The last long run before race day is complete.
It's two miles short of what I was supposed to do, and it was the craziest roller coaster ride I have ever been on.
I ran with Mike, as he has been a rock star and improved his running time by roughly 3 minutes per mile in the last two weeks. So it was a great help to have him for company and for motivation. Unfortunately, he probably is not as happy he had me for a running partner Sunday.
I started off in that "I really don't feel like doing this" mood. So I told Mike I would run behind him and I was able to block out the negative thoughts and just concentrate on the rhythm of his feet and match my pace with his....left...right....left....right. That got me through the first ten miles with a stop here and there for a drink, or a Gu, or a trip to the natural bathroom that the woods so generously provide. My knees were hurting, my neck was tight, and I was complaining a little.
The next three miles I started to break out of the funk, and felt pretty good. I took the lead, and we came to a fork in the road. Following the road straight would have gotten us home faster, but our 18 mile course demanded that we turn right. Mentally, I took another turn, and started down a frightful path. It started to rain, my whole body was aching, 15 miles in and I had no idea where we were. I knew I was looking for a stop sign, but every time I cleared a hill and saw open road, there was no stop sign. I thought maybe we mapped the route wrong and started thinking about calling someone to come pick me up. I thought I was hurting so badly that I would never make it back home if the stop sign wasn't even within eyshot yet. Then I got mad at Mike thinking that it was his fault that we didn't take the stupid shortcut at the fork in the road when we could have. Then I screamed out with gusto, "Where the &*^% is this f*#&ing stop sign? Where the %$# are we?!?!?" It was a complete meltdown. If I had any energy left, I would have cried.
Well, once I got it together, the stop sign appeared and I recovered, knowing I only had two miles to go. I was hurting, but I got into a rhythm behind Mike again, and was able to push out the hill at the end of that ridiculous run.
I'm hoping that the crowds and the scenery will sooth the rage in me when I hit those tough moments in the race. And I hope Mike is mentally strong enough for both of us, the way he was this past Sunday.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Food For Thought & Runners
On Thursday 11th March, Dani and I headed to the Center City Philadelphia Runner store to hear a talk led by Nancy Clark, one of America’s leading sports nutritionists and author of the book “Nancy Clark’s Food Guide for Marathoners”. Small in stature and huge in personality, she answered every question posed and gave some great insights and ideas. Her key ideas were:
1. Think of your body as a vehicle and figure out how much fuel it needs to get you through the day.
This was done through some simple arithmetic that I’ll try and explain. Start with your target body weight in pounds and multiply it by 10. This is the number of calories the body will need in one day to survive with no exercise. To account for the everyday energy the body uses during the day (carrying groceries, luggage or children, walking to and from the car, loading a new pack of paper into the photocopier), add 50% of this total. If it’s a running day, add 100 calories for each mile you run.
Using myself as an example:
Target weight is 200lb
Calories needed daily to exist is 200 x 10 = 2000 Calories
Add 50% for Daily activity (Stripping wallpaper, walking to the South Philly Taproom etc) = 3000 Calories
If I were to run to FDR Park and back (my 6 Mile route), I’d add 600 Calories, making my daily calorific requirement 3600 Calories. Easy peasy.
2. Eat the same size meal, 4 times Daily.
Nancy recommended that we should be eating 4 times a day, every 4 hours, with each meal giving us a quarter of our body’s daily need. So if my body needs 3600 Calories, I should be eating 900 calories for breakfast, 900 at Lunch, Nancy introduced the concept of 2nd Lunch (also 900 calories) and then 900 calories for Dinner. She explained that the regular eating pattern and second lunch prevents lows and food cravings (notably when you get home from work and you’re starving).
3. The food break during a long run should be a reward, something to look forward to.
If you don’t like GU or Shot Bloks, then don’t eat them. You can replenish your body’s needs to the same extent with Gummy Bears, Nuts, Tootsie Rolls, Dried Fruit, M&M’s, Pretzel, Twizzlers. She apologised to the storeowner for any impact on sales.
