Progressively Zen

This morning I literally gave the alarm an ugly look.  But ... for the first time in over a week I didn't stir all night nervous about missing my morning workout.  I slept well and that's a big thing!

I rolled out of bed at 4:15, (Mondays I work from 7 am until 8 pm, so 4:15 the next morning comes fast) and following my morning routine, warmed up and hit the road for another zen run (no time constraints, only running by feel).  This was going to be a 4 miler though, instead of two.  And, instead of driving to somewhere flat, I was running from home.  Two big things also!  I'm starting to feel like Seabiscuit, too!
 
In the graph below you can see how the terrain is around my house.  This is the flattest run I can do leaving my home.  

As you can see, the first two miles are down hill, dropping from almost 3,700 feet to 3,450 feet.  It's an out and back, so, the last two are up.  I decided, depending on how the leg felt, that it might be interesting to see if I could do a progressive run, made a bit trickier to pull off because of the elevation. I had my garmin with me, but agreed NOT to check pace or time at all.  I just wanted it to see how I did when I was finished. 

Mile one I just loosened up, concentrated on keeping my stride short.  Mile two, down hill also, so I did more of the same.  On mile three I had to slow down twice (I think) as the hamstring began to tighten.  I concentrated on shortening my stride for a minute or so, then sped up again.  The last mile was my best, though certainly not fast, but for being just fourteen days off of the hamstring strain, I'm happy with it.

All told, I did the run in 38 minutes which is considerably slower than normal (about a minute and a half per mile slower), but was fast enough that with the heavy clothes I was wearing, I got a good sweat.  Anyhow, as you can see in the picture above, I went faster as the terrain got steeper and did so while maintaining a short stride and keeping the hamstring happy!

I guess I won't be trying to run the last leg of the duathalon (2 miles) in under 13, but hey, I'll be able to run.

Cross Training: Either 50 mph or 5 mph.

Today I went on a very difficult bike ride, perhaps the most difficult I've ever done. It was only 15 miles, and I've done rides with greater total elevation changes, but not on similar terrain. The other climbs I've done were gradually up, climbing to a high point and then turning around. This was route traversed canyons, up one side, down the other. Eight of the miles were flat. So, 1300 feet in 7 miles, up one side, plateau, down the other, repeat.

I've driven this route before and the hills can make a car overheat in the summer. The cool part, of course, is going down the hills. The steepest hill was a switch back, so I didn't get to let it open up right there. But, there's a section that's 1/4 mile long and here's what happened. Note that the big number is the speedometer (it's reading interference from the phone) but the number 49.4 was the max speed on the ride.


That speed on those skinny little tires is kind of scary, especially one old country back roads that receive minimal upkeep. To make matters worse, with my head down gravity and wind conspired to pour gobs of sweaty sunscreen in my left eye. One eye, down a road I've never ridden a bike on going 50 mph. AWESOME!

I also thought I'd share a cool graph. The hills are fairly accurate, but for some reason, the computer changed the distance from 15 and change to 21 miles. So, the inclines are actually considerably steeper.
Today, after the first steep climb at mile 4.7, which was actually the worst climb as it just kept getting steeper as I went, it struck me why running hills is easier than riding them. Hills are the hardest part of either sport (in my opinion), but while running, I can zone out and just push. As long as I can provide oxygen and fuel to my muscles, I can go. While riding, I'm using a machine to the limits of my ability and there's a certain coordination/dexterity that is a learned behavior, not an inherent genetic ability. Both sports are largely mental, but the equipment changes things. Some people prefer the aspect of the equipment, but not me.

Saturday I'm going to run a few miles at the high school track, just see how everything feels. At this point, I'm concerned that I actually have a broken foot instead of just a sprained one. There was never any significant swelling or lack of strength, just pain. But it's not healing like a minor sprain. I hope I'm just getting old and it really is a sprain!

The real issue, on the other leg, the Soleus/Achilles is feeling better and better. Just some minor pain this AM at the bottom of my heel when I got out of bed. But those types of pain are normal for me as I've really trashed both of my ankles in two separate accidents while in the military.

Anyhow, while that was the hardest bike ride ever (only one other comes close), it was also the most exciting. Like running, I fought NOT to bargained with myself during the ride:

Take the easier route home, you're tired. You'll make it up later.

No, I got this, though that last hill is scary.

When it hurts, you're getting to the good part.

Last thing: Plateau...I've not broken it. Since dipping down to 208 my weight has fluctuated from 211 to 215 like before. I'm not really worried about it and only share to keep record of some of the events that occur as one loses weight. My body fat is dropping and I'm putting on muscle, still visibly so. I'm stronger each week and the width of my hands and feet are shrinking, while veins bulge in places never before seen. And considering that I've been on vacation for three weeks and have maintained my weight is an accomplishment. I've got free reign over the pantry, fridge and could swing by Wendy's for a frosty at any time. So, I'm doing ok. :D

I will stay the course for now, and continue to fight those bad eating habits (though their number is ever diminishing).

