I realize this post is coming late; I wanted to wait until I could confirm a little bit more of my "fall preview" before I posted. So, with minimal ado, first, here was what my last week of running looked like:
Sunday: 1 mile easy (10 minutes); post-BoB shakeout at Patterson Park
Monday: 15 miles (110 minutes), out to the Fed Hill group run and back, meandering here and there to make up miles.
Tuesday: 1 mile warmup/warmdown (10 minutes), with 4 miles of treadmill hills (35 minutes, 1615 feet of gain) in the middle
Wednesday: 10 miles (70 minutes), along with the Wednesday Night Canton Run crew
Thursday: 1 mile warmup/warmdown (10 minutes), with 4 miles of treadmill hills (35 minutes, 1658 feet of gain) in the middle, followed later by 15 miles (110 minutes) of hilly running on York Road towards Towson, followed by pontificating about ultrarunning over a Slurpee to a stranger in a 7-11 parking lot
Friday: 13 miles (95 minutes) "early" morning, around the Inner Harbor/Fed Hill; later, 6 miles easy (60 minutes) around Patterson Park/Canton
Saturday: 7 miles pre-hurricane-Irene (50 minutes), out to Hopkins Bayview and back, and that felt like enough.
Total Time: 640 minutes
Total Distance: 77 miles
All of which leads me to an interesting point about this past week, before I move on with the aforementioned fall preview. If you replace this past Saturday with the Saturday prior (when I ran Beast of Burden), my 7-day miles over that period total 177, which, as far as I know, is a new high for me. Funny what a difference a day makes, because otherwise, it sounds like I had a sub-par 77-mile week. Just more evidence that 100 miles per week is pretty arbitrary (but at the same time, not something that will convince me to change my strategy as far as that's concerned).
Okay, finally, on with what I REALLY want to write about, which is my schedule for this fall. If you've been following this blog at all, you know that I've had probably more than my fair share of failures in the fall. This is partially due to my typical training cycle (which tends to lead to a mid-to-late summer peak), combined with the fact that, for whatever reason, fall seems to be an emotionally difficult time for me. From where I am now, though, I think that my training has been consistent enough throughout the year to put up some good performances this fall, and emotionally, well, as far as I can tell, things are at least trending better. This weekend kicks off what I'm calling the "Fall 2011 Redemption Series," where I attempt to take on every race over the past couple of years that's gone poorly for me, all in one season, and at least better my previous attempt (if not be very competitive, depending on the race). It all starts this weekend, and goes down something like this:
3-4 September - The Ring (http://www.vhtrc.org/news/theRing) - a 71-mile circuit around the Massanutten Mountains on the "orange" trail. Last time: I got lost and didn't finish.
9-10 September - pacer, Wasatch Front 100 Mile Endurance Run (http://www.wasatch100.com/) - Along for the ride as motivator, photographer, and companion, as Dave Snipes runs the final race in the 2011 Grand Slam of Ultrarunning.
17-18 September - North Coast 24-Hour Endurance Run (http://www.northcoast24.org/) - US 24-Hour National Championship Race; enough said. Last time: Stopped at about 50 miles, due to sore feet and general burnout.
24-25 September - SURPRISE (I'm still toying with a few things here, but I promise it will be awesome, whatever it is.)
1-2 October - Another wild card. (If 24-25 September is a bust, maybe this one will be something cool instead.)
7-8 October - Grindstone 100 (http://www.eco-xsports.com/events/grindstone/) - Debatably the hardest 100-mile race on the east coast. Last time: Stopped at around 25 miles, due to everything was wrong.
15 October - Baltimore Marathon (pacing 3:20) - Support the hometown race. :)
22-23 October - Wild Card #3. Surely something fun will come along . . . ;)
29-30 October - Halloweeny 50K (http://www.vhtrc.org/news/node/379) and Fire on the Mountain 50K (http://www.phdispatch.com/FireontheMountain50K.html) - Because 30 is a big age (maybe), celebrating twice on my birthday weekend, with two races that are just over 30 miles.
5-6 November - Wild Card, part 4.
12 November - Richmond Marathon (pacing 3:10) - Because really, why not?
19-20 November - Hmm . . . let's make this one a Wild Card for now, too. ;)
26-27 November - Tamest wild card of the bunch; seems to be a quiet weekend in general.
3-4 December - Wild card, at the moment. ;)
10-11 December - Hellgate 100K (http://www.extremeultrarunning.com/) - That 66.6-mile race that starts at midnight. Last time: Did not finish due to all sorts of problems.
Rest of 2011 - "Off" (maybe . . . ;) )
I think the above schedule (which, of course, is subject to change, and has a fair amount of change built in, anyway) ensures that I hit all of the major races (save Oil Creek, which, unfortunately, is on the same weekend as Grindstone this year) where redemption is required, while still allowing for a fair amount of flexibility to throw in some new stuff, and perhaps to even nab a few PRs at shorter distances (in my quest this year to PR at EVERY DISTANCE).
