Week Ending 3/18

I haven't done a weekly wrap-up in a long, long time. Here goes nothing (keep in mind that this is ALL at 6,000+ feet and much of it between 6,200-6,400 feet):

Monday--easy
AM: 6 miles on the treadmill, averaging 8:00 pace. Legs a little tired from the previous weekend's running.

Tuesday--easy
AM: 9.45 miles in 1:13 on the Tomahawk loop. FYI, the Tomahawk loop is a moderately challenging dirt-road loop up in the Parker hills.

Wednesday--tempo run
AM: 10.35 miles in 1:13. This was a very solid tempo run. The goal was 6 miles at tempo pace. My splits were were: 1) 8:24 (warm-up), 2) 6:36, 3) 6:12, 4) 6:17, 5) 6:29, 6) 5:55, 7) 6:33, 8) 8:01 (begin cooldown), 9) 7:45, 10) 8:15, 10.35) 2:43.

Thursday--easy
AM: Had a 7:30 AM meeting so all I had time for was 4.3 miles and 35 minutes on the treadmill. Super easy pace. Woke up at 4:30 AM for this one.

Friday--easy
AM: Argh, once again another 7:30 AM meeting, leaving little time for more than a short run. Ran 5 miles in 36 minutes, running miles 2-4 at about 6:45 pace. Woke up yet again at 4:30 AM for this one.

Saturday--long
AM: 18 miles in in 2:17 the Parker hills, averaging 7:38/mile. 1150'. I ran mile 17 in 6:26. Unfortunately, none of Parker's trail loops are really connected so what I did was run the loops and then the roads in between, trying to stay on dirt the whole time. This was an excellent long run--I felt strong and steady the whole way.

PM: 3.3 miles easy. These may look like junk miles but they weren't. I focused on holding good form with tired legs.

Sunday--semi-long
AM: 11.8 miles in 1:32 in the Parker hills, once again running on the trails and dirt shoulders. Estimating 1000' of climbing (GPS battery was dead due to a PC glitch and I didn't have time to recharge it before my run). I was glad I got in this run in before the high winds came later in the morning. Despite the 21.25-mile effort the previous day, my legs were surprisingly functional and even responsive. I didn't push it and instead just held an even, steady pace. I would have liked to run a bit longer but we had church at 9:30 and so I had limited time to work with.

PM: 3.3 miles easy. Once again focused on holding good form.

Weekly totals:

• 71.4 miles run
• 9 hours, 10 minutes
• Averaged 7:43/mile
• Push-ups and core work

I love the way my core is developing now that I've incorporated a few new exercises.

Year to date mileage:

• 655.2 miles run
• 96 miles biked
• 2.6 miles walked

My cumulative running mileage is down a bit from previous years--a result of starting 2012 with a fairly significant leg injury. But my health is good right now and, despite VERY limited time on Thursday and Friday, this was a solid week, for March anyway. The reduced mileage on Thursday and Friday, though keeping me from an 80-mile week, seemed to translate into strong runs on both Saturday and Sunday. Also, I hate that I didn't get to the foothills/mountains over the weekend. I've been making it a point to get there at least once a week, but this weekend time just wouldn't allow it.

My goal for the coming week is to inch toward 11 hours of training, how ever that may come.

Monday: Cross-train (probably cycle)
Tuesday: Easy run
Wednesday: Tempo run
Thursday: Easy run
Friday: Two runs
Saturday: Long run, maybe on the Highlands Ranch network
Sunday: Longish run with some quality power-hiking in the mountains, preferably the Incline and Barr Trail

Once we get some light in the mornings, I'll be heading to the track for some 800s, 1200s, 1600s and, oh yes, 3200s. This is the first time in more than two years that I've felt motivated to get to the track. Here are a few of my favorite workouts from years past:

• 3x1600 at just slightly better than 5K pace (back East this was at about 5:30 pace). This is my mainstay.
• 2x3200, each at about 11:55. I haven't yet done this workout at elevation.
• 10x800 at about 2:45 pace, also know as Yasso 800s.
• And my favorite: 5x1600 at 5:55 pace. I love this workout but, again, I've never done it at elevation.

I always do 100-meter striders before my track workouts.

Unlike in previous years, I'm not killing myself to do mega mileage in March, with my goal race (Leadville 100) being five months away. Running 70 miles a week right now, with some good quality mixed in, I'm establishing a very strong base and protecting my good health in advance of a progressive ramp up in May, June and July.

