It's been a while since it's been boring like this:
16 October: 10 miles (80 minutes) at Loch Raven, on the trails
17 October: 1 mile (10 minutes) at Patterson Park
18 October: 2 miles (20 minutes) at APG
19 October: 5 miles (35 minutes) in the rain in Holly Woods off of Route 7, for whatever reason
20 October: 9 miles at APG (65 minutes), followed by a late-night 6 miles (45 minutes) in and around Patterson Park
21 October: 7+ miles (~70 minutes) through the Inner Harbor and back
22 October: 15-ish miles (~150 minutes) on the NCR Trail
Total Time: 475 minutes
Total Distance: 55 miles
So there, one goal accomplished: documentation of my daily mileage, which, for the past month, has been helter-skelter (the documentation more than the mileage), because I've been spending a lot more time and effort on "races" (or, in most cases, more accurately, "epic runs") to get it together enough to put this in my entries. I'd guesstimate minimally about 60 miles per week in previous weeks (based on race distances alone, it's unlikely that it would be much less), so this was a bit of a "slow" week for me, in the grand scheme of things.
So here comes the part where I say something deep, or wise, or whatever, as parting words to my 20s, since I turn 30 this coming Saturday (October 29th), in a big way, with back-to-back 50Ks (i.e. back-to-back races of 30-ish miles, as I've come to a point in my life where I'm more than happy to associate an "ish" with my age, lest I be confined or defined by a specific number). Halloweeny 50K (a "fatass" event, for which I will be wearing a surprise silly costume, pictures of which will no doubt end up on here) on Saturday, followed by Fire on the Mountain 50K on Sunday (a "serious" race, maybe - as serious as a race can be when one of the finishing requirements is to throw a branch on a fire).
And so, setting parentheses aside, and temporarily eschewing the complex sentence-splicing techniques that I'm admittedly too fond of, time to be clear and direct: Running has been good to me. I started running at age 13, and since then, I've never gone more than a month without putting on shorts and running shoes and hitting the trails or the streets for at least an easy mile or two. Since then, I've seen and done more crazy running-related things than I'd ever have the time or patience to type out in this blog, and had many a good time with friends along the way. It hasn't always been easy. It hasn't always been pretty. Sometimes, especially at the time, it hasn't been all that fun. But however it was, it's been a huge part of my life.
All of that relative pomp and circumstance aside, though, the thing that fascinates me the most about running is this: All I did, at least once each day for the majority of days over the past 17 years, was put on shorts and running shoes, and hit the streets or the trails for at least an easy mile or two. Put that way, it seems trivial, even inconsequential, especially at the time. But I've seen and done so much that's anything but trivial or inconsequential as a result that, over time, I've changed my view of the "trivial" and "inconsequential." Because this isn't about a journey of a thousand miles starting with a single step; this is about not even knowing that a single step will lead to a thousand-mile journey in the first place.
Or, less proverbially, life's most brilliant moments are apparently built on the mundane, the trivial, the inconsequential. There is always some sort of beauty hidden behind the boredom, waiting to be revealed by the perceptive and the patient.
I'd rather not skew further abstract than that, as I'd rather not come off overly poetic or pretentious about any of this. All I know is that 17 years later, I'm running hundreds of miles in remote wilderness, getting my picture in magazines, wearing silly belt buckles and climbing trash heaps in foreign lands, and none of that was part of a grand plan of mine. It all just happened, because I just happened to stick with something and endure a whole bunch of "whatever," with eyes wide open, to get to a whole bunch of "wow." And as long as my body will have it, I'll continue to endure and embrace the seemingly mundane, because it seems that good things really do come to those who are able to wait.
Also, having to do your business in the woods really gives you a new appreciation for toilets and modern plumbing. Truth.
