Training To Nab a BQ

Winter air hovers over an overcast Mansfield yesterday. 34 degrees and calm winds told me I better get outside for a run. 3 layers later I was out the door for a 4 mile run through city streets. Having ice covered street sides forced me to run with greater care. In a half mile I felt my easy pace pick up with the intensity I will have to turn to often as I train for my first marathon of 2013. Feeling strong and focused I climbed Grace Street. (Why do the name a street "Grace" that's all about hills??) By the time I got to the top of the hill I decided to head towards the high school to venture around the track. I didn't realize I would be running on 4 inches of virgin snow as I took a lap. It felt like running on soft beach sand only much colder. My pace was slowed by a half minute during that mile but I made up for lost time in the final leg of my workout. Considering the ice and snow, I was satisfied with the 8:42 overall pace this morning. It felt good to get my first outdoor run of the new year. Training begins in seriousness next week. To qualify for Boston I'm going to have to run a pace of 8:00/mile. That means I will have to figure out a way to run 29 seconds faster per mile. I realize I have a lot of work to do to reach this goal but I feel motivated to push with wisdom. I can't afford to do something stupid and cause an unnecessary injury due to poor training. ~So I think I'll go to Boston~

Run 2013

It's time to pick out races for 2013. As much as I have enjoyed the Chicago experience the last two years, I have decided to try a couple of new venues. I plan to run two marathons again (spring & fall). It's cold and blustery right now but as I looked out the window this evening, I was already imagining dashing across thawing roads as I inhale traces of springtime air. Tonight I dream about putting in the miles of effort needed to prepare for a Boston qualifying time of 3:30. A copy Hal Higdon's marathon training program is in my hands tonight. On the top of the page it is labeled "Advanced 2," and I wonder if it is too ambitious or is it time to take my preparations to the next level? I have to identify the races I plan to enter, which will probably be more local this year. After I establish the dates, I will back up 18 weeks and start scheduling each workout session.If I'm planning to race in May, it looks like I better start running this week!!

True Gym Class Heroes

Two months ago I was enthralled in an episodes of "Freaks & Geeks." It's gym class and Sam, Neal and Bill, who are polar opposites of athleticism, are tossed into the terrorizing arena of dodge ball against bigger, stronger, faster classmates who drool at the prospects of legalized brutality against the geeks. Seeing the uncontrollable frightened looks on their faces took me back 40 years ago to Ross Corners elementary. It's gym time for us 4th graders, a time when we are reminded of the the haves and have nots on the hardwood.

Like Sam Weir, I was short of stature, light as a feather and not endowed with the genes of a future Olympian. When those big red rubber balls would sail 150 mph at my head, I became a believer in impassioned prayer, "Oh God! Please don't let them kill me!!" It was a demoralizing hour repeated 2 or 3 times every week for me a handful of others who shared my passion for the sidelines or a bench. By the time 5th grade rolled around and I had a year of reminders of not making the cut, something happened. My gym teacher had an idea that would forever alter my life.

Yes, I believe Physical Education classes can be life changing. Mr Westcott, just a young teacher fresh out of Penn State, was very much in tune with the dynamics that unfolded on the gym floor. He was much aware that in gym there were Sams and Neals and Bills and Marks who felt they never had a chance to enjoy gym but instead endured the weekly ritual with lower aspirations of just getting through in one piece. One day in as we sat in classrooms, our teachers read off a list of names of students who were to report to the gym immediately. When my name was announced along with other students, we had a quizzical look on our faces. We had no idea why our names would be read off to go to what? A second gym class in the day? It had to be a mistake, we weren't the ones who should be heading to the gym to be crafted into future professional athletes. But the round up was underway with the likes of Steve and George and Scott and Kevin. It didn't take us long to realize why we were there. We were the guys who didn't expect to win at any physical contest. We were the ones who could relate with the geeks at dodge ball.