Staying True to the Dream

Ever since I started my awesome new job, my life has gotten quite busy and even more exciting. We have a busy March at the Foundation, and then an even busier July. It's becoming clear to me that life is changing--mostly for the better, I might add. With this change I may have to be more creative in getting in my mileage and time on my feet as I train for the Leadville 100, while also incorporating recovery to help my aging body stay healthy.

That said, I like where my training is right now. I'm getting in about 70 miles and 10+ hours/week and have been seeing awesome results (anywhere from 5:55-6:20 pace) with my tempo runs. When we get more sunlight in the mornings, I'll be heading to the track for some fast stuff. By July, my training will involve weeks of 15-18 hours of running and power-hiking. With the benefit of having lived and trained at 6,200+ feet for a little over two years, I intend to show up at the Leadville 100 on August 18 in the best shape of my life--from head to toe. That's saying a lot--I was a beast in 2008 and 2009.

I have been mulling a major tweak to my 2012 schedule (technically 2013 schedule). I had originally planned to run in (and go for the win at) the Across the Years 24-Hour, which is in late December in Arizona. But I'm now leaning toward a PR effort at the Rock 'n Roll Phoenix Marathon on January 20. Technically that's 2013, but the training for it will all be in 2012. I have so much unfinished business with the marathon--mostly because I've underachieved at the 26.2-mile distance. My PR is 2:58 and I have two other sub-3's under my belt, but I think I'm fully capable of taking 5-10 minutes off my PR especially at a sea level race. Last April I was a victim of high winds and scorching heat at the Eisenhower Marathon, which deep-sixed a PR effort there (but, honestly, just coming off a serious injury at the time, I'm not sure I was in PR, much less sub-3, shape for Eisenhower). So, while I still have some relative youth to work with, I'm thinking a new PR at the Rock 'n Roll Marathon in January 2013 will be the big objective following the Leadville 100.

Other goals for the next 1-2 years:

• Break my 3:46 road 50K PR
• Do a 100K road race
• Break 1:20 in the half marathon
• Return to the Boston Marathon and break 3 hours there
• And of course break 20 hours at the Leadville 100!

More immediately, my goal is to get in awesome shape for Leadville!
 
***
 
When I train for 100s, it's not to finish, though that's always the over-arching goal. I train to achieve a dream--in the case of the Leadville 100, finishing in under 20 hours (which I used to always do in 100s back East but haven't been able to do at Leadville yet, mostly because Hope Pass kicks my ass every time). I sometimes visualize myself crossing the finish line in under 20 hours and telling my son to never, ever give up on his dreams, no matter how old he gets (visualization works). Dreams are about persistence and never giving up. To steal a quote from John F. Kennedy, I'll pay any price, bear any burden and meet any hardship when it comes to ultrarunning and achieving reams. I often recite those words when I'm out running in the cold and dark in the pre-dawn hours, when most folks are asleep or sipping on their coffee.

When you become an ultrarunner, you're taking on a lifestyle. Ultrarunning, unlike knitting or painting, isn't a hobby. It's not exercise, either. It's a way of life and, by that, I mean it's who you are. Ultrarunning, unlike recreational jogging, CrossFit, etc., permeates not only your life, but also the life of your family. I know few who are able to stick with this sport if they have an unsupportive spouse or apathetic family. I am fortunate to have a supportive wife. You have to be all in. Anything less and you're not going to make it. In today's world, where everyone wants to be comfortable and expects things to come easily, ultrarunning is quite rebellious.

I know some folks who've dipped their toes in the ultrarunning waters--maybe because they read an inspiring book--and didn't last long, because they weren't willing to make the sacrifices. And that's OK. People who stick with this sport do so because, well, running long distances defines who we are as individuals. It's hard to explain, but I believe I'm meant to run and that my running has a purpose I'm only now beginning to understand (to inspire people?). We're willing to make the sacrifices few others would make--going to bed early, getting up before dawn, running through rain, sleet and snow, enduring crushingly hard back to back runs, eating right, and gutting out the daily grind. We are runners who have a passion for traveling long distances on road, trail and, yes, track. We train hard because we love to race and we love the community of ultrarunning.

Now, let's go for a run!

Finishing Strong

My February totals:

• Running: 260.8 miles; 35 hours, 23 minutes; average pace: 8:09
• Cycling: 36.0 miles; 2 hours, 8 minutes
• Walking: A few miles….

FYI, in January I ran "only" 204 miles.
 
