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Volatile Stuff:Events:Stone Cat 50 Mile Trail Race November 7, 2009 Middlesex Fells Trail Race December 5, 2009 AMC Mountaineering Committee Ice Program Winter 2010 Crash-B Indoor Rowing Championships February 14, 2010 Friends:Breakheart DanTrail Pixie Trespas Kevin kZ Trailgrrl Michelle RunninRob Cookie Monster Steve Latour Pictures:AlbumRunning Data:20102009 2008 |
Fri, 15 Jan 2010Since running the Stone Cat Trail Race in November I've been pretty lazy. Yeah. Sure, I managed the Fells Trail Race 8-mile version. I even showed up before the start this time. I had a great time running with Emily, but since then I have mostly been hanging around at home. One high point came with the delivery of the January/Febuary 2010 issue of Ultrarunning which prominently (page 62) featured a picture of the backs of Breakheart Dan and yours truly illustrating Stone Cat. Another came on the very day of the Fells Trail Race when the Western States Endurance Run held its lottery, and our friend trailgrrl Michelle was chosen to run 100 miles through some of the most spectacular landscape in California this coming June. Since then, while my friends have donned snowshoes to run through the winter, I have been nestled all snug in my bed while visions of sugarplums danced in my head. See the recipe I used for sugarplums here. I made these immediately after watching the Boston Ballet's Nutcracker. They tasted mysteriously like Lara Bars. I love Lara Bars, but I'm inspred to make more of my own trail food. Having rested way too much the last couple of months I decided to try to arrest the inevitable slide of my well-honed conditioning with a short run. I managed just over 7 miles on Monday in about 1:05 for an average pace of a bit over 9 minutes per mile. My heart rate averaged 156 beats per minute. I've registered for the Vermont 100 Mile Endurance Run on July 18 and 19, a week before my daughter's 15th birthday. This race, along with Western States, Leadville, and Wasatch Front, is one of the 4 classic 100 mile races forming the ultrarunning grand slam. It also offers the unique experience of running with horses, as the race is also an endurance riding event. I understand the campsite I've reserved is in the same meadow where the horses are turned out before the race. Deadlastultrarunner Steve is also registered for Vermont, and he's a great guy to run with so I'll have excellent company. We're also planning to convince a couple of other friends to join us. Steve's got an ambitious racing schedule planned for the next few months. I expect I'll join a few of those. I'd also like to make a Presidential Traverse early this summer. We'll see. Tue, 10 Nov 2009I'll apologize for the length of this post up front, but I've been working toward this for a while. All this year I had intended the Stone Cat 50 Mile Trail Race to be my goal race for the 2009 season. After bailing out of the Fells Trail Race in March after only 24 arduous miles; and after losing several months of training to Lyme Disease; I was both determined to run my best at Stone Cat and worried that I had bitten off way too much. Breakheart Dan and I had discussed our concern that neither of us had a training day longer than 23 miles to prepare for this. He was planning to alternate running five minute with walking two. My strategy was to stick with people I knew to keep up my morale. My plan was to keep moving at whatever speed I could manage; to stay on course (walking in the right direction is better than running in the wrong one); and to avoid lingering in the three wonderful aid stations. The course is a 12.5 mile loop through Willowdale State Forest in Ipswich, MA. The terrain is mostly rolling with reasonable footing. It's a mix of carriage roads and singletrack trails. The race is held on the last day possible to qualify for the 2010 Western States Endurance Run. Dan, trailgrrl Michelle, and I have all entered the lottery for a spot in this most prestigious of American Trail Ultramarathons. Michelle had already qualified, but for Dan and I, an 11 hour finish at Stone Cat meant a shot at more serious personal deprivation. View Stone Cat Trail Races, November 7, 2009 in a larger map In order to avoid inconveniencing my family, I spent the night before the race at the Comfort Inn in Danvers along with many others of the 350 entrants in the Marathon and 50 mile races. Early race morning Dan picked me up and drove us to the start, the Doyon School in Ipswich. We parked at a reserved parking spot for teachers in the 'Extended Day Program,' an irony that was not lost on us. I had forgotten gloves, and in the 30 degree weather I was grateful for an extra pair of Dan's. We met Trail Pixie Emily, Michelle, Cookie Monster Steve Latour, and 'kZ Kevin in the school gym.
