A Whole New World

The more I think about this move to Denver the more I realize what a major change it's going to bring. To everything. Mostly good change. At this point finding a (good) job is my major concern. But that won't be a concern of this blog. Running will remain the focus.



My running is going to change in the most fundamental ways possible when we move to Denver. We'll be living at an elevation of about 6,000 feet, which is enough to feel in the lungs. Eventually we may wind up in a neighborhood as high up as 7,000+ feet, which is definitely enough to feel. To the west--an easy drive away--will be mountains as high up as 14,000 feet. This is the ultimate running country.

Fast running like I do here in Cleveland with mile repeats and long tempo runs will become shorter but still intense efforts. Whereas I've always believed deeply in the hard mile repeat, I may need to adopt a new ritual of 800-1200-meter repeats. Long tempo runs may have to become fartlek workouts.

And then there are the mountains...to see, explore and summit.

I have decent speed and can burn pretty well, but ultimately I'm a hill runner. The Mohican Trail 100 is a hill race--23,000 feet of up and down hills that beat the tar out of you. Just because I won the 2009 Mohican 100 doesn't means I can do it on the mountains. Hills aren't mountains.

In many respects I'll have to learn to run all over again as I become a mountain runner. It's hard to say what that will be like for me. It's going to take several months for me to acclimate to the elevation. At first I'll run some peaks south of 10,000 feet and try to get used to my surroundings, the big climbs and the thin air. I'll take on more and more with time, especially if in fact I do the Leadville Trail 100-Mile this August. Leadville will be a major challenge. It's run at elevations of 9,000-12,000 feet. And then there's the big, bad Hardrock Hundred down in Colorado's San Juan Mountains. No 100 is more difficult than the Hardrock.

Two things that are on my radar this summer:

1) Doing either the out or the back on the Leadville 100 course. This will require some transportation aid from my wife, Anne, and plenty of logistical planning. I know Anton Krupicka does this run quite a bit. I can't wait to do it myself.

2) Summiting Pike's Peak. I plan to join the Incline Club for some runs. As I understand it, they run in the Pike's Peak area. I cannot wait to stand atop the great peak. But getting to the top--I think it's at about 13,000 feet and climbs 7,000 feet over 13 miles--will require much of me. I'll need to acclimate for a while before taking on Pike's.

I'm not sure what living at elevation is going to do to me as a runner. Are my days of sub-3-hour marathons done since I won't be able to run fast for long periods of time? Or maybe the thin air will actually make me even faster if I run a sea-level race? I know Matt Carpenter, the great mountain runner who lives in Manitou Springs, has a marathon PR of 2:19, but he's a freak of nature whose genetics simply don't apply. I have no shot at such a time, but maybe once I acclimate my goal of a sub-2:50 will become a reality.

The key, I think, to this move is remaining patient in my running. The altitude is going to be an adjustment. I wasn't able to sleep well during our visit to Denver a month ago (a common altitude issue) and I definitely felt the thin air in my lungs during a few runs. I'm going to have to remain patient and know that acclimating will take time. Eventually my red blood cell count will increase and my body will adjust.

Until then, I'll just have plenty of fun seeing, exploring and experiencing a whole new world.

Moving Out West

I have news to share. I guess the title of this post is a dead give-away. After five years of living in Chagrin Falls, Ohio, my family and I are moving to Denver, Colorado to pursue new career opportunities. We'll be in Denver this spring. It's hard to believe we're heading West.

This move has been coming for well over a year, but our final decision was made only a few weeks ago. My wife, Anne, a (brilliant, talented, dedicated and I don't mind saying beautiful) board-certified veterinary internist, has found a wonderful opportunity at a growing private practice in Parker, which is just south of Denver. Anne, who went all the way in her specialty training (4 years of internship and residency training PLUS an additional year as a clinical instructor at Purdue University BEYOND the standard 4 years of veterinary school) will enjoy a supportive, family-friendlier environment and a growing clientele, making this a great move for all of us. I am looking for a full-time position in development (aka fundraising) and will certainly miss working at University Hospitals, my employer for the past three years.

Words cannot describe how much we will miss life in Chagrin Falls and Cleveland. This is where our son, Noah, was born and took his first steps. We both have very dear friends here.