My commitment to cross-training is already beginning to wane. I cannot let that happen!
 
All in all, I’ve started 2012 much more conservatively than in previous years, in part because of my leg injury, which got me off to a slow start (the injury is, for the most part, behind me). In March, I’ll probably surpass 300 miles. Mileage is important to me, but I’m really trying to also focus on time on my feet. I think it’s easy for ultrarunners to obsess over mileage and forget just how important time on your feet is to preparing for a race.
 
For the past two years I’ve been quite aggressive (by my own standards) in ramping up my mileage in preparation for the racing season. Although I was relatively strong throughout the spring and summer of 2011, after the Leadville 100 in August I pretty much found myself out of gas and useless except for a few decent 5K races in the fall. Then right after Thanksgiving, when I began ramping up for a March marathon, my Achilles went south, leading to a nasty case of posterior tibial tendonitis. Essentially the same thing happened in 2010—only worse as I battled a nasty case of plantar fasciitis that sidelined me after Leadville for essentially five months.
 
I am determined to stay healthy all year! One of my goals for 2012, besides a sub-20-hour effort at the Leadville 100, is to go for a win in a 24-hour race late in the year—probably Across the Years in Arizona. I think I can win at the 24-hour level in 2012, provided I get through Leadville in one piece and avoid overuse injury. Easier said than done. Unlike in previous years, 2012 will include some bonafide recovery weeks that will hopefully prevent injury and keep me fresh.

In ultras, there are many ways to run a race. Some folks go out hard and try to hang on, sometimes flaming out well before the finish. Other runners go out conservatively, gain strength with every passing mile, and finish strong. There are merits to both approaches. For me, the best approach is to go out conservatively and try to finish strong. That approach will guide my 2012 training and racing strategy and hopefully keep me on track for success.

So in a nutshell, my goals for 2012 are to be at my strongest on August 18, when I toe the line at Leadville, heal in September, and then go for a 140+ mile 24-hour effort later in the year. 

***

The Manitou Incline is going to be a huge component of my Leadville 100 training. I’ve already done the Incline three times in the past month and plan to keep at it from now until Leadville. Honestly, I think I’m pretty good to go on all parts of the Leadville course except Hope Pass. I have crunched the numbers many times and the bottom line is that, to break 20 hours at Leadville, you need to complete the Hope Pass section, a 21-mile stretch with 12,000 feet of combined elevation change, in no more than 5.5 hours. At the 2011 race, the Hope Pass section took me a little more than 6 hours, with the inbound really taking a toll on me. Last year’s Leadville 100 showed me that I have to get stronger on big climbs. That’s where the Incline comes into play.

What I most like about the Incline is the fact that it doles out killer vertical (about 2,000 feet of gain in a little over a mile) and offers a number of fun options when you get to the top. You can take the Barr Trail back down for a “quick” loop; you can head up the Barr Trail for some more vertical (maybe even going for the Pikes Peak summit), or you can do multiple loops. This summer I want to work up to an Incline quad—that is, four Incline/Barr Trail loops, which would bring about 8,000 feet of climbing, 8,000 feet of descent, and 16 punishing miles. The only thing an Incline quad lacks is high elevation. The highest I’d get is about 8,500 feet—not bad, but not quite 12,000 feet, either. Another run I’d like to do is to take the Incline up to the Barr Trail, go on to the Pikes Peak summit, and then run back down.

 
My current PR on the Incline is 27:29, set last Sunday. My goal is to break 25 minutes this summer. How I do on Mosquito Pass at the Leadville Marathon on June 30 will be a good indicator of my fitness on climbs and whether or do not training on the Incline is paying off.

In Defense of Ultrarunning: When Our Sport is Attacked

Until I read Tim Tollefson’s recent blog post on flotrack.org, “CrossFit vs Ultrarunning. Which is more nauseating?,” I’d never encountered any published anti-ultrarunning epistles. But, alas, I do feel obligated to respond to Tollefson’s unfair and unprovoked attack on my beloved sport and especially his comparison of ultrarunners to CrossFitters, both of whom he calls “annoying” and “self-righteous.”  He also tacitly attacks organized religion and politics (as well as Fox News in his follow-up post--more on that below), just for good measure.
 
