Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Runners' Depends
I seriously need to try and develop this product. For the past month or so, Mother Nature has been a real drag in that department. I barely get through 2-3 miles when, "Uh oh!" I barely made it home today, and the closer I got to the house, the worse things became. I could hardly bend over to get my house key out of my shoe pocket. Then it was, "Get the hell outta my way! Clear a path, I'm comin' through!!" Cats were scattering, various pieces of running attire were being flung hither and yond. I'm going to have to reconfigure my runs so that I'm near Safeway when things start movin' and shakin'.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
I'm Starting a Petition to Ban Cell Phones
This article is great! Get Rid of Your Cell Phone
People + Cell Phones = Obnoxious. Very rarely do I ever talk on mine period, let alone in public. As indicated in the article, I do believe they are good to have for emergencies, or, like for me, I carry mine when I'm running by myself, for that "just in case" moment. But for people who live and breath with their cell phones - I think intense therapy is called for.
People + Cell Phones = Obnoxious. Very rarely do I ever talk on mine period, let alone in public. As indicated in the article, I do believe they are good to have for emergencies, or, like for me, I carry mine when I'm running by myself, for that "just in case" moment. But for people who live and breath with their cell phones - I think intense therapy is called for.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Body Comp and Fitness Analysis
Participated in the Body Comp and Aerobic Fitness Analysis at the Human Performance Lab at Humboldt State University. Wanted to know what my ratio of fat was in my body, as well as get the whole VO2max info for better heart rate training.
Two components were not up and running - the dunk tank and the nutritional analysis. The dunk tank and Bod Pod essentially do the same thing, and I've been invited back after the first of the year to complete the nutritional analysis at no cost. Nice!
The Bod Pod: Kind of glad I didn't know I needed a bathing suit, 'cause the only one I have is a backyard only 2 piece, and it would have been very uncomfortable hanging out with the two young men who did this test. So instead I was given this very stylish (not!) one piece thing that looks like a one-piece bathing suit with the leg parts coming a little less than halfway down the thighs, plus I put on a plastic shower cap (like you get in hotels) then an even tighter black cap (think swimming) on top of that. Yes, I was looking like quite the hot ticket. Oh, baby!! I had to hold those boys back! One thing about the suit - very unforgiving with rolls and such, so it makes you want to stand up straight and keep things sucked in.
The Bod Pod looks like an oversized egg with a window. Your height and weight gets entered into the computer, then you sit in the Pod and it's filled with air. To explain as best as I understand - Air is pumped in (somehow) and the displacement of that air tells the system what your fat/lean ratio is when combined with your height/weight. There were problems with the calibration of the system, so this took awhile to fix, and the guy running the program (Peter, who was a cutie) had to come in and get it to work right. So I get to stand around in all my tight suit/headdress glory in front of two good looking young men and one "my age" good looking man. Nothin' you can do but joke around at that point. I am happy to say, though, that my scale at home is right on the dot with weight. The results:
Fat Weight: 38.5 lbs.
Lean Weight: 103.7 lbs.
Total Weight: 142.3 lbs.
Height: 68 in
Percent Fat: 27.1%
Percent Lean: 72.9%
Moderately Lean Category - Fat level acceptable for good health. With activity level, should be consuming approximately 2235 calories a day.
Metabolic Test: Wore shorts, running shoes, and sports bra. Had a shirt on, but had to take it off. 6-8 pads are stuck to you at various points to which electrodes will be hooked up. This is done in a separate room as the actual test. I then walk into the main room where the treadmill, etc., is, and there are probably 8 people (students and Peter) all looking at me. Great! I get to do this in front of an audience! Blood pressure is taken, questions are asked: “How do you warm up, how long?” “Brisk walk, 5 min.” “What’s your average pace when running?” “About 10:00/10:08:” “Can I use my inhaler?” “Yes.” and back and forth. For the initial blood pressure before the test starts, they have you hyperventilate for about 20 seconds. Well, my friends, I have never done this before, and let me tell you - boy howdy!! Talk about a “high!” Dang.