4. Figure out how much water the body sweats so you know how much you need to replenish.
Simply, weigh yourself naked. Go run for an hour and weigh yourself naked again. Every pound you lose is a pint (16oz) of liquid. Use this number to evaluate how much you should be taking with you and drinking on the longer runs. On this point she also added that it is important to train your intestines as to what they can expect, as well as your muscles. If we go to Paris and are drinking water or Powerade at each of the 5k intervals, and we haven’t been doing the same in training, our bodies will react badly.
5. You should be peeing every two hours.
If you’re peeing less frequently, increase your water intake. Water in juices, coffee, lettuce, yogurt etc counts too!
6. Electrolytes = Sodium
You shouldn’t be drinking a sports drink unless you’re exercising – a Gatorade from Wawa with lunch is just adding extra salt to your diet.
Dani and I picked up her book and would definitely recommend it. She really seems to grasp that people have lives outside of running and that it’s difficult to balance hectic schedules with training. We’re definitely going to give the 4 hour, second lunch plan a go and Dani’s excited that she can give up the GU in favor of something her body likes.
On the way out, Dani asked Ross (the Philadelphia Runner co-owner) if he’d heard from Mizuno about the running shoe sponsorship for Tom Coyne. He responded, “Who is Tom Coyne?” I guess he’s a Jeopardy fan too!
Friday, March 12, 2010
Best Laid Plans
I think it was inevitable that it was going to end up this way. Despite a lifetime of better efforts, no matter how much I plan in advance, deadlines are met with an adrenaline fueled, high octane dash to the finish line. Having spent most of November and December using the weather, work commitments, the Philadelphia Eagles home schedule and anything else I could muster as an excuse to not run, I found myself on a plane with Dani on the way back from Christmas and New Year with our family in Europe and only 14 weeks to prepare for Paris. Still enough time to prepare without the last minute, frantic panic. I was convinced. The plane touched down on January 6th, I vowed that January 7th was to be the first day of 14 weeks dedicated to gym enrollment, the accumulation of road miles, physical fitness and nutritional health.
January 7th – Julian, You’re Fired.
Generally, I was not fond of my job. For nine months I learnt a lot, unfortunately most of the lessons fell in the “What not to do” column. But I was being paid, paying bills, I had a client that I loved to work for and (I later discovered) loved the work I was doing for them.
With a house move on the horizon, hiding out as long as it took for the clouds of the recession to pass by had been my plan. Unfortunately, the clients that canceled projects or chose not to renew their contracts did not share this plan. Neither did my boss who had the courage to ask someone else to pull me aside at the end of the day to ask me to pack up my things and bid me a fond farewell. At least I suddenly had time on my hands to run, you would think.
With my calendar suddenly open, I was now able to help Dani’s dad (Rainer) work on our new home. Even an untrained eye would know that a toilet and wash basin shouldn’t be 2 feet from the circuit breaker panel in the basement, or that outlets on all three floors shouldn’t be protected by just one fuse. Rainer had trained as an electrician in Germany many years ago, prior to a career developing new technologies for Siemens and he was heading over for three weeks to manage the rewiring project at our new home. A daily pattern quickly began to emerge – breakfast, work, lunch, work until 9pm, dinner and 3 beers, bed. No time to run, and limited physical capability to do so even if I wanted to. 11 weeks to go and no effort made to fulfill the promise I made to myself on the January 6th flight.
Other than the promise I’d made to myself, I’d forgotten a lot. I forgot that I’d made a promise to do this. I forgot that I was part of a team of 12 that were also dealing with personal and professional commitments as well as inner demons. I also forgot that I was part of a team of 2, and that Dani had our own plan and commitment to help each other get to the finish line. Despite my complaints, tantrums and reluctance to put in any effort, Dani had continued to forge forward. She was putting in the miles on the road or getting to the gym to run on a treadmill when the snow outside was too deep.
Then she quit.
She’d run further than she ever had before and was rightly proud of her accomplishments. She was financially supporting us both whilst running a business in the same recession that had cost me my job. Airfare to Paris and accommodation for two was going to be expensive. She wasn’t getting the motivation she needed from her coach, but more importantly she wasn’t getting any from me. Some kind of team-mate I was.
