I went to (a) run and a race broke out

Golden Flyers 5 and 10 Mile Runners

It's been an interesting and slightly different week on the streets, what with Thanksgiving Day and all. Usually the timelapserunner heads to the LSU Lakes area to get in his training but this week found him running the Tuesday and Thursday workouts in the neighborhood rather than near campus. We learned after our 17 mile run some weeks back that the timelapserunner's body and spirit flag during the week after the long run. So, he was on alert for this effect this past week following the 20-miler. Not to be disappointed, Messrs. Mental and Physical Fatigue showed up, right on schedule.

Two digits and the first one is a 2

Another milepost logged
(Courtesy jshyun @ Flickr)

We're not talking sissy runs any more. No more 4-milers called long runs. We're now emphasizing the word long. In the timelapserunner's brief but exciting history of running, no workout has ever measured its distance in two digits, the first of which was a two. Admittedly, long runs in our marathon training schedule are logged at a modest pace, typically 13 minutes plus per mile. Still, any workout that has you on the street for more than four hours without stopping is not a trivial pursuit. At twenty miles, we're starting to talk about things like hitting the wall. I don't know about you, but the phrase hitting the wall does not conjure up exchanging pleasantries or sipping mint juleps in my mind (not that I've ever had a mint julep - come to think of it, I don't think I'd like mint juleps - I don't care for mint ).

Miles and miles

Miracle Mile in Daytime
(Wiki Commons)

There are all sorts of miles. Miracle Miles. Longest Miles. Green Miles. Miles to go before I sleep. And Magic Miles. Clearly, not all of them are 5,280 feet in length. Not all of them can be easily visited. Not all of them are our own cup of tea. Still, the mile continues to hold a special allure in literature, film, song and sport. Even in a world where eventually all of us are doomed to measure distance in kilometers. No matter how prevalent the metric system becomes, there will be those who will forever hold onto the nostalgia that is the mile. Indeed, they will bring it back from the dead, if needs be. The mile will forever continue to be magic. Take yesterday's, for example.

Signs of the times

One of three interesting signposts
on the LSU Lakes route

Sometimes we head out to run with our heads clear and our thoughts focused. Sometimes we're lucky to get out the door with most of our gear. Sometimes we run early in the morning to beat the heat, sometimes later to avoid the cold. Most of us plan our route before we take that first stride. Others of us just take off and go wherever our whims carry us. It's fun to run in a new and different location on occasions - that newness puts a freshness in our step and in our attitude. But it usually helps to know where you are at any point in time. Sometimes signposts help with that; and sometimes they don't.

Walk, Don't Run

Haven't seen one like this, have you?
(Courtesy Rakka @ Flickr)

So, when is a marathon run not a marathon run? I don't mean this as a trick question, though it might sound like one. For more folk than you'd think, taking walk breaks during a marathon run would disqualify that performance from counting as a "true, real" marathon run. Yes, some might answer the question "when is a marathon run not a marathon run" with "anytime you dont' run the whole distance." While this might sound a bit elitist or haughty, in the mind of the timelapserunner this is true, too. Yes, guilty as charged. I entertain this thought every few weeks as I continue to use the Galloway run/walk/run technique in weekly training and on weekend long runs. Why is this? Why do I think this way?

Don't be Running on Empty

Fill 'er up!
(Courtesy freefotouk @ Flickr)

If you want to keep your conveyance running, you simply have to keep it fueled. Fail to do that and she'll leave you sitting on the side of the road. True for cars. Also true for your body ... especially if you're involved in an endurance event like the marathon. The timelapserunner has been testing out a refueling plan on the last two long runs (i.e., the 13 and 15 milers) but has been looking from time to time for a more quantitative, even scientific approach to refueling during long training runs and on race day as well. He may have found such an approach.

Edge of Seventeen

A very special number
(Courtesy Leo Reynolds @ Flickr)

This is it. We're on the edge of seventeen ... miles, that it. This Saturday or Sunday, depending on the weather. If the long range forecast holds up, it'll be Sunday ... with starting temps in the 40s, rising to the 60s. As close as we've gotten to the kind of weather we're hoping for in January. But seventeen is an odd number, a prime number and - when it comes to running - a large number. We'll be Clif Bar loading before we leave, carrying water and gel packing at the 11, 14 and 17 mile marks. (Like we know what the heck we're doing!) Still, every new long run is a personal record. One more notch. Hopefully, the timelapserunner will be in the zone and "... with the words from a poet ... and the voice from a choir ... and a melody... nothing else (will have) mattered."