When I finally got myself under control, we did the warm up. Then we came to more beautification. Not only do I have a blood pressure cuff taped to me, but I have all these electrodes stuck to me then held in place with an ace bandage. Then came the head gear. It’s like the bands inside a hard hat. Attached to that is this “appendage” with a mouthpiece like you would find on diving gear or a snorkel and this hard plastic piece extends beyond that. You put the mouthpiece in your mouth as you put the band part over your head then tighten it down. They then hook a tube up to the side of the hard plastic extension and this is where your in-and-out air passes through. Then they put a clamp on your nose so that you’re only breathing through your mouth. Comfy? Um, yeah. I made the mistake of swallowing after the nose clamp was put in place and my ears plugged up.
They taped to the window in front of me a chart that basically goes from 6 to 20 and at various points says “Like sitting on the couch (6).” “Light(7).” “Fairly difficult.” “Very difficult,” etc., up to something like “I feel like I’m dying (20).” They start the treadmill and very quickly you’re at your regular running pace. Wait 2 minutes, take blood pressure (yes, while running), raise the incline. Wait 2 minutes, take blood pressure, raise the incline, over and over. In the meantime, a student is standing there and every 2 minutes asking you where you are on the aforementioned chart. You give hand signals. This scenario continues until you give them the “I’m done” signal (slash across the neck). I ended up with snot coming out of my pinched nose, and because I couldn’t swallow well, drool rolling down my chin. Wiped off a big old loogy at one point. Felt like a St. Bernard.
In the end, I ran for 8:48 before I was done, but forgot to ask what the incline grade was at the end. Peter (the instructor) was impressed with how fast my heart rate went down, and within a few minutes, I felt like I could go again. My heart rate went from a low of 109 (hyperventilation) to a high of 179. I gave all the printed out info to my coach, and he’s helping me figure everything else out, but he was impressed with the rate at which my HR went up during the test. Again, says it shows I'm in good condition. He sent me some other info, but I can't open it with my program at home, so will have to check it out tomorrow at work.
All in all, a fun experience, and I will probably do the treadmill test again in another 3-6 months to see how things change.
'Nother thing - within the last 5 (?) months, my resting heart rate has gone from 48 to 42.
Two components were not up and running - the dunk tank and the nutritional analysis. The dunk tank and Bod Pod essentially do the same thing, and I've been invited back after the first of the year to complete the nutritional analysis at no cost. Nice!
The Bod Pod: Kind of glad I didn't know I needed a bathing suit, 'cause the only one I have is a backyard only 2 piece, and it would have been very uncomfortable hanging out with the two young men who did this test. So instead I was given this very stylish (not!) one piece thing that looks like a one-piece bathing suit with the leg parts coming a little less than halfway down the thighs, plus I put on a plastic shower cap (like you get in hotels) then an even tighter black cap (think swimming) on top of that. Yes, I was looking like quite the hot ticket. Oh, baby!! I had to hold those boys back! One thing about the suit - very unforgiving with rolls and such, so it makes you want to stand up straight and keep things sucked in.
The Bod Pod looks like an oversized egg with a window. Your height and weight gets entered into the computer, then you sit in the Pod and it's filled with air. To explain as best as I understand - Air is pumped in (somehow) and the displacement of that air tells the system what your fat/lean ratio is when combined with your height/weight. There were problems with the calibration of the system, so this took awhile to fix, and the guy running the program (Peter, who was a cutie) had to come in and get it to work right. So I get to stand around in all my tight suit/headdress glory in front of two good looking young men and one "my age" good looking man. Nothin' you can do but joke around at that point. I am happy to say, though, that my scale at home is right on the dot with weight. The results:
Fat Weight: 38.5 lbs.
Lean Weight: 103.7 lbs.
Total Weight: 142.3 lbs.
Height: 68 in
Percent Fat: 27.1%
Percent Lean: 72.9%
Moderately Lean Category - Fat level acceptable for good health. With activity level, should be consuming approximately 2235 calories a day.
Metabolic Test: Wore shorts, running shoes, and sports bra. Had a shirt on, but had to take it off. 6-8 pads are stuck to you at various points to which electrodes will be hooked up. This is done in a separate room as the actual test. I then walk into the main room where the treadmill, etc., is, and there are probably 8 people (students and Peter) all looking at me. Great! I get to do this in front of an audience! Blood pressure is taken, questions are asked: “How do you warm up, how long?” “Brisk walk, 5 min.” “What’s your average pace when running?” “About 10:00/10:08:” “Can I use my inhaler?” “Yes.” and back and forth. For the initial blood pressure before the test starts, they have you hyperventilate for about 20 seconds. Well, my friends, I have never done this before, and let me tell you - boy howdy!! Talk about a “high!” Dang.