We ran the second and third loops much more slowly and grimly. We began to curse the alarm on Dan's watch signalling the time to end walk breaks. A high point came when Emily passed us on the second loop on her way to finishing the marathon. By the middle of the third loop, I had stubbed my left big toe badly a few times and was feeling the need to walk more of the singletrack. In order to compensate, I began to run the carriage roads a little faster at mile 30. Toward the end of the third loop Steve fell back a bit but caught up with Dan and me at the starting line aid station. We were late enough that we had to take lights with us on the last loop. We figured we had lost our chance to finish under 11 hours. Steve decided he would run a different pace than Dan and I had taken, and we split at the start of the fourth loop. At Al Cat's Aid Station Dan and I caught up with Michelle who was having a tough time. Kevin was ahead, and she asked us to give him a message at the finish. I can't speak for Dan, but I was concerned about the prospect of running twisting, root-filled, rocky singletrack in the dark. I wanted to be done with the toughest terrain while the sun was still up, so Dan and I started running through walk breaks. At trail intersection 44 we talked to a man who mentioned that he thought of this Southwest corner of the course to be the half-way point of the loop. I had always had a similar impression. Still running, I took out the map and mentioned to Dan that I thought we still had a shot at 11 hours. We picked up the pace. We cleared some of the toughest singletrack before the sun went down. There was still light in the sky when we hit the longest stretch of carriage road on the course. We picked up the pace and ran through walk breaks, slowing to short walks only when my IT Band began to cause problems. We put on lights for the turn onto the last singletrack sections. I began to pull ahead of Dan who soon appeared as a pair of lights about 100 yards behind. We passed one last runner a couple of miles from the finish. Nearing an abandoned car where we had taken a picture three weeks before, I called back to Dan to see whether he was up for a run in the dark on relatively tough terrain where he had fallen on a previous loop. He was. We pushed ahead reaching the last section of carriage road. Soon I could hear the cheers from the finish line less than a mile away. I ran ahead wildly calling back to Dan that we were reaching landmarks: the turn to the first climb of the course and the Jersey barriers. When I reached the soccer field and the people waiting at the finish line saw my headlamp I heard the call that a runner had entered the field and there was a chorus of cheers. You've got to love a sport where the winners wait in the cold to cheer everyone else. As I neared the finish I heard Emily call my name. She had recognized me from the effect my gait had on the bob of my headlamp. She had been waiting for hours and had donned a 0 degree sleeping bag over her shoulders as a kind of stole that looked quite cozy. Soon the call came that another runner had entered the field: Dan. I yelled ahead that the other runner was Dan Scotina, and cheers erupted at the finish. I crossed the line at 10:53:27 and Dan crossed at 10:54:35. Steve ran the last loop alone, mostly in the dark, a heroic and insane accomplishment as documented by his videos. He finished in 11:45:45; he may have to give up calling himself deadlastultrarunner. Michelle finished in just over 11 hours. Kevin passed through the finish long before the rest of us at 10:33:27. After the race I changed into dry clothes including my spiffy new Stone Cat finisher's jacket, stretched, and checked out my feet. The gaiters Emily had made me had done a spectacular job of keeping the trail out of my shoes. My left big toenail is blue from the multiple stubbings, and I expect I will lose it...again. Other than that, I feel great. Three days later I'm still tired and hungry. But I have a strange glowy satisfaction that wont disappear soon or easily. Thanks to everyone who participated in this adventure with me: friends, race volunteers, and fellow runners. We are a strange community, indeed. Sun, 18 Oct 2009Last week I took a break from running at exactly the wrong time. A month before my first 50 mile run, I just couldn't make the time to get out for my long runs. I did have an excellent weekend with my wife and daugter at Rocking Horse Ranch in New York's Hudson Valley. We've been spending Columbus Day Weekend there for six years now. Connie is a much better rider than either Carol or me. We do enjoy riding, though. The trails at RHR lie in a small valley and on the ridge of the hill that forms one side of the valley. The land is former farmland retaken by birch, oak, hickory, and maple forest. In mid-October the forest is spectacularly colorful. Over the three days we were there, we got 10 one hour long trail rides in. Actually, I was a bit lazy and only managed 9. Connie has been riding for four years and canters easily. Carol and I have traditionally stuck to the intermediate trot ride and early morning walk rides. This