This was the motivation I needed to get back out there, but now I needed to find a way to pick Dani up too. I threw everything I could at her – the history of Germany v England (sporting and otherwise), the story we’d tell our grandchildren (a weapon she’d used to good effect to motivate us both early on in the project), and the fact that her competitive nature wouldn’t let me do this without her. I managed to get her back on the road logging the miles again, but she wasn’t convinced.
Paris 2010 BK (Before Kate)
On February 27th, Tom had arranged for us to meet with Sports Psychologist, Kate Taylor. Mike and Kim kindly offered their home as a meeting venue and welcomed us on a cold Saturday morning with champagne bottle in hand, enough food to feed 12 hungry runners for a week and the phrase “We’re not going to run today right? it’s too cold”. My kind of people.
It was amazing to hear a world class athlete talk humbly of the demons that they battled as a college athlete and as an Olympic hopeful. We openly shared our own worries and concerns and she reassured us all that the goal was still in our reach. We talked about visualization, devising a mental as well as a physical plan for the race, we had our running form reviewed and importantly for Tom, she reminded us that he had only provided us with the opportunity and that taking it was our fault and not his.
Importantly I felt that we came back together as a team with encouragement from each others accomplishments. Cristin joined us live from Dubai via satellite having completed a half marathon in the dessert. Helene’s run log showed that she’d run the equivalent of Philadelphia to Pittsburgh and back. Shannon, in true altruistic Coyne style, had found a passion for running that she converted to helping others. Mike had dropped pounds while he and Kim had become the envy of their neighbors as they ran to basketball practices rather than drive the few miles. And Dani asked the question, “With six weeks to go and only a handful of long runs under our belt, is there still enough time to be prepared for Paris?” Kate answered “Yes.” Team Europe was back in the race.
Running with Duffy.
After we met with Kate, Duffy suggested to Dani and I that we meet the next weekend and do our long run together. We run at a similar pace (10 to 11 minute miles), Dani and Duff like to run on Forbidden Drive, we had similar distance goals (Dani and I 14 miles, Duff,16). Perfect.
We agreed to meet at Valley Green Inn at 9:30am on Saturday March 6th; Duff and Dani had charted a course with appropriate intervals:
Section 1 - Valley Green Inn to the equestrian center and back - 1 hour, 5 miles, water and GU.
Section 2 - Valley Green Inn to Kelly Drive - 1 hour, 4.5 Miles, water and GU.
Section 3 - Kelly Drive to Valley Green Inn - 1 hour, 4.5 Miles, water and GU.
Duff was then in a position to run the extra 2 miles, body permitting. Dani and I were able to collapse into a heap, 5 weeks from Paris with our 1st half marathon complete.
10:30am – Section 1 went as well as could be expected. The sun had emerged from its hibernation and the conditions for running were better than they had been for the previous 2 and a half months. Duff cast aside his sweatshirt and jogging pants and off we went on the next leg of the run, to Kelly Drive. The snow and ice on the path was still heavy in parts, making it more of an arctic assault course than a running trail. This made the section slower, but intact, we arrived at Kelly Drive and the end of Section 2. This is where Dani, Duff and I split up.
11:16am - Convinced that if he ran back to Valley Green Inn with us, Duff was confident that his car seat would be too appealing and that there was no way he would motivate himself to run an extra 2 miles to achieve his goal. Instead, he decided he would run from Kelly Drive to the Falls Bridge, and then back to Valley Green with his 16 mile goal accomplished. Dani and I wished him well, expressed that we may see him back at the end and we headed our separate ways.
12:24pm - Our final 4.5 miles were a slog and progress had not been quick. We stretched out our tired limbs as best we could replenished our bodies with water and shot blocks, and any other foodstuff that was lying in the car. We had run slowly and it took some time for us to be able to stretch our limbs enough to operate a vehicle. As we drove away, Dani commented, “I’m surprised that we didn’t see Duffy finish.”Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Square One
Well, after 7 months, countless doctor visits, hundreds of dollars in co-pays, 12 extra pounds and 8 weeks in 1 giant boot, the doctor has cleared me to start training again.
I have to admit that when the good doctor told me I was not to do any weight bearing exercise of any kind, I thought it was the best news I'd heard in my entire adult life. I had permission to be the lazy, out of shape person I always knew I was.