Showing posts with label baltimore inner harbor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baltimore inner harbor. Show all posts
Monday, October 24, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Week in Review - 7-13 August 2011, and Semi-Shabbat Run Recap
It's that compelling list of numbers you've all been waiting for:
Sunday: 5 miles (35 minutes) on the east side, starting at 0630, then another 10 miles (70 minutes) after church on the west side
Monday: 15 miles (105 minutes) out to the Fed Hill Monday Night Run and back. Some of this was at upwards of low-to-mid 6-minute mile pace
Tuesday: 4 miles of treadmill hills (35 minutes, 1532 feet of gain), then drive to the Gilman Track for 2 miles of warmup, 5x300m @ 58 seconds (100m walk rest), 400m jog, 1x1100 (supposed to be 1500, but wasn't going well, so I stopped with a lap to go), 4 miles of barefoot running around the track, 2 more miles of warmdown (entire workout: about 60 minutes), then one more mile before bed for good measure (10 minutes)
Wednesday: Slow, lazy 2 miles (20 minutes)
Thursday: 4 miles of treadmill hills (35 minutes, 1615 feet of gain), then 15 miles around the Canton/Fells/Inner Harbor/Fed Hill area (105 minutes)
Friday: 8 miles (60 minutes) in the general vicinity of the Hopkins Homewood campus - feeling "whatever" about this, so I cut it short.
Saturday: 17 miles (120 minutes) out to Essex and back via Eastern Avenue, with detours of arbitrary interest thrown in here and there. Followed up with a very late night 9 miles (65 minutes) in a light rain around Canton/Fells/Inner Harbor.
Total Time: 720 minutes
Total Distance: 100 miles
In my last "real" week before Beast of Burden, I made it to 100 miles, although not without some figurative kicking and screaming. The last 9 miles were technically completed early Sunday morning, but since I was running from a little after 5 a.m. to a little after 6 a.m., and I didn't start logging miles for this week until 0630 on Sunday, this was technically within the 1-week window, and since 100-mile weeks are nothing if not a technicality, I'm counting it. (I ended up running another 4 miles later on Sunday, which will count towards this coming week.)
Of course, all of that obscures the real story, which is the 127-mile 7-day period from the previous Wednesday to the Tuesday described above. This was not at all on purpose, and it was only when I seemed to be tanking on Tuesday that I took a minute to count the miles, and realized that my volume was way over the top. This is the biggest 7-day period I've ever run that didn't include a race longer than 50K. The ragged last few days of this week are a testament to the aftermath of that, but I guess that's what happens when the dividing line between calendar weeks in no way constitutes a line of symmetry for your training.
Now, not that every run isn't an adventure in its own right, but seeing as to how, for the last couple of weeks, I've had a race on Saturday to carry on about ad nauseam on here, I needed to do something just for fun this week, not just for the sake of the blog (not hardly, really), but also (and mostly) to keep things fresh. I batted around a bunch of ideas, but when Saturday came around, the thing that made the most sense was a sort of running shabbat (thanks, Tel Aviv, for this great idea). Or, I would do whatever I wanted to do all day, run whenever I wanted, whatever I wanted, feel comfortable, and stop when I felt like I had enough.
So, in that spirit, I sat around for most of Saturday, eating cereal and watching King of the Hill and a documentary on the JFK assassination on Netflix. I listed to vicious thunderstorms pound on my skylights all afternoon. Finally, at around 7:30 p.m. (oddly enough, nearing sundown), I decided that it was time, and I headed off down Eastern Avenue, towards Essex.
The direction and destination of travel are relevant here, because they hearken back to the fall of 2008, just after I had met my former girlfriend and fiancee. Earlier this week, we broke up, and in some ways, it's been like a return to that fall (albeit a month early). There was a lot of beauty in that fall, and there was a lot of beauty in this running route, which I discovered that fall, and which I re-lived this weekend. For those of you who insist that beauty while running can be found only on a trail, I submit the following, taken on the bridge to Essex on Eastern Avenue:
Admittedly, man-made mayhem (such as this car crash that I saw on the way back) is a constant environmental hazard:
But man also makes some pretty cool stuff, like this fountain (be patient, and watch the whole thing, or skip to about 20 seconds in if you can't . . .):
So in the end, beauty is where you find it, but in order to find things, you have to look for them. You don't have to do much looking on the trail to find what typically passes for beauty. But in the city, you have to be open and adventurous and aware, because, for the most part, beauty doesn't just come up and smack you in the face (unless you consider being mugged a beautiful thing).
