Winning Is Not To Those Who Run The Fastest

A response to Ms. Adrienne Wald in "Plodders Have a Place, but Is It in a Marathon?" featured in The New York Times by Juliet Macur on October 22, 2009.

I was relaxing in the tub with the latest issue (#373, January / Februrary 2010) of Running Times, when I read the following QUOTABLE section (page 9):

“It’s a joke to run a marathon by walking every other mile or by finishing in six, seven, eight hours,” said Adrienne Wald, 54, the women’s cross-country coach at the College of New Rochelle, who ran her first marathon in 1984. “It used to be that running a marathon was worth something—there used to be a pride saying that you ran a marathon, but not anymore. Now it’s, ‘How low is the bar?’ ”

Alerted by the quote, I wanted to find the context. Within a few clicks, I found the original article from The New York Times, cited above.

I am fuming and am so disappointed and disheartened with such an attitude, my thoughts catch fire. And I'm really not sure where I sit on Ms. Wald's hierarchy of "deserving" marathon runners. Perhaps I have ruined her running career also, stripped it of worth, depleting any value in her pride of running a marathon with my sluggish times ranging from 4:17 (my first) to 3:38 (my most recent). But regardless of however worthless a marathoner I am in her eyes, I will happily defend the rights of even slower marathoners across the world to toe the starting line--and experience the thrill of crossing it 26.2 miles later.

So, as controversial as this blog entry might be, I am going to vent through a few reasons why everyone should have the right to experience the dream of finishing a marathon: whether it is their first, their last, their only or their slowest.

1. Not all marathon runners are about the time. One of the people I work with on his marathoning explained it this way: "When I ran my first marathon, I was carrying ribbons for people with cancer. I would have crawled to get them across the finish. It was not about the time." As he raised thousands of dollars for cancer research in honor of loved ones, he further explained, "The world class God-gifted athlete is an inspiration--a thing of beauty. An average runner hitting a PR is a success. But, getting from start to finish is to some a life-giving effort."

Just to take the benefits of one well-known fund-raising society, In 2008, Team In Training has had more than 360,000 volunteer participants raise over $850 million to support blood cancer research and patient services for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The Society uses at least 74 cents of every dollar raised for cancer programs, funding research to find cures to leukemia, Hodgkin's and non-Hodgkin's lymphomas, and myeloma--the blood cancers--as well as assistance with the often overwhelming burdens faced by patients and their families currently fighting blood cancers. Many of those runners are known for their slower times, but yet, perhaps their running and completing a marathon event benefits others more than Ms. Wald's running and completing a marathon.

2. The marathon is big enough for everyone. As long as everyone generally does a good job of estimating their pace, the fast runners, the middle-of-the-packers and the back-of-packers are all well separated from each other. Particularly with the larger races where there are starting corrals, mistakes of where to line-up largely cannot be made. Ms. Wald, the really fast guys (and gals), the top 100 won't even know the rest of us exist. We're frankly not running the "same" race, and no one would mistake us for competing with Deena Kastor, Kara Goucher or Ryan Hall.

3. Local Economy boost. When a city is holding a major marathon event of 10,000 runners or more, everybody wins. The local food, hospitality and retail industries all benefit. People often plan their vacation dollars around prime location events. Large marathons benefit the community economy as a whole.

4. Bigger marathons can give a richer experience. Bring in 10,000, 20,000 or even 40,000 people and you get world-class expos where runners can be exposed to a dream world of running gear, motivational speakers, health products, etc. And the power and the energy of running along with crowds in the hundreds of thousands is so exciting. The more runners you have, the more spectators you have.

5. Inspirational stories. Just because someone completes a slow marathon doesn't mean they will always be--or were--always slow. But, regardless, the stories that people have to tell of their experience in preparing for and overcoming obstacles--even for a slow finish--are positively inspiring. Here are a couple, one I don't know, and one that is very close to me.

Major Phil Packer, who lost the use of his legs in a rocket attack in Iraq last year, finally crossed the London Marathon finish line in thirteen days. He completed his Herculian task - covering the 52,400 steps of the 26.2-mile course at a rate of two miles a day, the maximum distance he was advised to attempt by doctors--to raise a million pounds for the charity Help for Heroes--which provides financial assistance for wounded British servicemen.

From one of the runners I've recently worked with (beginning in August, after he already had a stress fracture), here's a story that hasn't been told.