When I finally got myself under control, we did the warm up. Then we came to more beautification. Not only do I have a blood pressure cuff taped to me, but I have all these electrodes stuck to me then held in place with an ace bandage. Then came the head gear. It’s like the bands inside a hard hat. Attached to that is this “appendage” with a mouthpiece like you would find on diving gear or a snorkel and this hard plastic piece extends beyond that. You put the mouthpiece in your mouth as you put the band part over your head then tighten it down. They then hook a tube up to the side of the hard plastic extension and this is where your in-and-out air passes through. Then they put a clamp on your nose so that you’re only breathing through your mouth. Comfy? Um, yeah. I made the mistake of swallowing after the nose clamp was put in place and my ears plugged up.
They taped to the window in front of me a chart that basically goes from 6 to 20 and at various points says “Like sitting on the couch (6).” “Light(7).” “Fairly difficult.” “Very difficult,” etc., up to something like “I feel like I’m dying (20).” They start the treadmill and very quickly you’re at your regular running pace. Wait 2 minutes, take blood pressure (yes, while running), raise the incline. Wait 2 minutes, take blood pressure, raise the incline, over and over. In the meantime, a student is standing there and every 2 minutes asking you where you are on the aforementioned chart. You give hand signals. This scenario continues until you give them the “I’m done” signal (slash across the neck). I ended up with snot coming out of my pinched nose, and because I couldn’t swallow well, drool rolling down my chin. Wiped off a big old loogy at one point. Felt like a St. Bernard.
In the end, I ran for 8:48 before I was done, but forgot to ask what the incline grade was at the end. Peter (the instructor) was impressed with how fast my heart rate went down, and within a few minutes, I felt like I could go again. My heart rate went from a low of 109 (hyperventilation) to a high of 179. I gave all the printed out info to my coach, and he’s helping me figure everything else out, but he was impressed with the rate at which my HR went up during the test. Again, says it shows I'm in good condition. He sent me some other info, but I can't open it with my program at home, so will have to check it out tomorrow at work.
All in all, a fun experience, and I will probably do the treadmill test again in another 3-6 months to see how things change.
'Nother thing - within the last 5 (?) months, my resting heart rate has gone from 48 to 42.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Bizz Johnson Trail Marathon
BIZZ JOHNSON MARATHON
October 12, 2008
Susanville, California
Although I’ve participated in two (finished one) 50k trail runs, Bizz Johnson was my first official marathon. As always with me, I was full of nervous excitement for the couple of weeks leading up to the race. The marathon is run on a rails-to-trails system, and is imperceptibly downhill after a slight, hardly noticeable incline over the first few miles.
Susanville sits at the edge of Lassen National Park, at an elevation of a little over 4100 feet. The race starts at a little over 5000 feet, and you end up with a total elevation drop at the end of approximately 1300 feet. It’s a gorgeous place with lots of Ponderosa Pines (one of my favorite trees), aspen, and open prairies.
I left on Friday and drove 3.5 hours to my niece’s house in Ft. Jones, spent the night with her, and on Saturday, drove the 3.5 hours over to Susanville. It was a beautiful drive that took me right past snow-capped Mt. Shasta - which gave me the shivers.
I already knew it would be cold for the run, as my water bottle, which I had left in my car at my niece’s, was almost frozen solid when I left her place at 10:00 a.m. I was not looking forward to that aspect of the run.
My coach, Bill, was driving to Susanville on Saturday, and we ended up in town right around the same time, and eventually caught up with one another around 2:00. There had been an express ½ that same day, and many of the runners had requested a late checkout at the hotel where we were staying. Since we couldn’t check in yet, we headed over to the Train Depot to pick up our bib numbers, and I readied my drop bags. There were going to be three drop bag sites. I was used to a single bag being taken to the various stations, so this was the first time I had ever had to figure out 3 different bags and what I would need at that point in the run. Yeah, basically a crap shoot. In the end, I ended up not doing too bad on the guessing.
