Try Everything...No, Try Nothing...What To Do

"Training is the hard part to enjoy the fun part, whatever your sport is" - Mohammed Ali

Close to where I live, there is a Cross-Fit Gym. I have never stepped inside it, nor do I know exactly what they do. In my mind, it's a great money making idea on the concept that you get fit by pushing heavy things. Most gyms have you pushing their several thousand dollar machines, but at Cross-Fit somebody saw Rocky pulling a sled filled with rocks through the snow training to fight the Russian Fighting machine, Ivan Drago, and said "Hey, I'll bet I can get some guys to lift a tire, or move a railroad tie, or drag a giant chain and get them to pay ME!". Don't you love America. Actually, being a Physical Therapist, I actually love the concept. You make a muscle work against a resistance and it will respond to the weight, not the appearance of the weight. When I teach my patients exercises in the clinic, they say "I'll have to go WalMart and buy a 2# weight". I quickly inform them that you fill a half-gallon jug halfway and you have a 2# weight. Fill it all the way, and Voila!, you have a 4# weight. So, why not lift a tire instead of a shiny chrome-plated dumbbell? 

So, anyway, I'm driving to work yesterday a little ways past the gym, and I see this poor guy running in the grocery store parking lot with a (probably) 8-10# kettle ball being held to his upper shoulder. He would take 15 or so steps and then switch to the other side. I'll give him this, despite obviously not enjoying his punishment exercise, he was persevering. The light changed and I had to get going, but I wondered what possible advantage running like this would accomplish. Yeah, sure, I get the weight thing, but his body mechanics were so shot to hell, he: #1) would soon be injured, and #2) never be able to do this long enough to gain any possible positive training effect. But, some trainer told him to do this, and off he went hoping to improve towards his fitness goal.

So, this is not CROSSFITWITHAL, it's RUNNINGWITHAL, so where am I going with this? Well, it doesn't matter how you get your training advice, you have to admit there is ton of it out there. We have well qualified trainers and coaches, books, videos, and of course the always present magazines, like Runner's World. I'm not picking on RW...I've been a reader since I began running over 30 years ago...but, you have to admit their advice does seem to bounce around like a ping-pong ball. Sure, the pendulum of training does swing, but their pendulum can swing from month to month! If you use their advice exclusively, you'll be so confused, you won't know whether to run left-right or right-left. Some coaching guidance is just terrible. But there are pillars of light in the dark (locally, like Danny Haralson), providing sound advice when you need it.But, have you ever noticed that some runners know exactly what to do, but others seem constantly lost? Every runner faces overwhelming information overload when it comes to planning their training or treating an injury. There’s an endless amount of advice out there.

Unfortunately, it can be really difficult to know what to do when you're treating an injury yourself, or trying to implement a self-designed training plan to improve your running. So many runners do nothing specifically– they fall prey to paralysis by analysis. They get stuck in a vicious cycle of dealing with constant little injuries, not knowing whether to run, lift, or rest, or being terrified of changing their status quo, which ain't working either.

Even worse, some runners tackle an injury or their training with a haphazard and uncoordinated plan that’s like the shotgun approach –  try as much as possible and see what sticks. There’s no progression. There’s no consistency. There’s no system. They try everything. They try nothing. Every runner WANTS to reach their goals, but obviously “figuring it out” doesn’t work if you have no plan. Every one of my patients WANTS to get better, but without a plan (and a simple one so they follow the plan), their approach of sitting on the couch waiting to get better probably won't work. Runners are WAY more disciplined than most of my patients, but the shotgun approach to training or injury treatment...sampling random workouts, exercises, rehab treatments, and routines to see what works...usually won't get the job done. Inevitably, nothing will work if there’s no plan.

If you have a training or rehab goal, the truth is that random workouts don’t work. Successful runners all use systems to achieve their goals. Sampling is great for appetizers at a party, but it doesn’t work with running. Sure, if you're just running for fitness, or if you're in a cycle of your training where cutting back is the best thing, then that's where you need to be, but if it's improvement you're searching for, have one or two key workouts each week that you don't shy away from. 

Beginner runners who don’t know how to train for a race do all kinds of wacky things with their training. They will soak up any verbal, written, or social media advice they can get their hands on. And, not knowing any better, they will mix them all together figuring they're all good so the body will figure it out. Beer, spaghetti sauce, and chocolate ice cream are all good, but I doubt mixed together they would make a tasty treat. A few months using this appraoch will yield either injury, or if you're lucky, no improvement in your fitness level.