In his night before the marathon, he wrote to me:

"As a Greek I was raised with stories of ancient Greece. When Spartan mothers would say their goodbyes to their sons before they went into battle they would give them their shields and say, H TAN H EPI TAS--"Come back with it or upon it." I go in that spirit tomorrow."

And after that race, as he shared his experience and race photo at the start:

"I was the absolute LAST person to cross the start line. I planned it that way so I could savor the moment since it was, in reality, a finish line, if you know what I mean. I was happy when I crossed the finish line, but I cried when I crossed the start line. I don't know if I told you that I am 55 and am a cancer survivor--diagnosed with stage 4B Hodgkins Disease in 1983 and in remission since 1984. I could never have done this without you. You helped me to win twice today--by starting and finishing. I will always deem the medal to be half yours, if not all yours. I suffered the stress fracture in late June, missed all of July & August, and only had five weeks or so with short runs for the first few weeks and tapering at the end. Into this scenario came your words, 'You CAN finish.' "

I will tell you, I was more moved by his experience, and coming back WITH his shield, and not upon it, than the thing of beauty of an elite marathoner flying over the finish line. I cried for him and with him at that victory.

And I would never presume to deny anyone the dream of finishing a marathon, whatever their motivation might be.

Dangers of Overdressing for a Cold Run

The forecast combined lows for the next seven days is 4F. And today is New Year's Day. Maybe I don't have any New Year's Resolutions, but that doesn't mean I am not quite determined. I just couldn't face the treadmill yet one more day. Not after yesterday's eleven miles on it.

My general rule is if it's below 28 F, I run indoors. But even though the temp was somewhere between 2 F and 11 F this morning (depending on the t.v. channel), I decided to give outdoors a spin. I am not an experienced cold-weather runner, and I don't like being cold. So, my theory was to just pile the layers on. I only had six miles, so this was something of an experiment. Maybe if I could be mostly comfortable for this run, I'd run more of what is appearing to be a long, cold winter--outdoors, and off the treadmill.

I pulled on two layers of socks, two layers on the bottom, four layers on the top and then a heavy fleece vest. I topped this off with a balaclava and two layers of gloves, one thin, one thick. I figured I should be pretty comfy. I stepped outside, trotted up a long flight of stairs and started out nice and slowly, to get a feel for what it was like to run in such cold.

Surprisingly, I felt comfortable. Warm, even. It seemed quite pleasant, and was surprised that by even a half mile I was not cold. For a moment at that point, I considered unzipping my vest... just to let a little cool in. But it was so cold intellectually, that I decided to wait, and that over-warm feeling never returned.

By the time I'd turned around, my entire back side from shoulders to mid-thigh was feeling quite chilled and my chest was also beginning to feel cold. And rather than feeling more energized, which I usually do once I turn around at that point, I was feeling sluggish, almost "out of it." I didn't immediately equate what was happening to me, but remember thinking that if I didn't perk up, the next three miles were going to be long ones. From here, I usually run a strong negative split. But, I definitely wasn't feeling it.

As I ran along, the cold became almost painful on my body, switching between stinging pain and aching pain. And I remember being surprised that I was getting colder and not warmer. I thought maybe it was because my granny pace was slowing and not getting faster. That must be why I was getting so cold. Oddly, my breathing was shallow and my vision becoming blurry. I wondered if there were smoke in the air. Then, even more oddly, I started to feel less cold as I got closer to home.

At last, I made it to my house, and gingerly made it down the stairs, feeling nauseated and confused--drunk almost. And no, I was sober and asleep by 10:30 PM last night. In the door, heading upstairs to the shower, ascending the stairs was akin to crawling in molasses. As if I were in a dream and my feet were sticking to each step. I unzipped my vest, and it was saturated. I held it puzzled, trying to recall if it snowed or rained on me while I ran. I could not for the life of me recall if it did or did not at the time, though I stood there and tried to think about it. I couldn't quite put my finger on why my fifth layer--a heavy fleece vest was so wet. Each subsequent layer was drenched, and it slowly dawned on me what had happened. It was sweat, yet I never once had the sensation of sweating. I expected all five layers to be bone dry.

I climbed into the shower... not feeling the hot water. Letting it all run out until it was cold again. And my mind was clearing. I thought I might take my temperature after the shower, and fumbled for the thermometer. Finding it, letting it register, it was 96.0F. I can only imagine what it was when I walked in the door, most likely below 95.0F.