I still remember the day when Steve Isch asked me if we had coordination classes today. After all these years we still joke about it. He saw it for what it was as a 5th grader. We were the clumsy, the slow, the unfit, and the timid. We were the the lower echelon of draft picks when teams were divided for softball or football or basketball. Although we were aware of the reality that we were not that good, Mr. Westcott was about to change the way we perceived ourselves in this special class made just for us. I remember the first class, as we toed the line to find out why in the heck we were called to a second gym class in the day. With great diplomacy he explained why all of us were invited. "The reason you are here today is because each of you are seem reluctant to jump in when it's time to play. You are the ones that hesitate to pick up a floor hockey stick or pick up a baseball bat or have the desire to shoot the basketball. This class is for you to have fun and we're glad you're here." As I looked around the room, not one of my peers posed a threat when it came to sports and as we looked at each other, we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. This was gym with out bullies, or superstars, it was just us! We wondered what it would be like to play sports with out the fear of failure, or snickering or put downs. It was our time to shine- it was our GYM for an hour!

After Mr Westcott's speech, he and an assistant divided up teams, and they were the captains making the pick. Here we were again, hoping not to be the last one picked! Mr W was the first to choose amid all the prospects who stood on the line hoping to be called. He announced, "I'll take you, the one with the cool motorcycle jacket!" He then pointed his finger right at me! I was quite in shock to be the very first pick- that had never happened in my life! Right then I made a decision I would not disappoint Mr W.; he would be glad that I was a team member. I have no idea how I performed that day but I know that from that point forward, I would never be shy about sports again. That class ignited my passion to get in the game and not wish for the sidelines. I would grow to love sports deeply and by the time I entered high school, I lettered in baseball, cross country and wrestling.

Mr Westcott was a visionary of elementary gym class. His decision profoundly effected the way I saw my world. I wonder how many other of my "coordination class" peers felt the same way after this idea he pursued!

Move 40 years ahead now. It's New Year's eve, snow is falling as I look out the window of the front desk of the hotel where I work in Mansfield Ohio. Night has arrived and things are calm as I stand in front of my computer scanning through my high school website when I stumble across a link to Alumni Hall of Fame, 1998. Here I stumbled across the name Wayne Westcott PhD. It is the very same Coach Westcott I had in 4th and 5th grade. I was amazed to see he had published 50 books and over 300 articles for such prestigious periodicals such as Men's Health. I was able to watch instructional videos and conferences where he was presenting his detailed research on health and fitness.

He did so much when over the last 4 decades and it was hard to believe that day when HE PICKED ME FIRST. So last night I decided to go on a mission to try to find his phone number and thank him forty years later for that life-changing moment he created for a little kid. When I found and dialed his number I knew I was taking a stab in the dark that I'd actually get a chance to chat with my old gym teacher. When the phone stopped ringing a woman answered the line and I asked to talk with Mr Westcott. She hesitated until I explained the reason for my call. Her reluctance quickly evaporated as she told me she was his wife and high school sweetheart from Vestal and remembers very clearly those days at Ross Corners elementary and how amazing those early years were. I assured her I did not plan to tie up their relaxing evening for long, but that I just wanted to thank a real gym class hero.

 It was surreal to hear Mr Westcott's voice after all these years. I shared with him how he had changed my life by one small act in a special gym class. I let him know that since those early years I have run four marathons and that I was knocking on the door to qualifying for the Boston Marathon. He was very excited to learn of my achievements and was still in the role of encourager. What I learned in the brief conversation was that he now lives in the Boston area and wants me to call him if I qualify so we can meet up when I reach that goal. I told him that only fuels my motivation more to shave off the 15 minutes so I can make the trip to the east coast to meet up with him and his wife. I thanked him once more then I hung up the phone and looked out the window in a mystical kind of way. It had ended up being a magical way to end 2012. Although it has been a year with many sharp bends and drops and climbs, it seemed to be a perfect ending to reach way back in time to reconnect with a difference-maker.

