Monday, January 26, 2015

From the archives - Episode I: 12 years a goal

I wouldn't call myself a hoarder, but I do tend to hang on to things for a while. This occasionally results in great joy when I come across a nugget of the past that had completely vanished from my memory. When this happens, it also reaffirms my faulty rationale for saving the stuff in the first place. "That was fun," I'll say. "Now I'm going to save every note I take for the next year so I can have fun again some day." One recent example: I came across a 'To-Do' list from the summer before I started high school. The list went as follows:

  1. Rotate wheels on roller blades
  2. Fantasy football draft list
  3. Legos (set up fort)
  4. Take a look at Wild Card race
  5. Make changes to Hardball (a video game, in case you were wondering)
  6. Organize mini football helmets
Those were pretty exciting times. This past week, I went through all of my old running papers in an effort to trim out the excess and create a binder of training plans and articles. While doing this, I found a piece of paper on which I'd scribbled responses to my college coach's questionnaire on our goals for that season and beyond. I want to share those here for a couple of reasons: (1) It's amusing to look at my 22-year-old self from my 34-year-old perspective, and (2) some of these are still relevant today.

To set the stage, this was January of my senior year of college (2003), and the indoor track season was in its early days. I'd just come off a cross country season in which I'd hurt my knee in a fall during the first race of the year and spent the next three months cross-training in an effort to get back for the post-season races. I'd managed to squeeze into the NCAA XC meet but was still injured starting the indoor season and quite uncertain about how my college track career would end. With that in mind, here's what I wrote:
Running Goals
Season:  
       (1) To run in a race by the end of the year
       (2) If able to run, then score points at the New England meet 
Year: By spring, run an 800-meter PR
Life: Continue to run in order to stay in shape and be competitive until I am an old man
How I am working toward these goals: Trying to overcome injury through PT and cross training; staying focused and motivated
What I can do better: If I didn't care about the other parts of my life, I would totally devote myself to running
What about past training has helped: I'm not sure. Has anything helped me, or has it just caused me to become injured?
What new training have you added: Plyometrics and box jumps; more speed for mid-distance training
Why I run: Because I enjoy feeling good about my fitness level, and I would die without the competition 
I am happy to report to the 22-year-old me that I am still trying to be competitive and still feel like I would die without the competition. (I also ended up having the best running season of my life, clearly because of these provocative goals.) It was actually eye-opening to realize that I had the same competitive fire then that I have now. I hadn't really remembered feeling so intensely motivated by competition. And I continue to wish that I could "totally devote myself to running," but that darn pesky life always gets in the way.

Thanks for joining me for this trip down memory lane. I will periodically post some more of these types of updates that are of no general interest. But what's the point of a blog if not to self-indulge?

Thursday, January 22, 2015

2014 Year in Review

This post is as far behind as my mileage is for the year, and the two are not totally unrelated. But this is a topic for the 2015 year in review; let's instead focus on the year of honor: 2014.

2014 was a good year. I thought it could go from good to great if I went out with a bang. My idea was to run each of the last eight days of the year. To most of you, running eight straight days is something you do every eight days or so, but I hadn't done it since 2002. So how did it go? Not well. I was struck by a cold on Day 2, but I soldiered on. By Day 4, I felt awful, but it couldn't get much worse, could it? Day 5 was a 12-mile trail run, and I spent the rest of the day curled up under blankets on my son's beanbag chair. I called it at five days -- the longest running streak I've had in 11 years, but still a failure. I didn't run on any of the remaining days of the year, as the cold became bronchitis, and that is how I ended 2014 and started 2015. (In fact, the bronchitis lingered and turned into some kind of tertiary infection last week. 2015 is off to a terrible start, but let's get back to last year...)

While I wasn't injury-free in 2014 (two ankle sprains and a knee injury), it was my highest mileage year since 2002. That says as much about the ordeals of the interceding years as it does about the consistency of training this year. There are two reasons for this year's relatively high mileage. (Please note that I said, "relatively." I am well aware that my mileage is pathetic and pales in comparison to the mileage of many of this blog's seven or eight readers.) One is that I minimized time off to recover from the injuries. Having previously had identical ankle sprains and knee injuries to the ones I had this year, I knew what worked before and what didn't. In the past, I'd probably been too conservative in returning from those injuries. This year, I went to the other extreme. I took off just 3 weeks for the ankle sprain instead of 3 months, and 2 weeks for the knee injury instead of 8 months. So, while my knee and ankle still hurt, I am running (and hoping this isn't a short-term win at the expense of my long-term health).