Before leaving, we visited the “expo tent” being run by Fleet Feet, and I snagged a couple of pairs of Injinji socks for only $5 each! I had just bought 2 pair from ZombieRunner for something like $12-$14 each, plus the cost of shipping. I probably should’ve grabbed more, but I didn’t want to be a sock pig. :o)
Figuring we’d probably wasted enough time, Bill and I headed back to the hotel, checked in, and hung out talking for a little while. My room ended up being right next to the laundry room, which brought it’s own surprises. First, when I got there, the toilet was full of suds. Perplexing, yes, but I figured the cleaning person had forgotten to flush or something. However, when I flushed the toilet, it didn’t seem to want to drain properly, and I thought the thing was going to overflow. Then, while Bill and I were sitting in the room talking, I heard this gurgling noise coming from the bathroom. Went to investigate, and the toilet water is actually bubbling! Like someone with a really big straw was on the other end blowing air into it. Ends up they’d been having problems with the drainage between the toilet and the washer. Luckily, I never had any significant problems, but it did give me worries a couple times during the rest of my stay.
Also, when the washers would go into spin cycle, the wall that the beds were against would start vibrating like crazy. I told Bill, “Yee haw! Free vibrating bed, and I didn’t even have to put a quarter in anything!!”
He took off after awhile to grab some food for himself for the next morning, and when he got back we headed over to the Black Bear Diner, stuffed ourselves, bid each other ‘nite, and headed off to get some sleep before the long day.
Sunday dawned a tad overcast . . . and freaking cold! When we left the hotel at 7:00 a.m., it was 18 degrees outside! 18 frigging degrees!! I had on my winter running tights, a pair of running pants, a long sleeve tech shirt, a thicker tech pullover, a sweatshirt, and gloves, and I was freezing my rear end off. People were hanging out in the Train Depot building trying to stay warm until we hopped on the shuttles to head to the start of the race.
There were 4 races that day: a 5k, 10k, and Half, which were each out/backs, and the marathon, which was a one-way ticket. Soon everyone was being herded onto the shuttles, and I ended up sitting next to 3 guys from the Fresno area, who were really nice and fun to talk to. When one of them was using the bus facilities, the another told me they expected him to finish the race in about 2:45. I just shook my head, hoping I’d finish in my desired 5.5 hours.
Once we got to the start, I headed off to use Mother Nature’s restroom as opposed to standing in line for 10-15 minutes waiting for a stinky porta toilet. Many of us chose the first option, so you had to pick your tree carefully, lest you find someone else baring all on the other side. I then began reluctantly peeling off layers and put my extra clothes in a bag and into the trailer that would be hauling them back to the finish. The RD eventually called us over to the starting line, gave us the requisite last minute instructions, we sang the National Anthem (a first for me at a race), and then we were off!
Having never run the upcoming distance on flat terrain before, I was going to start out nice and slow and try to pick up the pace as I determined how I was feeling. Whenever I’ve run trail events, I’m usually by myself pretty much from the beginning. With this, there were a lot of people around me, and it was hard not getting sucked into somebody else’s rhythm and pace.
We headed off down a dirt road for the first .9 miles, then turned around, went .5 miles back, and then hit the trail. I looked in front of me and saw a very long, very straight, well, almost more of a dirt road than a trail, and realized how much more of a mental game this would be. When you’re running trails, you usually can’t see that far in front of you.
This felt like you could see for miles ahead of you - 26.2 miles to be exact. The good thing about it, though, was that people were in front of and behind me almost the entire time. Rarely did I go far without seeing another runner. I was feeling really good about my pace, but I was so cold. I felt like I just could not get warm.
At the Mile 12 aid station (there were stations every 2 miles), I picked up Stan, who worked for BLM (?) and was riding his bike up and down the trail taking pictures of runners and making sure the aid station workers were doing okay. He ended up riding with me for maybe half a mile. I said something about it being so cold, and he informed me that at that point we’d only dropped about 100 feet in elevation. However, by the time we got done, we’d end up dropping about 1300 feet, and once we dropped down into the canyon, it’d be warmer - only that was a ways away.
Stan eventually left me, and I proceeded on my own, passing a runner here and there, getting passed as well. There seemed to be a core group of us (maybe 6-7) who passed one another at various points until about Mile 18, when I eventually was left in their dust. Right before the Mile 16 aid station, I started having trouble with my left hip flexor, which I knew was not a good thing, and was where my race started falling apart. I ended up laying on the ground for a few minutes at the aid station trying to stretch things out, and tried various standing stretches at different points along the trail.
