would be rather bored with another similar 18 week program. The introduction of speedwork will make the whole routine more exciting and, hopefully, satiate any competitive drive I might develop.

In any case, today's run included the 1.1 warm-up jog, then 4 x 400m repeats along the river, each book ending a 3-5 minute slow jog or walk. A couple of young skateboarders and a police officer (parked in his car and intermittently napping and eating) watched me as I ran, then walked, then ran, then walked. I had not realized that my self-classification as an advanced runner would bring with it my first fans, but I was delighted to have them. I'm pretty sure the skateboarders snapped some iphone video footage of me and I will undoubtedly show up on youtube as "fat, running douche bag with orange-tinted sunglasses who runs in circles, narrowly missing a jig-lift crane. twice." Stay tuned for that.

I'm hoping to schedule a race for the end of week 4 of the post marathon program. And will definitely try to do a turkey trot like thing on Thanksgiving morning (in order to grant myself license to gorge later in the day - while watching "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" for the thirtieth time in 2 days and listening to Guaraldi's holiday record - and not feel bad about it).

Just Another Long Run

First off, my condolences to EP and family who lost a matriarch this past week. Having experienced a similar loss 10 years ago, I can say with a great deal of certainty that, although a person may be corporeally inaccessible, her influence and wisdom tend to exhibit an incalculably long half life.

Yesterday's long run covered roughly 26 miles, 385 yards, which qualified as my longest run ever. The pre-run dinner I described in my past post proved to be mildly disastrous. Lesson to any reader who may be considering a marathon: avoid the turkey sausage on the eve of a marathon. There are times in which it is appropriate to experiment with wild fowl forcemeat. The night before a marathon is not of these times.

Following is a synopsis of the race day:

1. 6:15: Awoke, drank two large glasses of water and prepared a bowl of oatmeal


2. 6:25: Waited near the bathroom for nature to run its course


3. 6:35: Waited longer (see 2) before eating oatmeal


4. 6:50: Upon waiting an inordinate amount of time, I decided to scrap the oatmeal and head out to find some coffee. Desperate times call for desperate measures. And these times were "McDonald's Desperate"


5. 7:05: Ordered pancakes, orange juice and black coffee at McDonald's. Enjoyed the pancakes alongside a rag tag bunch of hobos, bindlestiffs and ragamuffins (comrades of whom would make an appearance later in the day)


6. 7:20: No movement on the natural front. Panic was starting to set in. Departed McDonald's to head to race site


7. 7:35: Arrived at race site, Louisville's Water Tower on the Ohio River. Folks were wildly negotiating adjacent fields to illegally park and avoid having to walk any distance at all. Apparently, as a force of habit, they were seeking the prime spot at the Walmart parking lot. Ironically, each of these lazy fucks was about to run/walk either 13.1 or 26.2 miles. Have I mentioned that I harbor less-than-pleasant feelings about the mental and physical habits of people in these parts (even those who are active enough to participate in a foot race)?


8. 7:40: Avoided the mess of illegal parkers and found a parking spot at Cox park (pronounced, inexplicably as COCKSIZ park) about 1/2 mile from the race site


9. 7:50: Arrived at starting line. Still waiting for some movement (see 2)


10. 8:10: Someone fires a gun. People start running. I follow


11. 8:15: First accessible bathroom (at Cocksiz Park) becomes visible. At this point, I feel a significant pressure change within my abdomen. Terrible gears start to turn. An intestinal doomsday machine has been irreversibly engaged. Forces beyond my comprehension are set into action. I make a bee line to the bathroom and enter the last stall on the right, thinking (like the parking situation earlier) that no one will think to approach the remotest spot. Bizarrely, I was wrong