The body improves when you train consistently or rehab consistently. You stress it repeatedly at an acceptable level...it adapts...you improve. It's that simple. When your training bounces all over the place  you don't give your confused body a chance to adapt. A plan doesn’t ask anything ridiculous of you, just to do the work so you can adapt and improve.

Even more common are those runners who get injured and don’t know how to get healthy. They’ll take 1-2 weeks off right away and won’t do any rehabilitative exercises during those recovery weeks. Then they’ll “get serious” and start icing every other day and using a foam roller a few times per week. Next is the cross-training cycle: they’ll sign up for a Body Pump class at the gym to “get a strong core” and use the elliptical when there’s time. Then they'll do some exercise they saw on the internet, but never know if they’re doing anything to help, but give up after a week 'cause they still hurt. Finally, they say "the heck with it" and run with the injury and things go further south from there.  

We Love Options. But the problem with options is that we end up doing too much. We try a fitness class. We muddle around in the weight room or use a stationary bike for 20 minutes. We try everything – but in effect we’ve tried nothing. There’s no progress, no fitness gains, and no lasting result. It’s that Stress-Adaptation principle, applied hundreds and thousands of times, that makes runners faster.

Sometimes that process can be repetitive. All good training is a little bit boring – the macro elements of mileage and workouts are repeated over and over again. If I want to improve my trail running so I can drag my butt around the trails in a race, I better get my butt off the flat roads and onto the trails to train.
With your training, always have somewhere to go.That somewhere to go is your goal. Ask some of the veterans you run with what has worked for them in the past. I'll bet they have certain key workouts that they won't stray from. I've often said "Don't learn the recipe, learn the technique". Stick with something you enjoy doing and ask yourself "Does it have a purpose". Don't use the Try Everything, Try Nothing Approach!

But, please, even if it seems like a good idea, don't put a 10# kettle ball on your shoulder and go for your run. I just don't think that's the ticket to a faster time (except in the local Kettle Ball Carrying 10k).

I'll see you all on the roads - AL

"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world" 

Twists and Turns On the Trail

"There are 3 types of people in this world, those who can count, and those that can't"- unknown

10 miles at about a 14 min. pace on a VERY tough trail course in the heat of Birmingham. Then add another 6 on the hilly roads around Oak Mountain. Swiggin' water. Eatin' gel. Ankles generally behaving. I'm gettin' there. 

While I was doing my long run this morning, about half on trails I'd never traversed before, I realized that as bad as my legs were screaming at me for going up this 20%, rocky grade, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Slowly, I seem to be coming back. If I don't stupidly trip over a dang root or cream my toe against an immovable rock, my ankles seem to be doing ok. It's funny, because yesterday was a hard day just to walk around work. I didn't run in the morning, but the way my puppies were barking, you'd think I had snuck in a clandestine don't-tell-anybody-about-it-run. This has been pretty much the pattern for past several months - non-predictable! 

So, as I continue to to run the Southeastern Trail Run Series, I keep figuring out that if my ankles are operating at 50% and if I'm 50% in shape, then that adds up to 100% and I'm way good to go. Hey, I've been doing this for a long time, so I know how this rationalization thing goes. In about 7 weeks, I've got the 4th of 7 scheduled races (I missed one due to being out of town playing with my grandkids) in the series (plus a couple of outlier trail races also planned). This next race will be the Hotter 'n' Hell Trail Run, a tough, rocky, hilly 18 miler at Oak Mountain. Most races of the Series consist of two loops of the same course, so you either do the short series (one loop) or the long series (I'll let you guess). Although I've been running OM for well over 20 years, new trails are continually being built and David Tosch, the RD, has discovered some new ones. Actually, I don't think he finds new trails as much as just rolls a beer keg from the top of a steep hill down to the bottom and it's course "will make a cool trail for the race". 

I wanted to run at least one loop this morning, so I read the course description yesterday and in between laughing, I decided to write the twists and turns down (looking at most maps is useless to me on the trail because I wear glasses, but not while running, so a trail map just looks like a picture of a wormbed with MAYBE some words that other eyes can read). With my trusty sidekick, Moha, we made it through the familiar first 4 miles, but things then got steep, interesting, and most of all, confusing. It's funny that we would be completely lost as to where EXACTLY we were at times on these new trails, and yet I would have momentary flashes of something familiar. It was like trying to decipher a dream, or figure out a mystery novel. Some pieces fit together. Some not so much. 