time, though, I managed two advanced canter rides. Cantering was huge fun. Gil's Athletic Club, which sponsors the Stone Cat Trail Race, organized a run on the course yesterday for entered runners. I planned to get out early and take in a loop on the course before the 9 am start, but didn't manage to get there until just before 9. Once there I found 'Breakheart' Dan, Kevin 'kZ,' and Steve Latour. I knew Dan and Kevin from earlier runs in the Fells, although I hadn't seen them in months. I knew of Steve from his pictures from the Fells Trail Race, emails that circulate within our little group of runners, and his coverage of the Fells Trail Race in Ultrarunning Magazine. Hearing that 'Trail Pixie' Emily was only a minute away, we let the organized run start without us. Within minute we were joined by a speedy runner named Paul. This group of five ran together for the next 12.5 miles exchanging schemes for entering 100-mile races, animal puns, and other pleasant banter. We got lost a couple of times, but not too badly or too often. After this first loop, I had to scurry home. I'm looking forward to seeing these guys again at the race if not earlier. View Return to Willowdale, October 17, 2009 in a larger map I felt the need to get a much longer running day in than just the 12.5 miles, so after Connie went to bed, I headed out again. I ignored the weather.com warning about coastal flooding and took my standard route in the direction of Deer Island. This route follows Chelsea Creek to Suffolk Downs Ractrack and then over the Beachmont Hill to the beach. The plan was to turn around when the GPS indicated 5.25 miles for a 10.5 mile run and a total of 23 for the day. Along Chelsea Creek, a tidal river, I realized the water was higher than I had ever seen it. Drizzle started about 2 miles in. Arriving at the beach at mile 3.5, I found seaweed strewn over the road. I looked over the seawall to see huge Pacific-Ocean-looking surf. Every now and then a wave would splash over the wall. This made for a wild run, and I got a mouthfull of saltwater more than once. View Coastal Flooding Run, October 17, 2009 in a larger map Mon, 28 Sep 2009Breakheart Dan having heard of my return to running was kind enough to remind me recently that the Stone Cat Marathon and 50 mile races were each capped at 150 runners. I was struggling with the decision to run Stone Cat. My longest run since June was a mere 13.14 miles. I wasn't sure I was now in a position to finish a trail marathon, let alone a 50M. I was, however, full of ambition and wanted to run the ultramarathon if I thought I was up to it. I was training for the Stone Cat 50 last June when I was bitten at Willowdale State Forest by a tick infected with Lyme Disease. Now detrained, I wanted to see how I did in a longer run before signing up. Last Wednesday I ran an 8 mile tempo run at too slow a pace and too high a heart rate. On Friday I ran 4.03 miles at a 9:00 pace and 148 beats per minute. Finally, I decided to try out something longer. Sunday I managed to run out to the tip of Deer Island and back home for a total 16.02 miles. I mostly ran but took a 1 minute walk break every 2 miles. My pace averaged to 9:45 and my heart rate averaged 153. Although my feet, ankles, and Achilles tendons were a bit sore afterward, and I was soaked in rain, I felt great. When I got home I downloaded an entry form for Stone Cat. When Dan had pointed out the cap on runners at Stone Cat, I mentioned that there seemed to still be about 20 open spots for the marathon and more for the ultra. I joked that it would be hilarious if the marathon reached its cap, and I was forced to run the 50. Ironically, this is exactly what happened. I dropped my entry for the Stone Cat 50 Mile Trail Race in the mail today after school. I'll need to get some much longer runs in this month, but I think I can do it. Sun, 20 Sep 2009After three months of, at best, intermittent running, I've finally returned to regular training. Tuesday I ran 6 miles at 8:55/mi. Shockingly, my heart rate hit 188 beats per minute. Two days later, I ran 3 miles at 8:57/mi. My doctor had advised me to start slowly, and my high heart rate suggested that pushing hard this early in my recovery was a bad idea. I was looking forward to a longer 9 mile run today. I woke up early and headed out to Willowdale for a partial loop. In order to avoid waking up my family, I didn't make my two usual triple espressos. 