Sunday, October 14, 2012
8K Today
It's been a dream of mine to share race day with P__, attending in a capacity other than hauling me home. Today we ran the Race for a Cause 8K in Arlington VA. It was my second time on the course, on a nearly identical day to last year and I ran within 3 seconds or so of my time from last year. P__ ran as well, her first 8K (so a PR!) and arguably her best ever run of any distance. After a few back-slaps at the end, I jogged back down the course and enjoyed finishing a second time with P__. Next month we are scheduled to run the Veteran's Day 10K, and in early December the Jingle All the Way 8K. I can't wait!
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Lance -- Again
Two articles on Lance in today's NY Times. The first is a rather painful-to-read summary of the doping agency report concluding Lance was the ringleader of a sophisticated -- and forceful -- doping program surrounding his two TdF teams. Maybe it's true, maybe it's not, but it's depressing, and I lean toward true.
The second is a discussion of his luke-warm reception in triathlon. I've discussed that here before. The article includes interviews with a handful of pro triathletes and coaches who support his exclusion from sanctioned events. Statements in those interviews contain a certain subtextual discomfort with the painful fact that a top cyclist, even when he's far too old to race on his bike, is better than a top triathlete in his prime. Of course, it's easy to clothe any such complaint in worries about triathlon's remaining a clean sport.
Just had this thought as I stood here: assume Lance is/was a doper. Is his success in triathlon problematic because he is/was dirty, or is it problematic because of his high profile regardless of doping? It seems that to the extent triathlon is a "clean" sport (which is debatable anyway -- Ironman titles have been stripped before) it is primarily a function of triathlon's low profile rather than a function of triathletes' inherent morality. Introduce mass public appeal and the sponsorship dollars that come with it and you bring about overwhelming incentives to cheat. (Having written that, it seems more obvious than profound.)
The second is a discussion of his luke-warm reception in triathlon. I've discussed that here before. The article includes interviews with a handful of pro triathletes and coaches who support his exclusion from sanctioned events. Statements in those interviews contain a certain subtextual discomfort with the painful fact that a top cyclist, even when he's far too old to race on his bike, is better than a top triathlete in his prime. Of course, it's easy to clothe any such complaint in worries about triathlon's remaining a clean sport.
Just had this thought as I stood here: assume Lance is/was a doper. Is his success in triathlon problematic because he is/was dirty, or is it problematic because of his high profile regardless of doping? It seems that to the extent triathlon is a "clean" sport (which is debatable anyway -- Ironman titles have been stripped before) it is primarily a function of triathlon's low profile rather than a function of triathletes' inherent morality. Introduce mass public appeal and the sponsorship dollars that come with it and you bring about overwhelming incentives to cheat. (Having written that, it seems more obvious than profound.)
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Check-up
I have an IT band/knee/hip/calf and ankle/underfoot problem -- or, as I described it to Mary and Allen on Monday, a roving problem in my left leg. The leg was my ostensible reason for quitting the Colorado ride 4 weeks ago (the real reason was that it was wet and miserable and I was tired). But it is creating some problem with my running as well -- for example, I skipped my 1/2 marathon on Sunday so as not to aggravate the leg.
I went to a local outfit called Rehab to Racing. This is a husband-and-wife shop that does everything from physical therapy to coaching. The basic workup required a three-hour session including gait analysis, bike fit analysis, a lengthy interview that reminded me of the phenomenal Hugh Laurie TV show "House" ("is there anything else you are not telling us, whether or not you think it is relevant?"), and a range of motion/flexibility/strength exam.
I learned my left leg is markedly -- around 5% by thigh circumference, similarly by calf circumference -- smaller than my right. That's consistent with my recent perception of its being weaker (I've been doing a fair amount of single-leg work in the gym, and too frequently I tip over when in a lunge or similar exercise). It's also a logical result of my Achilles tendon injury last spring. If you assume symmetry before the injury and insufficient recovery time, my right leg will have picked up the lion's share of thousands of miles on the bike and four triathlons over the summer. As the right leg gets stronger relative to the left, even when the left has healed the right will continue to do more of the work. And so on. Consistent with the idea that a weak leg is being asked to keep up with a strong one (and consistent with the pain I'm experiencing), the left leg is much less flexible over a variety of motions.
Mary and Allen at R2R also believe my gait is a tad slow -- 80 strides per minute by their count -- which means a greater load on the leg each foot strike, and my bike position may be a tad compressed, with a 140 degree bend between my back and my thigh at the top of the pedal stroke.
Homework? Stretch. Ice. Train with weights. Warm up and cool down appropriately. Run smart, not long. Supplement with potassium and magnesium. Gone are the days when I can rely on my body's healing itself while I goof off for a few days!
