Getting a PR despite my own stupidity

My new nutrition plan was a bust. Without getting too graphic, it was painful and explosive.

There is a racing axiom: don't try something new on race day. In my enthusiasm, I lost my senses and did it anyway. Three days of carbo-loading before the race and massive amounts of carbs the night before.

The morning of the race, I woke at 3 a.m. to eat first breakfast: 3 weight-loss shakes, a double bowl of raisin bran and 32 oz. water. At 5 a.m., I was supposed to eat more, but couldn't. I sucked down a chocolate milk and hoped it was enough. Whenever I think of second breakfast, I think of hobbits. At 6 a.m., an hour before the race, I had a banana and 16 oz. water. That was it until 10 minutes before the race, when I had 10 oz. of Gatorade.

And we're off. I'm running with my young and speedy friend Nick. It's Nick's first marathon and he's busting at the seams with enthusiasm. I'm busting at the seams with carbs, but I feel okay at this point.

His enthusiasm calls him, like a siren, to what I feel will be his doom: 15 seconds faster than our planned race pace. I lose him by mile 3. He will go on to finish in 3:23. It's going to be a lonely day. My day becomes a lot lonelier as soon as I realize that I need to go to the bathroom. Number two.

I'm able to hold out for a while. I see my lovely wife and kids at about mile 6. I hit a set of public restrooms. What's behind door #1? I can't tell 'cause it's locked. Damn. Door #2? Locked. Door #3 holds the prize: a stainless steel toilet with no sink. I guess I'll use my left hand to grab water and Gu.

I check my watch to see how much time I'll lose. It ends up taking me about 90 seconds. Damn. My splits so far: 7:52, 7:49, 7:47, 15:47 (for two miles), 8:01, and 9:09 for the bathroom-interrupted mile. That's okay. I'm still on pace for sub-3:30.

I get back on the course and fight the urge to make up time. 7:50, 7:49, and I can't believe I have to go again! Same drill with the restrooms, but this time it's behind door #2. This delay is almost two minutes. I hit the button for mile 10 and come in at 9:25. The bad news is that my stomach still feels upset. The good news is that I'm otherwise right on pace, so I should still break 3:30.

Back on the route. My stomach's bothering me. I'm also a little worried about my calves because they feel tight. I have the iPod Nano on now. "Love Song," the 311 remake. I play it twice because it reminds me of my wife. 7:42, 7:43.

I see my father, who is attending one of my races for the first time. He was lamenting the fact that he had no pictures of me running, so I invited him to take some. I try to look cool despite my stomach, bowels and calves. I fake it okay, because I don't look like I'm in pain in the photo. At mile 13, I really have to go again. I can't believe it. Not a bathroom or portable toilet in sight. 7:50.

At the next turn, the 1,000 marathon runners have joined the 10,000 half-marathon runners. It's bad. I'm weaving in and out of people, trying to hold everything in, thinking about my calves. Why is it that walkers tend to walk five abreast, taking up a full lane?

I'm starting to wonder if I took a wrong turn because I can't see anyone with a marathon number. I only see half-marathoners. This is not the psychological edge I was hoping for. It's hard to run with full effort when you're wondering if you've gone off course. This goes on for a quarter mile until I see another marathoner. I still have my doubts until I see a second, then a third. I reach a mile marker, "Marathon. Mile 14." Whew. 7:58.

Now my stomach is killing me. My calves are still bothering me. I've really go to go. I see the portable toilets, but there's a long line of people. Probably walkers, damn them. I pass it up, trying to remember where the next pots are. I'm hurting so bad now I have to alter my stride.

And there she is: the walker talking on her cell phone. Where do these people come from? It's not exercise if you can simultaneously make a phone call, lady. 7:58.

I'm miserable now. The sun is out. It's warming up. I'm on a slight incline and I can't keep pace because I'm afraid of what might happen to my shorts. There are half-marathoners and walkers everywhere. And cell phone talkers. 8:08. 8:01.