20 minutes into the drive to Willowdale, dawn was still an hour away, and I felt too tired and cold to continue. I came back home, drank my coffee, and waited for the sun. I switched my planned trail run for 9 miles on the road. Halfway in I was feeling good and decided to extend the run to half-marathon distance. I managed my 13.14 miles in 2:05:19 for an average 9:32/mi. Mercifully, my average heart rate was only 150. Things are looking up. Now that I have a baseline week, I'm trying to come up with a training plan to get me through Stone Cat and the Fells Trail Race. Most sources advise gradually increasing training load, but I only have 6 weeks to Stone Cat. The same sources typically suggest only increasing volume by 10% a week. Most published plans translate this into a conservative linear increase in training volume. My intention is to increase my volume exponentially (at 15% a week), and then cut back on all but my longest run. This should provide for longer runs and for significant rest. I'm still undecided betwen the Stone Cat Marathon and the Stone Cat 50. Registration must be received by mid-October, so I have a little time to make up my mind. I have friends in both races, so whichever I choose, I should have great company. Sun, 13 Sep 2009Earlier this summer as I lay in bed with a 102 degree fever, I read an article from the June or August issue of Trail Runner Magazine. The artice was about recovering from a layoff from training, and I found it completely demoralizing. I had already lost nearly a month of training and would likely lose at least another. I read that after two weeks of not running, cardiovascular endurance as measured by VO2 max begins to drop considerably. Typically, a runner would need months to get back to his or her previous fitness level after a layoff of a few months. When August 1 rolled around and registration opened for the Stone Cat 50 Mile Race, I immediately filled out the form, wrote a check, sealed the envelope, and then tore it up. I've run only three times since then, for a measly 5 miles each time. The first two of these were in Boston's Fenway/Jamaica Pond area. For the first, I managed an average pace of 9:58 and heart rate of 163, which is quite high for such a slow pace. These aggregate numbers do not do justice to the experience, though. In fact, for the last three miles I was above 170 beats per minute for much of the time and walked out of concern for my heart. The second time, I averaged 9:05 with an average heartrate of 168. Again I ran the last three miles at a quite elevated heart rate. These were both very hot days, and I had a lot on my mind besides running. View Five Mile Run, August 17, 2009 in a larger map I considered that I may have been running too fast and driving my heart needlessly hard. True, a 9 minute mile is not fast to most of you out there, but for me, now, it's pretty speedy. I desided to consider a new measure of fitness that would take into account heartrate and pace and hopefully control for their relationship with each other. It seemed to me that both heartrate and pace will be low for a fitter runner. On the other hand, the lower one measure goes, the higher the other is likely to be. Therefore, the product of the two measures (pace times heartrate) will be lowest for the fittest runner, and may even be relatively constant over a variety of paces on flat terrain. Since heartrate is measured in beats per minute, and pace is measured in minutes per mile, their product will be beats per mile. Essentialy what we have is the number of heartbeats over the course of a mile. Speed will lower this measure by shortening the time and increase it by increasing the demand for energy. Applying this measure to my summer 5 mile runs, I get 1625 beats per mile for the first, and 1526 beats per mile for the second. Comparing these to earler runs when I was better trained, I have 1240 beats per mile for a half-marathon on June 11 and 1365 beats per mile for a 20.5 mile training run on May 31. As the Lyme Disease was incubating, I ran 13.2 miles at 1399 beats per mile and felt like crap afterward. At Race the Wilds, I ran 3.54 miles at 1631 beats per mile. Since this was almost completely steeply uphill, there should be no surprise the beats per mile measure is elevated. I'm ready to begin regular training again, and I've registered for the Ultra Division of the Fells Trail Race on December 5. I'm also carrying on an internal debate. Should I sign up for the Stone Cat Marathon? Should I be even more audacious and sign up for the Stone Cat 50? Mon, 27 Jul 2009It's been 30 days since I've written anything here, and some of them have been hard. When I last wrote, a prescription for Keflex and Bactim had cleared up what I believed to be a cellulitis infection. Carol, Connie, and I left for our traditional Independence Day vacation in New York and Pennsylvania the next day. I was fine for the trip down to Watkins Glen to stay at Farm Sanctuary, a wonderful community of vegetarians and farm animals and following that at Knoebels Amusement Park. Since Central Pennslvania appears to be totally devoid of strong coffee, I happily made espresso every morning on an alcohol stove I made from beer cans. We reached the cabin of the Hemlock Rod and Gun Club, of which my father-in-law is a longstanding member, on July first, and I finished my antibiotics the same day. The next few days were a joyous whirlwind of fireworks, food and such amusements as the Barkpeelers' Convention at the Pennsylvania Lumber Museum. It may sound silly, but I would seriously regret missing it. I even ran in the innaugural Race the Wilds 5K, a trail race from the lodge to the top of the ski lift at Ski Denton. Taking Breakheart Dan's advice, I decided that a 5K should hurt and really pushed hard. There were maybe 13 runners in this race, an amiable mix of high