I won't go into a step-by-step account of this run, but most of it was stop-and-go trying to complete our run that was more of a clue finding scavenger hunt. At one point on top of the ridge, we didn't know whether to turn right or left on the Red Trail, so while looking at my written directions, I hear a voice through the fog saying "That won't help you". It was David, the RD for the SE Trail Series. He was practically the only other trail runner we saw this morning! Anyway, after asking him which way to go, he kinda rubbed his chin and said, "Now which race is this?". Geez, David, it's YOUR race! He assured us that despite what the directions said, he didn't really count what we were on as the Red Trail (despite the red markings on the trees!), but a short extension of the Green Trail...hope he has markers during the race. He gave us some convoluted verbal guidance and was on his way. We made our way down the mountain to the Treetop Trail and once again we had to make an intelligent right/left decision and once again, we guessed wrong and added about a mile to our journey. It's just a given that Moha and I will get lost at least once on a trail. That's why I usually wear a bright shirt out there - so the rescue helicopter can spot us more easily. I'm sure in the future, some GPS watches will emit an LED orange stripe to follow on the trail from the course that you plotted into the watch, but we're not there yet. As a matter of fact, as an aside, my current joke GPS  watch, the Nike+, had ANOTHER mishap. This time, the USB plugin just snapped off the watch strap, rendering the data transfer unusable. So, now I'm waiting for ANOTHER replacement. This will be my 4th Nike+. Why do I keep going back to the same frustration? Because it's replaced free if it's under warranty and at this rate, I'll have a new watch every 6 months! Consequently, I'm running with watch that only gives time, which to me is like running half-naked!

Ok, we made it back to the parking lot and Moha decided he had to run a few more miles as he's getting ready for the Tupelo Marathon, so rather than leave him to bake on the roads alone, I was forced decided to run another 6 miles with him. Other than running out of water, tripping over an imaginary rock, and having to go through a locked gate, this part of the run was pretty uneventful. 

So, I'm 16 miles closer to where my running will eventually take me. Sometimes, I just don't know what the heck to write in this blog, so I just put it on autopilot, and life comes out. Non-running folks may think running is boring, so I say to them, "Take a run with me in the woods". Guaranteed, it'll be entertaining. 

I'll see you all on the roads or trails - AL    

"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world" 

Happy National Trail Day

"Let's be careful out there" - Hill Street Blues

I must say, I am so glad we have finally dumped the cold weather I can hardly contain myself. Up until about 2-3 weeks ago, I thought we might just go straight from mid-spring to mid-fall and forget summer altogether. My morning runs were still met with temps in the 40's in mid-May. That's ridiculous. As the morning temps increased my running seemed to improve with it and all seemed right with the world. But, this is Alabama and the sun likes to aim it's rays through the magnifying glass that hovers over our state and pretty soon, the high 90's and low 100's will be routine and most (not me) will pine for the cool fall days ahead.

However, going from coolness to heatness (?) does take some gettin' used to. This morning, I met Moha at Red Mt. for a 10-12 mile trail run. Now, during the winter, one handheld bottle was adequate for our 2 1/2 hour run. However, by 6 o'clock, the sun is already risen and the temp was pushing 80, as was the humidity. I usually like to start earlier, but I may as well ask the sun to rise later than to get him to get up earlier. He was on time this morning, but in the past, I've had some pretty good naps at the trailhead waiting for him to show up!

So off we headed. Now, Oak Mt I know like the back of my hand (ok, I don't know the back of my hand that well, but it's a saying that gets the point across), but Red Mt is a mental challenge to me. I just can't seem to memorize the connectors between the major trails and thus get myself turned all around. I get lost EVERY time I run these trails. Fortunately, RM is a relatively small park, so it just becomes an effort of putting in a few extra miles and not having to call Search & Rescue. So, this morning, we hadn't even run 45 minutes before we wound up (unintentionally) where we had begun. Except now, there were some young women setting up a table with aid station looking stuff. I asked what was going on and she said today was National Trail Day...who knew?...and there was going to be Boy Scouts and other folks coming to join in the frivolity of NTD. It was like a warm weather Festivus (Seinfeld reference). 