I had the best of both worlds...I could legitimately say I was injured while I was training for a marathon (no one had to know I was only up to 3 miles). I became a fake athlete and talked more about running and sports injuries than I ever thought possible. Other runners treated me like one of their own. And I never had to run. It was brilliant.
All that being said, with Paris approaching I've started to feel sad about not being part of this experience the way that I thought I could have been. There's little reward in being the first one "booted" off the island.
After meeting with the team and listening to their stories of struggling to get to distances I can still only imagine, I've become inspired. You all have come so far and accomplished so much already. I now wish I knew the feeling of completing a "long run" or a race (or even 3 miles at this point). You should all be VERY proud.
So by the time the team is headed to Paris, I will be up to one slow mile on the treadmill (according to my new training schedule). It may sound crazy but I am determined to start running again. I think I'll start with a 5k though. Let's face it, 26miles is just f-ing nuts Tom.
I have to admit that when the good doctor told me I was not to do any weight bearing exercise of any kind, I thought it was the best news I'd heard in my entire adult life. I had permission to be the lazy, out of shape person I always knew I was.
I had the best of both worlds...I could legitimately say I was injured while I was training for a marathon (no one had to know I was only up to 3 miles). I became a fake athlete and talked more about running and sports injuries than I ever thought possible. Other runners treated me like one of their own. And I never had to run. It was brilliant.
All that being said, with Paris approaching I've started to feel sad about not being part of this experience the way that I thought I could have been. There's little reward in being the first one "booted" off the island.
After meeting with the team and listening to their stories of struggling to get to distances I can still only imagine, I've become inspired. You all have come so far and accomplished so much already. I now wish I knew the feeling of completing a "long run" or a race (or even 3 miles at this point). You should all be VERY proud.
So by the time the team is headed to Paris, I will be up to one slow mile on the treadmill (according to my new training schedule). It may sound crazy but I am determined to start running again. I think I'll start with a 5k though. Let's face it, 26miles is just f-ing nuts Tom.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Le Run de Breakfast
I found this clip on the marathon's website and thought it might be of interest. For those of you traveling with family or friends who may have caught the running bug, there is a choose your own distance (up to 5k) breakfast race on Saturday, April 10, that takes you down the homestretch of the marathon. I have no idea what this guy in the video is going on about (per my limited French, I think he's trying to order soup), but it was somewhat inspiring to see the various nationalities and walks of life that arrive in Paris to be a part of all this. If I can get a running stroller to France, I'm thinking about running this with Allyson and Maggie. It's free, and a good way to shake off some jet lag. And it's the way to score a free banana, apparently. Have to brush up on my banana dance...
And then I found this clip on YouTube...kind of inspiring. It gets a PG-13 for the unexpected number of rubdowns going on here, but hell, it's France. And some of these folks look pretty poky, so take heart.
And then I found this clip on YouTube...kind of inspiring. It gets a PG-13 for the unexpected number of rubdowns going on here, but hell, it's France. And some of these folks look pretty poky, so take heart.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Marathon in jeopardy? I hope so!
If any of you were wondering about that window-rattling boom that originated in southeastern Pennsylvania this past Monday evening, that was my head exploding. At around 7:15, I walked in the door to a phone call from Fred, and I answered in the hopes that he was calling to cancel this Sunday's run. He was actually calling with more interesting news: "Dude. You were just a question on Jeopardy." As a lifelong Jeopardy devotee, I thought his call a cruel trick, payback for bringing the word "interval" into his life. But when another friend sent along this screen shot:
my head proceeded to inflate faster than a crash test air bag. Ego came gushing out of my ears, filling our living room and threatening to drown us all. (If you've seen this on Facebook this week--yeah, I'm still not over it.)
As I catch Jeopardy on most evenings, I was crushed that I wasn't watching when the question came up, though it was probably for the best. I'm sure I would have passed out, dropped the baby, or pizza-tossed the dog. Being part of a Jeopardy answer/question has been my life's secret ambition, so if it weren't for this marathon, I might never try to accomplish anything ever again. No races. No contests. No quizzo for me. I wouldn't attempt so much as a crossword puzzle--I would just go sit on my stoop for the next forty years and tell passersby about the night I was a $400 question. And I would leave out the part about the three lumps who didn't buzz in to answer.