During mile 17, I see them: pots without a line. I find an open one and look at my watch. I finish and look again. Almost two minutes. A 3:30 just went down the pot, but there's hand sanitizer here.

I get out of the pot and I can't believe it: my stomach still hurts. It's even worse now. I hit the 18 marker. 9:42. The next mile is downhill so I can make up some time. I'm running as fast as I can, but I can't reach the pace I want. My legs aren't slowing me. My stomach hurts so badly it's cramping up. 7:46.

I'm in a park now. It's warm, but trees here and there shield me from the sun. I wish my stomach didn't hurt. Every stride is killing my midsection. And I have to go again. I see some restrooms in the park, just a little off the course. Break #4. Just over a minute. I hit the 20 marker at 9:07. I try not to get discouraged. At this point, I'll be lucky to hit 3:35.

The next couple of miles have a lot of uphill. I am now starting to feel fatigued. Miraculously, my stomach no longer hurts. Will that be my last stop? I'm hopeful, but I'm slow. I'm pushing and pushing, but I'm consistently over 8 minute miles. 8:17, 8:35 on the long uphill, 8:10.

Now I turn the corner for the home stretch. It's flat. Incubus's "Drive" is playing, my favorite running song. I hit the repeat and pick up the pace. If I run 8-minute miles, I think I can salvage 3:35.

8:16 at mile 24. I estimate my finish time. I'm at 3:16'45. 2.2 miles at 8 should take me about 18 minutes. Push.

Mile 25 is 8:06 and my cumulative time is 3:25'52. I'm trying to calculate two-tenths of 8 minutes and I don't have the brain power. Just run like hell, but not like last year when you ran like hell for the last mile and ran out of gas with a half-mile to go. Run like almost hell.

I see my buddy Nick's wife and wave at her. I recognize her, in part, because she's wearing the same brown sweater she wore last night. She looks at me like she doesn't know me, but waves back. Wait, she's a woman, so she would not be wearing the same sweater she wore last night. She doesn't know me because she's not Nick's wife. Hello lady, from the delusional but friendly marathon-running stranger.

I hit mile 26. 8:11 for the mile and 3:33'03 overall. Is it fewer than two minutes for .2 miles at this pace? It has to be. I think. I hope. I can see the finish line with its balloon arch. It seems really far away.

Running as fast as I can now, which isn't all that fast. Race volunteers keep saying, "Half-marathoners stay left, marathoners to the right." It seems to have no effect on the half-marathoners. Damn them. Push. And try to look cool as you finish.

I can see the official clock now. It is getting dangerously close to 3:35. I know my time is less than the official clock because it took me several seconds to get to the start line after the gun. Still, it gives me something to shoot for. I see my wife and kids cheering me on.

I run as hard as I can as the clock ticks, 3:34:56, 3:34:57, 3:34:58, 3:34:59, and I hit the finish line. 3:35:00 from the gun, 3:34:46 start to finish, PR by 17 minutes. I'll take it.

Long run and weekly wrap up

Long run was pretty easy this week: 8 miles at marathon pace. Ran our canal course and it was 43 degrees or so with no wind. Nice.

Had some blister issues. On Thursday I used some new socks my wife bought, Champion C9 with a thinner sole. They caused a blister on my left pinkie toe in less than seven miles. The blister was pretty painful, so I switched back to my generic Coolmax socks from Target. I'll stick to these for the race.

Left piriformis is tight, per usual. No issues on the right side.

Final tally: 5.4 miles speed work, 5.7 tempo, 2.8 easy, and 8 long.

A different qualifying time

Every year I run the Baker to Vegas Challenge Cup Relay. I use "every year" loosely, because I started running in early 2004. I guess "every year since 2004" would be more precise.

Baker to Vegas is a 120-mile relay from Baker, California, to Las Vegas, Nevada. My office has fielded a team since 1995. To qualify for the team, you must be one of the top 20 finishers on the qualifier course.