By Mile/Station 18, I could run - though not well - for a short while then BAM! It’d feel like someone stuck a pointed sharp object right in my left butt cheek and it would literally stop me in my tracks with a few 4-letter words. Let me tell you, it hurt! I would walk for maybe 30 seconds to a minute and start a slow run again. I never knew how far I’d be able to go before THERE IT WAS AGAIN! GOTCHA! This little scenario would play itself out for the rest of the race.
This had happened to me once almost 2 years before. Only that time, things got so bad, that once I stopped running, my entire left hip seized up on me and I literally could barely walk for about 3 days and I couldn’t run for a month. It was extremely painful, and the thought of that happening again scared the crap out of me. Plus, we had been told that if we decided to drop from the race, we needed to make it to at least Mile 20 to get a ride back to the finish before the end of the race. Otherwise, we would have to stay at whichever aid station we’d dropped at until the end of the race, which had a 7-hour time limit. When I got to Mile 20, I figured I’d gone this far, I was going to make it the final 6.2 miles no matter what. . . . . although, I have to say that the ambulance waiting at that station was a very tempting sight, indeed! (Kidding!)
Around Miles 21-23, the trail took us through two tunnels. Strangely enough, I felt unbelievable great running through each tunnel. It was like I had some kind of renewed energy, and I really wished they were longer. Maybe it was because you could see the light at the end, I don’t know. The feeling I got is hard to explain, and I still don’t understand it. But I do remember that it wasn’t until around this time that my hands finally warmed up and I took off my gloves. It literally took me over 20 miles before I finally felt warm.
With a little less than 1.5 miles to go, I came up on a guy who was really struggling. As I pulled up along side him, I asked if he was running the race and he was. His name was Aaron, he was from the Bay Area, and, from what he said, I don’t think he’d run anything longer than a 10k before. He told me there were parts of his body hurting that he didn’t know could hurt. I was laughing and told him I felt the same way, then asked if he wanted to limp/walk/run the rest of the way together. When you’re struggling yourself, and someone comes along who can sympathize, knows what you’re going through, it gives you a kind of energy. Aaron and I ended up running that last bit faster than I thought possible. And if it wasn’t for the fact that another zinger launched itself into my ass, we probably would’ve made it in under 6 hours. As it was, for the last quarter mile we were doing a 10:08 pace, which shocked the hell out of me, and we crossed the finish line together in 6:00:15 and received our finisher’s medal - a wooden train whistle with Bizz Johnson Trail Marathon on one side and 2008 Finisher on the other side. Very cool.
Although I was (and sort of still am) disappointed with my time, I’m proud of myself for finishing. The next day, my hip felt like someone had kicked the crap out of me, and it was tough walking around, let alone sitting for the 5.5 hour drive home. Lots of stop-and-walk breaks. I did, however, console myself that night with a big container of mini powdered sugar donuts and ice cold milk. Oh, they tasted so good!!
Would I ever run Bizz Johnson again? I don’t know. I don’t like being that cold for so long, I think a lot of precious energy was expended trying to stay warm. Plus the long, straight, you-can-see-forever aspect was mentally hard. I don’t know how people run road marathons with miles of asphalt in their face. But it’s a beautiful course, and if those two things don’t bother you, I highly recommend it.
October 12, 2008
Susanville, California
Although I’ve participated in two (finished one) 50k trail runs, Bizz Johnson was my first official marathon. As always with me, I was full of nervous excitement for the couple of weeks leading up to the race. The marathon is run on a rails-to-trails system, and is imperceptibly downhill after a slight, hardly noticeable incline over the first few miles.
Susanville sits at the edge of Lassen National Park, at an elevation of a little over 4100 feet. The race starts at a little over 5000 feet, and you end up with a total elevation drop at the end of approximately 1300 feet. It’s a gorgeous place with lots of Ponderosa Pines (one of my favorite trees), aspen, and open prairies.
I left on Friday and drove 3.5 hours to my niece’s house in Ft. Jones, spent the night with her, and on Saturday, drove the 3.5 hours over to Susanville. It was a beautiful drive that took me right past snow-capped Mt. Shasta - which gave me the shivers.
I already knew it would be cold for the run, as my water bottle, which I had left in my car at my niece’s, was almost frozen solid when I left her place at 10:00 a.m. I was not looking forward to that aspect of the run.