Annual mileage since 1998. 2013 and '14 mileage taken from Strava; all other years from running logs.
Now, let's talk goals. I was feeling pretty positive about the year until I looked back at the goals I'd set out to accomplish. Here's what failure looks like:

Goal #1: Stay injury-free: FAIL
As mentioned, I suffered two bad ankle sprains and a recurrence of an old knee injury. These were all preventable. My ankle brace is 100% effective; I just need to wear it consistently. The knee injury was a direct result of racing 7 times in 7 weeks and going on a long run well beyond my capabilities. I need to be smarter this year.

Goal #2: Sub-2:00 800: PASS
I just got under 2:00 (1:59.90) at the USATF Masters Championship in March. 

Goal #3: Sub-4:30 mile: FAIL
I was training for the mile when the first ankle sprain occurred, and I ended up never running one in 2014.

Goal #4: Sub-16 5K: FAIL
I matched my best 5K time from 2013 (16:21) but never got any closer to breaking 16.

Goal #5: 10K PR: FAIL
I never ran a 10K in 2014.

Goal #6: Sub-47 Li'l Rhody; FAIL
47:01 - So close but still a failure. 

Goal #7: Get in triathlon shape: FAIL
I probably got into decent duathlon shape, but I didn't swim a single time all year and have no intention to do so in 2015.

Goal #8: Get strong: FAIL
I got stronger, but not strong, during the first quarter of the year. I was routinely lifting weights and dragging rocks around the yard, but that all stopped with the ankle sprain, and I never picked it back up.

So, what do I want to fail to accomplish in 2015? Here's the list, with some repeats and some newcomers:
  1. Break 4:30 for the mile
  2. Break 16:21 for the 5K, with a stretch goal of breaking 16
  3. Sub-47 at Li'l Rhody
  4. Sub-21:30 for 4 miles
  5. Win 4th Season trail series
  6. Run more miles than in 2014
  7. Complete a century ride with the gang
  8. Run at least one race in the Gunks (my hometown mountains)
  9. Do 20 consecutive pull ups (this is motivation to get my upper body into shape)
Despite all of the goal misses, I had a great time training in 2014. Some highlights include:
  • Rekindling my relationship with the track. I didn't enjoy every moment of every track workout, but it was exhilarating to sprint around the oval again.
  • Running in far off places -- Hawaii, California (wine country, San Francisco, and LA), and Florida
  • Exploring new territory close to home -- Hillsdale, DuVal/Browning side trails and connectors, School Landwoods, Carolina, spots along the drive from RI to Boston
  • So many great group runs and rides. I got dragged along for the second longest run and second longest ride of my life. The fact that they were on consecutive days probably wasn't too intelligent, but it was still a memorable experience. I continue to be grateful for the company and camaraderie of the WTAC.
  • Killing deer flies. They're the worst.
  • Running faster for all repeat races (see table)
Race
    2013    
    2014     
% improvement
4 on the Fourth
23:13
21:53
5.7%
Run 4 Kerri
21:56
21:40
1.2%
Bridge 2 Bridge
28:40
27:59
2.4%
 Li'l Rhody Runaround 
47:54
47:01
1.8%

Finally, some other stats:
  • Highest mileage week = 38 miles (12/22 - 12/28)
  • Lowest mileage week = 0 miles (3 times - 5/12, 5/19, 9/1)
  • Most hours run/bike in week = 7:50 (8/11 - 8/17)
  • Longest run = 17 miles (8/16)
  • Longest ride = 50 miles (8/17)
  • Number of races = 18 (1st place -5 times, 2nd place - 5 times, 3rd place - 3 times)
On to 2015!

Monday, January 12, 2015

Resolution Beach 5K

Going into this race, I'd run 13 miles total over the previous 10 days. It wasn't a confidence-inspiring training block, but I chose to look at this much the way Seth had before the OMF race -- it was just a really good taper. No point in dwelling on the negatives; my well-rested legs and gunk-filled lungs would be tackling the race without reservation.

I hadn't previously run this race, so I relied on last year's blog posts and a few conversations with teammates to prepare. Quite fortuitously, I bumped into race director Mike Galoob at the grocery store the night before, and he was just back from a visit to the course, so he was able to give me some fresh insight into the conditions. The course would likely be fast, he said, as the sand was hard packed thanks to the recent cold snap. There was some ice on the trails but nothing serious. This was good news; I hadn't been looking forward to slogging through deep sand or puddles.