12. 8:20: (Discontinue reading if you are uncomfortable with the human I/O process or thermodynamics) Ever heard of a water hammer? Before I met my wife, who once worked with nuke-uh-lur power plant cooling systems, I had not. Actually, the more general term is fluid hammer. In short, a fluid hammer is a pressure surge that occurs when moving fluid experiences a sudden change in momentum, like when a dam breaks. I become physically acquainted with the phenomenon while huddling in the last stall on the right. Unfortunately, so did a constant parade of fellow runners. Since the stall was missing a lock, no fewer than 5 men became acquainted with the concept of the fluid hammer. I lost ~ 5 minutes in that bathroom. Things were getting off to a great start
13. 8:25: After that lesson in thermodynamics, I got back out on the course and continued on, feeling somewhat relieved. At that point, I was stuck in a large crowd of walkers and slow runners. I focused my energy on passing the herd.
14. 8:55: As I slowly put the walkers and slow runner behind me, my attention was again shifted to my gut, where more dark machinations were taking place. Since I was very familiar with much of the course, I determined that the river front park, right around mile 6, would offer a bank of public restrooms. I set my sights on mile 6 and kept on keeping.
15. 9:05: As I arrived at the river front park, I veered off course to the bank of restrooms. Unfortunately these were all locked. In front of them, though, was a cache of porto-o-lets, or port-o-johns, or plexi-johns or plastic shitters that had been freshly installed to serve the participants in the Hunger Walk (an event to take place downtown later in the day). While I was disappointed to be forced to enter a johnny-house, I was somewhat delighted to find that I was the first to enjoy its amenities since its installation. I ratcheted up the volume on my ipod and tuned out the other details of my visit. However, I began to hear the distinct sounds of voices coming from just behind me. I paused the iPod and heard male voices that seemed to be coming from inside the crap-o-let septic tank, or worse, inside my own septic tank. Upon closer examination, I determined that the voices were in fact narrating the goings on inside the johnny cabin. After several unpleasant minutes, I emerged to find 3 tramps staning just outside, about 4 yards away. They were laughingly uproariously. As I ran past, they implored me to discontinue my run. Clearly, they were concerned with my well-being, but I was not to be deterred.
16. 10:05: From the debacle at the riverfront to the half-way point, I passed 0 more toilets, so I was forced to endure the wrath of the turkey sauasage. Although the pain was waning, it was still clear that the evil had not yet worked its way out. I knew that I would soon be passing through Chikasaw Park and that the grounds hosted a fine, early 20th century carriage house that had been converted into a bathroom. Fortunately, no other runners knew about this landmark. And more surprisingly, it seemed bereft of Okies and nogoodniks. It was at this place where I finally exorcised the demons.
    
17. 10:15: With my stomach feeling better and a pocketful of gels and Sharkies, I marched on towards the finish and focused on replenishing any energy spent through metabolism or exorcism.
18. 10:45: At about the 19 mile check point, I was approached by a young man who was bounding along at a good clip. We began to chat a bit and matched pace for about 3 miles. After about a mile of running together, it occurred to me that this young man's name could only be Chris. Upon parting ways at mile 23, I extended my hand and said something like "good to meet you Chris and good luck with the final 3 miles, I'm going to go ahead to see if I can find a finish line somewhere." To which he responded, with a puzzled look, how did you know my name was "Chris?" And it was a good question. I think the evil that had taken hold of me earlier in the morning left me with a bit of clairvoyance.
    
19. 11:20: At the 23 mile check point, I decided to pick up the pace a bit. I knew I wasn't going to come anywhere close to my goal of 3:20, but knew I had something left in the tank (thanks to 2 gels and a pouch of sharkies).
    
20. 11:35: As I approached the 25 mile checkpoint, the course grew lonely. There was an older man (probably in his 50s) about 30 yards ahead, but I was unable to catch him at first. Still, I dug in and accellerated a bit. The man at the final fluid station handed me a water and a cup of sports drink. I attempted to slow to deposit the cup and bottle in a garbage bags, but my legs sort of swayed uncontrollably and I nearly lost my footing. The man near the garbage bag instructed me to focus on getting to the finish line. I heeded his advice.
21. 11:40: I began passing a few more folks in the final half mile. A young woman smiled and waved and wished me luck, to which I responded "Same, um, uh...to luck to you too," which makes little sense , but hopefully expressed my enthusiasm for her potential finish.
    
22. 11:44: As the finish line drew near, I fought the dull pain in my quadriceps and bounded down the slight incline towards the finishing chute. Upon passing the line, a man appeared asking for the microchip strapped onto my ankle. As I bent down to detach it, he yelped, imploring me to stand and allow him to do it. As I nearly buckled upon standing back up, I realized that his advice was sensible.
    

So, that was about it. An eventful morning. I milled about after the race for a bit. I cheered on the Chris fellow, ate a banana, drank some water, Heed (the official energy drink of the race, which tastes like water filtered through vanilla cake icing)and Jackson's Organic coffee, then began the long walk to my car. While my legs were a bit burny and sore, the walk was a good stretching opportunity.

The rest of the day was pleasant and involved a brunch at Lynn's Paradise Cafe (biscuits and gravy and grits) and a 3 hour nap.

Today (the day after) has been fine as well. I'm struggling a bit with stairs, getting in and out of chairs. However, each pain response is accompanied by a tinge of pride for having run 26.2 miles.

I've already started to plan out my 0-week plan, my 4-week recovery plan and my next marathon. Mentally, I'm ready to go. On Saturday, 25 April 2009, I plan to run the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon in under 3 hours and 20 minutes. It's an ambitious goal, but I plan to take advantage of hill work, tempo workouts, fartleks, interval training and, hopefully, some white magic.