Derby Marathon Louisville 4-28-12

I am two days removed from my third marathon and as I type, I am beginning to feel human once again. It took about 48 hours to be able to sufficiently disguise my limp as not to invoke pity or head shaking smirks that say, "You're an IDIOT for running when you don't have to. LOL Of the three races in my life (Akron & Chicago are the other) this one is the sweetest of the three. The most obvious reason I place this at the top of my list is because I attain a personal best of 3:56.49 which surpassed my next best by more than a minute per mile pace. Only a few close friends and family knew that secretly I was hoping to break the 4 hour mark. It was private because I have not had the greatest confidence as a runner over the past few years. But this year, it all came together. Adding weight lifting, steadfastness to the training schedule and a more intentional diet all paid off this time around. The bittersweet of the moment was the reality that Andy and I would be unable to enter together due to a significant leg injury. Still, I was inspired by the knowledge that he would be there at the finish to greet me instead of being thousands of miles away in a war zone in Afghanistan. I definitely ran as one whose inspiration cup runneth over. I am not a good sleeper the night before a race and yet I've learned, that Adrenalin is the runners caffeine that overcomes such inconveniences. Wide awake, we were on the road by 5:45 am. to beat the traffic. About 20 runners were there at that point with about 18,000 more in route. I don't mind getting there before the crowd as it helps me drink deeper in the experience I paid good money for. The winds were light and the 50 degree temps were perfect to start out the big day ahead of us. Sardiened in starting corral D, I waiting anxiously for the start of the race. Beside me were a lady who was running her first half marathon and a Marine who wore a "Marathon Maniacs" shirt which shouted hard core Marine corp! We talked of his 4 deployments and I talked proud of my two sons in service. I asked a guy who stood about 6'6" to help look around for a guy holding an Ascics Pace sign for those who wanted to break 4 hours. He spotted them and I drifted to the sign guy whose hopes I pinned on breaking 4 hours. Finally the gun went off and we shuffled as cattle off to the slaughter house of sorts. It took 5 minutes from my point to cross the start line and soon we were off. I tucked in close to the pace guide like a shy kid tucked behind his momma. I knew that if I stayed close and felt good, I had an outside shot. I was checking my times as I followed mother goose. I know the benefit of a pace guy is not starting out too fast, caught in the excitement of the crowds and noise. For most of this early stage, I played smooth jazz on my I-pod. This is a good way to stay calm and cool when you need to stay settled. At the first quarter of my marathon my time was 59:21. The highlight of the first 6.5 was getting scolded by some guy who came up beside me and told me to watch my forearm as I hit him pretty hard. I didn't realize that I did that and apologized. I thought to myself, man, this weight lifting must be making me one mean dude, you know? Well I was much more conscious of my arms from that point on, of course. The second quarter was run at a 58:08 clip and was the most amazing stretch of the race. One minute I was running through residential streets and at the next moment, on our right stood the magnificent home of the Kentucky Derby. Churchill Downs infield was part of the plotted course for all runners and they way through was a tunnel that burrowed under the track. In moments thousands of runners emerged in awe of the splendor, knowing full well that throngs we tune into next week to watch the first of three crowns of the very best horses in the world. Many of us could not help but slow a bit in awe of the sight of swift thoroughbreds gliding at blazing speeds down the back stretch. The moment was both majestic and the stuff of dreams! For a moment, I felt a deep connection to my late grandfather "Abuelo," who had such fondness for the sport and art of horse racing. For a few minutes of this race, he was center stage in my heart. Though inspired by the special mile on the marathon route, I must confess a bit of distraction. I had to find a portajohn so I could become more focused on this goal. When one became available I jumped in happy to know that I could be more laser like in my focus the rest of the way. I lost about 90 seconds but erased it quickly as I caught up with the pace guy once again. At about 10.5 miles the route takes runners through Iroquois Park, which would involve many climbs and descent over the next 3 miles. Feeling strong at this point, I opted to veer ahead of the pacer a