My coach, Bill, was driving to Susanville on Saturday, and we ended up in town right around the same time, and eventually caught up with one another around 2:00. There had been an express ½ that same day, and many of the runners had requested a late checkout at the hotel where we were staying. Since we couldn’t check in yet, we headed over to the Train Depot to pick up our bib numbers, and I readied my drop bags. There were going to be three drop bag sites. I was used to a single bag being taken to the various stations, so this was the first time I had ever had to figure out 3 different bags and what I would need at that point in the run. Yeah, basically a crap shoot. In the end, I ended up not doing too bad on the guessing.
Before leaving, we visited the “expo tent” being run by Fleet Feet, and I snagged a couple of pairs of Injinji socks for only $5 each! I had just bought 2 pair from ZombieRunner for something like $12-$14 each, plus the cost of shipping. I probably should’ve grabbed more, but I didn’t want to be a sock pig. :o)
Figuring we’d probably wasted enough time, Bill and I headed back to the hotel, checked in, and hung out talking for a little while. My room ended up being right next to the laundry room, which brought it’s own surprises. First, when I got there, the toilet was full of suds. Perplexing, yes, but I figured the cleaning person had forgotten to flush or something. However, when I flushed the toilet, it didn’t seem to want to drain properly, and I thought the thing was going to overflow. Then, while Bill and I were sitting in the room talking, I heard this gurgling noise coming from the bathroom. Went to investigate, and the toilet water is actually bubbling! Like someone with a really big straw was on the other end blowing air into it. Ends up they’d been having problems with the drainage between the toilet and the washer. Luckily, I never had any significant problems, but it did give me worries a couple times during the rest of my stay.
Also, when the washers would go into spin cycle, the wall that the beds were against would start vibrating like crazy. I told Bill, “Yee haw! Free vibrating bed, and I didn’t even have to put a quarter in anything!!”
He took off after awhile to grab some food for himself for the next morning, and when he got back we headed over to the Black Bear Diner, stuffed ourselves, bid each other ‘nite, and headed off to get some sleep before the long day.
Sunday dawned a tad overcast . . . and freaking cold! When we left the hotel at 7:00 a.m., it was 18 degrees outside! 18 frigging degrees!! I had on my winter running tights, a pair of running pants, a long sleeve tech shirt, a thicker tech pullover, a sweatshirt, and gloves, and I was freezing my rear end off. People were hanging out in the Train Depot building trying to stay warm until we hopped on the shuttles to head to the start of the race.
There were 4 races that day: a 5k, 10k, and Half, which were each out/backs, and the marathon, which was a one-way ticket. Soon everyone was being herded onto the shuttles, and I ended up sitting next to 3 guys from the Fresno area, who were really nice and fun to talk to. When one of them was using the bus facilities, the another told me they expected him to finish the race in about 2:45. I just shook my head, hoping I’d finish in my desired 5.5 hours.
Once we got to the start, I headed off to use Mother Nature’s restroom as opposed to standing in line for 10-15 minutes waiting for a stinky porta toilet. Many of us chose the first option, so you had to pick your tree carefully, lest you find someone else baring all on the other side. I then began reluctantly peeling off layers and put my extra clothes in a bag and into the trailer that would be hauling them back to the finish. The RD eventually called us over to the starting line, gave us the requisite last minute instructions, we sang the National Anthem (a first for me at a race), and then we were off!
Having never run the upcoming distance on flat terrain before, I was going to start out nice and slow and try to pick up the pace as I determined how I was feeling. Whenever I’ve run trail events, I’m usually by myself pretty much from the beginning. With this, there were a lot of people around me, and it was hard not getting sucked into somebody else’s rhythm and pace.
We headed off down a dirt road for the first .9 miles, then turned around, went .5 miles back, and then hit the trail. I looked in front of me and saw a very long, very straight, well, almost more of a dirt road than a trail, and realized how much more of a mental game this would be. When you’re running trails, you usually can’t see that far in front of you.
This felt like you could see for miles ahead of you - 26.2 miles to be exact. The good thing about it, though, was that people were in front of and behind me almost the entire time. Rarely did I go far without seeing another runner. I was feeling really good about my pace, but I was so cold. I felt like I just could not get warm.
At the Mile 12 aid station (there were stations every 2 miles), I picked up Stan, who worked for BLM (?) and was riding his bike up and down the trail taking pictures of runners and making sure the aid station workers were doing okay. He ended up riding with me for maybe half a mile. I said something about it being so cold, and he informed me that at that point we’d only dropped about 100 feet in elevation. However, by the time we got done, we’d end up dropping about 1300 feet, and once we dropped down into the canyon, it’d be warmer - only that was a ways away.