Raggedy Andy the Runner

Sometimes I feel like Raggedy Andy
(Courtesy goingslo @ Flickr)

I don't know. Sometimes I just feel a little discombobulated. Just one step behind. A little sluggish. Like taking a day off from work - but I know I can't. Sometimes this affects the workout schedule. Like on Monday this week. Supposed to walk three miles. Felt tired and stayed in bed. Skipped the walk. Then on Tuesday, the weather was to be nice and cool. This would mean that we'd be going about as fast as we're allowed to go: 9:02 per mile during the running part, with an overall pace of 10:11 per mile. But we got off to a raggedy start, so-to-speak.

Persevering Patience

More than just warmth?
(Courtesy oddnation.net)

The timelapserunner's sister ran across a neat insight recently and, as one of the handful of readers of this blog, passed it along. It seems that Timothy Gallagher in his work The Discernment of Spirits, speaks of persevering patience in the Ignatian sense: "a virtue of those undergoing trial, who do not flee it but carry the burden faithfully." Gallagher compares this to a marathon runner who "feels the fatigue of many miles already run but does not cease running until the race is fully complete." In my more reflective moments I fully appreciate that the persevering patience I exhibit while running long runs would probably fall short if taxed by the greater trials of life that I see so many others having to work through. Still, I will count it as practice not only for the upcoming race but for the rest of my life, hoping that I will remember the courage and peace afforded by this experience when called upon to exercise it amidst a more consequential trial. That said, yesterday I survived my first fifteen mile workout. Woot!

The Dichotomy Paradox and Marathon Training

The great philosopher Zeno
(Courtesy Stifts- och landsbiblioteket
i Skara's photostream @ Flickr)

There's something about the ancient Greeks - their culture, their language, and their brilliance - that I've always been enthralled with. Well, at least since those days when I took two years of classical Greek in high school. Remarkably, I still remember a few phrases in Greek from Homer's Odyssey, with all it's great imagery (e.g., ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς, which translates to rosy-fingered dawn). Still, my knowledge of Greek philosophy can be written in large print on the face of a small postage stamp. Many of us have heard the names but most of us - including me - haven't read their books. There are those we all know (e.g., Aristotle and Plato) and those we don't know much about. One of those lesser known philosophers was Zeno of Elea. Zeno was famous for his several paradoxes, one of which is known as the Dichotomy Paradox.

Does seven days make one weak?

Is this what I look like in that mode?
(Courtesy tamra hays @ Flickr)

As the timelapserunner looks ahead to next week, he can't help but focus on those activities that will most occupy his time (besides sleeping, that is). Those would be grading papers and working out. Perhaps he's looking through glass-half-empty spectacles, thinking only of what would appear to be drudgery to many. I suppose it's true that many a teacher has gazed upon a large stack of papers (on the desk or in the cloud) and dreaded getting started on the marking process. It's also true that most non-runners would look forward to a fifteen mile run like they would a visit to the dentist - a three plus hour visit to the dentist! Somehow, the timelapserunner will find enjoyment in both those activities this week. At least that's the plan.

Can you teach an old car new tricks?

I know. You must think that that fool timelapserunner is getting so confused he can't even get his cliches straight. You might be right, but the mixed metaphor in this post's title is deliberate not accidental. I mean to cover two slightly different but connected topics in this post: a) how is an aging runner like a old car, and b) can an aging runner learn to do new things or at least old things in a new way? Why so reflective, you ask? Well, as you start to age you begin thinking about your activities a bit more, either before or after you do them. Heck, sometimes just trying to remember why you're headed down the hall can invoke a great deal of cerebral activity.

Not just half a race ...

13.1 Bling
(Courtesy leduardo @ Flickr)

With dozens of posts here hailing the glory and significance of the marathon race distance over these past few months, the timelapserunner has never once waxed eloquent about that step-sister distance: the half-marathon. The Half, as I'll call it for this post's purposes, just hasn't had the glamour attached to it that other races have. It's not the mile, with all its nostalgic lore. It's not the 5K or the 10K which are both very popular road races and also distances which even track and field claims as part of its purview. And of course it's not the marathon, as race that people die for, or from - as the case may be. No, it's just some orphaned middling distance that the road racers sneer at and the marathoners make fun of. No longer, it would seem. The Half is getting respect.