little, feeling confident in my own pace and in what my body was saying. All the climbs and drops in the park were welcomed by my once apprehensive mind. The reason it did not make me feel timid was because of the significant hill training I did back home that adequately prepared me for the 3 mile run through this park. I have learned to love hills and not loathe them which provided a more positive mindset for this first set of hills on the course. As I approached the halfway point of my journey, everything was sound and I felt strong. I was starting to think that my goal was attainable barring unforeseen problems ahead. The third quarter was the best of the four with a time of 57:53. By now I had started to get separation form the pace runner. When I reached mile 16 I was beginning to think of how the distance ahead was now measured by miles in the single digits. There are many ways runners think through the mental barriers ahead. For me it was "just 3 5ks left." The thing that surprised me about this race was the fact that at no time did my mind struggle to stay focused. Where doing mental math had been rough in the last two races, this one did not seem to drain my head of thinking faculties. In this part of the races, the mile signs seemed to pop up with good frequency and I found that I could do a few conservative surges at times on this flat part of the course. I was not really feeling the fatigue over miles 13-20. Now I was not just hoping to beat the goal but started believing it was about to happen. When I got to the final quarter of the race which covered 1:00.02, I knew if there was any threat to the dream it would be found on this stretch. I had rounded mile 21 and spotted Kelly & Andy cheering and taking pictures. I told them, I was going to make it now, that I felt great and I threw out a thumbs up. AS I said that, a little fear kicked in but what if something happens now. Did I mess up declaring it openly? Sure enough as I turned the corner beyond them I was greeted by two miles of climb ahead. Though your mind and cardio may feel strong at this point there is a threat that lurks in legs that have been taxed for over 3 hours, the dreaded muscle cramps. I felt a familiar tinge hinting of trouble ahead, just as I started at the base of the elevation. I knew that I'd have to approach this climb with shortened stride and slow steady cadence. At mile 22 it flared for a moment but then eased off. I felt like a tight rope walker at this point. If I tipped too much my leg would convulse uncontrollably. I had reached the summit, or so I thought, when I took a sharp left to see one more hill just hoping to steal my dream. My tender climb had brought me this far and so I convinced myself that I had just one more climb over thin ice and I'd be home. And so it was on mile 23 that my leg rebelled against the rest of me, just as it did in Akron and in Chicago. There was a man standing there on the side of the road, as if sadistically positioned there to watch the suffering climbers who were trying to will their legs to do what they refused to do. I looked at him and shouted, "This happens every time at mile 23!" I hated losing control but I stopped a second to rub it down, beat on it and stomp it to do what it didn't want to do. The previous two races, it refused to go away until the finish but today, was different. By mile 24 I began my last descent into the city and the cramps subsided. I caught up with 2 other runners and we talked of the joy of soon reaching our goals. We were 3 euphoric kids who had come to believe the battle was behind us as we heard the cheering crowds down the streets accompanied by the sounds of a marching band. Those final two miles were both covered with sub nine minute mile pace and the end was in sight. I have always tried to finish strong and today, I wanted to try to do this again. I was looking for motivation when I spotted a runner ahead playing it up to the crowd, while looking behind to see if anyone was coming. I knew right away if pressed, he was just as competitive as me for the finish. Though our placings in the race were not remarkable, spectators were still eager to see a race to the finish, so we joined in the theatrics of the last 0.2 miles of the race in an all out sprint to the finish. And yest with 100 yards left, I made my pass and shouted with joy of breaking 4 hours at the finish. When we crossed the line we shared a laugh and congratulated each other and shared in the greater victory of finishing another marathon. I cried at the last two marathons but this time I didn't, maybe because I started talking with this guy in the footrace. But as I staggered ahead to the finisher's medal, I felt contented that all the hard work paid off. I learned that even as I start this new decade of my life, the best is still to come!