The course is about 5.7 miles, 1.5 uphill. To qualify, you have to run it in about 46-48 minutes. The fastest runners in the office can finish in 35-36 minutes. My threshold the past few years has been 40.

When I first started running, there was something magic and unattainable about a sub-40 qualifier. It seemed to be the mark of "serious" runners in the office.

My first year, I fell far short. My best qualifier was 43:42. I decided I would improve the next year and made 40:04. I planned to break 40 my third year.

Early on my third season, I posted 40:15. I knew that with 3 months to train, I would reach my goal. Of course, a combination of injury and sickness prevented that.

This year, it's been tough to find time for a qualifier. The marathon schedule has interfered. I've also been waiting for the right conditions (cool and overcast), so I can make my goal.

Today I decided, "To hell with the schedule. I'm gonna see how I run." It's lunchtime when I get out. 73 and sunny. Damn. I give up on the sub-40.

I run about a mile-and-a-half warm-up to the start of the course, and I certainly warm up. Time for a heart rate run. 175-180 bpm and see where that puts me.

Go.

First mile: 174 bpm and 6:55. It's warm. Let's see how the next mile goes.

Second mile: High 170s and 7:13. What? My 2-mile landmark must be wrong. Or I must be slow today. I felt like I picked it up that mile.

Third mile: This one's always my Achilles heel. For some reason, I often lose 30 seconds this mile. I don't know why. I need to finish it by 21:00 to break 40. Or is it 20:00? Crap. I wish I kept better track of these things. 6:37. Wow. That mile 2 marker must be wrong.

Fourth mile: start of the uphill. How high do I let the heart rate go? I shouldn't let it go too much over 180. It's not a race. Marathon's in ten days. I switch the watch from split time to total elapsed time. 28:20. It takes me 13-14 minutes from here to the finish. Or is it 12? I'm definitely not making sub-40. I'm not trying to.

Fifth mile (kind of): It's not quite a mile. It's .8 miles of uphill, then almost exactly a mile from the apex of the course to the finish. So it's really the 4.8 mark. I can't remember how long it takes me to get up this hill. I really need to keep better track of these things. I hit the top. 34:04. 34:04? I do know it will take me just over six minutes to get to the finish. So close.

Sixth mile: First half is downhill. Let gravity do the work. Bottom of the hill and on the flat. Don't look at the watch, just run. Okay, I gotta sneak a peek. 38 and change with a quarter-mile to go. Crap this hurts. Don't look down.

Finish-hit-the-button. Look down.

39:58.

Speed work v. blog setup

Speed work is supposed to be challenging. At least so I hear. I don't mean to imply that today's speed work wasn't challenging. It was. I'm just reassuring myself because it was more challenging than I wanted.

5x 1K @ 4:00/per. I made all five within a five-second spread. A little worried on number four that I wouldn't finish #5 at pace. Doubt crept in and so did, "What the hell are you thinking? You can't keep this up." I reminded myself that it was supposed to be hard. Then I finished. Yeah!

I love the self-control you feel running. You may feel bad, you may feel good, but your failures and successes are uniquely yours, not dependent on someone else.

If only setting up a blog with a domain was as simple. There are so many parts to break between domain registrar, web host, and Blogger. So many dependencies. It sometimes takes a while, or an eternity, to figure out what went wrong.

For example, my custom domain broke this morning. I couldn't fix it. Tried a lot of things. None worked. Then one did, but I don't know which. Oh well. Four hours later, it's still working. Don't know why.

Maybe they're not so different. Some days you have it. Some days you don't. Some days you can figure out why. Some days you have no idea.

Another bad long run

Training tip: the night before a long run, eat something. Friday night as I lay in bed obsessing over my blog, I didn't eat dinner. Well, I had a bowl of cereal, but that was it. The next morning, I got down a smoothie before my run. Big mistake.