school and college track athletes and older trail enthsiasts. As I expected, I was left in the dust at the flat start, but made up ground on the climbs. As we ran up the lower switchback of the ski run 'Sidewinder,' I passed one runner. I tortured my toes on a pounding descent back to the lodge and turned for a climb up into the hollow behind the ski area. The trail climbed at a relatively low grade but for an extremely long time through the hollow to the ridge. I passed three more runners. Most were now walking. I figure that you walk to reserve something for later, but in a 5K there is no later. I kept pushing up the hill until I saw that my heart rate was above 175 beats per minute just as my GPS read 3.1 miles. The race should be over here, but there was one more climb; the course was actually about a half mile longer than 5K. I walked brisky until I was in sight of the finish and then jogged to the snack table. I was the fourth finisher overall and the first over 40 years old. The Ski Denton people had collected a schmorgasboard of food from local businesses, and I gorged on fig newtons. After a beautiful ride down the chair lift with a local trail runner, we received an overwhelming abundance of prizes all locally donated. Mine included lift tickets for Ski Denton. I'l definiely be back in the winter. View Race the Wilds, July 5, 2009 in a larger map The next day we drove to New Paltz, New York, one of my favorite places in the world, a charming small college town and rock climbing epicenter. We stayed at The Hungry Ghost Guest House, a bed and breakfast run by a wonderful pair of vegan outdoor enthusiasts. That evening while sipping a glass of wine in the library loft, I was sruck by a crippling headache. I attributed it to the wine and the drive. The headache stayed with me for days. My neck and shoulders became very tense, and my hips ached so much that I could not find a comfortable position to sleep. The next day we walked around the Mohonk Mountain House amid scattered thunderstorms. When we arrived home two days later I had a fever again. I went to my doctor's office, and a member of his practice told me to that I probably had a virus and to try to wait it out for a few days. Since I had been seen for a tick bite two months earlier, testing might reveal a false positive for Lyme anyway. After five days I had not improved. I tried to be upbeat, and during the day this was not hard, but as my temperature increased through the night I felt horrible. I was back to the doctor on July 14. This time I was given a blood test and without waiting for the result diagnosed with Lyme Disease. The 'pimple' I had scratched off in the middle of the night weeks before was likely a tick I had not previously noticed; they are tiny lttle buggers until they have fed on your blood for hours. The cellulitis infection had really been a Lyme rash; it's not always bullseye-shaped. The real clue, though, was the stiff neck. I could not touch my chin to my chest without severe pain. This is apparently a classic symptom of acute Lyme Disease. Dr. Cellar, a resident who consulted with senior specialists and did a spectacular job, prescribed Doxycycline, and I was feeling better by July 17. The test results confirmed that I had acute Lyme Disease and was beginning to build the antibodies typical of longer-term exposure. Lyme Disease is scary. Acute cases look like other illnesses: flu, cellulitis, etc. If allowed to progress, Lyme rarely kills, but it attacks the brain and nerves. It can cause meningitis, an infection of the fluid surounding the brain and spinal column. It can lead to long term general debilitation. For those reasons I was taken somewhat aback when I began to lose feeling in the left side of my face and my sense of taste. One classic symptom of more advanced Lyme is Bell's Palsy, an inflamation of one of the nerves that passes through the skull and manages the face. You have one on each side. As the electrical signal from my brain was partly blocked, I lost some control of my facal muscles. I couldn't smile symmetrically, or seal my mouth around a glass to drink water, or kiss. I couldn't completely close my left eye, and slept with my eye taped shut to keep it from drying out. I was back to the doctor. This time Dr. Cellar prescribed prednisone to treat my Bell's Palsy and sent me to an infectious disease specialist, Dr. Shipton at Cambridge Hospital. Dr. Shipton focussed on preventing chroic Lyme issues. She asked me to look for any nerological symptoms which might be as subjctive as just feeling 'not right.' She suggested I be on the lookout for swollen joints. Finally after hearing an unusual sound in my heart and consulting with another doctor about the murmur, she ordered an EKG with Doppler, or a heart ultrasound. Fever can cause abnormal heart behaviors that can lead to serious problems. So last week I had an ultrasound taken of my heart. I was a little creepy, but at the same time kind of fascinating to watch my heart valves open and close on the computer screen as I was poked and prodded with a sensor coated in lubricant. I had to wait 4 days for the results to be read. 