I went to a local outfit called Rehab to Racing. This is a husband-and-wife shop that does everything from physical therapy to coaching. The basic workup required a three-hour session including gait analysis, bike fit analysis, a lengthy interview that reminded me of the phenomenal Hugh Laurie TV show "House" ("is there anything else you are not telling us, whether or not you think it is relevant?"), and a range of motion/flexibility/strength exam.
I learned my left leg is markedly -- around 5% by thigh circumference, similarly by calf circumference -- smaller than my right. That's consistent with my recent perception of its being weaker (I've been doing a fair amount of single-leg work in the gym, and too frequently I tip over when in a lunge or similar exercise). It's also a logical result of my Achilles tendon injury last spring. If you assume symmetry before the injury and insufficient recovery time, my right leg will have picked up the lion's share of thousands of miles on the bike and four triathlons over the summer. As the right leg gets stronger relative to the left, even when the left has healed the right will continue to do more of the work. And so on. Consistent with the idea that a weak leg is being asked to keep up with a strong one (and consistent with the pain I'm experiencing), the left leg is much less flexible over a variety of motions.
Mary and Allen at R2R also believe my gait is a tad slow -- 80 strides per minute by their count -- which means a greater load on the leg each foot strike, and my bike position may be a tad compressed, with a 140 degree bend between my back and my thigh at the top of the pedal stroke.
Homework? Stretch. Ice. Train with weights. Warm up and cool down appropriately. Run smart, not long. Supplement with potassium and magnesium. Gone are the days when I can rely on my body's healing itself while I goof off for a few days!
Running Cities
Active.com has this list of the top 10 American running cities. I'm more than a little miffed that New York and Chicago beat out my hometown of DC (and my surrogate hometown of Indy isn't on the list -- but that's not a surprise).
Of course, the list is comparing apples and oranges. No offense, Ted, but in what world is New York a better running city than Eugene and Boulder? They are simply incomparable.
Anybody up for creating our own lists? First: greatest running college towns. I know one of these well and I'm enough of a running history buff to name two others -- Boulder, Eugene, and Gainesville. Not necessarily in that order, but it seems a good start. Others?
Second: greatest marathon cities. Relevant factors include (1) size of major race, (2) local support for major race, (3) number of minor races, (4) variety of attendees at the various races, (5) undefinables, like history or screaming college students at Mile 13. My sphere of acquaintance is pretty small, but I go Boston, DC, Dublin -- realizing full well there are cities (including, of course, London, Chicago, and New York) that fit before and between those selections.
Of course, the list is comparing apples and oranges. No offense, Ted, but in what world is New York a better running city than Eugene and Boulder? They are simply incomparable.
Anybody up for creating our own lists? First: greatest running college towns. I know one of these well and I'm enough of a running history buff to name two others -- Boulder, Eugene, and Gainesville. Not necessarily in that order, but it seems a good start. Others?
Second: greatest marathon cities. Relevant factors include (1) size of major race, (2) local support for major race, (3) number of minor races, (4) variety of attendees at the various races, (5) undefinables, like history or screaming college students at Mile 13. My sphere of acquaintance is pretty small, but I go Boston, DC, Dublin -- realizing full well there are cities (including, of course, London, Chicago, and New York) that fit before and between those selections.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
The Esctasy and the Agony
Here is your intrepid Chicago reporter with a first hand account from the Chicago Marathon. Got up early on my own before the alarm disturbed Laura. Forgot to lay out my stuff the night before so rushed through breakfast, taped my right foot, loaded my running belt with cash, bus card and gels, pulled on the compression sleeves, grabbed ipod, paper towel, and strolled to the corner to...
join the race in progress at mile 8.5 with the folks running 3:50-4:00 pace. low forties, overcast, some wind, smaller crowds than usual, runners not too bunched. Goal was 10-11.5 to prep for a half marathon in two weeks. Kept the pace for most of the time but my knee started hurting after about 3 miles. It had been hurting off and on but I took it very easy the past week but to save myself for this morning and because like Max I had a bad cold mid-week. Things got worse and worse and at mile 18.5 I had a rare moment of clarity. I could walk but not really run at this point without a serious limp. Anything more would send me in a direction away from the el and anything more would be a real bad idea for my knee. Four blocks later I was on the el and 25 minutes I was home.
Its such a friendly crowd and familiar course that I had a great time, but depressed about starting back at the beginning of training if knee turns out to be serious. For now a couple of days off, and then strictly on the bike, elliptical and running in the pool until I can make a decision on the half on the 21st and the 15K on November 4th.
The only thing that bothered me was the presumed sense of originality of sign makers which turned up with depressing regularity multiple times along the course. These included:
Chuck Norris never ran a marathon.
Go Total Stranger!
Worst Parade Ever!
various bible quotes
and
Run Bitches! (sometimes spelled with a z).