The combination of bad eating, lack of sleep (only 4 hours or so), and fighting sickness finally caught up with me. I had difficulty running 8:09 for 13. I stopped after 11 and change, and managed only 8:39. Not catastrophic, but two bad long runs in a row don't build confidence. The marathon is 2 weeks from today.

What makes it more demoralizing is that this week was a low mileage week because of the taper. Yassos were 8.5, tempo was 5, and long was 11.5. 25 miles for the week. I'm fighting the urge to do 5 easy on the treadmill to make 30.

I'm still waiting on the new domain. Very disappointing. My new domain is with 1and1.com, and I'm not up after almost 48 hours. With godaddy.com, where I registered my other domains, I could get my blog on the domain within an hour or two. Oh well.

Waiting on the new domain

Spent all night making the site look more spiffy. See my new graphic header?

I bought a new domain. I'm feeling very pro, but looking pretty amateur. Can't have it all. What sucks is that the new domain isn't yet set up for the blog. I mean it's set up, but it's still updating.

Thursday's 5 miles went okay, except that my treadmill's on the blink. The belt is slipping, so it says it's going about 10% faster than it really is. It sucks to run five miles per the treadmill, then run another lap and change to make up the deficit.

It's 1:50 a.m. and I'm supposed to be running in 5 3/4 hours. Yikes. Schedule says 13 miles later this morning. Better get some sleep.

Runner's soliloquy: to skip or not to skip?

I used to love skipping runs. It was like skipping school. But I hate skipping marathon training runs. Which I did today.

So I'm lying in bed, dealing with self-loathing and malaise. I'm fighting terrible allergies, which lead to a sore throat and insomnia. The insomnia leads to fatigue and decreased immune function. The fatigue leads to skipping runs. Which I did today.

One internal voice says, "Sickness above the neck doesn't affect running performance. Get your shoes on."

Another says, "If you run yourself down, you'll get really sick. Marathon day is 17 days away. Don't risk it. Blog about running instead!"

"Wimp."

"Psycho."

"Pantywaist."

"Does anybody use that word anymore?"

I left my gear at work, anyway. Oh well.... I called my wife. She's bringing my shoes. Five quick miles can't hurt.

Battle with the body fat scale

I read in a magazine about body fat scales. My wife saw one on sale and bought it. Instructions say that the body fat meter works by electrical impedance. By measuring the conductivity of your feet, it estimates your body fat. Pretty neat.

Except we're fighting right now. I mean the scale and me, not my wife.

Our beef: you're supposed to measure yourself early in the evening. This is because the scale is calibrated to make accurate body fat measurements when you've been on your feet all day and gravity has caused your blood to concentrate in your lower extremities.

This is a problem for me because I weigh myself in the morning before breakfast. Weighing in first thing in the morning gives me consistent weight readings. But it "increases" my body-fat percentage by about 2%. This is not good for the ego. On the flip side, weighing myself in the evenings makes my body fat reading lower (and hopefully more accurate), but my weight is all over the map depending on when I can squeeze in meals.

I guess I could weigh myself in the morning and measure my body fat at night. But what a pain in the ass that is. I see the irony: a guy who runs 30 miles per week complains about taking ten lousy steps to his scale in the evenings. It's the principle.

Sigh.

Yasso 800s

12 x 800m @ 3:25 = 26.2 @ 3:25:00. This equation summarizes the Yasso 800. I first read about this test in this article.

Yasso 800s are named after Bart Yasso, race manager for Runner's World magazine. He has observed that people who can run ten-to-twelve 800 meter repeats at a 2-minute, 40-second pace can run a marathon in 2 hours, 40 minutes. This assumes a 2:40 rest interval between repeats.