The most important valuable lesson here is that I did not realize how cold I was. I never once realized I was sweating early on. Had this run been a few more miles, it would have been quite dangerous. So, while these temperatures can be run comfortably and safely, it is just as dangerous to overdress as it is to underdress.

I will now learn to appropriately dress for my cold runs and recognize the signs and symptoms of hypothermia.

A Reflection on The Girl of Years' Past

Odd that New Year's would come for me with no resolutions. It's not that I am without goals, but those goals aren't resolutions, per se. One of the most common resolutions, of course, is to "lose weight" or "get fit." That's not where my head is for 2010.

This week, I was combing through old photos on an SD card for my daughter and came across some P90X "before" pictures that were three years old. Months before my first marathon. I hardly recognized myself as I peered closely, some twenty pounds heavier than I am today. And the weight was everywhere, not just my belly--I was just... bigger. My arms, my shoulders, my hips, my legs--even my face.

Fast forward to two years later--a little less than a year ago, I remember peering at myself in the mirror where that three-year-old visual was my exact self image. Still. In my mind, I was OK in clothes maybe, but soft and slightly heavier than I should be--the girl from the "before" pictures. Certainly not fast, and I didn't look like a runner. I then truly looked at the girl in the mirror before me, lean, fierce, runner-like, and I wondered who she was. I didn't recognize her and wondered from where she came...

Now, I am on the other side mentally. I have become accustomed to the "runner" me, and I don't recognize the girl of three years ago.

I am all about goals, but no resolutions for me this year.

A Little Tempo Run

I awoke, yanked from my dreamy slumber, aware of two things: My twin tapping my shoulder complaining of hunger and the wind buffeting the house. It was 7:30 AM. My two best running buds, Rick and Travis, had already been running for an hour. Good for them. I'd just slept 9.5 hours straight. I was feeling lazy.

Today's run called for 2 mile warm-up, 5 miles between 7:45 and 7:50, and a 3 mile cool-down. Now, I have to admit a few things. While I might be "warm" after two miles, I am usually not ready to kick it into a decent pace quite yet. I also knew that the 5 miles at that pace was going to be a challenge to finish. Or, so I thought. And once I did finish, I was going to need a walk break to recover, and it was really the last three miles that were going to be hard. I knew I'd be excited and challenged enough to finish the "hard" part.

So, I considered two alternatives. One, flip the cool-down and warm-up miles (3 first and then 2), or two, run all 5 up front and when I was done with the workout, I was done. I decided to take it by feel. I ran my first mile especially slow, asking nothing of my body yet, 9:14. I then gradually worked the pace down, and by 3 miles was feeling good, but decided I'd feel even better if I just kept going. So, I finished the 5 easy, and was feeling great and ready to work.

I locked the next 5 miles in at 7:47 pace, and started counting backwards from 39:00 minutes. When I had 8 minutes to go, my mind was thinking maybe I was tired.. and I really did have to convince myself it would be worse to say I couldn't do the run; or didn't do the run than it would be to just hang in there. But, I found as I approached 4 minutes to go, I was getting so excited I'd nailed the run, that my energy surged, and I actually wanted to pick UP the pace.

I am quite pleased that I did well, and found the 7:47 surprisingly comfortable to hang at for awhile!

Treadmill Running

Yesterday, one of the athletes with whom I am working asked me: "Is it OK to do all of my training on the treadmill for the half marathon coming up in March?"

I thought it was a great question, especially as we head into winter. I know his goals well, and where he is, so he received a very specific answer. But, as I was running today (outside for the first time in a week), I decided to explore this topic a little more deeply as a blog entry. In short, it really depends.

I used to go outside and tough it out under any conditions. My first 10-miler ever was when the air temperature was 10 F, and the winds were blowing heavily. I ran dressed like the Pilsbury dough boy, with a scarf wrapped twice around my nose and mouth to help me breathe. I've run in rain, freezing rain, pouring rain, sleet, wind, mud, ice, snow and triple-degree temps. I've been caught on the trail with the tornado sirens going off as a twister touched down less than 6 miles from me; and I've been caught on the trail, alone at night, only to find no light whatsoever available to me and more than a few miles to go. So, it's not that I am not tough enough to brave some questionable conditions.

Running on the treadmill has more than just those obvious benefits--protecting you from less than agreeable conditions.