Which brings me to a new ambition--to become a Jeopardy question that someone knows the answer to. Or maybe a Daily Double. Which is where the Paris Twelve comes in. Somewhere amid these many solitary miles, we might have lost interest in one of the cool things about this slog--that people are going to experience all of this with us, in a blog, in a book, and maybe a game show. A whole bunch of strangers are going to be running right with us, pulling for us, critiquing us, becoming friends we didn't know we had. I've never felt quite as lonely as I have on these long winter runs, so let's not forget that we have some company. And with each new mile and new challenge and new circumstance, we are writing a story--a story that might end up crossing Alex Trebek's sweet lips someday in that ultimate dream: 26.1 to Go, the Jeopardy category. Consider the possibilities: "What is, molasses?" "What is, Body Glide?" "What is, a stress fracture?" "Where is, the Bishop's Collar?" "What is, last place?" Post your own 26.1 to Go question/answers here. You never know who's following...
my head proceeded to inflate faster than a crash test air bag. Ego came gushing out of my ears, filling our living room and threatening to drown us all. (If you've seen this on Facebook this week--yeah, I'm still not over it.)As I catch Jeopardy on most evenings, I was crushed that I wasn't watching when the question came up, though it was probably for the best. I'm sure I would have passed out, dropped the baby, or pizza-tossed the dog. Being part of a Jeopardy answer/question has been my life's secret ambition, so if it weren't for this marathon, I might never try to accomplish anything ever again. No races. No contests. No quizzo for me. I wouldn't attempt so much as a crossword puzzle--I would just go sit on my stoop for the next forty years and tell passersby about the night I was a $400 question. And I would leave out the part about the three lumps who didn't buzz in to answer.
Which brings me to a new ambition--to become a Jeopardy question that someone knows the answer to. Or maybe a Daily Double. Which is where the Paris Twelve comes in. Somewhere amid these many solitary miles, we might have lost interest in one of the cool things about this slog--that people are going to experience all of this with us, in a blog, in a book, and maybe a game show. A whole bunch of strangers are going to be running right with us, pulling for us, critiquing us, becoming friends we didn't know we had. I've never felt quite as lonely as I have on these long winter runs, so let's not forget that we have some company. And with each new mile and new challenge and new circumstance, we are writing a story--a story that might end up crossing Alex Trebek's sweet lips someday in that ultimate dream: 26.1 to Go, the Jeopardy category. Consider the possibilities: "What is, molasses?" "What is, Body Glide?" "What is, a stress fracture?" "Where is, the Bishop's Collar?" "What is, last place?" Post your own 26.1 to Go question/answers here. You never know who's following...
Monday, February 15, 2010
Hawks, Buzzards and Other Mind Games
I'm posting on behalf of our brother in running, Brian:
Hard to believe, but I think back to August to try to gain some perspective on where this running journey has taken me. This one of the many mind games I play in trying to convince myself that this training-for-a-marathon-experiment-in-idiocy can possibly end well. I think back to my first attempts of running again after years of rust and fat build-up, those desperate steps on the boardwalk in OC in which a mile was a struggle. Can't you just run to the Music pier and back, you pathetic geezer??!! I remember the heat, the sweat, the utter humiliation. Well, minus the heat, not much has changed...or has it?
I have now stretched out my training runs to what is legitimately labeled "long runs"- 10 mile, 9 mile, 10 mile, 11 mile and 12 mile runs under my belt. I hope to manage 13 or 14 really slow miles this weekend, my head bobbing above the canyons of snow plowed along the path on Kelly Drive. I am quite amazed at how far I have come from those hot, futile runs last summer, yet I am overwhelmed by the distances still to be overcome. The 12 miles last Sunday seemed to take every ounce of energy, strength and fortitude I could muster. How can I possibly double this output and then some in two months time on the streets of Paris?? How much more do I really have in this aging body?