I'm doing my anecdotal validation of the Yasso theory. Today I ran 12 x 800m @ 3:18 with 2:00 rest intervals (I forgot how long the rest interval was supposed to be). The reason I chose to run the 800s at 3:18 was because of an article my friend read at McMillan Running, saying that the Yasso 800 projects a time that's about 5 minutes too fast. Thus, my 3:18 800s will actually result in a 3:23, per McMillan.

My results today were both encouraging and worrisome. By mistakenly running Yassos with a shortened rest interval, I probably intensified the workout. But the workout did not feel hard. In fact, it felt great.

With full rest, I think I could have made 12 x 800s @ 3:10, my usual interval pace. This would make a 3:15 doable. Which means a qualifying marathon 2/4/07. Except for my awful long run this weekend, which convinced me 3:15 was out of the question.

Shit. The taper paranoia is starting to hit. I need to get some sleep.

Two days, zero runs

It's been nice having two days off. I'm lazy, so I love my rest.

Sunday I still felt poorly from the 20-miler on Saturday. My wife and I did some laundry and hung out with friends. I watched some football and baked some bread (my new avocation). Two loaves from different recipes. One was whole wheat and tasted great, but had the shape and consistency of a soft brick. The other tasted pretty good and was soft, but was only 1/3 whole wheat. What's a running baker to do?

I watched the Chargers lose (boo) and the Bears win (who cares). I'm a former Dallas 'burbs resident and lifetime Cowboys fan, but currently live in SoCal. If my team isn't in the mix, I root for the locals. Oh well.

Today I did some work around the house and made some gumbo. I love chicken and andouille gumbo. Not exactly runner's fare, but a man's gotta live. I like the gumbo from The Gumbo Shop in New Orleans. They have a cookbook. I recommend it. Great gumbo recipes using frozen okra and canned tomatoes. Great for SoCal cooks who like low country food.

On weekends I like to make a double batch of the chicken and andouille recipe, eat some for dinner, freeze some for later, and inadvertently get a good buzz while I cook. Get the book, buy a $9 cast-iron skillet (a cheap cooking essential), a 5 1/2 quart enamel cast-iron dutch oven (expensive, but worth it), and get to it. For my double batch, you need a bigger (9 quart) oven, which I found at a Tuesday Morning for about $110.

Tonight I'm drinking Ridge 2004 Geyserville, a bottle my friends brought over yesterday. Yum. My granddad always said odd years for reds, but he was wrong on this one. Forgive me if I digress, but I got a bood guzz going and mo nileage dor the fay.

Bon appetit.

End of the week ... whew

Over 54 miles this week, including the half. Since I start my week on Monday, the half doesn't really count. I'm hurting, though. Thank goodness I'm starting my taper.

Did my 20 today and it was miserable. Temperature was in the low 30s and plenty of wind to make me feel horrible. My head and right ear are still hurting ... 8 hours after the run. To top it off, I ran 2:49 (compared to 2:45 two weeks ago) and only finished 19.75 miles (compared to a true 20). Bummer. At least the Eagles and Ravens lost today.

To think that earlier this week, I was running in 80-degree weather and complaining about it. Tally: 41 miles for the week. 62 miles for the year. Looking forward to two days off and the start of the new season of "24." Go Chargers.

OC Half Marathon 1/7/07

My last race was supposed to be a training run. I ran it with a friend, Nick. Nick is younger and faster than I. His youth and speed make him hard to hold back on a training run. We were supposed to run 7:49/mile, but we ran 7:28. Not too much the worse for wear. I matched or set a PR with this half. I didn't even run it as a race. Not bad.

I say matched or set because I'm not sure about my previous PR. Last summer, I ran a half that was so badly organized that the runners were sent about a mile off the course. After we figured out we were lost, we turned around and eventually found the course. Because I wanted to know my time for 13.1 miles, I went back to the starting line and began again. I ran 1:37, but the race's poor organization gives me little confidence that the course was the right length.

At least now it's official. I ran 1:37:46 chip time and 1:38:22 from the gun. A legitimate PR. I can't wait for this marathon.

