I've had a week to think about this, although I really didn't need to think that hard.
After 25 years in the radio business, I got downsized out of my current broadcasting job last week. It didn't come as much of a shock, considering current economic times, but I didn't expect it to happen to me. Not to worry, though, really. The radio gig was a side job. At my "real" job, I got a promotion, more money, and a better schedule. All in all, I'm a happy camper.
That said, I will sorely miss nearly every one of the people I've worked with in the newsroom. I'll miss the snarkiness. I'll miss the often-unbridled laughter. I'll miss the "freebies". But I will not miss the job.
What does this have to do with my 12in12 challenge? Pretty near everything, actually.
As of January I will no longer have to be at my real job until 10am...instead of the 7am I've been doing for years. That means I can run every freakin' morning if I want to. It also means I will have two whole days off every week, which makes even more time for training runs. It also means I may sleep in every day, if able. I'm a 5 o'clock wake-up guy, and have been all my life. That's probably not going to change.
This could not have happened at a better time, I'm thinking. The 12in12 is shaping up nicely. I have booked my runs through April and have decided which others I'll sign up for when finances allow. For the update, and links to their web sites, check the list to the right. The only month I haven't decided on is August. Not much going on that month that won't cost an arm and a leg to get to, the same month I'm going to Spain for La Tomatina. I'll work it out.
I am now wrapping up my rest and recovery from last week's CIM. Ready to hit the road again.
Gotta run.
Sunday, 14 December 2008
Monday, 8 December 2008
A QUESTION OF PAIN
Earlier this year I had the opportunity to spend a whole day in running class with Jeff Galloway, without whom I'd not be a runner today.During that event I learned a number of things. Primarily, that rest is just as important to one's training regimen, if not more so, than the time you actually spend running. Secondarily, finishing time is not important unless you're hoping to win your event. (I know, I was just celebrating my sub-5 marathon finish just yesterday. I can not always adequately explain myself. Oh, well.) Thirdly, Accelerade rocks, before, during and after long runs. It provides much-needed energy stores prior to a marathon, quickly accessible calories during a run, AND...aids in post-long-run recovery. It is the last of these that I am interested in here.
After hearing of Accelerade's restorative powers back in the summer, I followed Galloway's advice and indulged in 12 ounces of the stuff immediately after a 20 miler. Not surprisingly, I honestly felt good enough to run again the next day. Pretty sure it was the sports drink.
Right now I'm still in pain from Sunday's CIM...but I'm in no hurry to guzzle another batch of Mountain Blueberry...as I kind of WANT to experience the pain that I earned running 26.2 miles, at least for another day or so. I guess I sort of consider those aches and burns, and the trouble my thighs have going up or down stairs, a badge of honor, of sorts.
I'm wondering if Accelerade, or any other recovery method, makes it easier to do the work that going the distance requires, will I lose my respect for the distance? I'm thinking, maybe so.
Was a time, not too many years ago, that running three miles was major. (For those of you for whom that is still true, I honor your place. Enjoy, the hard three's, five's and ten's. Learn from them.) Now I can roll out of bed and do 10-15 practically any day of the week. The challenges change over time, and I don't want marathon running to become pedestrian. Thinking that if it becomes too easy to recover from it, it may not offer the same value.
Not ready to take that chance...yet. No post-marathon Accelerade for me just yet, thanks. Sick, or what?
Gotta run!
PR SHATTERED!
After the first time I ran the California International Marathon, in 2004, I swore I'd never run it again. This weekend did a 180.
In 2004 it was ridiculously cold as we gathered at the Folsom Dam start, and I had no gloves. That would prove to taint the whole experience, as my hands never thawed. I seem to remember Fair Oaks Boulevard being industrial strength boring. And, at mile 17 that day, my right knee decided it wanted nothing more to do with this whole running a marathon thing. It agreed to go along if only I would walk. I walked the last 9.
This weekend could not have been more different.
My brother got up early and took me to the start, with the obligitory Starbucks stop along the way. Thick fog shrouded the area, that was quickly filling with 10,000 runners. I fully expected to throw up the coffee I'd just inhaled, as I usually do right before a race. Didn't happen. Hit the portapotties a couple of times, and then lined up to run.