And sometimes, if you're looking hard enough, you find some really amazing stuff, like this mix CD I found on the run, containing, among its 18 unique tracks, "The Seed" (The Roots/Cody Chesnutt), "Sell Out" (Reel Big Fish), and "Otherside" (Red Hot Chili Peppers), twice:
Upon a few more runs through, I am now at least momentarily infatuated with Rise Against. :P
All things considered, it was a good run (both the literal one described above, and the relationship), and it's always sad when these things are relegated to memories. But then again, memories serve a purpose, too, and sometimes, that's where things need to be. Time to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and embrace whatever may come. :)
Sunday: 5 miles (35 minutes) on the east side, starting at 0630, then another 10 miles (70 minutes) after church on the west side
Monday: 15 miles (105 minutes) out to the Fed Hill Monday Night Run and back. Some of this was at upwards of low-to-mid 6-minute mile pace
Tuesday: 4 miles of treadmill hills (35 minutes, 1532 feet of gain), then drive to the Gilman Track for 2 miles of warmup, 5x300m @ 58 seconds (100m walk rest), 400m jog, 1x1100 (supposed to be 1500, but wasn't going well, so I stopped with a lap to go), 4 miles of barefoot running around the track, 2 more miles of warmdown (entire workout: about 60 minutes), then one more mile before bed for good measure (10 minutes)
Wednesday: Slow, lazy 2 miles (20 minutes)
Thursday: 4 miles of treadmill hills (35 minutes, 1615 feet of gain), then 15 miles around the Canton/Fells/Inner Harbor/Fed Hill area (105 minutes)
Friday: 8 miles (60 minutes) in the general vicinity of the Hopkins Homewood campus - feeling "whatever" about this, so I cut it short.
Saturday: 17 miles (120 minutes) out to Essex and back via Eastern Avenue, with detours of arbitrary interest thrown in here and there. Followed up with a very late night 9 miles (65 minutes) in a light rain around Canton/Fells/Inner Harbor.
Total Time: 720 minutes
Total Distance: 100 miles
In my last "real" week before Beast of Burden, I made it to 100 miles, although not without some figurative kicking and screaming. The last 9 miles were technically completed early Sunday morning, but since I was running from a little after 5 a.m. to a little after 6 a.m., and I didn't start logging miles for this week until 0630 on Sunday, this was technically within the 1-week window, and since 100-mile weeks are nothing if not a technicality, I'm counting it. (I ended up running another 4 miles later on Sunday, which will count towards this coming week.)
Of course, all of that obscures the real story, which is the 127-mile 7-day period from the previous Wednesday to the Tuesday described above. This was not at all on purpose, and it was only when I seemed to be tanking on Tuesday that I took a minute to count the miles, and realized that my volume was way over the top. This is the biggest 7-day period I've ever run that didn't include a race longer than 50K. The ragged last few days of this week are a testament to the aftermath of that, but I guess that's what happens when the dividing line between calendar weeks in no way constitutes a line of symmetry for your training.
Now, not that every run isn't an adventure in its own right, but seeing as to how, for the last couple of weeks, I've had a race on Saturday to carry on about ad nauseam on here, I needed to do something just for fun this week, not just for the sake of the blog (not hardly, really), but also (and mostly) to keep things fresh. I batted around a bunch of ideas, but when Saturday came around, the thing that made the most sense was a sort of running shabbat (thanks, Tel Aviv, for this great idea). Or, I would do whatever I wanted to do all day, run whenever I wanted, whatever I wanted, feel comfortable, and stop when I felt like I had enough.
So, in that spirit, I sat around for most of Saturday, eating cereal and watching King of the Hill and a documentary on the JFK assassination on Netflix. I listed to vicious thunderstorms pound on my skylights all afternoon. Finally, at around 7:30 p.m. (oddly enough, nearing sundown), I decided that it was time, and I headed off down Eastern Avenue, towards Essex.
The direction and destination of travel are relevant here, because they hearken back to the fall of 2008, just after I had met my former girlfriend and fiancee. Earlier this week, we broke up, and in some ways, it's been like a return to that fall (albeit a month early). There was a lot of beauty in that fall, and there was a lot of beauty in this running route, which I discovered that fall, and which I re-lived this weekend. For those of you who insist that beauty while running can be found only on a trail, I submit the following, taken on the bridge to Essex on Eastern Avenue:
Admittedly, man-made mayhem (such as this car crash that I saw on the way back) is a constant environmental hazard:
But man also makes some pretty cool stuff, like this fountain (be patient, and watch the whole thing, or skip to about 20 seconds in if you can't . . .):
So in the end, beauty is where you find it, but in order to find things, you have to look for them. You don't have to do much looking on the trail to find what typically passes for beauty. But in the city, you have to be open and adventurous and aware, because, for the most part, beauty doesn't just come up and smack you in the face (unless you consider being mugged a beautiful thing).