The week that was ...

The days are filled with much to do lately, and the timelapserunner is not keeping up with obligations. This situation presents its own kind of stress, different from that presented by a hard workout, but still taxing. What to do in such situations? Well, it's certainly tempting to skip a day's workout, get some more sleep, and then think that the stress load has been reduced. The best advice, however, runs counter to that thought as exercise itself is a great stress reliever. If you're going to cut something out of a hectic schedule let it not be your daily workout.

Both the highs and lows are good ...

Mile 11
Courtesy No Antics @ Flickr

How long a run feels is pretty much a relative thing. Some days a simple 4-miler can feel like a never-ending slog session. Other days in mid-run you feel like you could run forever. Of course, that particular feeling is fleeting. Our bodies will eventually bring such flights of fantasy back down to earth soon enough. Still, there's an exhilaration that comes with experiencing each sensation, pleasant or not, both the endorphin-laden euphoria and the lactic-acid-induced suffering. Each stretch running effort brings with it new surprises, new experiences; some worth reliving, others we don't care to remember. So it is was yesterday's long run.

Coinkydinks

Coinkydink? I think not.
(Courtesy qthful @ Flickr)

Interesting is the notion of coincidences: those events that occur close to each other in time or space and somehow appear related, but are likely not related at all. We see them all the time in our lives, or at least we think we do. We'll look at some clock several times in a week and - coincidentally - it's always 10 minutes after 10. You suddenly think about calling your grandmother to say hello and the phone rings and it's grandmother on the other end. Some of these are simply the less likely co-occurrence of random events. Others, well, maybe or maybe not. Some are just amusing - as in the strip mall photo here. Others, provoke thought or reflection rather than laughter. A recent personal example is next.

Love those cool snaps ...

A cooler spell outside
(Courtesy exfordy @ Flickr)

Some say there are five seasons in Louisiana: spring, summer, fall, winter and hurricane season. Perhaps that's true. We've certainly had our share of hurricane seasons in the past seven years. Not that many storms, but enough direct hits to make southern Louisiana look like a worn out target at a firing range. There are some years when I'm rather convinced that we have only two seasons: the hot-and-humid season and the damp-and-dreary season. But then again, that's the glass-half-empty mentality kicking in. In any case, the transitions between those hot-and-humid and damp-and-dreary seasons can be quite nice. Like when a little cold front slides through and drops the temperatures down a bit. Like the one that rolled on in this past weekend.

"I could be coming down with something ..."

Covering the spread ...
(Courtesy clintjcl @ Flickr)

One of the hazards of the trade in the teaching business is coming down with something that the students traipsed in with, usually some rhino-virus or something similar. Actually, I'm immune to a zillion of those, having caught just about every cold possible when I was a kid. Unfortunately, there are probably TWO zillion such viruses running loose in the wild so there's still a good chance that I'll catch hold of one from time to time. I keep instant hand sanitizer with me at all times, but there's just too many exposure points to be using that every time you touch something that may have been touched recently by a sicky. My best defense has always been to stay as healthy as possible to keep my immune system resilient. Still, that don't always cut it. And getting sick in the middle of an important training program is a bummer. Well, too late. It's happened. I have a cold.

The one that got away ...

It was thisssss big!
(Courtesy Moggy443 @ Flickr)

I remember - at least I think so - catching my first fish. The place was "the country" - which was what we called any location in the vicinity of my grandmother's home in Raceland. I was standing on the bank of a little bayou of sorts and my hook managed to snag a garfish. Now this is not the kind of fish that most people eat but this adventure was not that kind of fishing trip. This was my first fishing experience and that garfish was huge, a mile long, I'm sure. I can't quite remember whether we took it home with us or released it back into the bayou. Doesn't matter. I can still see that big ole fish a-floppin' and a-splashin' near the bank as we pulled it in. One big catch for one little kid.

Long Train Runnin'

Got to get used to long (train) running
(Courtesy SP8254 - On a Break! @ Flickr)

Great tune by the Doobie Brothers. Played it numerous times during the timelapserunner's old band days. Never listened to the lyrics much. Heck, I don't know lyrics to any tune 'cept maybe the National Anthem. In those days, our harp man was playing guitar on that piece, so the timelapserunner played the signature solo on his keyboard. Not up to Tom Johnston specs, for sure; but still a lot of fun to play. But this weekend's long run made me remember that I "gotta keep on pushin'."