Any repeat offenders you guys have noticed?
join the race in progress at mile 8.5 with the folks running 3:50-4:00 pace. low forties, overcast, some wind, smaller crowds than usual, runners not too bunched. Goal was 10-11.5 to prep for a half marathon in two weeks. Kept the pace for most of the time but my knee started hurting after about 3 miles. It had been hurting off and on but I took it very easy the past week but to save myself for this morning and because like Max I had a bad cold mid-week. Things got worse and worse and at mile 18.5 I had a rare moment of clarity. I could walk but not really run at this point without a serious limp. Anything more would send me in a direction away from the el and anything more would be a real bad idea for my knee. Four blocks later I was on the el and 25 minutes I was home.
Its such a friendly crowd and familiar course that I had a great time, but depressed about starting back at the beginning of training if knee turns out to be serious. For now a couple of days off, and then strictly on the bike, elliptical and running in the pool until I can make a decision on the half on the 21st and the 15K on November 4th.
The only thing that bothered me was the presumed sense of originality of sign makers which turned up with depressing regularity multiple times along the course. These included:
Chuck Norris never ran a marathon.
Go Total Stranger!
Worst Parade Ever!
various bible quotes
and
Run Bitches! (sometimes spelled with a z).
Any repeat offenders you guys have noticed?
It Must Have Been the Shoes -- Pt. 2
So, my love affair with the Saucony Kinvara 2 continues. Today was the Staten Island Half Marathon, my last race before the NYC Marathon in a month. I wasn't sure what to expect. I have been in cross-training mode, more than Marathon mode for the last few months, so while I'm pretty fit, I have not been running very much. I've managed to do my "long runs" on the weekend, but midweek, I've been swimming and cycling more than I've been running. Just to make matters worse, on Friday, I rolled my ankle while out for my morning run. In my experience, there are three levels of turned ankle: (1) Yikes, that could have been bad; (2) ouch that hurt, but I can still run on it with moderate discomfort; and (3) something popped, crying, screaming pain and the end of the season. This one was definitely in category 2, and I wasn't quite sure what it would be like on Sunday. Saturday, I iced, stayed off it and took ibuprophen. Saturday night I slept with the Strassburg sock to loosen up the calf muscle. Sunday morning, it was not perfect, but good enough.
The race weather was perfect -- mid 50s, light overcast, no wind. Rain was predicted to start at about the time we finished, and it conveniently obeyed the prediction.
I went out hard. The first mile was at 7:45, which was what I thought of as the high end of my pace. Miles 2 and 3 were at 7:17 and 7:18. Let's be clear, that's faster than I've been running 5Ks lately, so this was a bit disconcerting. I felt okay, though, so I carried on. Miles 4 and 5 were uphill, so my pace dropped to 7:34, but then lifted right back to 7:17 on the backside for mile 6. My 10K split was 47:11. This made me extremely nervous. My 10K PR is 46:44, and that was in 2002. . . On the other hand, I was feeling fine. I backed it down a bit. Miles 7-12 hovered between 7:34 and 7:50, depending on the elevation gain, but mostly at the lower end. Mile 13 I slowed to 8:02, but that was a hill, and finished with a good kick.
End result 1:40.55. WTF!!!! This was not just a good race, it was a great race (for me). My half-marathon PR before this was 1:43.26, and that was from, um 2001. My most recent half was five minutes slower, and I was happy.
Anyway, knock me over with a feather. I have been joking about wanting to set a PR after turning 50, but I expected to do it in a 15K or some other distance that I don't run much.
All in all a good day.
The race weather was perfect -- mid 50s, light overcast, no wind. Rain was predicted to start at about the time we finished, and it conveniently obeyed the prediction.
I went out hard. The first mile was at 7:45, which was what I thought of as the high end of my pace. Miles 2 and 3 were at 7:17 and 7:18. Let's be clear, that's faster than I've been running 5Ks lately, so this was a bit disconcerting. I felt okay, though, so I carried on. Miles 4 and 5 were uphill, so my pace dropped to 7:34, but then lifted right back to 7:17 on the backside for mile 6. My 10K split was 47:11. This made me extremely nervous. My 10K PR is 46:44, and that was in 2002. . . On the other hand, I was feeling fine. I backed it down a bit. Miles 7-12 hovered between 7:34 and 7:50, depending on the elevation gain, but mostly at the lower end. Mile 13 I slowed to 8:02, but that was a hill, and finished with a good kick.
End result 1:40.55. WTF!!!! This was not just a good race, it was a great race (for me). My half-marathon PR before this was 1:43.26, and that was from, um 2001. My most recent half was five minutes slower, and I was happy.
Anyway, knock me over with a feather. I have been joking about wanting to set a PR after turning 50, but I expected to do it in a 15K or some other distance that I don't run much.