And sometimes, if you're looking hard enough, you find some really amazing stuff, like this mix CD I found on the run, containing, among its 18 unique tracks, "The Seed" (The Roots/Cody Chesnutt), "Sell Out" (Reel Big Fish), and "Otherside" (Red Hot Chili Peppers), twice:
Upon a few more runs through, I am now at least momentarily infatuated with Rise Against. :P
All things considered, it was a good run (both the literal one described above, and the relationship), and it's always sad when these things are relegated to memories. But then again, memories serve a purpose, too, and sometimes, that's where things need to be. Time to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and embrace whatever may come. :)
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Week in Review: 12-18 June 2011, and Anatomy of a 100-Mile Week a 100-Mile Week
Deep breath; here goes . . .
Sunday: 6 miles (45 minutes) Canton/Fells, early p.m., then 11 miles (75 minutes) fast-ish around Harbor East
Monday: 6 miles (45 minutes) at APG, hot car ride home, 11 more miles (80 minutes) out to the Fed Hill Run and back (but not with the Fed Hill run, since my timing was so far off . . .)
Tuesday: 5 miles at APG; 4 of those on the treadmill (hill program - 1438 feet of vertical in 35 minutes, plus another 10 minutes warmup/warmdown); hot car ride home, then 10 more around Patterson Park and such (70 minutes)
Wednesday: 1 very slow mile that wasn't very fun (10 minutes)
Thursday: 7 miles at APG; 20 minutes warmup/warmdown, plus another 35 minutes on the treadmill (hill program - 1459 feet of vertical), hot car ride, then 10 more from the Falls Road Running Store with fast people (65 minutes) after Baltimore 10-Miler packet pickup
Friday: 15 miles in the morning, around the Inner Harbor, up Fed Hill, and all that business (105 minutes)
Saturday: 6 miles to the start of the Baltimore 10-Miler, along Monument Street (45 minutes), Baltimore 10-Miler in 1:09:40 (pacing the 1:10 group with Keith McBride), then 6 miles home, carrying my silly Fila vest down Madison Avenue (45 minutes)
Total Time: 755 minutes
Total Distance: 102 miles
Normally, this is the part of the blog entry where I write my race report, but (without any disrespect to the Baltimore 10-Miler), the race wasn't a particularly epic experience (which is not to say that it wasn't fun, only that it wasn't a struggle to the finish that would make for a compelling read). But in short, the last two miles are difficult, but not a surprise, since you run them (downhill) on the way out, there were cold, wet towels and watermelon at the finish, two beer tickets for every runner (many of which were being diverted to a few runners trying to collect as many beer tickets as possible), and a band that opened their set with that Ramones song "Blitzkrieg Bop" and didn't bother to censor the lyrics. (Nobody seemed to be paying enough attention to care.) I had a lot of miles on my legs coming in, so I was a little worried about the uphill finish, and that, combined with most of the mile markers in the first half of the race being wrong, led to a first half that was slightly faster than pace, but it all worked out in the end. And, Fila "running vest."
Because that was a crummy race summary, I'm going to leave you with something a little more substantial: the anatomy of a 100-mile week. I may not speak for everybody else when I say this, but in a typical 100-mile week, accumulating mileage at a steady rate throughout the week (as opposed to running very little on some days, and "binging" on other days, particularly with long races), the thought process ends up being something like this:
Day 1 - 15 miles total - Wow, that was a solid day.
Day 2 - 30 miles total - Another great day; almost a third of the way there!
Day 3 - 45 miles total - Um . . . 3 days and I'm not even halfway there?
Day 4 - 60 miles total - Another day, and barely over halfway . . . this is distressing.
Day 5 - 75 miles total - Seriously, when does progress happen? 5 days, and 3/4ths of the way there?
Day 6 - 90 miles total - Okay, wow, that snuck up on me; now I'm almost at 100. And I only have to run 10 miles tomorrow!
Day 7 - 100 (or 105, or something) miles total - I did it! I feel great! And now . . . do it again next week?!?!?!?! Then again, on second thought, it doesn't sound quite so bad now . . .