Contrary to conventional wisdom (which is often wrong, by the way), Cleveland is a wonderful place to live. It's an even better place to run. As I've written many times before, we have beautiful parks, hundreds of miles of trails of all varieties, a supportive and vibrant running community, premier races like the Burning River 100-Mile Endurance Run, and excellent running clubs like the Southeast Running Club. The winters are tough here, but you're rewarded with gorgeous springs, summers and falls.

There is so much I'll miss. I'll miss Chagrin Falls, which is a one-of-a-kind town you won't find anywhere else. It's what towns across America try to copy and fail miserably in doing so--because you can't copy charm, authenticity, friendliness, character and soul. You can't copy the Popcorn Shop, Chagrin Hardware, Yours Truly, the peaceful country roads, the village falls, the Sunday afternoon cone-lickers, the Main Street hill, the Halloween pumpkin role, the gorgeous old homes, etc. This is a special place that we'll miss dearly.

And I'll miss my job. I am so fortunate to work at University Hospitals. UH has been incredibly supportive of me as an employee, family guy and runner. One of my closest friends is also my boss. That says it all about my feelings for UH.

I'll miss the Southeast Running Club and the greater Northern Ohio running community. When I joined SERC in the spring of 2005, I was still relatively new to long-distance running and ultrarunning was just something I'd heard of until I started talking with guys like Steve Godale. Ultras are now my passion. Five years later, I've achieved many goals, such as breaking 3 hours in the marathon, completing my first ultra, finishing a 100-miler, ultimately winning a 100-miler, and more recently completing a 24-hour race where I raised money for Rainbow Babies & Children's Hospital. I didn't achieve these goals on my own. I have many in the club to thank for their support and inspiration.

I will miss the Mohican Trail 100-Mile community. If you've been a part of Mohican as a runner, volunteer or crew member, you know what I mean. Winning Mohican in 2009 was one of life's greatest moments. I am saddened that I will not be back in 2010 (more on that below).

With this move to Denver, basically of my 2010 racing plans are changing. I will not be running in the Boston Marathon as it will conflict with our move. I will not be returning to the Mohican 100 to defend. I will most certainly not be competing in the Buckeye Trail 50K and likely not in the Burning River 100. My top objectives are pulling off this cross-country move and finding a good job. Through it all, I'm going to try to stay in shape with a potential goal of the Leadville 100 in August. It might be that 2010 will be a year off for me, but maybe not. I'm not getting any younger and I'm on the backside of my athletic prime. Right now I can run a lot of miles and ask a lot of my body. One day that won't be the case. So a year off is kind of a tough pill for me to swallow. We'll see what's next.

Denver is a wonderful place to live, work and run. We returned from a visit a few weeks ago and loved what we saw, especially the Rockies. We're looking at many areas to live, including Castle Rock which is pretty close to Colorado Springs and offers magnificent views of Pike's Peak and the mountains to the west. We'll be living at an elevation of about 5,000-6,000 feet with pretty easy access to mountains as high up as 14,000 feet. We've driven through neighborhoods that are at 7,000+ feet. It will take many months to fully acclimate and adjust my approach to running. My dreams of running in the Leadville 100 and even the Hardrock Hundred will eventually come true. I'm talking with members of the Rocky Mountain Road Runners Club, the Incline Club (founded by Matt Carpenter), and the Denver Trail Runners.

I can't believe we're going out west. When people hear Denver, they say, "You're going to love it! It's beautiful and life there is so good." While that may be true, leaving Cleveland, which we consider our home, is painful and a little scary. But this move and the new life that awaits us are are going to be exciting. There will be many new possibilities.

Stay tuned!

Believe in yourself

A long time has passed since my last post. Life has kept me very busy these past few months. In fundraising, the end and beginning of each year are very hectic times. Not to make excuses, but my job has kept me busy. And life has kept me busy.


A sign to Carpenter Peak in Little, Colorado. Elevation 7,300 feet.

Beyond work, there is so much on my mind right now, and honestly I lost focus with my running and am only now regaining some sense of direction. That’s a good thing. It’s now February, the spring is approaching and I certainly want to be in super-good shape for a competitive racing season.

My schedule for 2010 is pretty up in the air. I’m still trying to figure out what races I’m going to run. I want to defend at the Mohican Trail 100 Mile Run but honestly the Burning River 100 Mile Endurance Run, which is hosting this year’s USATF 100-mile national championship, is alluring. Both are Ohio races and I know both courses well, but I know the BR100 course very well.