The math does not add up. I find myself doing math in my head constantly on my runs. How far have I gone? How much further do I have to go? If I turnaround now, how far will that take me? How many three mile loops go into 26.2? What time did I start my run? What time will it be when I finish? How long will I run for? How many weeks to Paris? How many "long runs" left on the training schedule? How many times have I heard this U2 song? How far have I ran since I last heard it? And on and on... Can I patent a running shirt with a built-in calculator in the sleeve? How can I get the math to add up on April 11?
A few weeks ago, I was three quarters of my way through my "long run", about 7 miles and 80 minutes through along Forbidden Drive, when I saw a large hawk sitting on a low branch of a tree alongside the trail just in front of me. Maybe it was a hallucination? I nearly stopped, but continued on and passed within 15 feet of the predator, his eyes following me the whole time as I cautiously moved in full front of him. As I ran past, I wondered what he must have been thinking....Can I take this guy and be set for winter and beyond? Kind of like hitting the hawk powerball lottery. I ran faster to ensure I was out of range quickly, my heart beating faster but not because I was running faster, hoping that the rules of nature would hold sway. Hawks swoop down on squirrels and rabbits and mice and such, not cows, pigs or gorillas, right?
Running back on Forbidden Drive, I often see the hawks majestically circling the trees overhead. Toward the end of a "long run", I sometimes wonder if they are not buzzards circling, waiting for the impending collapse of the carcass. They can smell it, can't they? The thought keeps me moving, further than I ever have run before.
I imagine Paris. I see people lined on the streets, shouting in French. I see myself sprinting to the finish line, but I can't be sure yet if I bask in sunlight or flood light. What are the tube stops near miles 18, 20, 22, 23, 24? Mile 25? If I make it that far, I know I can low crawl the rest of the way, like the way we stormed the beaches on the coast to the west.
I have had a few runner's highs on some of the "long runs". The Gu packs have sure helped(thanks Fred!). After an especially good vanilla bean last week, my step noticeably picked up at mile 9. I felt like I had a huge zipper lined down the front of my body. I unzip it and ran out of a huge layer of myself, the skin and fat of the previous me left behind on the trail behind me, the "long run" new me bounding forward, light and fleet. Could I possibly do this? Could I have again become that runner from so many years ago? Then mile 11 came, and I shuffle that last mile to the finish, completely crushed and unsure if this is at all possible.
But I figure if I can do 12, I can squeeze out 14. And if I can do 14, I can do... March 21 is circled on my calendar. That's my target date for 20 miles. I'll know better that if I can get to 14 then I can get to 20. And if I can get to 20, then...the race starts at 20, I am told! As long as I don't stop moving, I know I can get to 20!! The math means nothing, it's all in my head, and if I just don't stop moving, I will get to 26.2. And if I can do this, we all can do this. I hope and pray I can do this!
As as aside, thank god for Gu. The Gu gels are awesome, and I look forward to those packets along my runs the way I used to look forward to a Wendy's double with cheese. I have found that my tastes in Gu are very similar to my tastes in general. My preferences are in the vanillas and chocolates, not so much in the fruits. I can attest to one side effect that should raise caution in using Gu before a date or job interview. After a recent "long run", I stiffly shuffled up to my house and in the door, greeted with a jumping-into-the-arms hug from my three year old. I gave her a big kiss, and she recoiled, her nose shriveling up at me. "Bridget, what's the matter?" "Daddy, your breath is stinky!!" Relieved and satisfied, I said, "I know, sweetheart, I know". As she ran off to the play room, I was sure that no matter where this journey ends, it's been worthwhile getting here. At least that's what I will be telling myself on Sunday, round about mile 12.
BD
Hard to believe, but I think back to August to try to gain some perspective on where this running journey has taken me. This one of the many mind games I play in trying to convince myself that this training-for-a-marathon-experiment-in-idiocy can possibly end well. I think back to my first attempts of running again after years of rust and fat build-up, those desperate steps on the boardwalk in OC in which a mile was a struggle. Can't you just run to the Music pier and back, you pathetic geezer??!! I remember the heat, the sweat, the utter humiliation. Well, minus the heat, not much has changed...or has it?