Two Marathons In 2012

It looks like I will be doubling the total marathons run by the end of the year. This month I will be entering the Derby Marathon in Louisville Ky and then I will return to the Chicago Marathon in October. It is part of my commitment to make my new decade (the 50s) my healthiest & fittest years. I am pleased with the way the training plan has gone for my first race. I have added cross training with weights and can tell it is paying off in getting prepared. Today I ran 20 miles at a steady pace all the way to the end and this included at least 5 substantial hills. I am thankful to remain injury-free so far. I plan to stay tightly on the plan, eat smart and rest well. I am hopeful that I am about to score my best time ever. If everything continues as planned I hope that I can knock on the door of my sub 4 hour goal. I know I will have to push a bit hard but am optimistic that I have a chance. In 3 Saturdays I will toe up to the start. We will see how things turn out.

Last Race of 2011 The Ashland Half Marathon

Today I wrapped up the racing season by returning to the scene where I began my rebound from foot injuries that hampered me for 2 years. The Ashland Half was where I tested the foot that gave me trouble. In 2010 it was a test to see if I could climb the constant elevations of this street course. That day was blustery, cold and gloomy and my running time of 2:24 was not a big concern as I just wanted to prove to my body I was not done. Though depleted and sore, I came away unscathed and determined to proceed with plans to run my second marathon. The racing season was conservative as I entered limited races in 2011: Columbus Half Marathon - May Shoals Indiana Catfish 5 k- July Chicago Marathon - October Trunk or Treat 5k- October Ashland Half Marathon- December So this morning I went back to where it started. The temps hovered around the freezing point but the sun seemed determined to chase away all traces that reminded us of the season we were facing. Coming to the race, I had much higher expectation than to finish a long distance race. I was feeling good and in probably the best shape I have felt in three years. I knew I had trained hard for this race because I was determined to empty my tank. Most of the last weeks involved significant training on hills. Living on the edge of the country afforded me many opportunities to get ready for the hills I would encounter in this race. About 300 half marathoners toed up to the start and soon we were on my way. Running on a moderate downward slope forced me to a more up-tempo pace than I normally apply when starting a long race. At the half mile mark the hills start dominating the landscape. Here was the place that I started testing out if my hill work was going to pay off. I was pleasantly surprised by the surging I experienced on the hills. Though I tried to warm up before the race the cold and terrain was causing my shins to tighten and reduce motion for the first 2.5 miles. There was a time that would have worried me but I knew the race was long and my legs would catch up in time. At the 3 mile mark I hit 25 minutes for an 8:20 pace. I toss Kelly my gloves as I was convinced they were no longer necessary. Happy to have full range in my feet again, I simply focused on running a healthy pace, unconcerned with those around me. I preached to myself to run my own race no matter what.

At mile 4 I took my first and final drink of the race. This is not normally what I do nor recommend but on this day it worked for me. I remembered how much time I lost hitting all those water stations in Chicago and probably over corrected today. When my legs were finally fully back under me I was able to climb and descend hills with steady confidence. I was feeling strong as I clipped past miles 5, 6 and 7. When I hit that 7th mile and saw that I hit the 60 minute mark at that point I was very encouraged to know I was running an average of 7 m.p.h. even with all these hills. On the hills I found I fatigued very little and gained ground on other runners at key points on the course. For the first time in awhile I was actually thinking as a competitive runner. There are many games played among experienced runners and I was actually getting to employ a few tactics along the way that surprisingly worked. It also indicated that my mind was staying alert as I pressed up and down slopes of this college town. I knew that at around 9.5 miles would be the biggest hill on the course that ran west of Ashland University. This was the place that really tested and drained me last year. What would it be like after all this training under my belt this time? I'm not going to say it was unchallenging but it did not seem nearly as menacing as it was last year! When you get to the top you know you have conquered your biggest nemesis of the race and what I had forgotten was that it lulls you into the false sense of security that hills are behind you. Turning west one last time you are greeted by roller coaster hills, and while not nearly as steep, they are strategically positioned to add some misery on your way to the final 5k of the race. Here is where determination, focus and steadiness are essential. It was evident that those last climbs were taking their toll on many as I was able to sweep past a half dozen runners on the descent back toward the main intersection of town which marked the beginning of the end. Nearing the 12 mile I spotted a tall runner tapering off a bit. Noticing that the back of his jacket touted some 100 mile race he had run, I thought it would be great to finish ahead of an ultrarunner. When I passed him I felt good but it was short lived as he retook the lead about a quarter mile later. I trailed him as we made the final turn toward the stadium that marked the end of this 13.1 journey. The final half mile there was uphill and it was obvious that the cluster of runners near me seemed discouraged to find one more climb before making the left turn to the stadium track. Last year's run was kind of a depressing ending. Dark and cold, most of the onlookers had packed up and left. By the time I crossed that line, only 6 other runners were still on the course. But this morning was different. There was energy and the crowd was cheering all runners as they looped their last .25 miles on the track. I have always felt that finishing strong was more than a phrase but it is my mantra as a runner. I had 7 or 8 runners between me and the finish who were also tired, as I was but something happens to me when I near a finish line. I saw an opportunity to pass a big cluster if I had it in me to sprint to the finish. As I rounded the final bend I noticed a runner look over his should to see who was behind him. It was as if that was my signal to run as fast as I could to the end. As I sprinted, it came so easily as if I couldn't even feel my legs underneath my hips. I poured out everything I had left and crossed the finish line with a 1:57 time, nearly a half hour quicker than last year! The best part was I bested my time from the Columbus half in the spring by almost 3 minutes, which had far fewer hills than I just encountered. I wrap up the racing season deeply gratified for God's help in overcoming adversity, injury and mental barriers that held me back. I am eager to greet 2012 and it's fun to begin thinking about the possibilities of running in a new decade of my life. I glance at the calendar and it's still December though. There are yet 27 days left in the year and I am not done! No big races to finish the year now. Instead I am chasing one last audacious goal as a runner- reaching the 3000 mile mark of my career. After today's run, there are just 126 miles standing between me and a new milestone. If the weather keeps giving me breaks, I hope to reach it. No matter what 2011 will be remembered as the year I got back in the game.