Given the mind game involved in reaching 100 miles in a week, you may be wondering how anybody can deal with it, week after week. As it turns out (and as I type this, I already have 25 miles in for this coming week, in one day), it gets easier and easier the more frequently you do it. After a while, your body gets used to being in motion that often, and the mileage becomes strangely comforting. Once you find yourself running in the moment, and not thinking about your weekly total, you can fully submit to the task; you accept that, at any given moment of any day, you might be on your feet and running - through sunrise, sunset, rain, wind, sleet, snow, jeers, catcalls, noise, silence . . . and in this submission, there is a profound peace. (For me, anyway.)
And along those lines, given than running a lot of volume is a strategy for success, optimizing the payoff for the volume becomes a concern. After all, in order to run fast, you need to run fast. ;)
This is where an insight from an unlikely source has been guiding my training lately. A couple of weeks ago, when I was called for jury duty, in the excessive wait time, I was reading a book called "On Studying Singing" by Sergius Kagen (a faculty member at Julliard). The author makes a number of interesting points that seem strangely applicable to running, but one in particular stood out to me. Kagen claims (in slightly different words) that there is a certain element of futility in teaching somebody to sing better, because the actual skill cannot be taught directly. Instead, teachers must come up with metaphors and visualization tricks as guides to help students improve technique. These teaching methods act on the conscious mind, but this is only to steer the unconscious mind (which does all of the actual work) in the right direction.
In a way, running a lot of miles has this effect. Physiologically, yes, it strengthens the body, but subconsciously, it strengthens the mental faculties that enable a person to run quickly and efficiently. As usual, these variables are confounded, but I'm willing to go out on a limb and say that both aspects of running are equally important, and developing them in tandem has a synergistic effect on performance, yet most people focus only on the physical aspect of the sport. Most likely, most people have a fair amount of untapped potential as a result of this myopic view.
Or, you know, I could just be making up a bunch of stuff to fill up space. But it seems to be working for me . . .
Sunday: 6 miles (45 minutes) Canton/Fells, early p.m., then 11 miles (75 minutes) fast-ish around Harbor East
Monday: 6 miles (45 minutes) at APG, hot car ride home, 11 more miles (80 minutes) out to the Fed Hill Run and back (but not with the Fed Hill run, since my timing was so far off . . .)
Tuesday: 5 miles at APG; 4 of those on the treadmill (hill program - 1438 feet of vertical in 35 minutes, plus another 10 minutes warmup/warmdown); hot car ride home, then 10 more around Patterson Park and such (70 minutes)
Wednesday: 1 very slow mile that wasn't very fun (10 minutes)
Thursday: 7 miles at APG; 20 minutes warmup/warmdown, plus another 35 minutes on the treadmill (hill program - 1459 feet of vertical), hot car ride, then 10 more from the Falls Road Running Store with fast people (65 minutes) after Baltimore 10-Miler packet pickup
Friday: 15 miles in the morning, around the Inner Harbor, up Fed Hill, and all that business (105 minutes)
Saturday: 6 miles to the start of the Baltimore 10-Miler, along Monument Street (45 minutes), Baltimore 10-Miler in 1:09:40 (pacing the 1:10 group with Keith McBride), then 6 miles home, carrying my silly Fila vest down Madison Avenue (45 minutes)
Total Time: 755 minutes
Total Distance: 102 miles
Normally, this is the part of the blog entry where I write my race report, but (without any disrespect to the Baltimore 10-Miler), the race wasn't a particularly epic experience (which is not to say that it wasn't fun, only that it wasn't a struggle to the finish that would make for a compelling read). But in short, the last two miles are difficult, but not a surprise, since you run them (downhill) on the way out, there were cold, wet towels and watermelon at the finish, two beer tickets for every runner (many of which were being diverted to a few runners trying to collect as many beer tickets as possible), and a band that opened their set with that Ramones song "Blitzkrieg Bop" and didn't bother to censor the lyrics. (Nobody seemed to be paying enough attention to care.) I had a lot of miles on my legs coming in, so I was a little worried about the uphill finish, and that, combined with most of the mile markers in the first half of the race being wrong, led to a first half that was slightly faster than pace, but it all worked out in the end. And, Fila "running vest."
Because that was a crummy race summary, I'm going to leave you with something a little more substantial: the anatomy of a 100-mile week. I may not speak for everybody else when I say this, but in a typical 100-mile week, accumulating mileage at a steady rate throughout the week (as opposed to running very little on some days, and "binging" on other days, particularly with long races), the thought process ends up being something like this:
Day 1 - 15 miles total - Wow, that was a solid day.
Day 2 - 30 miles total - Another great day; almost a third of the way there!