Despite a lack of focus these past few months, I’ve stayed on target with my mileage. I ran 70 miles per week throughout December and January and, with it now being February, have increased my output to 80 miles per week. Last week (1/25-1/31) I put in 81 miles and this week I’m projected to hit 85 miles. More importantly, I’m seeing great improvement in my weekly tempo runs and am doing my best with intervals despite treadmill speed limitations (maxes out at only 6:00/mile) and slick roads due to the snow and ice. I’ll stay in the 80s throughout February and then up the mileage to the 90s in March and—oh yes—100s in April, May, and beyond.

***

Last week we got back from a trip to Denver, where we visited with friends. Although we kept a very busy schedule, I did manage to get away for a little while on Sunday morning and run Carpenter Peak in Littleton’s Roxborough State Park—elevation 7,300 feet. That’s the highest elevation I’ve ever run and this was my first time in Denver or ever seeing the Colorado Rockies. The Rockies are spectacularly beautiful. I saw “rocky mountains” in Eastern Europe when I was an exchange student in college and I’ll never forget the site, but not since I saw the Colorado Rockies a few weeks ago have I seen such beauty. My Carpenter Peak run was a penultimate running experience for me. I had the time of my life and reaching the top—with its beautiful views—was an awesome experience. I’d love to someday get to the top of one of or many of Colorado’s 14,000-foot peaks.

Making my way up to Carpenter Peak.

I’d always pictured Denver as a mountain city. In reality, the city itself is on relatively flat and in some places hilly land—albeit high-up land (5,000-6,000 feet)—with the mountains just west and to the south. They are always on the horizon. It’s an extraordinary site. I can't imagine what the early pioneers must have thought as they made their way across the plains--huffing and puffing from the high altitude--and then suddenly saw these gigantic mountains far off. "Damn, we have to get past those things--but how?" they must have said. In these mountains legendary races like the Leadville 100, Hardrock Hundred, Pike’s Peak Marathon, Imogene Pass and other events are run. I dream of running Leadville and Hardrock one day…and maybe Pike’s Peak and Imogene. Living at sea level as I do, those races are a tall order.

At the top of Carpenter Peak. The sites around me were beautiful.

***

I was quite sick the week before we visited Denver and managed only 41 miles. I missed three whole days of running (Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday). Puking 10 times and missing a night of sleep as a result of a violent stomach bug takes a toll on you. I’m over it now and honestly I think the three days of not running did my body some good. I felt great last week as I did 81 miles and so far this week I’m A-OK.

I now realize that it took me a long time to fully recover from the North Coast 24-Hour back in early October. There’s a rule in distance running that I used to doubt but now think may actually be true. For every mile of a race you run, factor in one day of recovery. As I did 131 miles at the NC24 on Oct. 3-4, that means I needed 131 days—or just over four months—to fully recover. I’m now almost at 131 days. My left knee is still not 100% but is much better. I didn’t realize until very recently, when I actually started to feel good again, just how messed up I was for so long after the 24-hour. The immediate effects of the race—skin and bones from the fat burn (I looked like Skeletor after the race—just ask my wife), a shut-down digestive tract, a week of indigestion, zero appetite for three days, off-the-charts tiredness, badly damaged feet and toes, and a totally messed-up knee, heel, and arch—were only a prelude of what was to come: a very beaten up body and soul and the threat of burn-out. I’m glad the damage is now behind me. All for the better; I am a 100-mile trail runner and marathoner anyway.

***

Now, for a closing thought. I’m not sure what came first: my belief in myself when the cards are down, or my love of ultrarunning. Did ultrarunning force me to believe in myself, or am I an ultrarunner because I believe in myself? It’s the chicken and egg argument. Anyone who’s put themselves out there and run a 100-miler or 24-hour or some other super-long race knows what it’s like to have run all day and night and faced down and ultimately overcome enormous doubt stemming from physical, emotional and spiritual anguish. As you shuffle along, the lights are off and you’re in a dark tunnel. The eyes of evil are fixed on you and demons are swirling around. In the face of such dread and despair, you believe in yourself and find strength from something far greater than yourself—God, in my case, but maybe something else in yours—and you prevail.

The finish line and the buckle are not only rewards for persevering, but also a reaffirmation of your own humanity and strength. If you’re a dedicated ultrarunner, you’ve experienced a level of living few ever have—voluntary suffering in the search of something deeply personal revealing the basest elements of humanity and a spiritual rebirth. An achievement many call extraordinary and super-human only makes you realize how human you are and a humble person at that.