The Final Countdown

9 hours until the marathon. At this point, I'm really hoping to just finish the race as all that is left now is the dotting of i's and crossing of t's. Hopefully, my training will prove sufficient to get me through the entire race. I'll know soon enough.

I enjoyed a large dinner consisting of angel hair pasta with sauteed squash and roasted sweet potatoes. Hopefully I won't regret that tomorrow morning.

My breakfast plans are not yet confirmed, but will likely involve some toast, maybe a granola bar, a handful of Crispix? Not really sure how I'll eat as I am sure my stomach will be a bit nervous (being unaccustomed to being awake at 6:30am).

I'll be bringing along several gels, some energy gummies and some Jelly Belly Sport Beans to be downed 30 minutes or so before the race.

So, this is it. I'll check back in if I survive the race.

Change of Course

The 2008 Louisville Marathon has officially changed course. I have no idea why, but I'm guessing it has something to do with an inability to acquire permits to shut down Third St. No big deal. The new course is the old course. Aside from not passing through Iroqouis Park, this route is better:



PS: No run today. 2 miles tomorrow. I just polished off 1/3 of a thing of candy beans. I'm beginning to think that the beans were a bad idea.

Drama Queens

The title of this post refers to baseball's favorite team: The Boston Red Sox. The Sox of this millenia seem to have a way of backing themselves into a corner during the ALCS. This year is no exception. I had held out some hope that Daisuke would get them back on track. Not so much. I gave up on the game by the third inning.

Imagine my surprise when, after having given up on the 2008 Red Sox, I got into my car to hear the radio announce that the game was tied 7-7 in the bottom of the ninth. I spent the next 20 minutes or so driving around, eating candy beans and waiting for the 10th, so the B.J. Upton and Evan Longoria could go back-to-back and end the season for Boston. Strangely, J.D. Drew managed to end the game in regulation with a line drive that scored Kevin Youkilis. There is hope again in Boston. And if the past two championships are any indication, this is exactly where The Sox like to be (backed up against a wall in the ALCS).

3 miles at the crisp gloaming this eve. 2 more miles on Saturday, then 26.2 on Sunday. I had been worrying that the heat would be a problem on race day. Fortunately, autumn temperatures have finally descended upon us. In fact, I enjoyed my first campfire (campless) of the season this night.

Sox In Trouble

Top of the sixth inning in game 4 of the ALCS. Rays are up 9-1 and will likely continue to pile on the runs. Apparently, starting pitching counts. Statistically, Tim Wakefield is a reliable pitcher, however, he doesn't seem to perform well on national television. Perhaps that's an understatement. Wakefield was awful tonight. He started off strong with a strikeout, but then proceeded to issue a walk, then back-to-back home runs. The trend continued.

So, unless the Red Sox have another miraculous, '04-like or '07-like ALCS run in them, Tampa Bay will continue on to The World Series. This Rays team is stunningly good.

Today's run was a quick 4.4-miler. It occurred to me, while running, that the disappearance of my motivation corresponded with the failure of the Nike Plus. It's hard to overstate the awesomeness of Nike Plus. I miss it terribly. Unfortunately, I won't get it back until I spring for a new iPod. I've tried everything with the current iPod, but it just won't communicate with the sensor.

Pasta with freshly roasted green chile, sauteed eggplant and zucchini for dinner. I'm going to focus on carbohydrates and vegetables for the rest of the week. Hopefully, I'll get my glycogen levels to where they need to be in time for the race.

The Real Taper Begins

Today's run covered 11 miles, the last run of a significant distance before the race. With an average temperature of 85 degrees, conditions were not ideal for today's run. Having overindulged a bit at yesterday's wedding did not help matters. However, I managed to compete the run in a fairly respectable amount of time. The Riverwalk was abuzz with revelers, which made the run a bit more fun.

I'm beginning to think that an 18 week conditioning program is too long. I feel as if my condition peaked a few weeks ago. At least, my motivation peaked a few weeks ago. At this point, I'm really itching to run the marathon. Perhaps I should have scheduled a half marathon to get the competitive juices flowing. Those wiser than I have apparently had luck with that strategy. Or is it a tactic?

A 20 lb. box of Hatch green chiles showed up this weekend. 15 lbs. of them have been roasted, packaged and are queuing up before the freezer. Once they cool, they'll be placed in the freezer to be called upon throughout the year. There are few edible things that don't benefit from the addition of the Hatch green chile. Although it's late (1am), the house (and likely the entire building) is filled with the glorious, autumnal scent of roasted, caramelized chile skin. I think I'm going to have to go whip something up. Something carb-y. I believe it's time that I start introducing more solid carbs into the diet.