Of course, brilliant ideas are always welcome, particularly those that are a new sort of challenging and/or stupid . . . ;)
Showing posts with label high mileage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label high mileage. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 31, 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. :)
Thursday, March 31, 2011
How I Roll (Lately)
It has come to my attention (in that it's been nagging in the back of my mind for a while now) that to some, my training methods may appear inscrutable, and my blog posts an impenetrable, irrelevant word fog. To kill two proverbial birds with one stone, this post will clear up why this is what it is.
First, my training methods: Going into 2011, I was suffering from a stress fracture in my left foot (second metatarsal, a pretty common injury). Being determined to come back strong from this injury, and to seek redemption for a number of my efforts that fell short in 2010, I started with a commitment of running at least 1 mile every day for 2011. As it turned out, this was just the commitment that I needed to gradually rebuild my strength. Now, three months later, I've methodicallyl built up to running 90-100 miles per week, with no sign of burnout or serious injury (knock on wood). I don't come into each week with a specific plan for each day, but I do have a general outline of what I want to accomplish, built primarily in anticipation of, and in response to, my longer/harder weekend efforts. I shoot for one fast speed/tempo session, one slower, more grueling speed/tempo/hill session, and one long run, and fill in the rest with "garbage miles." Except not really, because, especially lately, I've been running each "garbage mile" session with purpose. I focus on improving an aspect of my form, or my breathing, or I take my run through interesting/challenging sections of terrain. In that way, not only do I get the slow-and-steady accumulation of aerobic benefits, but also the more rapid, satisfying improvements that come from increased technical capability.
Which leads me into my next thought, which is why my blog is what it is, and is written the way it is. As part of my 2011 resolution to run at least a mile every day, I also resolved (less specifically) to write more about my running. In the past, I kept wide-ruled marble notebooks, with 3 or 4 lines dutifully devoted each day to a brief description of my running (or lack thereof) for the day. I covered the traditional time/distance/weather/mood stuff that they tell you to cover, and all in all, this method wasn't bad. It gave me a benchmark for my next training cycle, and reminded me of particularly fun or amusing things that happened during my runs. However, I eventually grew apart from this practice, and, looking back, I believe that it was subconsciously because although the logs were fully satisfying the latter intent, they had hit a wall with respect to the former. That is, I could see how well (or poorly) I did on a recent workout by comparing to results from similar workouts in the past, but I couldn't see WHY I was doing well or poorly.
With that in mind, this blog contains significantly more detail about WHY (at least, in my estimation) my performances turned out the way they did, because, along the lines of high mileage, for me, explicit, extensive repetition is the way that I learn best. Some people are much better at absorbing and internalizing through thoughts and feelings, which need not be stated. Not me. I need specific, detailed analysis of what works and what doesn't. In other words, some people need only to feel the wall to push through it; I need to know what color the bricks are, what kind of mortar was used, how long the mortar has been allowed to set . . .
I suspect that there may be others like me out there, and if so, I hope that things I've written here are instructive to you. If you're not one of those people, I hope all of this doesn't bore you terribly . . . but then again, nobody's forcing you to read it . . .
First, my training methods: Going into 2011, I was suffering from a stress fracture in my left foot (second metatarsal, a pretty common injury). Being determined to come back strong from this injury, and to seek redemption for a number of my efforts that fell short in 2010, I started with a commitment of running at least 1 mile every day for 2011. As it turned out, this was just the commitment that I needed to gradually rebuild my strength. Now, three months later, I've methodicallyl built up to running 90-100 miles per week, with no sign of burnout or serious injury (knock on wood). I don't come into each week with a specific plan for each day, but I do have a general outline of what I want to accomplish, built primarily in anticipation of, and in response to, my longer/harder weekend efforts. I shoot for one fast speed/tempo session, one slower, more grueling speed/tempo/hill session, and one long run, and fill in the rest with "garbage miles." Except not really, because, especially lately, I've been running each "garbage mile" session with purpose. I focus on improving an aspect of my form, or my breathing, or I take my run through interesting/challenging sections of terrain. In that way, not only do I get the slow-and-steady accumulation of aerobic benefits, but also the more rapid, satisfying improvements that come from increased technical capability.
Which leads me into my next thought, which is why my blog is what it is, and is written the way it is. As part of my 2011 resolution to run at least a mile every day, I also resolved (less specifically) to write more about my running. In the past, I kept wide-ruled marble notebooks, with 3 or 4 lines dutifully devoted each day to a brief description of my running (or lack thereof) for the day. I covered the traditional time/distance/weather/mood stuff that they tell you to cover, and all in all, this method wasn't bad. It gave me a benchmark for my next training cycle, and reminded me of particularly fun or amusing things that happened during my runs. However, I eventually grew apart from this practice, and, looking back, I believe that it was subconsciously because although the logs were fully satisfying the latter intent, they had hit a wall with respect to the former. That is, I could see how well (or poorly) I did on a recent workout by comparing to results from similar workouts in the past, but I couldn't see WHY I was doing well or poorly.