So, after a quick glance at the map, off we went again to conquer these trails. As I said, the heat and humidity was different today and after a couple more miles, we realized we were soaked with sweat and our water bottles were nearly dry, so we made a decision to make it back to "National Trail Day" headquarters. We got there and asked if we could have some water. A young coed asked "Are you taking part in our Trail Day?". I said "It looks like we already have"...."well then, you can sign in here with your email and address". So figuring a little more spam in my inbox was worth filling my bottle, I signed. Once again (remember "Groundhog Day") we left for the THIRD time from the same spot and disappeared into the woods. We decided...ok, I decided...to take the trail that traverses across the whole south side of the mountain. It's clearly marked with "Most difficult trail" markers. I had to convince Moha that "Most difficult" was American slang for
 "Short cut". I doubt he fell for that line. Several miles later, going up a long, steep grade, with my calves revolting, I drained my water bottle for the 2nd time and said "You know Mo, if that aid station with water hadn't been there, we'd be sunk". His response: "No, we'd be f**ked". His description, though cruder, was probably a lot more accurate.

Slowly, we made our way back to the finish and coming up to the table, one of the volunteers said "Have you two been out there all this time? How far did you go?". When I told her about 11 miles, we were stars. Gatorade for everybody!! Yes, they say God provides. If today hadn't been National Trail Day, we definitely would have been...well, lets say sunk. Hopefully we learned our lesson about running in the mugginess of summer (for the 30+ year in a row!) and next time we will strap on more water or stash some someplace. At Red Mountain, there is no place to refill our bottles. At least, that is, until next National Trail Day. To paraphrase that guy for Dos Equis beer "we will stay thirsty, my friends". 

I'll see you all on the hot roads or the muggy trails - AL

"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world" 

In Boston - Grandkids and Marathon Finish Lines

"These are the days, these are the days you'll remember, never before and never since I promise, will the whole world be as warm as this" - Natalie Merchant, These are the Days

Still learning this grandpa thing

So, here I am again in Boston doing my bimonthly trip to see my family. Adam and Emma are growing WAY too fast. Consequently, their energy levels are through the roof. When they are awake, it is constant energy, enough of which could solve all the energy needs of the world if we could harness it. Ah yes, to harness it...that would be nice...at least sometimes. From 6:45am until double nap time around 1:30, it's a virtual whirlwind of running, games, reading, diaper changing , and lifting. Emma is not that heavy, but at 3.5 years old, Adam is getting up there. Oh, what am I whining about? There are enough of you mothers that read this blog that are saying "Oh, quit your bellyaching and zip your mansuit on".

It's not just the physical angle of this grandpa thing either. The emotional rollercoaster of a toddler is all it's cranked up to be. Holy Crow! At one point during this weekend I said to my wife "I feel like I'm constantly on the edge of doing something wrong", something that will tip the emotional seesaw the other way and we have a short lived volcanic outburst that shakes the leaves off the trees. Oh, it's not just me, the spark can be anyone, including his parents. But the the instigator, the true spark to much of this, is his sweet 18 month old sister. Emma is the constant nudge that fans the flame. She has to be where her brother is, doing what her brother is doing, and wants whatever he has, only because he's there, doing this, or having that! Despite outbursts that register on the Richter Scale, Adam shows incredible restraint not to just show the girl who is in charge.

But, despite all of that mularchy above, learning to be a grandpa is quite the joy. Oh yeah, four days wears me out, but for every valley there are two hills with "I love you's" or hugs or "Will you read me a story?". Take your grandkids for ice cream and see what doors that opens. Peanut Butter Oreo Ice Cream makes Grandpa a hero. I don't understand how parents do this everyday with multiple children, because kids are kids. Maybe they do it just out of pure unconditional love, and kids being kids is part of the deal you knew going in. Or maybe you just learn along the way, the same for the kids, the same for the grandparents. We've all been doing it forever... Nothing new here...just keep movin' on.

Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston

As I usually do when visiting Beantown, I go running along the Boston Marathon course. This year, the course was basically the same, but the pulse of the run was much different. I was last here a week before the marathon in April and wondered if the feeling would be changed running the last few miles from Brookline to the finish line. Yes it was. From the moment I stepped onto the course, my main thought was that of the runners at this point in the run...legs carrying on but not crazy about it...lungs inhaling as much oxygen as they can muster to keep the fire burning...and the mind, ah yes, the mind trying every trick in the book to get you to ease off. These runners at this point cannot in their most nightmarish thoughts ever dreamed up what lies 3 miles down the road. As I climb "Mt Kenmore", this is where many runners start hearing that something has happened up ahead. I cross under the famous Citgo sign (one mile to go) and then approach the Massachusetts Avenue tunnel. This just about my favorite part of the race, but today I recall a picture I have on my screensaver at my office of thousands of hopeful finishers at a dead stop here...their race over...their questions unanswered. A right on Hereford, a left on Boylston, and I feel my emotions welling up. Just a month ago, it was here that hell literally was on earth. I pass the spot where the second bomb had gone off. There are crocheted blue and yellow hearts on the lightpoles. I see a couple of shirts and beads wrapped around a parking meter and I know this is the exact spot! I keep running towards the finish line around tourists and other runners almost feeling guilty about wanting to see this. When I come to the finish line, I stop. Here is Marathon Sports where the first bomb exploded. Along the front window sill are about 20 votive candles, unlit due to the wind, but their meaning so powerful. I say a silent short prayer and back off out of the way of the sidewalk pedestrians. I lean against a mailbox. After a few seconds, I realize this is the same mailbox that we all have seen countless times on the newscasts. This is the spot where the bag with the first bomb was put down. This is where loved ones cheered for an instant before their lives were ended or changed forever. I felt the cold chill. I shouldn't be here. But I am a runner. I have run Boston 5 times. I have family in Boston. Maybe I should be here. I'll say this - it made it seem very much more real than it has to me thus far. I retraced my steps back home...straight on Boylston, right on Hereford, left on Commonwealth, one step at a time. Be careful out there. 

I'll see you all on the roads - AL

"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"

Which One is Different?

"Life is a marathon. But if you smoke, eat wrong foods, or don't buckle up, and so forth, you may turn life into a 10k" - Hal Higdon

The other day, I opened a pack of electrode pads (remember I'm a Physical Therapist) and only 3 of the 4 pads had an electrode wire coming from it. So when Cliff, my good running friend from Atlanta AND the supplier of most of my clinic supplies, came by, I wanted to show him this blatant example of poor quality control. I pulled out the defective pack and I asked him "Cliff, here's a riddle. Which electrode is different?". Without blinking an eye, Cliff says "I see 3 that are different!". Great answer. How does this tie-in to running? I dunno, but it's funny. Actually, it does tie-in. 

Tell a non-running anyone that you’re doing an ultramarathon, or even a marathon,  and watch the expression on their face. They almost can’t believe it. Actually they just can’t understand it. “How far is that marathon?” they ask. "No, I'm not doing one of those 5 mile marathons". Even when you tell them what you're up to, they have no comprehension how far 26.2 miles or 50 kilometers or 50 miles really is. Sometimes I tell them by relating it to a distance they would understand — “It’s from here Alabaster and back, or it's from here to the Georgia border or it's from here to Hobnob by way of Jackson Gap"...remember, I live in Alabama. They still don’t get it. The physical task is, simply put, impossible for them to really understand.

But then you go to your particular race and you’re somehow feeling, well, “average.” When you're around non-runners or runners that don't have a need to see how far they can go, it's hard to not have a certain feel that you have something in this running mentality that they don't. Not better, not superior, not suddenly "all-knowing", but it's just a more of a "I've been somewhere that I can't explain to you" feeling. 

Anyway, you go to your race, and you look around at 100's of folks standing around the starting line and you start to think maybe this ain’t such a big deal afterall. The small fish (me) in a small pond becomes a smaller fish in a bigger pond. It’s not like I'm going to win or even came close. In fact, the winners are going to finish the race before I probably got to the halfway point. You hear others talking at the race...this is my 50th marathon, or this is my 10th ultra this year, or they're setting new PR's left and right. They expound about how many miles they're putting in, or how many "vertical feet" they incorporated into their training lately. I'm pushing 66 years old, and feel that's pretty good to just be out here, but now there's lots of these guys older than me running a lot faster (the fish just got smaller). It’s common place. The "wow" factor I produce at work is certainly missing when I'm surrounded by my running peers. Don't get me wrong, this is not a bad thing. Runners of ALL abilities are consistently the best collection of guys and gals you want to be surrounded by. But when you're around folks doing what you do, well, then what you do is no big deal.