All in all a good day.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
A Market Response?
We are now more than three weeks after the opening of registration for the Boston Marathon and the race is still open.
That's unheard of in recent years. When I first registered (2001 -- didn't run), I qualified in January and registered in early February for that April's race. When I started paying attention again in 2009 I heard the race was closing up more quickly. Some runners who qualified for the 2010 race at the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon (early November) got in, but qualifiers from the Philadelphia Marathon (mid to late November) did not. I qualified at the 2010 National Marathon and registered for Boston before noon on the day it opened. That year the registration system was inundated; many would-be runners could not get through online. I also understand the marathon expanded its charity slots, reducing opportunities for qualifiers. Many were closed out. (The amusing result was the creation of a protest marathon in Gansett, Rhode Island, that is now run yearly two days prior to the Boston Marathon. They proudly announce that they are a true "qualifiers only" race.)
The debacle in 2010 for the 2011 race was such that the Boston Athletic Association moved to a tiered entry system. In the September 2011 registration for Boston 2012, if a runner beat the qualifying time by 20 minutes or more, she or he had first shot at entry. Two days later, the 10-minutes-or-more qualifiers had their shot. Two days later was reserved for the 5-minutes-or-more qualifiers (including me). The next Monday registration was opened to all qualifiers, but not on a first-come-first-served basis. After a week of "mere qualifier" registrations, the marathon selected the fastest times relative to qualification standard to fill the remaining slots. One other big difference: historically, qualifying was determined by the hours and minutes only. If a 30-year-old man ran a 3:10:59, that met the 3:10 qualification standard. Starting in 2011, that same runner had to meet or beat 3:10:00. The marathon filled up by the close of registration.
This year they used the same tiered system, but they also brought the qualifying times down by 5 minutes across the board. Three weeks later, the race is not full. One of a few things may explain the phenomenon:
(1) the recession-driven running craze has run its course (good for the economy);
(2) last year's heat scared many away;
(3) the 5-minute decrease in qualifying times is precluding many from running;
(4) people are sick of Boston.
I think number 4 may explain a lot of it. When Boston makes you think of Bill Rogers, Wellesley College girls, and high-fives atop Heartbreak Hill, it's a place you want to go. When Boston makes you think of that club that you lined up outside of when you were 25 and watched the beautiful people go in ahead of you, you'd rather find a nice race somewhere that is still about running. I do know that 2013 may be my last year there for a while.
That's unheard of in recent years. When I first registered (2001 -- didn't run), I qualified in January and registered in early February for that April's race. When I started paying attention again in 2009 I heard the race was closing up more quickly. Some runners who qualified for the 2010 race at the 2009 Marine Corps Marathon (early November) got in, but qualifiers from the Philadelphia Marathon (mid to late November) did not. I qualified at the 2010 National Marathon and registered for Boston before noon on the day it opened. That year the registration system was inundated; many would-be runners could not get through online. I also understand the marathon expanded its charity slots, reducing opportunities for qualifiers. Many were closed out. (The amusing result was the creation of a protest marathon in Gansett, Rhode Island, that is now run yearly two days prior to the Boston Marathon. They proudly announce that they are a true "qualifiers only" race.)
The debacle in 2010 for the 2011 race was such that the Boston Athletic Association moved to a tiered entry system. In the September 2011 registration for Boston 2012, if a runner beat the qualifying time by 20 minutes or more, she or he had first shot at entry. Two days later, the 10-minutes-or-more qualifiers had their shot. Two days later was reserved for the 5-minutes-or-more qualifiers (including me). The next Monday registration was opened to all qualifiers, but not on a first-come-first-served basis. After a week of "mere qualifier" registrations, the marathon selected the fastest times relative to qualification standard to fill the remaining slots. One other big difference: historically, qualifying was determined by the hours and minutes only. If a 30-year-old man ran a 3:10:59, that met the 3:10 qualification standard. Starting in 2011, that same runner had to meet or beat 3:10:00. The marathon filled up by the close of registration.
This year they used the same tiered system, but they also brought the qualifying times down by 5 minutes across the board. Three weeks later, the race is not full. One of a few things may explain the phenomenon:
(1) the recession-driven running craze has run its course (good for the economy);
(2) last year's heat scared many away;
(3) the 5-minute decrease in qualifying times is precluding many from running;
(4) people are sick of Boston.
I think number 4 may explain a lot of it. When Boston makes you think of Bill Rogers, Wellesley College girls, and high-fives atop Heartbreak Hill, it's a place you want to go. When Boston makes you think of that club that you lined up outside of when you were 25 and watched the beautiful people go in ahead of you, you'd rather find a nice race somewhere that is still about running. I do know that 2013 may be my last year there for a while.
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