But, there is one caveat: The treadmill needs to be calibrated, accurate and of very high quality. Treadmill speeds and distances can vary wildly, seriously misleading you into believing that you were running a specific pace or distance. Generally speaking, you get what you pay for. The less expensive, fold-up treadmills are far less accurate. There are a few brands (e.g., Precor) that have come out on top of numerous speed and distance accuracy tests. If you consistently run on a particular treadmill, make sure you've done your research.

Here are some advantages of treadmill running:

1. Pace teaching. I've run so many miles on my treadmill at specific paces, that I easily and quickly settle into desired paces and hold it steadily. I've "learned" exactly what certain paces feel like. I honestly believe it's so many miles on the treadmill that have given me the "machine like" quality to my legs and pacing that I've developed.
2. Safety. Ok, rather obvious, but there are definitely times it's just flat out more safe to run indoors (late at night, icy conditions, lightning).
3. No cheating on the treadmill. You are forced to hold the pace (as long as you can hang on) until that portion of your run or workout is complete. If your treadmill is accurate, this is a no-brainer. You can't slack off.
4. Lower impact than road running. This can be great if you are recovering from an injury, but also a good measure if you are always running on asphalt or concrete. I wouldn't want to run all six of my weekly runs on roads, and sometimes the trails are not convenient to get to.
5. Successful hard workouts. If I have a particular workout coming up that requires a very specific pace over a certain distance (like 1K repeats), and the workout seems rather challenging, I will more often than not do it on the treadmill to be sure I'm nailing it. This is especially true if the paces might be impacted by terrain other than a 400M track (which for most of us isn't readily available).

And a few disadvantages of excessive treadmill running:

1. Burnout. Too many runs back-to-back on a treadmill become quite monotonous. I've learned to deal with runs of up to about 9 or 10 miles pretty easily, but beyond that, I really have a tough time. And it isn't a physical thing, it's all mental. I just get bored and my mind wants me to stop. And after several days of nothing else, I just dread hopping on the moving belt.. and sometimes call it the "dreadmill."
2. Lack of strengthening supporting tendons, ligaments and muscles. Let's face it; if you only run on a treadmill and then suddenly go run a single track trail with a few rocks and roots, if you're lucky, your stability system (e.g. peroneal tendons) will only be sore. Worst case, you will be far more likely to roll your ankle or otherwise hurt yourself.
3. Preparedness for road running (impact). Yes, the treadmill is lower impact. A lot lower. If you are going to be competitive on road racing, you need to do at least some of your miles on the road to prepare your musculoskeletal system for the rigors of what's coming.
4. Learning to pace on your own. Sure, treadmill can help teach pacing, but if you don't go out and verify that you can hold your pace and practice it without the treadmill, don't expect it to work on race day.
5. Inability to deal with race day conditions. If you've never run in wind, cold, heat, mud or other inclement conditions, you might be surprised on race day. You should experience each of these to some degree if you ever expect to race in such conditions.
6. Lack of hills. I hate hills. Really. Those of you who know me know that I will go to great lengths to avoid races with hills if I care about my time. But, that being said, running hills as either part of your regular run or as striders at the end or even full-on hill repeats will make you more powerful. And if race day has hills (up AND down), you'd better have practiced on a few of them.

A few tips on successful treadmill running:

1. Treadmill isn't equivalent to running outdoors. Lack of wind, a moving belt, etc., make the treadmill just slightly easier than an outside run. Set your treadmill to a 1% incline always as a baseline equivalent.
2. Break up the run. Consider even something as simple as one minute at one pace, the next minute at another, and go back, alternating minutes. Expand to longer times, and possibly vary many slightly different speeds. It gives your mind something to look forward to. If your goal is to run 7.5 mph for the whole run after a warm-up, try varing between 7.3 and 7.7, inching up and down as certain minutes tick by.
3. Mark the segments of your run. You might have seen my "10 beads" entry. I keep a stash of pretty, hand carved bone beads in the windowsill by my treadmill. I just move them one at a time from the left to the right of the treadmill when I am doing intervals or segments of a fartlek of any kind. I used to have a string of beads across the front of my treadmill, and I would slide beads to the right as certain percentages of my run were complete.
4. Watch a movie or t.v. show, or listen to an audio book. Ok, this is only for the easy runs. If you are running hard, you won't be able to concentrate. But, this can be a great way to click off the miles if you are just trying to put some distance onto the belt.

Treadmill running can be a great supplement to your training. But don't let it rob you of the joy of running outdoors! Most of us didn't fall in love with the sport at the gym.