Whenever I go to race, I have this very feeling. Although I'm doing what most consider impossible, or at least extremely difficult, when I line up before the obligatory "Go", I am feeling quite average. How can this be? Because my world shrinks when I'm around other long distance runners.

I think our own comprehension of what we do is shaped by our own experience, while the person hearing about your tale of perceived physical world domination can’t comprehend the task, because they have no experience with which to understand it. Their long distance is parking a little further from the WalMart front door. And our experience leads us to form an opinion based on all that we’ve done. In other words, we have a basis to compare against while others don’t.

Deep inside, or often superficially, we are competitive creatures. That’s a lot of why we participate in these crazy marathons and ultras to begin with. For most of us, including me, that competition is usually with yourself...can I be competitive - NO. Can I be competitive in my age group where there MIGHT be 3 competitors - MAYBE. Can I keep from falling less times than I did in my last race - PROBABLY. I guess my "competitive drive" shapes my impression of how I feel about my endeavors. The self-talk during a race quickly goes from “I am just trying to finish” in the late stages, and then 10 minutes after you cross the finish line - “I could have gone faster if only I had (fill in the blank)”. We never think what we are doing is impossible. We get it. We can do this. We've done it. We just want to do it better, or in my case, at least do it respectively.   This inner self-talk takes us from thinking that what we’re doing is impossible to thinking that we could do it better the next time. Any way you boil it down, it's just running and we need to put the pieces we know in the right order to get it right. Sometimes it works and sometimes it fails miserably. You don't always hit that sweet spot in any sport.

Our bar for comparison is all relative. Away from my running peers, I'm doing something that's pretty far out there. I'm judged anywhere from Superman to crazy as a loon. Around my running buddies, I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary at all. I'm considered strange because my beer choice is an English Brown Ale instead of an IPA, not because I run from here to WAY over there. Maybe that's why runners hang around runners, or any other group hangs around folks that do the same thing they do...as a group, you all get it, no need to explain, no quizzical looks, just "normal", "average", "ordinary". Ain't so bad, is it?

I'll see you all on the roads - AL

"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world" 

Still Running and Still Learning

"I'll be happy if running and I can grow old together" - Haruki Murakami


I've often said that I'm not one for writing or reading race reports. It is just so very difficult to transcend the feeling of the writer/runner to the reader...yada, yada, heavy legs, yada, yada, uphill, yada, yada, sun going down...and so on. Let's face it, MOST race reports are extremely important to the writer, but they are pretty boring to read all the way through, so I won't start here. But, last weekend, I ran the Run4Kids 50k at Oak Mountain in miserable conditions. Those of you that read my blog regularly might remember (yeah, right!) that it was this race last year that I re-entered the ultra scene after a 6 year hiatus due to rusty ankles (If for some reason you want to read that post, here it is). The ankles are still rusty, but in the past 12 months, I have managed to run finish 3 50k's, one tough trail marathon, and a road marathon. 

Last Saturday, after a dark and stormy night, I woke up to a torrential downpour and thought "this is the type of Saturday morning I dream about" - where I can just pull the covers up and not feel guilty at all about not going out for my usual Saturday 2-3 hour run. But instead, I headed out to OM to spend 8+ hours in 3 hours of hard rain, sometimes ankle deep mud, and lots of slipping and sliding. Surprisingly, I only had one fall, and that was within 50 feet of the aid station for all to see...Great! Overall, I was pretty pleased with the result as I am these days with any finish before everybody goes home. No injuries and the ankles survived to be able to walk, although the next day was interesting - I thought while shopping I might have to get one of those Granny Carts to ride around in. Instead, I treated it like an ultra race itself, rationed my energy, and made the dairy aisle my line in the sand where I knew I would finish. Going through the checkout was the last aid station, and my car was the finish line. Yes, Walter Mitty was one of my favorite stories growing up! 

Although I've been running these races for about a hundred years, I'm still learning things along the way. Here's a couple of thoughts I came away with (at least ones I remember a week later):

Check your shoes - I've been running in Hokas for about 3 years now and am convinced they have saved my running. I usually have one pair for road running and when they start to show wear, they become my trail shoe and my current trail Hoka is retired. I'm not REALLY cheap, but at 170 bucks a pair, I'm bound and determined to squeeze all the juice out of these Hoka lemons. I'll usually get about 450 miles on the road and another 250+ on the trail before they go to Hoka Heaven. Well, after slipping and sliding for 8 hours last week, when I took my mud-caked shoes off I noticed that most of the sole on these babies was slick, like a bald tire! No wonder I was skiing through the woods. The next day, I calculated that those pair of shoes had right at 1000 miles on them (I write the date on my shoes when they do their 1st run)! Guess I squeezed that lemon a little too much.