Here’s to the greatest sport of all—ultrarunning.

Running for the joy of running

This is one of my favorite times of year to run. While I always love running, it’s this time of year that I feel like I can run for the joy of running and am free of worrying about training for a particular race. Training comes on January 1. For now, I run for no other reason than the joy of covering distances in and around the Chagrin River valley and in areas near and far.

Embrace the abominable snowman deep within you!

There’s something very special about cold-weather running. When I wake up at 4:40 a.m. every day of the work week, I get into my cold-weather gear and go downstairs to check the temperature. This morning the thermometer read 20 degrees. I check the weather for myself when I let our dog, Sophie, out, making sure I’m dressing just right for the conditions. Then I down a cup of coffee and water and usually a slice of toast and put on my running jacket, hat, mittens/gloves, GPS watch, knee wrap, lights, Road ID, and other stuff before heading out the door. The first mile or so I’m usually pretty stiff and going slow. But then I loosen up and my pace increases. If it’s really cold, breathing can hurt. Sometimes my nose will go numb and my hands will get a little frigid. But there’s something so invigorating about running in the cold. I’m sure it’s the same way with cross-country skiing—an activity that I want to take up sooner or later.

A lot of people avoid the cold at all costs, staying indoors for basically the entire winter and working out in a gym unless they’re just hibernating. They’re missing out! So long as you have the right gear, running or walking outside during the winter months can be great fun. Just make sure you don’t wear cotton and don’t overdress! And if it’s icy or snowy, break out some YakTrax (which function like crampons) and burn up the road or trail! Be sure to wear a light so motorists can see you.

***

This week will mark my seventh consecutive week at 70+ miles as I remain in a low/moderate-mileage "holding pattern." I've found that 70 miles per week is just right for keeping in good shape and just on the threshold of very good but not excellent shape (excellent shape comes at 90 miles per week and championship shape at 100+ per week). I feel really good right now. My legs are strong and, except for some minor patella femoral pain in my left knee, all injuries from the North Coast 24-Hour are healed. My knee wrap keeps the problem at bay and eventually it'll go away. My leg turnover is back to normal. I'm strong on the trails again and have some extra kick I haven't had in a while. This past weekend I covered 13 miles on Saturday and 18.5 miles Sunday and it was easy. I'm just where I want to be.

The plan is still for me to implement some quality starting on January 1. For January, I’m going to hold the weekly mileage steady at about 70-75 and introduce tempo running and some intervals—mostly all on my treadmill as the roads this time of year (and for the next 3-4 months) are usually too icy to go really fast—as in 6:00-6:15 pace. In the spirit of what I wrote above, I’ll still do the vast majority of my running outside because that’s where it’s most enjoyable. Every month between now and June I’m going to add 10 miles per week as I build up to spring and summer races. So that would come out to 70s in January, 80s in February, 90s in March, racing in April as I plan to run the Boston Marathon, 100-110 in May, and still 100-110 in June when I plan to run the Mohican 100. I think that’s a good plan.

***

In my last post I feel like I didn’t adequately express how I look back on the North Coast 24-Hour, which was held on Oct. 3-4 here in Cleveland and served as the USATF 24-hour national championship. I think I came across as saying my result at the race was a disappointment and nothing more.


Me at my lowest point during the North Coast 24.

Yes, I was unhappy with the result (130.67 miles and ninth overall) and yes, I believe I underachieved that day. I think I left at least 5 and as many as 10 miles on the course and had a faulty approach to the race, focusing too much on my 100-mile split and too little on a strategy encompassing the entire 24 hours. I think in many respects I ran the first 100-110 miles by myself. After that, I was spent and really dug deep (as you can see in the photo), inspired by all the family members, fellow runners, co-workers, and other friends who were supporting me—to the tune of $2,500—in my efforts to raise money for Rainbow Babies & Children’s Hospital.

When things got the worst for me, I thought about the kids and families at Rainbow who were going through a much more difficult time than I was enduring on the North Coast 24 course. I could step off the course and quit at any time. The kids and families at Rainbow had no such option. So I ran and did my best, and in the process I managed to use a selfish endeavor (running) to do some good in the world. The North Coast 24 was an incredible experience—one I will never forget. Every year I’m going to make an effort to support a children’s charity through my running. Running can’t be about me—it needs to also be about helping others.

All in!