Vitamin "Do"

People make fun of me when I travel and they see the regimen of supplements I take every morning. Actually, all day long it takes me to spread things out, take multiple doses, etc. I guard my secret mixture, both in contents and quantity, because I really do believe some of what I take gives me a competitive edge (in addition to just helping me stay healthy or make up for a lack in diet).

But, there is one supplement in particular I take that is getting a lot of attention lately. For the record, I've been taking it in high doses long before it was "cool." It could be the most powerful supplement I take, impacting my health, athletic performance and is a key factor in my injury prevention. And if you aren't taking it yourself, you should add it to your mornings (and quite possibly evenings) as well. What is it?

Vitamin D. It's not just for your bones. After Deena Kastor's bone cracking injury in mile three of Beijing in 2008, and subsequently testing positive for a Vitamin D deficiency, it is widely known in the athletic community that Vitamin D is essential for calcium absorption and an important preventative for stress fractures. But, new evidence suggests there are other reasons athletes should be taking high doses (some sources suggest up to 2,000 IU per day if you are getting little to no sunlight).

"Activated Vitamin D is a steroid hormone that regulates over 1,000 human genes. Recent research indicates intracellular Vitamin D levels in numerous human tissues, including nerve and muscle tissues are increased when inputs of its substrate, the prehormone Vitamin D, are increased. A consistent literature indicates physical and athletic performance is seasonal; it peaks when Vitamin D levels peak [due to ultra-violet ray exposure in sun light], declines as they decline, and reaches its nadir when levels are at their lowest." (Source)

"Although few studies have looked closely at the issue of Vitamin D and athletic performance, those that have are suggestive. A series of strange but evocative studies undertaken decades ago in Russia and Germany, for instance, hint that the Eastern Bloc nations may have depended in part on sunlamps and Vitamin D to produce their preternaturally well-muscled and world-beating athletes. In one of the studies, four Russian sprinters were doused with artificial, ultraviolet light. Another group wasn’t. Both trained identically for the 100-meter dash. The control group lowered their sprint times by 1.7 percent. The radiated runners, in comparison, improved by an impressive 7.4 percent." (Source)

"More recently, when researchers tested the vertical jumping ability of a small group of adolescent athletes, Larson-Meyer says, “they found that those who had the lowest levels of Vitamin D tended not to jump as high,” intimating that too little of the nutrient may impair muscle power." (Source)

Even training outside, you might not get enough: "[Earlier this year,] researchers found that many of a group of distance runners also had poor Vitamin D status. Forty percent of the runners, who trained outdoors in sunny Baton Rouge, Louisiana, had insufficient Vitamin D." (Source)

It's a simple, inexpensive add to your routine, and well worth it. Hmm... or, maybe we should all organize a week-long sunny, tropical cruise during the winter just for runners! It's 15F here this morning. Brr.

10 Beads

I'm now convinced the human body is capable of a lot more work when you think you're tired and want to quit. The effort required to complete a tough interval session, or race, or anything that pushes you close to that edge becomes mental. Because when you are running at an uncomfortable pace or for an uncomfortable amount of time, you can always just stop. It's simple. (Now, I'm not talking about pressing through a workout that you should really modify because your body is feeling particularly flat on a day, or over trained.)

My lazy body urges me at the slightest pressing, "Hello? It's me again. Um, I think I'm kind of tired. *Yawn* See?" Or, say, "Could we just take a bit of a break? Maybe, rest our feet up on the couch and eat some bon-bons? That sounds like a lot more fun than this."

Yesterday marked my first day of a little speedwork / interval work since the end of 5K season in May 2009. While I feel I have lost little strength and endurance from Chicago (I am running very strong since about three weeks after the marathon), it is evident the 5K sharpness I used to recognize has waned. I'm hoping to acquire a new 5K PR (<22:00) at the end of January in my favorite Kansas City race (the Groundhog 5K / 10K). Thus.. I need to do a little work!

In preparation for that, Vince gave me 10 intervals at a decent pace (a nice little intro to get my feet moving again). Typically, my mind has trouble keeping count (yes, I'm blonde) after about the fourth interval. So, I had the clever idea of starting with 10 beads, and moving one from the right to the left for each interval. This actually ending up being a fabulous idea, as my mind was able to visualize an end to the work, measure progress, and know that with each interval, I had less and less to go each time. And I ended up feeling better and more focused as each hand carved bead moved, thrilled when I had only one bead to go. Sometimes, it's the little things...