Stan eventually left me, and I proceeded on my own, passing a runner here and there, getting passed as well. There seemed to be a core group of us (maybe 6-7) who passed one another at various points until about Mile 18, when I eventually was left in their dust. Right before the Mile 16 aid station, I started having trouble with my left hip flexor, which I knew was not a good thing, and was where my race started falling apart. I ended up laying on the ground for a few minutes at the aid station trying to stretch things out, and tried various standing stretches at different points along the trail.
By Mile/Station 18, I could run - though not well - for a short while then BAM! It’d feel like someone stuck a pointed sharp object right in my left butt cheek and it would literally stop me in my tracks with a few 4-letter words. Let me tell you, it hurt! I would walk for maybe 30 seconds to a minute and start a slow run again. I never knew how far I’d be able to go before THERE IT WAS AGAIN! GOTCHA! This little scenario would play itself out for the rest of the race.
This had happened to me once almost 2 years before. Only that time, things got so bad, that once I stopped running, my entire left hip seized up on me and I literally could barely walk for about 3 days and I couldn’t run for a month. It was extremely painful, and the thought of that happening again scared the crap out of me. Plus, we had been told that if we decided to drop from the race, we needed to make it to at least Mile 20 to get a ride back to the finish before the end of the race. Otherwise, we would have to stay at whichever aid station we’d dropped at until the end of the race, which had a 7-hour time limit. When I got to Mile 20, I figured I’d gone this far, I was going to make it the final 6.2 miles no matter what. . . . . although, I have to say that the ambulance waiting at that station was a very tempting sight, indeed! (Kidding!)
Around Miles 21-23, the trail took us through two tunnels. Strangely enough, I felt unbelievable great running through each tunnel. It was like I had some kind of renewed energy, and I really wished they were longer. Maybe it was because you could see the light at the end, I don’t know. The feeling I got is hard to explain, and I still don’t understand it. But I do remember that it wasn’t until around this time that my hands finally warmed up and I took off my gloves. It literally took me over 20 miles before I finally felt warm.
With a little less than 1.5 miles to go, I came up on a guy who was really struggling. As I pulled up along side him, I asked if he was running the race and he was. His name was Aaron, he was from the Bay Area, and, from what he said, I don’t think he’d run anything longer than a 10k before. He told me there were parts of his body hurting that he didn’t know could hurt. I was laughing and told him I felt the same way, then asked if he wanted to limp/walk/run the rest of the way together. When you’re struggling yourself, and someone comes along who can sympathize, knows what you’re going through, it gives you a kind of energy. Aaron and I ended up running that last bit faster than I thought possible. And if it wasn’t for the fact that another zinger launched itself into my ass, we probably would’ve made it in under 6 hours. As it was, for the last quarter mile we were doing a 10:08 pace, which shocked the hell out of me, and we crossed the finish line together in 6:00:15 and received our finisher’s medal - a wooden train whistle with Bizz Johnson Trail Marathon on one side and 2008 Finisher on the other side. Very cool.
Although I was (and sort of still am) disappointed with my time, I’m proud of myself for finishing. The next day, my hip felt like someone had kicked the crap out of me, and it was tough walking around, let alone sitting for the 5.5 hour drive home. Lots of stop-and-walk breaks. I did, however, console myself that night with a big container of mini powdered sugar donuts and ice cold milk. Oh, they tasted so good!!
Would I ever run Bizz Johnson again? I don’t know. I don’t like being that cold for so long, I think a lot of precious energy was expended trying to stay warm. Plus the long, straight, you-can-see-forever aspect was mentally hard. I don’t know how people run road marathons with miles of asphalt in their face. But it’s a beautiful course, and if those two things don’t bother you, I highly recommend it.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
The Great Debate
The great debate continues over on RunningAhead - Is it beneficial or detrimental to run 20 miles or more or over 4 hours in a marathon training long run? Some vehemently insist that if you don't run atleast 20 miles a couple of times while training, then you are undertraining. Others, such as my coach, insist that if you run more than 18 miles or longer than 3.5 hours, it takes your body too long to recover and can, therefore, be detrimental to your training. Meaning, you would have to back off the long runs too far in advance of your intended race in order for your body to sufficiently recover. (Am I making sense?) He insists that this will not change unless I pop up to the 50-mile distances. (And yes, the thought does enter my drain bamaged mind, even though I only have one successful 50k completion - and I pooped and peed and puked all over myself in the process. . . . . Hell yeah I had fun!!!)