Day 3 - 45 miles total - Um . . . 3 days and I'm not even halfway there?
Day 4 - 60 miles total - Another day, and barely over halfway . . . this is distressing.
Day 5 - 75 miles total - Seriously, when does progress happen? 5 days, and 3/4ths of the way there?
Day 6 - 90 miles total - Okay, wow, that snuck up on me; now I'm almost at 100. And I only have to run 10 miles tomorrow!
Day 7 - 100 (or 105, or something) miles total - I did it! I feel great! And now . . . do it again next week?!?!?!?! Then again, on second thought, it doesn't sound quite so bad now . . .
Given the mind game involved in reaching 100 miles in a week, you may be wondering how anybody can deal with it, week after week. As it turns out (and as I type this, I already have 25 miles in for this coming week, in one day), it gets easier and easier the more frequently you do it. After a while, your body gets used to being in motion that often, and the mileage becomes strangely comforting. Once you find yourself running in the moment, and not thinking about your weekly total, you can fully submit to the task; you accept that, at any given moment of any day, you might be on your feet and running - through sunrise, sunset, rain, wind, sleet, snow, jeers, catcalls, noise, silence . . . and in this submission, there is a profound peace. (For me, anyway.)
And along those lines, given than running a lot of volume is a strategy for success, optimizing the payoff for the volume becomes a concern. After all, in order to run fast, you need to run fast. ;)
This is where an insight from an unlikely source has been guiding my training lately. A couple of weeks ago, when I was called for jury duty, in the excessive wait time, I was reading a book called "On Studying Singing" by Sergius Kagen (a faculty member at Julliard). The author makes a number of interesting points that seem strangely applicable to running, but one in particular stood out to me. Kagen claims (in slightly different words) that there is a certain element of futility in teaching somebody to sing better, because the actual skill cannot be taught directly. Instead, teachers must come up with metaphors and visualization tricks as guides to help students improve technique. These teaching methods act on the conscious mind, but this is only to steer the unconscious mind (which does all of the actual work) in the right direction.
In a way, running a lot of miles has this effect. Physiologically, yes, it strengthens the body, but subconsciously, it strengthens the mental faculties that enable a person to run quickly and efficiently. As usual, these variables are confounded, but I'm willing to go out on a limb and say that both aspects of running are equally important, and developing them in tandem has a synergistic effect on performance, yet most people focus only on the physical aspect of the sport. Most likely, most people have a fair amount of untapped potential as a result of this myopic view.
Or, you know, I could just be making up a bunch of stuff to fill up space. But it seems to be working for me . . .
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Week in Review: 22-28 May - Calm Before the Storm
For whatever reason, my recollection of the week that is the subject of this blog post is particularly fuzzy. Here's my best attempt at a re-construction:
22 May: 12 miles, in and around Patterson Park (100 minutes)
23 May: 8 miles, 3 of which were treadmill hill work (60 minutes)
24 May: 1 mile (10 minutes)
25 May: 6 miles, 3 of which were treadmill hill work (45 minutes)
26 May: 9 miles (70 minutes), in and around the Inner Harbor
27 May: 1 mile (10 minutes)
28 May: 20 miles, around the Inner Harbor, out to Homewood and back (155 minutes)
Total time: 450 minutes
Total distance: 56 miles
I sat on this post for a while, because I wasn't really sure what to think about this week of contradictions . . .
On the one hand, this was my lowest-volume week in quite a while. On the other hand, it included two of the highest-intensity treadmill workouts.
On the one hand, I had two nearly "off" days. On the other hand, I had my longest continuous road run (20 miles) since the Kentucky Derby Marathon at the end of April.
On the one hand, getting "up for the game" before and during every run seemed extremely difficult. On the other hand, afterwards, every run felt like no big deal.
On the one hand, nearly every mile seemed more painful and laborious than any of the miles I've run so far in 2011. On the other hand, the trend towards the end of the week was towards slightly less painful.
I think that my success so far this year is due at least in part to framing the effects of my training appropriately, and moving forward from that frame of reference. In less abstract words, I've been doing a better job this year figuring out exactly how spent I am from the training that I've done, and what level of training makes the most sense going forward. The context for this week is the most ambiguous yet, but here's my attempt to make sense of it:
MMT, as my first 100-mile race in a long time, was rougher on me than I thought. The physical and mental fatigue from the race were still lingering during this week, but I was recovering gradually nonetheless. The lower training volume was a natural consequence of the recovery process, but is not necessarily an indication that I'm "burned out" from the first half of the year, as evidenced by the fact that later in the week, I seemed to be running in less pain.