Almost immediately I hooked up with a couple of runners of similar years, one a marathon virgin, the other, Scott -the-lawyer-from-Cleveland who's hated his job for thirty years. The first guy didn't stay with us long, but the barrister and I ran and chatted together for about 12 miles. He then said he was pretty much done, running-wise. I gave him one of my two English Mars bars (my secret energy weapon), told him he couldn't have it until mile 17, said cheerio" and struck out on my own.
Nothing much really happened the rest of the way, other than, for the first time in 21 marathons, I was able to stick with my Jeff Galloway method 5:1 run/walk pace all the way to the end. I ususally toss all that out somewhere between 17 and 20. Not sure where this batch of resolve came from, but it's welcome anytime.
The only down part of the race was as I approached mile 21, I started to sense the onset of a migraine, which I only get when I am really, really tired. Remembered that a migraine means the blood vessels in the brain are constricted and can't get enough blood through the affected area. I hadn't brought my migraine meds, although I'd thought about doing so as I got ready earlier, but forgot to follow through. Decided to experiment, by stepping up my pace to see if the old ticker would push a bit more blood to where it was needed, and maybe fend off the looming headache. For about a mile and a half my vision was blurred, and I could barely see the road. Good thing it was wide and closed to traffic. The experiment apparently worked, as my vision cleared a few minutes later, and I cruised the rest of the way in.
I have wanted to break the 5 hour mark for years, but had recently come to the realization that that was probably never going to happen at my age (56). Have taken on board, sort of, Jeff Galloway's and John Bingham's admonishments to just let go of the time limit thing. But I'll admit breaking that barrier was something I still really wanted to do.
As I crossed the 26 mile marker I noticed my Garmin showed I'd actually run a little more than that, so I carefully watched it tick up to 26.2...then hit the stop. I couldn't believe that my total time was 4:56. Un-freakin' real. Kept going and crossed the official finish line, even though I'd actually finished my marathon about half a block earlier. My brother, his wife, and their boys were there to welcome me in, which was awesome.
So, even though I'm officially done putting finishing time limits on myself, I quickly realized with a 4:56 on record, I am now just 26 minutes away from being able to run my dream marathon, San Sebasitan in Spain. They have a strict 4:30 course limit. I'm just saying.
Next up it's Carlsbad Marathon at the end of next month.
Gotta run!
In 2004 it was ridiculously cold as we gathered at the Folsom Dam start, and I had no gloves. That would prove to taint the whole experience, as my hands never thawed. I seem to remember Fair Oaks Boulevard being industrial strength boring. And, at mile 17 that day, my right knee decided it wanted nothing more to do with this whole running a marathon thing. It agreed to go along if only I would walk. I walked the last 9.
This weekend could not have been more different.
My brother got up early and took me to the start, with the obligitory Starbucks stop along the way. Thick fog shrouded the area, that was quickly filling with 10,000 runners. I fully expected to throw up the coffee I'd just inhaled, as I usually do right before a race. Didn't happen. Hit the portapotties a couple of times, and then lined up to run.
Almost immediately I hooked up with a couple of runners of similar years, one a marathon virgin, the other, Scott -the-lawyer-from-Cleveland who's hated his job for thirty years. The first guy didn't stay with us long, but the barrister and I ran and chatted together for about 12 miles. He then said he was pretty much done, running-wise. I gave him one of my two English Mars bars (my secret energy weapon), told him he couldn't have it until mile 17, said cheerio" and struck out on my own.
Nothing much really happened the rest of the way, other than, for the first time in 21 marathons, I was able to stick with my Jeff Galloway method 5:1 run/walk pace all the way to the end. I ususally toss all that out somewhere between 17 and 20. Not sure where this batch of resolve came from, but it's welcome anytime.
The only down part of the race was as I approached mile 21, I started to sense the onset of a migraine, which I only get when I am really, really tired. Remembered that a migraine means the blood vessels in the brain are constricted and can't get enough blood through the affected area. I hadn't brought my migraine meds, although I'd thought about doing so as I got ready earlier, but forgot to follow through. Decided to experiment, by stepping up my pace to see if the old ticker would push a bit more blood to where it was needed, and maybe fend off the looming headache. For about a mile and a half my vision was blurred, and I could barely see the road. Good thing it was wide and closed to traffic. The experiment apparently worked, as my vision cleared a few minutes later, and I cruised the rest of the way in.