Mileage YTD 1/12/07

I made a New Year's Resolution to run 1500 miles this year. Previous years have been in the 700-1000 mile range. Today is an off day, so I can count up miles.

I was sick last week, so I took days off. Last Tuesday, speed work, 4x100 @6:15, 4.5 miles with warm up. Wednesday, easy 3.3 miles (9:08). Sick days. Sunday, OC Half, 13.1 miles.

That paltry 20.9 made me run extra this week, when I have a 20-miler scheduled. Idiot.

This Monday was 6 easy (9:02). Tuesday, 5 at marathon pace (7:45 or so). Wednesday was 5.4 easy (my watch said 4.65 because I accidentally paused it for 0.75). Thursday, those awful 2000s, 5.7 including warm up.

43 miles YTD. Tomorrow is 20 at 8:20 or so. 63 for two weeks. Back on pace.

Today's 2000m repeats sucked

Wanted to go to the track today, but work got in the way. The schedule was 3x 2000m at 6:45/mile with 400m rest intervals. I've decided that 2000m is an awkward distance.

I hate doing speedwork late, especially on a treadmill. I normally run outside during my lunch break. Tonight it was on the treadmill at 9 p.m. I was totally out of my element.

The first 2000 felt horrible. I looked down at my watch and saw my heart rate was about 172. This isn't terribly high for me. I'm normally close to 180 (my feeling crappy threshold) when I do speedwork. Second interval, same story. My third interval had thighs and calves burning. Breathing was rough. I felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. Watch showed 175 bpm. I just don't get it.

At least it's done. Now I have to ride out my post-workout insomnia. Aack. Thbbbt.

Can training go too well?

3:25 or 3:20? This new discovery about qualifying times is really causing me some problems. I've been training for a 3:25 marathon, hoping to make 3:30 at the actual race. I've been remarkably healthy and have missed very few runs. My speeds have been better, generally, than my training schedule has demanded. So I've started wondering if I could run a 3:20 marathon this time.

There are a number of things that make me want to shoot for a qualifying 3:20. First, this training session has gone well. This is not always true. Three of the four guys I'm training with have had to reevaluate their goals because of injury or sickness. Some might not even run. A while back, I had to abandon a marathon halfway through training because I wasn't healthy.

Second, work will start to get crazy for me in February, and will continue to be crazy for several months. This means serious marathon training may be out. My next marathon may not come for a year.

Third, I'm impatient and like instant gratification. If I can make 3:20 now, I will be qualified to run Boston in 2009. Guaranteed. Then if I cut an additional 5 minutes and qualify for 2008, that's icing on the cake.

Oops. I need to read better. The qualifying window for Boston 2009 won't start until September of this year. That means if I can make 3:20 now, I will be qualified for absolutely nothing. Dilemma solved. I run my race and hope to make 3:15 or 3:20 another day.

Long Beach Marathon is in October. Hmmm....

I'm going to run the Boston Marathon

Putting it in writing makes it true, right?

I decided I wanted to run Boston last year, but it seemed unrealistic. My previous two marathons were 4:08 (Chicago 2004) and 3:51 (Pacific Shoreline 2006).

This year, it seems possible. I'm currently training for the Pacific Shoreline Marathon. It's 2/4/07. If things go as scheduled, I should run somewhere between 3:20 and 3:30. Training has gone well.

My Boston qualifying time is 3:15. I know I won't make it this time. If I wait two years and two months (when I turn 40), my qualifying time is 3:20. That five minutes can make a big difference.

Hmm.... Just checked the Boston Athletic Association website. (Thank goodness for tabbed browsing.) It seems for the past year or so, I've misunderstood qualifying. If I run a 3:15 at 37 years, I can run Boston. However, it seems that if I run a 3:20 at 37 years, I can wait until 2009 and run Boston when I'm 40. Woohoo!

Boston, here I come.