End-of-year plans and random thoughts

I'm now working on my fifth consecutive week of 70-plus miles. My leg turnover has returned. I'm able to power up the hills in the Chagrin Valley--hills that were kicking my ass in the days and weeks following the North Coast 24-Hour Endurance Run on Oct. 3-4. I haven't felt even a hint of discomfort in my once-ailing foot. Except for some minor aches in my hamstrings (what else is new?), I'm feeling mighty good and am primed for a big 2010.

So far, 2010 will include the Boston Marathon (already registered) in April and the Mohican Trail 100-Mile Run (comped) in June. I'm planning to run either the Buckeye Trail 50K (already registered) in mid-July or the Burning River 100 later that month. The 2010 BR100 will host the USATF 100-mile national championships and if I'm healthy from Mohican I'd like to join in on the action. Nothing stokes me more than a 100-miler.

Between now and then, I'm just going to enjoy running and train as hard as I can. For the rest of 2009--only about three more weeks--I'm avoiding anything really fast and am instead just training at about 7:15-7:45 pace. I did 21.4 miles a few Sundays ago and it was easy. I did 17.5 miles last Sunday and it felt like 5 miles. Time off from speed is really paying dividends. I feel very strong.

I'm also doing some cross-training and am continuing with my core strengthening. Every Monday I cycle on my indoor trainer for about 35 minutes and feel a nice burn in my lower quads--historically a weak spot for me that I plan to address this winter. Right now I'm not running at all on Mondays and thus on Tuesdays when I go for my first run of the week (my weeks are Monday-Sunday) I feel fresh as a daisy. I'll resume running seven days a week and will start upping the mileage come January 1 when my training for the Boston Marathon starts in ernest.

In terms of running, I think right now--as I log 70 miles a week and am enjoying a little extra leisure time that would otherwise be spent on a second run of the day--I'm exactly where I need to be. The goal is to be strong, fresh and well-rested by January 1, and then start amping it up to get ready for Boston. I may add a super-easy week somewhere between now and New Year's Day just for added effect.

One thing I've learned over the past few years is that what you're doing now will play a major role in what you do this summer. I'm emphasizing the enjoyment of running and not pushing myself too hard while still logging decent mileage and attempting to eat well.

The plan for Boston is simple--and it revolves around tempo runs and hills. No one approach works for everyone. For me, I've found that tempo running is critical. I'll be cranking out weekly tempo runs on my treadmill, unless Mother Nature allows me to go fast outdoors. I'm also going to do intervals but my treadmill maxes out at only 6:00/mile so going really fast will not be possible. I may try to get to an indoor track or club treadmill a few times to crank out 5:35s. We'll see. The plan revolves around tempo running and hills of the uphill and downhill varieties.

The hills will help me in Boston--and also at Mohican. Many may not know this, but Chagrin Falls is an amazing place to run and become a great hill runner. Everywhere you turn there's a long hill. I used to do zig-zags from Chagrin River Road up to Som Center Road/91 via the very hilly Jackson and Miles roads and will start doing that again soon.

I'd like to run a 2:55 or better at Boston.

***

Looking back on 2009, here's how I see the year:

Best race
Mohican 100--taking the lead at mile 86, not stopping at the mile-95 aid station and ultimately winning the race by 22 minutes.

Most surprising result
17:39 at the Aurora 5K. I was in much better shape than I'd thought.

Most fun race
This is tough, but I'd have to say the Lt. JC Stone 50K. This race was planned and executed flawlessly and I really enjoyed the whole experience.

Most frustrating race
Cleveland Marathon. I never got in a rythym and the wind really took a toll on me. I didn't have much in the bank when I crossed in 2:59:02.

Biggest disappointment
130.67 miles at the North Coast 24-Hour. I left at least 5 and maybe as many as 10 miles on that course. I had a meltdown in the early-morning hours of Sunday and was finally able to regroup after covering only about 2-3 miles in one hour.

Most rewarding race
Through the North Coast 24-Hour, I raced over $2,500 for University Hospitals Rainbow Babies & Children's Hospital to support its child-life programs. Rainbow cares for every child who enters its doors; no child is turned away. When the going really got rough at the NC24, I thought about all the kids and parents at Rainbow for whom I was running...and I found a way to keep going.

Single-best moment
Crossing the Mohican 100 finish line with my arms raised.

Single-worst moment
The last 7 hours of the North Coast 24-Hour were hell. I went to places in my soul I've never gone before--and hope never to revisit. I'm not sure when my next 24-hour will be, but at least I'll know what's coming.