I have wanted to break the 5 hour mark for years, but had recently come to the realization that that was probably never going to happen at my age (56). Have taken on board, sort of, Jeff Galloway's and John Bingham's admonishments to just let go of the time limit thing. But I'll admit breaking that barrier was something I still really wanted to do.
As I crossed the 26 mile marker I noticed my Garmin showed I'd actually run a little more than that, so I carefully watched it tick up to 26.2...then hit the stop. I couldn't believe that my total time was 4:56. Un-freakin' real. Kept going and crossed the official finish line, even though I'd actually finished my marathon about half a block earlier. My brother, his wife, and their boys were there to welcome me in, which was awesome.
So, even though I'm officially done putting finishing time limits on myself, I quickly realized with a 4:56 on record, I am now just 26 minutes away from being able to run my dream marathon, San Sebasitan in Spain. They have a strict 4:30 course limit. I'm just saying.
Next up it's Carlsbad Marathon at the end of next month.
Gotta run!
Tuesday, 2 December 2008
NOT SURE IT'S NORMAL...
...but it might be.
Have realized over the past couple of days that I am not anxious at all about this Sunday's California International Marathon in Sacramento. It's the first of an anticipated dozen marathons in as many months, and the 21st since turning 50, six years ago.
I will admit there are a number of things I don't know about what will happen this weekend...and, indeed, once a month for the next year. I don't know if I'll finish any one of the races I'll start. I don't really know if I'll even be able to start them all. I could get hurt any day, any hour, any minute. Some part of my 56 year old body could implode during any one of the races I do manage to start. In other words, the whole thing's a crapshoot.
Among the things I DO know. Every race I do manage to start will hurt. But, as "they" say....it's a good hurt. Miles 0-13 will probably be fairly easy. I can do that distance almost any day. For that, I am grateful. From 13 on, it's anyone's guess. Depends upon the day. At every 17th mile I will inhale an imported Mars bar...my favourite candy since my childhood in Peterborough, England. I maybe even do two!
At mile 20 I will wonder why I keep doing this and, hopefully, keep going. Somewhere around mile 24 I'll seriously consider quitting, but, if all goes as planned, won't.
As I catch my first glimpse of the bright colours that usually indicate the finish line, I'll try to summon up that often-elusive "second wind", and somehow stumble, while pretending to be in better shape than I really am, for the photo-guys, through the arch. Shortly thereafter I will ask, where to next?
For those of you who are a little wobbly about how you may handle your first, second, tenth, or 30th marathon...where ever it may be....let me say I honor your trepidation. It is well-founded. 26.2 is an awesome distance, and something you'll be proud to have pounded out...after it's over. I honestly feel almost anyone who's in even relatively decent shape can "do" the marathon. The fact that YOU decided to take it on is the amazing thing. So few people do.
Have realized over the past couple of days that I am not anxious at all about this Sunday's California International Marathon in Sacramento. It's the first of an anticipated dozen marathons in as many months, and the 21st since turning 50, six years ago.
I will admit there are a number of things I don't know about what will happen this weekend...and, indeed, once a month for the next year. I don't know if I'll finish any one of the races I'll start. I don't really know if I'll even be able to start them all. I could get hurt any day, any hour, any minute. Some part of my 56 year old body could implode during any one of the races I do manage to start. In other words, the whole thing's a crapshoot.
Among the things I DO know. Every race I do manage to start will hurt. But, as "they" say....it's a good hurt. Miles 0-13 will probably be fairly easy. I can do that distance almost any day. For that, I am grateful. From 13 on, it's anyone's guess. Depends upon the day. At every 17th mile I will inhale an imported Mars bar...my favourite candy since my childhood in Peterborough, England. I maybe even do two!
At mile 20 I will wonder why I keep doing this and, hopefully, keep going. Somewhere around mile 24 I'll seriously consider quitting, but, if all goes as planned, won't.