Arriving at the race, temperatures were still quite cold (14F when I left my house). I surveyed the beach from the registration area, hoping to see someone who knew the course and could point out the tricky spots (not that I would ever take a wrong turn in a race). Just then, I bumped into Jonny and begged my way in to his warm-up. He and Muddy guided me through the trail section, which was snowy and icy in spots but otherwise in good shape. There was an especially rough section through the ruins that I'd have to be careful on during the race. (For a great picture of this section, plus other shots of the course, see Seth's blog,)

On the line, I set up on the ocean side with the intent to hug the shoreline on the way out to the cone. My race plan was to hang behind the leaders as long as I could and use a kick (if I had one) in the last 800 to try to break away. I couldn't risk going out as aggressively as last race with my recent lung troubles, so I hoped to keep my breathing under control this time. I was feeling good about this plan until Jonny alerted me to the fact that RI speedster Eric Lonergan would be in the race. I'd raced him twice (rather, we were in the same race twice) and lost big both times. He's at another level on the roads, but I held out some hope that the beach and trails would be an equalizer. This was probably wishful thinking, and I prepared myself to race for second.
Examining the sand before the race. (Photo by Jana Walker.)
A great shot of the field after the start by Jana. I'm the one loping along on the far right.
Steve Brightman took the race out pretty hard, and I ran in his wind shadow on the way out to the cone, wishing he had broader shoulders. I knew Bob Jackman was right with us, and he made an incredible turn around the cone to pull even with Brightman. After 3/4 of a mile or so, Lonergan had gone to the front, while Brightman dropped back. I hung behind Bob and Lonergan through the mile (5:13) and then started losing some ground as we ran up through the deeper sand into the sand trail section.
Most of the field approaches the cone, while the top 4 have made the turn,
none more perfectly than Jackman. (Photo by Jana Walker.)
Running behind these guys, it struck me what a contrast in styles they represented. Jackman is all power, with big, strong strides and the body to match. Lonergan is a model of efficiency, his small frame floating over the ground effortlessly. As we spilled out onto the road, I snapped out of my body-type analysis and worked to pull back within reach. Lonergan nearly took a wrong turn where the course veers off the road and back onto the trail, while Jackman took advantage and moved into the lead. The two of them continued to battle up front while I hung on for dear life. My legs felt like they were attached to cinder blocks, and I started to wonder how much longer I could be part of the battle.

The course peaks just before the two mile mark, and the ensuing downhill could not have come at a better time. The two-mile split was 5:42, and the three of us cruised down the trail as an ensemble. I thought to myself how much fun it was to be part of a three-way contest like this, with both individual and possibly team titles on the line. The team aspect of the race was actually pretty motivating and got me through a few sections where I might otherwise have let up a bit.

At some point in this area, I pulled ahead of Bob, and when we hit the steep downhill with its poor footing, I surged ahead of Lonergan. A jolt of adrenaline followed that gave my legs some of their life back. I pushed the pace into the old ruins. Lonergan, who had been a gentleman all race long, pointing out slippery spots as we approached, urged me to be careful here. I was, and we emerged unscathed, down the rocks and hurdling the stream back onto the beach.

Picking our spots through the broken ice in the ruins. (Photo by Scott Mason.)

Popping out the other side. And did I mention I lost my left arm during the race? (Photo by Scott Mason.)
Once we reached the beach, Eric pulled ahead. I didn't think I had the steam to run next to him the whole way back, so I fell in behind him and did my best to match him stride for stride. It was frustrating to hear the smack smack smacking of my feet on the sand while his made nary a peep. Still, I hung in there behind him and might have even pulled aside him at one point with about 200 meters to go. I could make out the figures of the Galoob family motioning for us to run up the beach to the finish line near the pavilion. Isn't there an imaginary finish line extending all the way to the ocean? We went into an all-out sprint in the final 50 meters. I tried to summon that mid-distance speed that has been sleeping somewhere inside my legs for the past 10 months, but it either wasn't awake yet, or Lonergan had more of it. He cruised through the line a few feet ahead, 16:52 to 16:53. The third mile was 5:18, and the final 0.1 was at 4:31 pace. We were about a minute under the course record, though conditions were much more favorable this year than in the past.
Clomping away, hanging on for dear life. (Photo by Jana Walker.)
Bob finished third, followed by Brightman and Muddy. Uh oh, this was going to be a close team race between WTAC, TNT, and Rhode Runner, who benefited from Lonergan's attendance. I saw Jonny finish after Principe, but I swore there was another Rhode Runner guy in there as well. Jeff, Seth, and Matthew -- bloody knee and all -- weren't far behind. Did we have enough guys to displace the third scorers for TNT and RR? It turned out that we didn't. Rhode Runner nipped us by a few points. A couple of places here or there, and we would have pulled it out. I'm actually glad we lost, though. Losing is a great motivator, and I hope the victory also convinces RR to bring their team back again for the next few races. It would be great to have these types of team battles throughout the rest of the series.

Thanks, as always, to the Galoobs for putting on another stellar race and braving the cold for hours on end.