All in.

The Edge

I recently watched Michael Jordan's hall of fame induction speech. It was pretty powerful and hard-hitting, though a bit raw. Jordan is the greatest, most dominant athlete I've ever seen in my life. He could jump like no one else, drive to the inside and dunk over you and, later in his career, pull up from almost anywhere and drain a three. And could he ever play defense. He was the closest thing to the perfect basketball player that you'll ever find.

Jordan's greatness was about his competitiveness, mental toughness and work ethic as much as his God-given physical skills and talent. He was so competitive and tough that when the game was on the line he wanted the ball--and it seemed everytime he sunk the winning basket and broke the hearts of many rooting for the other team. With him on the team, the Chicago Bulls won six consecutive NBA championships during the nineties (they didn't win during his brief retirement). Through it all, Jordan practiced harder than anyone--the first to show up and the last to leave. He also played harder than anyone, nearly throwing away his career over gambling and a misguided and thankfully brief foray into baseball.



As a man of decent but by no means great athletic ability, I don't look much to the immortals like Michael Jordan for inspiration because it's hard for me to relate to them. But I do draw from what made him great--competitive energy and a tireless work ethic. That said, Larry Bird honestly inspires me more than almost any other athlete--the fictional character Rocky notwithstanding. Bird played his heart out and talked some trash in the process. He had the sweetest jump shot there ever was. He played defense like a crazed Rottweiler, chasing you everywhere and trying to tear you to pieces. He never gave up. He was always angling for the upper hand. He ran down the court harder than the other players. Guys probably hated playing against Bird because he worked them harder than anyone (until Jordan came along). He was the ultimate plugger.

I try to run like Bird played basketball. I run with my heart, and I run hard. I'm not nearly as good at running as Bird was at basketball, but Bird had a mental edge that inspires me. I may not be elite fast--I never will be--my VO2 max might not be otherworldly (though I've never had it measured), and I might have only a limited number of fast-twitch fibers, but what I do have is intense focus and the will to work hard and then harder.

It wasn't always that way. When I was kid, I was timid, weak and anything but competitive. When I ran cross-country, I didn't run hard. I just ran without really caring much about where I finished, how fast I went and who I beat.

Things changed when I left cross-country behind and went out for the varsity football team, wanting to be like my big brother who was an excellent football player. There was this senior on our team who was a bully and really piled on the younger players like me. He took cheap shots at us and was really just a bad guy. He ridiculed a lot of the young players--including me--and no one stood up to him. Not even the seniors. This only empowered him to be more aggressive.

One day in practice I was at linebacker and he was on the offensive line. I was still learning so much about the game and the contact aspect intimidated me. Oklahoma drills had been nearly terrifying for me. He'd been doing his usual that day--hammering on the young guys like me and taunting us as well. I took it without really fighting back--as I'd always done. Finally, after he put a few nasty licks on me, I just got pissed off--not sure what exactly sent me over the edge--and went after him on the next play. I didn't knock him on his ass, but I sure hit him hard enough to send the message that I wasn't his victim. I wasn't anyone else's victim, either. I went hard from that day forward.

Things began to change after that day. I'm not sure why. Sometimes it's hard--I think--for those who knew me then as a weak, timid kid to recognize who I am today. I go hard, push myself and am always looking to go to the next level in exploring the limits of my endurance. I want to win and eventually go to the outer rim of what I can do. Sometimes this drive is misguided and hard to understand.

I wonder how many people out there have something deep within them that has never found its way into their being. How many people have gone through life without that trigger event that brought out their best and made them go for it all? It is for this reason that I want to continue focusing on ways I can help inspire people to run, achieve their goals and take on new challenges. Just as that bully found out that day, sometimes a raging fire can emerge from a weak flame in the blink of an eye.

Back in the saddle again! / Training week 11/9-11/15

I'm back in the saddle again! I'm back! I'm back in the saddle again! I'm back!

Sorry, but although I'm not a huge Aerosmith fan, I do love that song--and the lyrics pretty closely fit how I'm feeling right now. For the first time since the North Coast 24 on Oct. 3-4, I'm healthy and feeling pretty good. My heel is much better and I can run pain-free. My left knee is close to perfect. I battled influenza the week before last but am pretty well over that, too. Life is good.