This weekend, the Old Dominion 100-Mile Run and the Bel Air Town Run 5K (a.k.a. my grand, ridiculous adventure) should be a much better indicator of whether or not that assessment is accurate. I won't make predictions here about how I think these will turn out, except to say that if I've assessed things correctly, the recovery process should be nearly complete by this weekend - just in time for another round. If not, well . . . it could be a long couple of days. But in either case, I'm excited about doing this classic-race double for the first time, and have no doubt that it will make for a far more memorable experience than this past training week.
22 May: 12 miles, in and around Patterson Park (100 minutes)
23 May: 8 miles, 3 of which were treadmill hill work (60 minutes)
24 May: 1 mile (10 minutes)
25 May: 6 miles, 3 of which were treadmill hill work (45 minutes)
26 May: 9 miles (70 minutes), in and around the Inner Harbor
27 May: 1 mile (10 minutes)
28 May: 20 miles, around the Inner Harbor, out to Homewood and back (155 minutes)
Total time: 450 minutes
Total distance: 56 miles
I sat on this post for a while, because I wasn't really sure what to think about this week of contradictions . . .
On the one hand, this was my lowest-volume week in quite a while. On the other hand, it included two of the highest-intensity treadmill workouts.
On the one hand, I had two nearly "off" days. On the other hand, I had my longest continuous road run (20 miles) since the Kentucky Derby Marathon at the end of April.
On the one hand, getting "up for the game" before and during every run seemed extremely difficult. On the other hand, afterwards, every run felt like no big deal.
On the one hand, nearly every mile seemed more painful and laborious than any of the miles I've run so far in 2011. On the other hand, the trend towards the end of the week was towards slightly less painful.
I think that my success so far this year is due at least in part to framing the effects of my training appropriately, and moving forward from that frame of reference. In less abstract words, I've been doing a better job this year figuring out exactly how spent I am from the training that I've done, and what level of training makes the most sense going forward. The context for this week is the most ambiguous yet, but here's my attempt to make sense of it:
MMT, as my first 100-mile race in a long time, was rougher on me than I thought. The physical and mental fatigue from the race were still lingering during this week, but I was recovering gradually nonetheless. The lower training volume was a natural consequence of the recovery process, but is not necessarily an indication that I'm "burned out" from the first half of the year, as evidenced by the fact that later in the week, I seemed to be running in less pain.
This weekend, the Old Dominion 100-Mile Run and the Bel Air Town Run 5K (a.k.a. my grand, ridiculous adventure) should be a much better indicator of whether or not that assessment is accurate. I won't make predictions here about how I think these will turn out, except to say that if I've assessed things correctly, the recovery process should be nearly complete by this weekend - just in time for another round. If not, well . . . it could be a long couple of days. But in either case, I'm excited about doing this classic-race double for the first time, and have no doubt that it will make for a far more memorable experience than this past training week.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Week in Review: 27 March - 2 April
This will be (for once) a relatively short update, as this was sort of a "down" week, in the sense that I didn't run a major race that I could subsequently carry on about for thousands of words. Instead, the (relatively) terse summary of my training:
27 March: 11 miles (77 minutes); the traditional post-race recovery run around Canton/Fells/Inner Harbor.
28 March: 13 miles (91 minutes); attempted to catch the end of the Fed Hill run, but nobody was running back my way, so I detoured uphill through Mt. Vernon and back down dark scary Monument Street.
29 March: 6 miles (42 minutes) as a TNT "warmup" at APG. Another 9 miles (65 minutes) at TNT, including a set of 3x(4x(400 m fast, 200 m jog rest), 400 m jog rest), with 400s in 82, 83, 83, 84, 84, 84, 84, 84, 84, 82, 81, 76 (oops). Based on the last one, maybe should have been running the whole workout less conservatively.
30 March: 10 miles (72 minutes) at APG, including some stupid-silly off-trail steep-grade-in-the-woods running in honor of the upcoming Barkley Marathons, followed up by another 8 miles (58 minutes) with the Wednesday night Canton run crew.