With that in mind, this blog contains significantly more detail about WHY (at least, in my estimation) my performances turned out the way they did, because, along the lines of high mileage, for me, explicit, extensive repetition is the way that I learn best. Some people are much better at absorbing and internalizing through thoughts and feelings, which need not be stated. Not me. I need specific, detailed analysis of what works and what doesn't. In other words, some people need only to feel the wall to push through it; I need to know what color the bricks are, what kind of mortar was used, how long the mortar has been allowed to set . . .
I suspect that there may be others like me out there, and if so, I hope that things I've written here are instructive to you. If you're not one of those people, I hope all of this doesn't bore you terribly . . . but then again, nobody's forcing you to read it . . .
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Training For Life
It's another in a sporadic series of my musings about things that are indirectly related to running. (I probably didn't need to say that, since you were going to find that out as soon as you read past the first sentence.)
Over the past few weeks, I've been hitting some relatively high mileage (80-ish per week), and surprisingly enough, feeling the best I've ever felt at this volume. I've never actually sustained a training volume this high for this long (at least not to my recollection), and I'm noticing that very minor aches and pains, occasional sluggishness, and mental roadblocks (really? ANOTHER mile in the rain? wasn't 14 enough?), at a low, but persistent level, are the only things that are making this difficult.
Which brings me to the point, which is that perhaps this is precisely the aspect of training that brings about improvement. The phrase "pleasantly exhausted" is thrown around to describe how you should feel after a training run, and I think that to some extent, this phrase applies to that feeling that you have throughout your heavy training periods. Because really, if every day weren't just a little bit challenging, how would you grow and improve? And furthermore (I didn't really want to use that word, but when am I going to get a chance to use it again without sounding even more preachy than I do right now?), if there isn't some variety in the challenge, if there isn't some new thing to dread just a little bit each day, won't you quickly run out of ways to improve?
So maybe that oft-quoted, rarely-understood Bowerman line from that Prefontaine movie (about people who are able to find meaning in the absurd pastime that is running also being able to find meaning in the absurd pastime that is life) isn't as vacuous as I thought. In both training for a race, and in life, if you subject yourself to too much punishment, you'll just wind up broken down, worn out, and incapable of reaching your goal. On the other hand, if you constantly avoid the truly difficult tasks, you'll never be ready when the opportunity to shine presents itself.
But if you can take pleasure in pursuits each day that leave you just a little bit muddied, bloodied, and breathless, over time, you'll probably find that you've grown quite a bit, accomplished a lot, and lived a richer life for it. And, as I'm discovering, maintaining the delicate balance between labor, and enjoying the fruits thereof, is the key to all of this, and much more difficult than it seems, which probably explains why so few people truly reach their potential.
Or maybe I'm just making all of this up, and it sucks to be tired. I'm going to go and bake some bread now, because there's a recipe for it in the Baltimore Guide, and I'm calling their bluff on the quality.
Over the past few weeks, I've been hitting some relatively high mileage (80-ish per week), and surprisingly enough, feeling the best I've ever felt at this volume. I've never actually sustained a training volume this high for this long (at least not to my recollection), and I'm noticing that very minor aches and pains, occasional sluggishness, and mental roadblocks (really? ANOTHER mile in the rain? wasn't 14 enough?), at a low, but persistent level, are the only things that are making this difficult.
Which brings me to the point, which is that perhaps this is precisely the aspect of training that brings about improvement. The phrase "pleasantly exhausted" is thrown around to describe how you should feel after a training run, and I think that to some extent, this phrase applies to that feeling that you have throughout your heavy training periods. Because really, if every day weren't just a little bit challenging, how would you grow and improve? And furthermore (I didn't really want to use that word, but when am I going to get a chance to use it again without sounding even more preachy than I do right now?), if there isn't some variety in the challenge, if there isn't some new thing to dread just a little bit each day, won't you quickly run out of ways to improve?
So maybe that oft-quoted, rarely-understood Bowerman line from that Prefontaine movie (about people who are able to find meaning in the absurd pastime that is running also being able to find meaning in the absurd pastime that is life) isn't as vacuous as I thought. In both training for a race, and in life, if you subject yourself to too much punishment, you'll just wind up broken down, worn out, and incapable of reaching your goal. On the other hand, if you constantly avoid the truly difficult tasks, you'll never be ready when the opportunity to shine presents itself.
But if you can take pleasure in pursuits each day that leave you just a little bit muddied, bloodied, and breathless, over time, you'll probably find that you've grown quite a bit, accomplished a lot, and lived a richer life for it. And, as I'm discovering, maintaining the delicate balance between labor, and enjoying the fruits thereof, is the key to all of this, and much more difficult than it seems, which probably explains why so few people truly reach their potential.
Or maybe I'm just making all of this up, and it sucks to be tired. I'm going to go and bake some bread now, because there's a recipe for it in the Baltimore Guide, and I'm calling their bluff on the quality.
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