First off, let’s get this little fact out there: Tollefson is an elite road runner, but not in the Ryan Hall class. I respect his talent and I’m sure he works his tail off. Not that he cares what I think—especially since I’m a lowly ultrarunner, right? Secondly, I don’t know much at all about CrossFit, except for what I’ve seen on TV. Not long ago I watched about 30 seconds of the CrossFit Games—I think it was on ESPN. Look, CrossFit isn’t my thing. I think it’s more exercise than sport, but I’m not going to attack it, because I admire the dedication of its participants. So my concern in this post isn’t with defending CrossFit; it’s with defending ultrarunning against an incredibly unfair attack, which flotrack.org has published for the world to see. And it's because Tollefson's attack is on flotrack.org that a response is needed.
 
Tollefson, who has since published an equally obnoxious, arrogant follow-up mea culpa (“Round 2: Ultrarunning vs Fox News"), attacks ultrarunners as gloryhounds who go around bragging and wearing clothing that says dorky things like, “Marathons are my warm-up,” “Black toenails are my friend,” etc. Ultrarunners as braggers? Nothing could be further from the truth. Ultrarunners are among the most humble group of folks I know. How else to explain the fact that most of our races are unknown to the masses and all we get for finishing a 100-miler is a damned belt buckle? Most ultrarunners I know (me included) would actually prefer that our sport operate in the darkness rather than be in the limelight thanks to the overdramatized, yet highly entertaining, best-selling books by Christopher McDougall and Dean Karnazes.
 
Tollefson then goes on to say ultrarunners “failed at” their sport and turned to super-long distances to mask their average abilities. Um, to this accusation, I ask Tollefson: Have you ever seen Nick Clark descend a mountain trail? Have you ever seen Matt Carpenter (who may or may not identify himself as an ultrarunner but has nonetheless excelled in the sport) attack 14,115-foot Pikes Peak? Have you ever seen Mike Morton run for 24 hours? Have you ever seen Kilian Jornet, Geoff Roes, Dave Mackey and Anton Krupicka in action at an ultra? What about Max King, who ran in the Olympic Trials Marathon, and Michael Wardian, who is a sub-2:20 guy like Tollefson and eats marathons, 50Ks and 100Ks for breakfast?
 
Those guys are not only great ultrarunners, but also supremely gifted athletes.  Carpenter and Jornet’s VO2 maxes are as high, if not higher, than Lance Armstrong’s—and probably higher than many elite marathoners. And yet they are as humble as the back of the packers who run the same trails that they run in a race. It’s the crushingly difficult process of training for and completing an ultramarathon that makes our sport’s participants a humble lot. Sure, a few of us might get cowboyish at times (I’m guilty of it, but it’s all fun and games), but never will you see us exerting some kind of false superiority in public. That’s not who we are, OK?
 
Make no mistake about it; ultrarunning is a sport. Runners line up at a starting line and then race a given distance—50 kilometers, 50 miles, 100 kilometers or 100 or more miles. There are winners in ultrarunning, just as there are winners in more “traditional” track and field events.
 
(That said, racing a marathon is still one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It’s insanely difficult from a pacing standpoint and in the final 10K, and so my hat goes off to Tollefson and others who do it so well. By the same token, his hat should go off to ultrarunners, especially our sport’s elite.)
 
Finally, Tollefson’s attack is severely undermined by the fact that he bases it almost entirely on McDougall’s book, which he says is littered with inaccuracies, half-truths and exaggerations. I won’t dispute that McDougall stretched things a little here and there, but it’s preposterous to use that admittedly over-the-top book as the basis for attacking the sport of ultrarunning (hence his follow-up mea culpa). Has Tollefson ever raced an ultra? Has he ever volunteered at a 100-miler? Has he ever been at the Placer High School track during the finish of the Western States 100? What Tollefson has done is pick apart a few unfortunate sections of the McDougall book and then draw a series of absurd conclusions. It’s that kind of flawed, unfair and narrow thinking that leads to hateful things.
 
In closing, I’d like to offer my services as a writer and ultrarunner to flotrack.org since it clearly needs a more fair and balanced approach :-). And I also hope Josh Cox, Michael Wardian and/or Max King will take Tollefson on in a 50K or 100K, especially since those guys--you know, dudes you turned to ultrarunning since they "failed" at their sport, according to Tollefson's thinking--already beat him in the 2012 Olympic Marathon Trials.

Are You Badass Enough?

Due to a minor mail snafu, it took a while for me to get my Leadville Trail 100-Mile Run finisher's jacket. After much anticipation, it finally arrived today. You gotta be a badass to earn this badass jacket! Are you badass enough?