Today I feel great. My face is as symmetrical as it ever was. My temperature is normal. Nothing hurts. Best of all, the results of my haert ultrasound were normal. I've asked for copies of the ultrasoud video in mpg format. If I get them I'll see if I can post them to youtube. I haven't run since July 5, but I have been taking walks with my family. I think I'm ready to get out in the woods again. Sun, 28 Jun 2009
Swine Flu, Cellulitis, MRSA, Oh My!
This has benn a long strange week. Last I wrote I had been feeling a little draggy and sore, but was keeping up fairly high mileage for me. On Wednesday the 17th I was due to run just over 13 miles on the road. I was off school for Bunker Hill Day with just two more days of exams left. I woke up early to meet my brother-in-law, Joe and drive him to Logan. All went well, but I was putting off the run. I took an afternoon nap and had a hard time getting up. Carol convinced me to stop whining and just get out and run. I started chugging away with a plan to gradually speed up and to take a two-minute walk break every three miles. This worked reasonably well, but I found myself trying to compensate for my walk breaks with faster running in between: self-destructive. After running hard uphill at mile 10 I needed an unscheduled walk at mile 11. Something felt wrong. I plotted heartrate data to compare it with my last half-marathon length run the previous week. I had not noticed an appalling heartrate spike right at the beginning of the run. Even with the walk breaks my average heartrate was high. Something WAS wrong. I felt I must be overtrained. I had run 55 miles in the last 7 days and felt entitled to a couple of days off. 
The last two days of exams I tried to take things easy. I felt sore, and I was getting a headache. I emailed RunninRob to cancel a long run we had scheduled for Sunday. Friday afternoon I took my temperature and it was 101.4. Within hours it was 101.7. Now I never get sick; trauma? yes, but sick? no. I went to the Emergency Room several years ago after stepping on a board with a long nail sticking out of it, and again after falling through my rotting basement bulkhead stairs. Within a month I was back after falling through the other basement stairs. I've required heavy doses of antibiotics for cellulitis after being stung by a bee...twice. The first of these required IV antibiotics. So it was with some consternation that I accepted the idea that I had the flu. The next four days ran together in a blur of bedrest, a deluge of sweat, and the most violent shaking chills I have ever felt. My fever reached but never went over 102. The sweating was horrifying. In a year and a half of training, I managed to have made my body tolerate running much longer, but I made it quite expert at sweating. At night I would drench my side of the bed. Carol insists that in my delirium I claimed that the bed, not me, was sweating. We changed sheets several times a day. Invariably, the sweats were followed by cold, severe Mt. Washington in February cold. I would chatter my teeth and my whole body shook. On Saturday I went to the Cambridge Hospital ER and with a temperature of 102 was confirmed to have the flu. The most prevalent flu around these days is the H1N1 Swine Flu recently declared to be internationally pandemic. Public Health professionals do not test flu patients who are not in special high risk groups. I assumed I had H1N1 flu and informed our principal who responsibly had my classroom sanitized. Strangely, though, I never developed the classic respiratory symptoms: sore throat, cough, runny nose. Carol and Connie also after days of serious exposure to my illness developed no symptoms. And worse, my fever never really broke. Sunday night Carol noticed a rash on my belly. A few nights ago I had noticed a bump: a pimple, ingrown hair, whatever on my belly and had pinched it off. It had reddened and a rash had expanded at my waistband, I assumed it was just being aggravated by my waistband and would clear up. Carol was appalled. She wanted to go the the Emergency Room NOW (3 am). I persuaded her to wait until morning. The next morning doctors a the Mass General ER, where we stopped on Carol's way to work, confirmed that my fever was due to cellulitis (Note to self: it's ALWAYS cellulitis... stupid.), possibly MRSA. Without specific testing, I was given a prescription for Keflex and Bactrim that cleared my infection and fever within 48 hours. I'm just now regaining my strength. I managed to run 5 miles today at an average pace of 9:40/mi. Sun, 14 Jun 2009
Willowdale Run/Walk in the Rain
I've been feeling a bit thrashed lately and had been concerned about running my long weekend run. Breakheart Dan came to the rescue by writing recently about trying out the Galloway Method, the practice of taking scheduled walk breaks. I overslept this morning and it was raining when I hit the trail at Willowdale at 5 am. I decided to walk two minutes after every 2 miles and to shoot for an 11:00/mile pace. I also ate a bit during each walk break and took care of non-urgent gear adjustments. I found that when I ran again my heart rate was low and my legs were comfortable. Fatigue never really set in over 20.36 miles over 3:37:36 for 10:41/mile, my longest run yet at Willowdale. I did take my worst fall yet on muddy tree roots. My preivous longest run there was 19.48 miles at 10:40/mile. Unfortunately, on that run, the battery on my heart rate monitor was dead. I'd be willing to bet that my average heart rate was above the 138 beats per minute it was today. I'm trying to formulate a mathematical model of how walk breaks keep fatigue at bay. It seems to me that heart rate on a long run is asymptotic to a rate that depends on power exerted. I think it may be possible by taking heart rate data and running an exponential regression, to develop an optimal run/walk ratio for a given runner. 