Grouchy Kids, Lazy Rabbits and Dead Birds

My running partner is my 12 year old daughter, Brianna. We've decided to run together 5 to 6 days a week over the summer to get a good cardiovascular base. She wants to be better in cross country and track and I want to be a better runner and in better shape myself. For both of us that means early mornings when we wouldn't otherwise have to wake up!

I am careful to make sure it's not a situation where I'm living vicariously through her running experiences. I'm not forcing her to run. If she wants to skip a run, she is free to do so without consequence or disapproval. She runs because she wants to. Or, so I hoped!

Today, I found out that was the case.

We spent the weekend at my in-laws' house. They live in Marana, Arizona, about eighty miles north of us. As always, we had a great time and ate too much food, probably none of it on a runner's dietary plan!

As a result, we were both tired and grouchy this morning. We got up an hour late (7 instead of 6). We took forever to get ready. When we left, I knew Brianna was grouchy and irritable. I tried to have the kid gloves out.

Before running, I suggested we walk up the hill to the end of our street. It's a steep hill, about 1/4 mile long. I figured it would get our bodies warmed up a bit before we hit the road running.

While walking, everything I said was met with a grouchy, borderline disrespectful grumble or grunt. About half way down the hill I stopped and corrected her behavior, told her to be respectful (in a more aggressive fashion that was probably really called for, I was tired too).

I tried to engage her in conversation again, just to break her out of her mood. Often, it's little things out of the ordinary that one of us will notice that will set the world right again. I saw the first signs of summer monsoon clouds on the horizon, and wanted to point them out to her. No luck. She was still sour and unreasonable. I mean, everything was irritating to her.

I stopped and bent down to her eye level and said, "Listen, you don't have to go on this run. You don't have to be here. Why don't you just go back up the driveway and go back to bed if you don't want to run."

As we walked down the road towards the driveway she was on the side of the street where our house is. I was watching out of the corner of my eye to see if she'd go home or stay with me. I was hoping she'd stay with me and be happy, but figuring that only the prior half of the wish would be true, I also hoped she'd go home. I didn't want to be snapped at by a 12 year old on a morning run when I felt crappy.

She stayed. I was happy. Even if we didn't talk, it was nice to have my running partner with me.

I let her pace the run. She's shown signs of being able to really cook, but also sometimes runs half-heartedly. Today I'd see both.

The first mile and a half we were running 12 minute miles...barely moving! That was ok, I figured. We both had new shoes and I was sore from the previous day's run. But, that was on the down hill and flat portion of the run. We had a 250 foot climb ahead of us. I was sure we'd come to a screaming halt then.

Over the years I've shown an uncanny knack for one thing in particular: incorrectness. I had done it again. I was wrong.

As we turned onto the dirt road with the hill, Camino Revolucion, she perked up and started telling me all about the road, how it was bumpy, how there were dogs at the top and how steep the hill was. (Her school bus travels down the road on its route.) Her pace quickened significantly as we started the climb.

The climb gradually increases until it gets to the last 200 yards and then it rapidly increases. As we approached that point where the hill increases incredibly I told her I was just going to run up it and wait for her at the top. She ran with me but stopped. While I was finishing the hill, on her own, she had gathered her composure and started to sprint up the road. When I reached the top she was 50 feet behind me. When she reached the top she was as red faced as humanly possible and about ready to collapse. She put her hands on top of her head as I'd taught her and she was stumbling around.

Then we saw the lazy rabbit. A cotton tail, right between us just slowly crawling along, aware but unconcerned. Maybe it had run up that hill before and knew we had nothing left with which to pose a threat.

We were now back on pavement and had a short, but very steep hill to climb, then a short descent, and then another climb and then some long down hills until we were back home. We crested the first short hill and came down the back side. At the bottom the hill changes from an incredible pitch of probably 8% to flat almost instantaneously. Cars always smack their bumpers here if they are unfamiliar with how to drive it.

At that spot there was a dove, dead. Not only was it dead, but it appeared it had no head! Johnny-on-the-spot, I was ready with the Dumb and Dumber quote. As it turned out, it wasn't headless, but had its head curled back like they do when sleeping.

We turned to start the last climb of the run and Brianna went sprinting past me. It was all I could do to catch up! We ran like that for the next 100 yards to the top of that hill. My hamstring was screaming at me but it was a lot of fun.

The thing with running together is that it's something you do, together. There are things that happen that don't happen at home in front of the TV. There are bonds made and common experiences shared and later relived. The physical benefits are just icing really.



Here's a graph of the elevation changes. It wasn't a long run, but you can find as much challenge as you want in hills.