FYI, this jacket is a huge improvement over the old finishers' pullover sweatshirts, though I'm sure the vets and old timers would disagree. The pullovers had charm, but they weren't badass like the jacket.

Youth is Over-Rated!

Note to Reader: This is the second article in a series that challenges various assumptions in ultrarunning. In some cases, we may find that certain assumptions are correct; while in others we may find a new and better viewpoint. Please contribute your insights in the comments section. Enjoy!

Youth is over-rated!

Species go extinct when they are unable to adapt to new conditions (think dinosaurs). We humans are for the most part very adaptive, though certainly not immune from extinction. Short of the sun burning out, a great flood, a meteor hitting the Earth and other catastrophes, we posses a unique ability to evolve to conditions and find a way toward survival.
 
In the world of running, the ability to adapt is critical to longevity. Especially when you enter your late thirties, the body starts to age and the benefits of youth become fewer, requiring some adaptation. And yet many choose not to adapt. How many of us know a runner who won't change his or her practices despite what the aging process is doing to their body? "I don't care if I'm 40 and my body feels like I got run over by a Mack truck. I'm running 110 miles this week come hell or high water!" It's usually these types of runners who eventually find themselves constantly injured, unable to run and and relegated to cycling for the rest of their lives (nothing against cycling, but it's not nearly as fun as running). Or, worse yet, they have to do CrossFit :-)

I think I began to feel the years when I turned 37. One day--I don't remember when exactly--it hit me that I wasn't recovering the way I used to and injuries seemed to happen more frequently and last longer. Back in my younger days, if I had a muscle pull or tendon issue, I could slap some ice on the effected area and be good to go in almost no time. No more. (Fortunately, age hasn't yet robbed me of speed; I'm pretty sure I haven't lost a step...yet). Then it hit me that, at my age, pro athletes are considered way over the hill and many are forced into retirement. At 38 years of age, I'd be a geezer if I were a pro athlete. They might call me gramps.

Every year, people spend billions trying to fight the aging process, mostly because they refuse to adapt to what's happening and see aging as a new stage of life with many unique opportunities. Fighting the years is a waste of time and money. Aging is natural and inevitable; better to embrace and adjust to it than fight what cannot be stopped. For me, changing some of my practices as a runner, recognizing that a little pain here or there might be a call for rest, focusing more on recovery, incorporating cross-training, seeing the benefits of strength-training and investing in things like Hokas have been ways to adjust to the aging process and keep doing what I love. But I'm still figuring this aging thing out. The good news is that I'm not stupid enough to actually think I can outrun Father Time. (Click here for a fantastic book by Ironman legend Chris McCormack, who writes at length about how he adapted to Father Time and enjoyed even more success in his demanding sport.)

What if I said Father Time can be our friend? More on that below (or read Macca's book linked above for a more information).

Don't get me wrong; youth is wonderful. It is indeed true that "youth is wasted on the young." One of my great regrets is not taking full advantage of my youth when I had it. I didn't start running seriously until I was 31 (though I started running cross-country at age 12). I had a a few good years in 2008 and 2009 and they were, indeed, fun. But at the time it never hit me that this wouldn't last. I wish I'd taken advantage of my youth when I had it--ah, the 20s--and really gone for it in this sport. I often look at the young pups all around me at races and I wonder if they really know what they have and what they can do.

But youth is over-rated! Did I just that? Yes! Why? Because, at least in the sport of ultrarunning, experience usually is an advantage (and maybe in running in general--back in September I out-kicked a 16-year-old track star at a local 5K, beating him by a half-second). Racing 100 milers is almost all about experience. The young pup explodes out of the gate and runs recklessly, finding around mile 60 that things have turned bad. But he lacks the experience to battle through the bad patch. Meanwhile, the older, more mature runner, running a patient race from step one, is just starting to get into a groove at mile 60 as he/she passes the exhausted, discouraged young runner. Of course, it doesn't always happen that way; sometimes the young pup possesses that special combination of youth and patience. But it seems to me that ultrarunning is a sport that rewards those with discipline and experience.

So, at least in the sport of ultrarunning, maybe aging isn't all that bad!?!?!?!

Do you consider yourself an aging athlete? If so, have you taken any steps to adjust your approach to the sport?

Are You Wearing Too Much Damned Gear?

Note to Reader: I'm starting a short series of articles that seeks to challenge certain assumptions in ultrarunning. In some cases, we may find that certain assumptions are correct; while in others we may find a new and better viewpoint. This is the first article in the series. Enjoy!