On returning home, I grabbed a bite, and joined Connie and Carol on a shopping trip to Newbury Street. They bought a lot of wonderful stuff, and I felt better about my recent purchace of new winter climbing boots and crampons. Five more days of school! Fri, 12 Jun 2009Having run 20.5 miles at an average 9:49/mile pace on May 31, I was feeling pretty self-congratulatory. I seemed to be staying on my possibly too ambitious plan to reach a 70 mile a week training load by October. I ran a couple of short runs later in the week with a 12 mile run between them on Wednesday for a total of nearly 49 miles in a 7 day period. All of this was on pavement. Unfortunately, I was developing some nagging pain. The road shoes I had bought in September now had 525 miles on them. I had run another 272 on trails (mostly Skyline) during the same time. The cushion was giving out on the road shoes, and I had metatarsal pain and heel pain for the first mile and a half of every run. Worse, my left knee was making a disturbing clicking sound fairly often. So it was with some trepidation that I set out to run 21 miles or 3:30 hours whichever came first at Willowdale starting at 4 am last Sunday. Fortunately I had Trail Pixie's Gator-Bait Gaiters to protect me. I brought a video camera in a misguided attempt to capture the beauty and solitude of running at night. Needless to say the result is largely black screen with occasional shots of me, a disembodied headlamp, talking to the camera. I set out slowly, tiredly trudging over the gravel. In time the cold creakiness wore off, but I continued to feel weak. After about 20 minutes, I stumbled but caught myself. Another 5 minutes later I stumbled again barely getting a leg under myself. At about three miles, I tripped on a root falling hard on my right shoulder and hip and sliding several feet through the dirt. My flashlight and headlamp flew down the trail. Fortunately they still gave off light and were easy to find. I had less luck with the camera. I crawled around for five minutes until I found it relatively unscathed. Gradually the sun came up, and I managed to get a good running trance going. In the section of single track South of trail intersection 40, the shadows closed in. It was still light enough to run without artificial light. Nevertheless, I hit another root and went down again. This time I slid harder onto my right shoulder, got a mouthful of dirt and pine needles, and rolled onto my back. Soon after this I realized I had lost my headlamp. It had been turned off but still on my head when I fell. Fortunately I took a wrong turn and found myself back where I fell about a half an hour later. View Willowdale Long Run, June 7, 2009 in a larger map The rest of the run for a total of 16 miles was relatively uneventful. I considered planning an early morning group run. I thought about planning a group Presidential Traverse, which turns out to be ironic. I ended up cutting the run short when I ran out of fluid. I appear to be drinking more from my hydration pack than from bottles. When I stepped off the trail, I was covered with dirt, but, thanks to Emily's gaiters, the inside of my shoes was pristine. I had just enough time once I returned home to shower and head to Connie's dance recital. the recital was spectacular, as always. Later in the week I bought a new pair of road shoes and decided to take extra rest days to give my legs a chance to recover. I'm a little concerned that instead of gradually increasing my training load, I may be following a cycle of attempting a cripplingly over-ambitious week followed by a week of forced rest. This in turn results, through guilt, in another outrageously ambitious week. I also found that Marc Chauvin had also been planning Presidential Trail runs in his May 27 post. Even more exciting, an email from Ryan Prentiss to a local group of trail runners resulted in an avalanche of planning. The upshot is that at least seven of us are planning to head up to run/walk the Presidentials in early August. |