I have now stretched out my training runs to what is legitimately labeled "long runs"- 10 mile, 9 mile, 10 mile, 11 mile and 12 mile runs under my belt. I hope to manage 13 or 14 really slow miles this weekend, my head bobbing above the canyons of snow plowed along the path on Kelly Drive. I am quite amazed at how far I have come from those hot, futile runs last summer, yet I am overwhelmed by the distances still to be overcome. The 12 miles last Sunday seemed to take every ounce of energy, strength and fortitude I could muster. How can I possibly double this output and then some in two months time on the streets of Paris?? How much more do I really have in this aging body?
The math does not add up. I find myself doing math in my head constantly on my runs. How far have I gone? How much further do I have to go? If I turnaround now, how far will that take me? How many three mile loops go into 26.2? What time did I start my run? What time will it be when I finish? How long will I run for? How many weeks to Paris? How many "long runs" left on the training schedule? How many times have I heard this U2 song? How far have I ran since I last heard it? And on and on... Can I patent a running shirt with a built-in calculator in the sleeve? How can I get the math to add up on April 11?
A few weeks ago, I was three quarters of my way through my "long run", about 7 miles and 80 minutes through along Forbidden Drive, when I saw a large hawk sitting on a low branch of a tree alongside the trail just in front of me. Maybe it was a hallucination? I nearly stopped, but continued on and passed within 15 feet of the predator, his eyes following me the whole time as I cautiously moved in full front of him. As I ran past, I wondered what he must have been thinking....Can I take this guy and be set for winter and beyond? Kind of like hitting the hawk powerball lottery. I ran faster to ensure I was out of range quickly, my heart beating faster but not because I was running faster, hoping that the rules of nature would hold sway. Hawks swoop down on squirrels and rabbits and mice and such, not cows, pigs or gorillas, right?
Running back on Forbidden Drive, I often see the hawks majestically circling the trees overhead. Toward the end of a "long run", I sometimes wonder if they are not buzzards circling, waiting for the impending collapse of the carcass. They can smell it, can't they? The thought keeps me moving, further than I ever have run before.
I imagine Paris. I see people lined on the streets, shouting in French. I see myself sprinting to the finish line, but I can't be sure yet if I bask in sunlight or flood light. What are the tube stops near miles 18, 20, 22, 23, 24? Mile 25? If I make it that far, I know I can low crawl the rest of the way, like the way we stormed the beaches on the coast to the west.
I have had a few runner's highs on some of the "long runs". The Gu packs have sure helped(thanks Fred!). After an especially good vanilla bean last week, my step noticeably picked up at mile 9. I felt like I had a huge zipper lined down the front of my body. I unzip it and ran out of a huge layer of myself, the skin and fat of the previous me left behind on the trail behind me, the "long run" new me bounding forward, light and fleet. Could I possibly do this? Could I have again become that runner from so many years ago? Then mile 11 came, and I shuffle that last mile to the finish, completely crushed and unsure if this is at all possible.
But I figure if I can do 12, I can squeeze out 14. And if I can do 14, I can do... March 21 is circled on my calendar. That's my target date for 20 miles. I'll know better that if I can get to 14 then I can get to 20. And if I can get to 20, then...the race starts at 20, I am told! As long as I don't stop moving, I know I can get to 20!! The math means nothing, it's all in my head, and if I just don't stop moving, I will get to 26.2. And if I can do this, we all can do this. I hope and pray I can do this!
As as aside, thank god for Gu. The Gu gels are awesome, and I look forward to those packets along my runs the way I used to look forward to a Wendy's double with cheese. I have found that my tastes in Gu are very similar to my tastes in general. My preferences are in the vanillas and chocolates, not so much in the fruits. I can attest to one side effect that should raise caution in using Gu before a date or job interview. After a recent "long run", I stiffly shuffled up to my house and in the door, greeted with a jumping-into-the-arms hug from my three year old. I gave her a big kiss, and she recoiled, her nose shriveling up at me. "Bridget, what's the matter?" "Daddy, your breath is stinky!!" Relieved and satisfied, I said, "I know, sweetheart, I know". As she ran off to the play room, I was sure that no matter where this journey ends, it's been worthwhile getting here. At least that's what I will be telling myself on Sunday, round about mile 12.
BD
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