Buy a thin rain jacket - The temperature started in the high 40's and it was pouring. I have 2 rain jackets. One is a very good waterproof/breathable jacket I picked up on sale from GearBuzz. It's great, but a little heavy for MOST Alabama rainy days. There were some early morning rains in the 35 degree range that this jacket was a lifesaver. At this race however, I ran in a light, waterproof bike jacket that I picked up for $32 about 10 years ago. It works great...always has, probably always will. Doesn't breathe and has no pockets, but I wore it for the first 20 miles of the race and had no problems at all.  

Have dry/warm, comfortable clothes ready at the finish line - Preparation is key. It always amazes me that on a cold morning after a tough run, and you're freezing your ever-lovin' butt off in the parking lot, that when you get that sweaty, cold shirt off and put on a dry one, you immediately warm up. Following this race, not only was I wet as a striped bass, but I was as muddy as a happy pig (I love to paint visuals). Getting changed was almost life-changing! 

Stay positive - the hardest points of any race is when negative thoughts start-a-creepin' in. Every runner knows that to be successful (whatever your definition of that is) a big piece has to be about defeating the demons. They'll hit you usually about 2/3's of the way through any race and usually lay out a pretty convincing argument to quit. But, it's easier to hang on during the last 2 miles of a 10k than it is the last 30 miles of a hundred miler! During this race, I never hit a real low point, but when things started to go south, I just tried to concentrate on my form, and moving smoothly. I try to concentrate just in the moment, not how far I've been, and certainly not how far I have to go. My mantra has been with me for decades and is even on my RoadID - "Every step is a step closer"

Just keep moving - This is easier said than done, but when it hurts, you just need to keep moving. Getting to the aid station always brings some relief, but you can lose a ton of time just "hanging around". Walking is ok while you refuel and restock, but stopping doesn't get you anywhere. Ration your energy and keep your effort even. You'll be going slower at the end, but your effort should be on even keel.

Smile - This goes along with staying positive, but when you smile, you're more likely to stop feeling miserable. You're too tired to be a stand-up comic, but keeping things in perspective and trying to stay on the bright side of the situation will always be an option to help keep you going.

You chose this - keep reminding yourself that this is what you love to do, so stop whining. We all have our own reasons, but choosing to lie in bed on a miserable, cold, rainy morning, or running 50k in these conditions was never really a decision to fight with. To me, running a 50k is a blast for me...I ran for over 8 hours through mud, rain, cold, and the amazing scenery of Oak Mountain. No, I didn't romp like a teenage gymnast doing her floor exercise, but I did enjoy most of it. And you can't describe how you feel when you finish, but believe me, the needle on the Good/Bad meter is definitely on the "good" side.  

Music is Good - About 5AM on race morning, I got a call from my buddy and long-lost brother, Moha, that he couldn't make it, so I was on my own. Because we wouldn't be yukking it up for 8 hours, I decided to bring my own entertainment. I ran about 2 hours without anything, then a podcast for more than 3 hours (TalkUltra is a great pod, but gets longer with each episode). Finally, I plugged into my ipod shuffle of favorites. We all have our own playlists that embarrass us to admit what we listen to, but mine is all over the place. However, I have to say that Van Morrison's "Bright Side of the Road" is the best song to listen to when you're within smelling distance of the finish line. Love that song!  

Thank people - The volunteers at ultras are top notch, they deserve your gratitude. Despite the miserable conditions, at least I was running and staying relatively warm. Good friends like Prince Whatley were out there all day. Dan Ripple (who is running the CCC at France's UTMB race in August) was standing in ankle deep mud to direct us. David Christy was there all day taking fabulous photos that he makes available to all runners free of charge! And Mary Jo Tosch, the RD's wife, opened a Gu for me when she saw me struggling to rip the top off the damn thing (somebody has to come up with a better design for wet, sweaty runner's hands). Anyway, thanks to all.