Running has gotten too damned complicated.

Nine years ago I ran in cotton--from head to toe--and in shoes I bought from Famous Footwear.

Today, I have all the latest stuff. In the morning, after I put on my compression shorts, tights, socks, base layer, mid layer, vest, mittens and skull cap (my winter apparel, all of which is super-expensive), I attach my blinking red light and head lamp (so I can see and be seen in the pre-dawn hours), iPhone and iPod. Oh, and then I strap on my RoadID and Garmin GPS watch, along with my Timex Ironman so I know what time it is. Damn, I haven't put on my shoes yet. What should I wear today...this pair of Hokas, that pair of Hokas, or maybe my Kayanos or DS Trainers? Hmmmm. And where are my orthotics? While we're at it, my calves are a little sore today--maybe I should also wear my calf sleeves.

In the time I spend screwing around with my gadgets, I could have run an extra mile that might just pay off at the Leadville 100 in August. If that's a mile a day I'm missing because I'm screwing around with my gadgets, we're talking about 7 additional miles a week. Some weeks that could be the difference between 90 and 100 miles.

Yeah, running has gotten way too damned complicated (and expensive). I've gone soft and gotten too reliant on crap that has nothing to do with why I run: the pure love of it.

Memo to self: I don't need all this crap. Yeah, I need to stay warm, and I do like my GPS, but is all this other extra stuff really necessary? No. It's a distraction.

I think I enjoyed running the most back in the day when I didn't wear a GPS or iPod, and a cell phone was so small I barely knew it was there.

Whether we want to admit it or not, most of us play right into the hands of advertisers and marketers. We get a RoadID because we're scared of getting hit by a car and being found by someone who doesn't know who we are. This is fear-based marketing at its best (or worst?). Then you have the iPod. We're told iPods help pass the time and get us focused. But have you ever listened to nature in all her beauty (her beauty sometimes being silence)? Isn't that the best music of all? Don't get me wrong; I LOVE my iPod. But do I need Eminem on every single run?

Now let's get dawn to the GPS watch, shall we? I know I'm on hallowed ground here. Many of us like to know how far we went, what our pace was, how much vertical we did, etc. But is that info really important? Granted, knowing how long you ran is pretty important, but why do we need to know exact pace, mileage and climb? We're not professionals, and so we shouldn't get caught in the trap of taking what we love to do in our free time so seriously when there's not a paycheck involved.

Last time I checked, I judge a great run not necessarily by the numbers on my watch, but by how I felt. There's such a thing as an awesome 6:00 mile and a crappy 6:00 mile, a strong 1,500-foot climb and a feel-like-death 1,500-foot climb. A GPS watch can't distinguish between the two, though maybe a heart rate monitor can. While we're on the subject of heart rate monitors, that's one gadget I've never gotten into. I don't see the point. I guess my heart's not in it.

Geez, how did the greats back in the day ever do it? All they had were a pair of shoes and cotton clothing and a stop watch! I'm surprised they could even walk, let alone set records. Imagine what Billy Mills or Roger Bannister could have done if they only had a Garmin on their wrists! Calf sleeves might have made them faster, too.

One of the most popular, followed ultrarunners in the world today is a guy who frequently runs shirtless, without socks and in super minimal shoes--and who sometimes lives for days in his truck up in the mountains living on little more than Nutella, gels and creek water. People follow what he's doing like he's some kind of a prophet. And yet, while we admire how he lives and runs (I admit I greatly admire him), we're strapping on gear out the wazoo that costs us money (that we could be saving or even donating to a worthy cause, such as the local track or cross country team) and has nothing to do with our passion for running. Maybe I'm missing something, but there seems to be a disconnect.

I don't want to keep ranting . What I do want to do is lay down the gauntlet. Next week I'm going to leave my iPhone at home. My iPod also will stay home. I'll keep wearing my RoadID and lights for my own safety since I do have a family to think about when I'm out there in the dark. I think I might also refrain from wearing my GPS on a few runs and instead just wear my good old fashioned Timex Ironman and estimate my mileage like I used to do back in the day.

While we're at it, do I really need to enter all my damned runs into a freaking website when my paper-based logs (which I've been keeping for several years) will suffice just fine?

Maybe simplifying will help me get in some extra mileage and time on my feet and remove some distractions that only take me away from the spiritual, meditative aspects of running--aspects that make me a better endurance athlete and person.

Are you willing to give anything up, even temporarily? If so, what?