Thrill of the Hills

My least favorite part of training is what I seem to be doing more of lately. I'm talking about what most runners seem least enthusiastic about, hill work. I never enjoyed this element of my training because it slows us down while demanding the most of our energies, leaving us often breathless. One of the earliest running routes I had in Shoals Indiana was the Catfish 5k loop that involved a series of steep inclines through a cemetery. It's not that odd that the hills zigzag through a grave yard because I feel closer to death when I run up long steep grades. I exempted myself from hill work for about 2 and half years due to some injuries that would aggravate them whenever a took a shot at Mt. Misery. Now healed though, I can not excuse myself from places that make my heart want to bail out of my chest as my legs burn slowly. While there is an obvious case for not loving this training phase, I am having a change of heart these days. So here are the reasons why I am starting to kinda like hill running: 1) More Routes- Overcoming my reluctance with the hills has opened up new surrounding routes and sights to see. It is nice to truly go cross country because I live on the edge of it anyway. Mixing up the routes not only allows me to see fresh places but keeps me from getting bored by the same streets and mailboxes I've passed for the last 3 years. 2) Mental Sharpness- You don't have to think nearly as much about running when you gliding along a relatively flat terrain but when you are leaning into a mountain, you can't help but thinking about the obvious. On the hill there are times when a little voice says "STOP & REST." The hills are where you have to shout back "NO, I CAN REST WHEN I GET HOME." You are forced to focus on breathing and form and getting to the top. When I conquer a big hill I notice the little hills that raised anxiety in the past only become laughable and this is when you realize the muscles of your mind are more developed. 3) Uptempo Running Benefits- Another nice take away from the hill comes after you get to the top. I have discovered it is a lot easier to pick up the pace on the flats because the exertion of moving faster is nothing compared to the effort of a 5% grade. 4) Better Lungs- One of the things a hill will do is test your condition level. When I first ran hills, I felt like a fire breathing dragon that wheezed like I had pneumonia. It seemed to take just as long to get back to normal breathing as the time it took to scale the summit. What I find these days as that while it still demands a lot of wind to get to the top that it takes less time regain my breath. This fact takes away some of the dread I once felt for hills. I would still prefer the flat course of Chicago's marathon over Akron's but at least it's good to know while the hills may never become my favorite part of running, I can see its benefits more clearly now.