I suppose there will never be a definitive answer accepted by everyone, but I find people's opinions on the subject quite interesting, with each person standing firmly on his or her side of the fence not budging one iota.
And on the subject of long distances - Bizz Johnson is less than 2 weeks away. Egads! It's a Boston qualifier, so I looked up the time requirements for qualifying - oh yeah! That was a real knee slapper! And no, qualifying is definitely not in the cards. However, I am hopeful that I will finish in 5 - 5 1/2 hrs. We'll see!
I suppose there will never be a definitive answer accepted by everyone, but I find people's opinions on the subject quite interesting, with each person standing firmly on his or her side of the fence not budging one iota.
And on the subject of long distances - Bizz Johnson is less than 2 weeks away. Egads! It's a Boston qualifier, so I looked up the time requirements for qualifying - oh yeah! That was a real knee slapper! And no, qualifying is definitely not in the cards. However, I am hopeful that I will finish in 5 - 5 1/2 hrs. We'll see!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Life Is . . .
Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.
Life is beauty, admire it.
Life is bliss, taste it.
Life is a dream, realize it.
Life is a challenge, meet it.
Life is a duty, complete it.
Life is a game, play it.
Life is a promise, fulfill it.
Life is sorrow, overcome it.
Life is a song, sing it.
Life is a struggle, accept it.
Life is a tragedy, confront it.
Life is an adventure, dare it.
Life is luck, make it.
Life is too precious, do not destroy it.
Life is life, fight for it.
(Mother Teresa)
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
The Ridiculous Vanity of Women (Me Included)
Against my better judgment, this morning I walked out of the house wearing these stupid high heel boots and butt floss underwear, both of which I knew would be uncomfortable from the get go (I hate butt floss underwear) (Is this TMI??). Anyway, before I had even walked from my bedroom to the living room (all of 10 feet?), it was apparent this was a bad idea, but I did it anyway. Why? Because the boots looked good with the pants I chose to wear, and the butt floss eliminated that barely-there-but-still-unsightly-panty-line. So now I am sitting here at work, horribly uncomfortable, impatiently waiting for my lunch hour so that I can dash down to Target and eliminate at least one of the uncomfortable aspects of today’s attire.
And while I sit willing myself to not go to the bathroom yet again in a vain attempt to eliminate the butt floss, I ask, Why? Why do we women put ourselves through all this crap? Why do we intentionally do things like cram something akin to a thin rope up the crack of our butt, all for the sake of vanity? Most times the saner side of me prevails and comfort wins. But once in awhile the Vanity Demon gets a strangle hold on my common sense, and with every single step I take that particular day I regret the choices I have made. Sure, like most women, my legs look half way decent in high heels, but who can see my legs when I’m wearing pants?? And as far as the butt floss goes - well . . .there really is no good excuse.
Guys don’t do stupid stuff like this to themselves. The Hub actually looks at me at times and just shakes his head. I asked him about the whole butt floss thing the other day, and he said he didn’t understand the attraction some guys have for it - - he’s more of a commando type guy. Well, thanks for the 411 on that, but it ain’t gonna be happening. At least not when I’m in public.
So here I sit . . . counting down the minutes . . . telling myself, “Never again!” Yeah, right.
And while I sit willing myself to not go to the bathroom yet again in a vain attempt to eliminate the butt floss, I ask, Why? Why do we women put ourselves through all this crap? Why do we intentionally do things like cram something akin to a thin rope up the crack of our butt, all for the sake of vanity? Most times the saner side of me prevails and comfort wins. But once in awhile the Vanity Demon gets a strangle hold on my common sense, and with every single step I take that particular day I regret the choices I have made. Sure, like most women, my legs look half way decent in high heels, but who can see my legs when I’m wearing pants?? And as far as the butt floss goes - well . . .there really is no good excuse.
Guys don’t do stupid stuff like this to themselves. The Hub actually looks at me at times and just shakes his head. I asked him about the whole butt floss thing the other day, and he said he didn’t understand the attraction some guys have for it - - he’s more of a commando type guy. Well, thanks for the 411 on that, but it ain’t gonna be happening. At least not when I’m in public.
So here I sit . . . counting down the minutes . . . telling myself, “Never again!” Yeah, right.
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