As I catch my first glimpse of the bright colours that usually indicate the finish line, I'll try to summon up that often-elusive "second wind", and somehow stumble, while pretending to be in better shape than I really am, for the photo-guys, through the arch. Shortly thereafter I will ask, where to next?
For those of you who are a little wobbly about how you may handle your first, second, tenth, or 30th marathon...where ever it may be....let me say I honor your trepidation. It is well-founded. 26.2 is an awesome distance, and something you'll be proud to have pounded out...after it's over. I honestly feel almost anyone who's in even relatively decent shape can "do" the marathon. The fact that YOU decided to take it on is the amazing thing. So few people do.
Thursday, 27 November 2008
GOBBLE, GOBBLE
Another day of cross-training on the bike. Just because it's Thanksgiving doesn't mean it's a holiday. There's a 12in12 regimen to maintain.
Headed out at about 8am, while much of the immediate area was still socked-in with fog. Rolled through Oakland, on my annual turkey day search for a decent cup of coffee. Found it at an old standard, Hudson Bay Cafe on College Avenue. Crazy busy, but a pleasant break nonetheless.
Headed out at about 8am, while much of the immediate area was still socked-in with fog. Rolled through Oakland, on my annual turkey day search for a decent cup of coffee. Found it at an old standard, Hudson Bay Cafe on College Avenue. Crazy busy, but a pleasant break nonetheless.
Next up, a single Lake Merritt loop, then downtown Oakland to Jack London Square. One of my favourite places to just chill, watch people, and look at the really big boats.
On the way out of Jack London Square something caught my eye in the Ben and Jerry's window. HOT FLOATS! Shut up!
Steamed flavoured milk with a scoop of your favourite ice cream. This place is looking for an assistant manager. I'm wondering, if I took the job, how many of those hot floats I could have before they let me go?
Turning south, along Oakland's version of the Embarcadero, I discovered how to get to the lovely island city of Alameda, without having to go through the Posey Tube. However, didn't have time to go any farther AWAY from home, so turned around and headed back.
Surprise of surprises, a photographer's dream. The 5th Street Pier. To think I almost blew it off and kept riding. Instead, I spent a few minutes here, taking pictures of old motorcycles with baby dolls attached to the handlebars, old trucks, and even older cars.
Just a couple of blocks farther north, one of life's myths was shattered. I've heard that money won't buy love. Apparently that is NOT so.
The rest of the trip home was uneventful, taking in the Emeryville/Berkeley shoreline.
My Garmin tells me I burned more than 3700 calories on my 30 mile ride. I'm thinking that translates into permission to have two helpings of stuffing later tonight.
Sunday, 23 November 2008
HOLDING PATTERN
With the California International Marathon a fortnight off, I decided today to run just 10 miles...then didn't.Early in the morning I realized I was having too much fun doing nothing, workout/training-wise, and thought I'd give it a go for the whole day. I got caught up on a bunch of things I've been putting off for weeks.
Finally repaired the flat tire I had a couple of weeks ago when I tried a bit of bicycle cross-training (see "Cross-Straining" post). That was the road bike. On my touring bike I changed tires to the winter variety, re-installed fenders and a brand new XTR rear derailleur, and put the drop bars back on. A month or so ago I took them off to try out a set of upright bars that turned out to be nothing but rubbish. While doing that I stripped a stem faceplate bolt and and to go buy a new one. Very happy to have both machines back on line and fully accessible. Seriously considered a 20 mile ride...but decided against that. Instead, I gave my new motorcycle its first bath. Did not get any soap in its eyes, thankfully.
After that I remembered something I've wanted to do for months, namely donate all my half marathon finisher medals to an organization called Medals4Mettle. They give them to kids who are battling diseases that could take their young lives. Recently saw a video featuring a kid with cancer who could not have been more stoked to have his NYC Marathon medal. A pile of mine are on the way there. Check it out, if you've got some you'd like to share.
Then I uncorked a bottle of cheap red wine, tuned into BBC Radio 2 (online), my official favourite radio station in the world...and listened to a documentary about the 40th anniversary of the Beatles' White Album. Totally AWESOME! You can check that out, too, if you're of such a mind.
I shall run tomorrow morning. Really.
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
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