For the week of Nov. 9-15, I covered 70 miles--the most miles I've run in one week since the 24-hour. It was great hitting 70 miles after weeks of struggling with heel bursitis and a series of aches and pains along with a case of influenza. At this time of year, I like to hold my weekly mileage to about 70-75 as I see this as my optimal maintenance level. I still have no plans for racing in 2009 and will instead focus on staying healthy, enjoying the holidays, running for the joy of running and getting ready for an awesome 2010 highlighted by the Boston Marathon and the Mohican Trail 100-Mile Run!

***


Meb Keflezighi winning the ING New York City Marathon on Nov. 1 with a time of 2:09:15--a personal best for one of America's all-time distance running greats.

In my last post, I failed to mention that something truly special happened in New York City on Nov. 1. The great American distance runner Mebrahtom "Meb" Keflezighi, 34, won the ING New York City Marathon with a scorching time of 2:09:15, becoming the first American since Alberto Salazar in 1982 to break the tape in the Big Apple's big race.

Anne and I watched the two-hour marathon special on NBC that Sunday, aired a few hours after the actual event concluded. Although we knew by that time that Meb had won for the men and Ethiopia's Derartu Tulu, 37, for the women with a 2:29:52, it was still quite exciting to watch as they fought off some strong competition. Tulu, with her forward-leaning form and ridiculous running resume, overtook world record-holder and defending ING champion Paula Radcliffe and never really looked back. Watching Tulu in action, it's hard not to really like her.

Meb's victory was/is amazing on several levels. First of all, he beat a very deep field that included Robert Cheruiyot, Ryan Hall, defending champion Marilson Gomes dos Santos, and many others. Second, Meb missed a lot of 2008 with a broken hip--a year in which he also lost one of his closest friends, Ryan Shay, at the US Olympic Marathon Trials in New York's Central Park. And third, I think a lot of people (myself included) mistakenly figured that Meb's best years were behind him. Wrong on that third count!

Given the magnitude of Meb's achievement, it's simply amazing that more wasn't made of his victory--and of the fact that six Americans finished in the top-10 at New York. US distance running is making a comeback! And yet so few people heard about what Meb and his fellow Americans did that day.

One friend I spoke with said Meb isn't really American since he was born in Africa--and so why should Americans really feel proud? Nonsense! Yes, Meb was born in Eritrea, but he came up through the American distance running system (attended San Diego High School and then UCLA, where he won basically everything), won a silver medal at the 2004 Olympic Marathon for the US, and very much showed his love of country when he crossed the New York City Marathon finish line wearing a USA singlet and draping himself in the flag. He became a naturalized citizen in 1998. He is as American as apple pie and I think Americans should be very proud that one of our countrymen--a real class act in an age of classless acts--won a race no American had won in 26 years. Go Meb!

***

Elite marathoners like Meb are amazing athletes. A lot of people might say elite distance runners aren't necessarily great athletes--just great runners. I couldn't disagree more. Elite distance runners--especially those at the marathon level--possess extraordinary natural abilities few have. They improve on their natural abilities through carefully-planned training to ensure that they peak at race time. During training peaks, I cover 100+ miles per week, run intervals around the track and blow down the roads at tempo pace and I'll never, ever approach what the elites like Meb do. Why? Because they have off-the-charts natural athletic abilities and I have only a limited amount of talent.

The distance-running elites have:

• Tons of natural speed. Otherwise how else could they average sub-5:00 miles over 26.2 miles.
• Ridiculous VO2 max. Running at such speeds over long distances, they need tons of oxygen, requiring VO2 maxes that very few people could ever achieve regardless of what they did for training.
• Strength/endurance. It's hard to see strength in those skinny marathoners but--trust me--they have plenty of it. Their muscles have to be strong, resilient and loaded with endurance to support sub-5:00 pace over 26.2 miles. Most people who would try to run a sub-5:00 mile would burn out after maybe 100 or so yards. The elites can do that over 26.2 miles--just as Meb did at New York!
• Perfect bio-mechanics. Most of the great distance runners have near-perfect bio-mechanics, meaning they can run with maximum efficiency. Everything from their foot work to their arm work functions in such a way that they use energy in the most efficient manner possible. Virtually no energy is wasted.

You can improve in each of these areas through hard work--I know I have. But I also know that, regardless of how hard I work, I'll never run a 2:09 marathon or even come close to it. It is for this reason that I really am in awe of elites like Meb. What they do is so amazing and so special that I believe in my heart and in my mind that not only are they great athletes--they're among the best athletes alive today.

All in!