31 March: 8 miles (55 minutes) on a run around Harford Community College that started like garbage but ended up fast.
1 April: More garbage? Split run, 7 miles (50 minutes) in the rainy, ambivalent morning gray in Fells, then 10 more miles (70 minutes) on a similar route in the evening, when it was slightly warmer and brighter. A few intermittent fast sections in there.
2 April: Long(ish) 120 minutes (conservatively, 16 miles) at Loch Raven, on trails. This was uncharacteristically beautiful and fun, in spite of the gray, spitting rain.
Total time: 700 minutes (exactly)
Total distance: 98 (inexactly)
I was not keeping very close track of my mileage during the week, but I felt like I was running a lot of miles. And now that I've actually bothered to add it up, apparently I was, coming very close to that magical 100-mile week mark.
So maybe some meditations on the 100-mile week are in order. On the one hand, when I stop to think about it (which I try not to do), it seems like an awful lot of running. On the other hand, when it comes time to actually do my run, once I get over the fear that this might be the run where I crash, it feels entirely natural to be in motion for an hour, or an hour and a half, or however long my run is supposed to be. And especially since this past Wednesday, running has felt very, very pleasant, normal, and even a little euphoric towards the end of each session. Maybe that's the magic of the 100-mile week - it's the threshold at which one more mile becomes more pleasure than pain. Or maybe it's just me.
Another thing about a 100-mile week is that it gives you a lot of time by yourself, with your thoughts (so hopefully they're not stupid and boring). I could also use this space to carry on about the thoughts I've had while running this past week, but it's getting late, and there's more running that needs to happen tomorrow, so, for now, I'll keep them to myself. But if one of them keeps on catching my fancy, I may just drop some science on that in a day or two. Until then, I'll keep on riding this wave and continue to hope that it never crashes.
27 March: 11 miles (77 minutes); the traditional post-race recovery run around Canton/Fells/Inner Harbor.
28 March: 13 miles (91 minutes); attempted to catch the end of the Fed Hill run, but nobody was running back my way, so I detoured uphill through Mt. Vernon and back down dark scary Monument Street.
29 March: 6 miles (42 minutes) as a TNT "warmup" at APG. Another 9 miles (65 minutes) at TNT, including a set of 3x(4x(400 m fast, 200 m jog rest), 400 m jog rest), with 400s in 82, 83, 83, 84, 84, 84, 84, 84, 84, 82, 81, 76 (oops). Based on the last one, maybe should have been running the whole workout less conservatively.
30 March: 10 miles (72 minutes) at APG, including some stupid-silly off-trail steep-grade-in-the-woods running in honor of the upcoming Barkley Marathons, followed up by another 8 miles (58 minutes) with the Wednesday night Canton run crew.
31 March: 8 miles (55 minutes) on a run around Harford Community College that started like garbage but ended up fast.
1 April: More garbage? Split run, 7 miles (50 minutes) in the rainy, ambivalent morning gray in Fells, then 10 more miles (70 minutes) on a similar route in the evening, when it was slightly warmer and brighter. A few intermittent fast sections in there.
2 April: Long(ish) 120 minutes (conservatively, 16 miles) at Loch Raven, on trails. This was uncharacteristically beautiful and fun, in spite of the gray, spitting rain.
Total time: 700 minutes (exactly)
Total distance: 98 (inexactly)
I was not keeping very close track of my mileage during the week, but I felt like I was running a lot of miles. And now that I've actually bothered to add it up, apparently I was, coming very close to that magical 100-mile week mark.
So maybe some meditations on the 100-mile week are in order. On the one hand, when I stop to think about it (which I try not to do), it seems like an awful lot of running. On the other hand, when it comes time to actually do my run, once I get over the fear that this might be the run where I crash, it feels entirely natural to be in motion for an hour, or an hour and a half, or however long my run is supposed to be. And especially since this past Wednesday, running has felt very, very pleasant, normal, and even a little euphoric towards the end of each session. Maybe that's the magic of the 100-mile week - it's the threshold at which one more mile becomes more pleasure than pain. Or maybe it's just me.
Another thing about a 100-mile week is that it gives you a lot of time by yourself, with your thoughts (so hopefully they're not stupid and boring). I could also use this space to carry on about the thoughts I've had while running this past week, but it's getting late, and there's more running that needs to happen tomorrow, so, for now, I'll keep them to myself. But if one of them keeps on catching my fancy, I may just drop some science on that in a day or two. Until then, I'll keep on riding this wave and continue to hope that it never crashes.
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