OK, not a race report. Hope you all didn't get too bored with this recap, but I'm proud another one is behind me. Tough 18 mile trail race in July, and then a pretty busy Fall season. At the beginning of the year I told myself if I was going to go down, I was going down in flames. So far, so good. Let's see how many more pair of Hokas I can wear out. Run strong my friends.

I'm looking forward to seeing you all on the roads - AL


"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"

You Can Kick My Butt Now, But That Wasn't Always The Case.

 "Everything you do in life will be insignificant...but it's very important that you do it" - Ghandi


One of the 'opportunities' of growing older is the ability to accept that what you once did fast and often you are now lucky to do at all. One morning this week, my alarm went off to get me out of bed for my usual pre-dawn, before-work run, and I no more wanted to get out bed than the man in the moon. I knew it was cold (ok, it was only 43 degrees, but anything cooler than bath water is cold to me!), and I grumbled about putting on a long sleeve and whether it was cold enough for gloves (of course it was). I struggled to brush my teeth, get dressed and lace up my shoes. Each physical movement to get ready was an effort accompanied by an appropriate grunt or blow.  At each pause along the way to the front door out of the house, I ALMOST convinced myself to just set my watch alarm, put my head back, and wake up in 45 minutes. But, being the hard core runner that I am, I just kept aiming to the door, stepped outside, waited while Mister Nike+ Watch acquired the needed satellites so I would know how far my 4.06 mile loop was today, and eventually I got going down the road. Now, this tale should tell about what a pleasure it was to run in the morning coolness (cold) as the day transformed from dark to light, and how glad I was that I had defeated my morning gremlins to hit the roads. Sorry! My legs felt like crap cement pillars and each step felt worse than the one before. Sometimes I say "I dragged through this run", but friends, "I really dragged through this run!". No warning. It just just came upon me when I woke up! Even though I put in the expected mileage, the effort was just not there. Hey, it happens. Not too often, but more often than I'd like. It's days like this that I think you really have to try to fight those demons, because they lurk inside and can just as easily show up during a long run or race and if you don't have practice at meeting it head on, it becomes easier to give in.

This morning, Moha and I ventured out to Oak Mountain to put in some miles getting ready for a trail 50K we're doing next week. We did the same "race" last year and we call it "The Sissy Trail 50k" because it's 10 loops of a 3+ mile trail that has gentle, but constant rolling terrain. Well, this week, I get an email from David Tosch, the Race Director, about the details of the race and while cursively reading the course description, I notice we're on a different trail this year! Now, I don't consider myself a creature of habit, but dagnabit, don't change the course on me a week out. It's really no big deal as we quickly dubbed this trail "Sissy Trail #2", but after 4 loops (13+ miles) I was questioning how another 6 loops would go. Guess we'll find out next week. But, although the course is relatively the same terrain, I had all these voices going through my head about "hillier, more turns, more rocks, more roots"... all fabricated and I'm sure things will go fine...at least if it doesn't go fine, it won't be because of the course.

I have been an ultra-runner for over 30 years and have certainly have had to confront those little voices to just "shut it down" many, many times. Back in the old days, in many races I could finish in the top 10% of the field. Sure, there would be bad days but they were few and far between. Segue a couple of decades ahead... Very few of my former peers are still running, let alone running ultras. We get slower, stiffer, crankier, and hopefully, I guess just more accepting of the way things are. Somedays, I think maybe I don't need to run for 3 hours on a Saturday morning, or I don't need to set my sites on an ultramarathon a couple of months ahead. But, you know what? I really enjoy doing this kind of stuff. I've written on this site several times about how long distance running is part of me. It is not what defines me, but it is part of the fabric that holds me together. I still shoot to finish for that 10% finish, but it's the bottom 10% instead of the top. But, that's more than ok with me. I like the fact that I can go the distance, even if that distance seems to be MUCH longer than it used to be when it's actually shorter. I try to replace these "Shut it down" voices with my own "Shut the hell up" voice and keep trotting down the trail. 

The new crop of runners are where I was in 1980, only they are faster, better equipped, and but, as I did, know they are indestructible and I am now on the trail behind them. But, there is nothing wrong with that...just give me enough time and I'll be there. They'll stop running when they get to the finish line and I'll catch up. Then we'll hoist a beer together and times will be irrelevant. We're both doing what we want to do, and hopefully, keep doing it.

Wait for me and I'l see you on the roads - AL

"One child lost is too many...one child saved can change the world"