On Sunday, I was pushing up one of the only two big hills, 12 miles into my weekly 14 mile long run. I was feeling pretty good and light, but a hill always reminds you how long you have been running.
I started my run as the sun was setting, and by now darkness was virtually hugging the buildings.
I glance upwards in a grimace. It's a bad habit, like I am looking at the sky with annoyance for God giving me the ability to feel pain. The moment I look up, a bright green star streaks across the sky, stretching from Georgetown to Hyattsville
Now I'm not really a superstitious person, but damn that has to mean SOMEthing, right?
Well, even if it doesn't, I'll pretend it will. Placebos are almost as important as real medicine, anyway.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Objectivism
I am, for all intents and purposes, a Poli Sci major. My degree will have all sorts of bells and whistles and qualifiers to my area of study, but in the Spring of 2013 I will have spent the last 4 years of my life immersed in Politics, whether it be domestically or abroad.
Politics is, at its core, a real-time game that plays out clashes in political philosophy. While successes can often be weighed and measured, many solutions and decisions are hard to quantify because we don't have a parallel universe where we know what would have happened if we had not implemented some policy and instead went with another.
Since my Junior year of high school I have known that I will work in the public sector, and with that decision has come studying and mastering the subjective. Internalizing arguments firsthand and creating those of my own.
I have, by choice, gone down a path that will be full of clashes of idealism, often with answers that are inherently circumspect.
And that, I suppose, is one of the main reasons I love running.
In a life of subjectivity and philosophy underlying every decision being made around me, running is one of the only saving graces that I can look at purely objectively.
It is, at ITS base, a measurement of distance and how fast you can traverse it. If you do it one second faster, one half of one percent quicker, you are better. Period.
A workout we do often is a 10 mile hard run.
The first time I broke 1 hour was the week after conference last year, when I ran 58:10ish. Since then, I had only broken an hour once more, running 59:20 during track season.
I ran 57:48 a couple weeks back, totally alone.
Running here, training 70 mile weeks with no real race in sight, totally alone, plays tricks on your training mentality. I FEEL stronger, but I don't have the luxury of constantly testing myself to see if that's true.
But, at its core, running is simply a measurement of distance and how fast you can traverse it.
And this time, I ran 5:48/mile for 10 miles, dipping under 5:50 pace for the first time.
Objectively speaking, I am faster today than I was yesterday.
And that's really calming in the face of a subjective life.
Politics is, at its core, a real-time game that plays out clashes in political philosophy. While successes can often be weighed and measured, many solutions and decisions are hard to quantify because we don't have a parallel universe where we know what would have happened if we had not implemented some policy and instead went with another.
Since my Junior year of high school I have known that I will work in the public sector, and with that decision has come studying and mastering the subjective. Internalizing arguments firsthand and creating those of my own.
I have, by choice, gone down a path that will be full of clashes of idealism, often with answers that are inherently circumspect.
And that, I suppose, is one of the main reasons I love running.
In a life of subjectivity and philosophy underlying every decision being made around me, running is one of the only saving graces that I can look at purely objectively.
It is, at ITS base, a measurement of distance and how fast you can traverse it. If you do it one second faster, one half of one percent quicker, you are better. Period.
A workout we do often is a 10 mile hard run.
The first time I broke 1 hour was the week after conference last year, when I ran 58:10ish. Since then, I had only broken an hour once more, running 59:20 during track season.
I ran 57:48 a couple weeks back, totally alone.
Running here, training 70 mile weeks with no real race in sight, totally alone, plays tricks on your training mentality. I FEEL stronger, but I don't have the luxury of constantly testing myself to see if that's true.
But, at its core, running is simply a measurement of distance and how fast you can traverse it.
And this time, I ran 5:48/mile for 10 miles, dipping under 5:50 pace for the first time.
Objectively speaking, I am faster today than I was yesterday.
And that's really calming in the face of a subjective life.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Ah, Nostalgia.
As I stepped out of the door to get rolling on my long run yesterday afternoon, I started up my Pandora as is tradition.
The song that came up first was 'Ghostwriter' by RJD2, and damn did that take me instantly back.
Flash to summer of 2005. I'm heading into freshman year of high school, and all I want to do is make the varsity team. I'm barely hanging on to the top guys on runs if at all (our #1 runner at the time was a 16:40 5k guy, so you get the picture of the 'top guys').
We run as a team 3 times a week, but the other 4 days are on our own. I have a simple concept - run as hard as I can during those non-team days and I'll beat everyone. I had JUST gotten an Ipod. A big fat 2nd generation thing with a click wheel. To me, it was god of all music. I find a nice 5 mile loop from my house with rolling hills, and just kill it to my hearts content. I find another 5.5 loop and I literally spend every day running one of those two as fast as my little 14 year old legs can carry me.
Why do I think of this now? Because the first song on that Ipod playlist that carried me through each run that summer was Ghostwriter, by RJD2.
I remember not liking running. I remember running because I was good at it, and wanted to prove to everyone that I could get a Varsity letter as a freshman (which, of course, was the MOST important thing at the time), and hating the solo runs.
I vomited at least 4 times a week that summer. My weakness has always been my aerobic capacity, and running 5 or 5.5 miles was honestly the absolute brink of what I could handle on a daily basis.
A week before our first meet, I ran the 5.5 mile loop at 6:59 pace, feeling fantastic. I could not believe it, you would've thought I had set a world record by my expression.
I made varsity the next week at our first race.
Flash back to Sunday, and all of the thoughts bounce around my head as I cruise along the tidal basin memorials in the DC sunset.
If you told me 6 years (and change) ago that I would be here, in DC, working full time and running 14+ mile runs as a typical Sunday, I would have thought you were crazy.
I don't know where I will be in 6 years. I don't know where my life will take me or who will and won't be in my life.
But I know I'll still be running. I know I'll still be finding those perfect sunset long run routes. I know I'll constantly be looking for ways to improve, to tweak my form, to absorb everything I can about this sport that I love.
As I finally finish up in the dark, humid, DC night I check my watch. 6:57 pace.
I wonder if my 6:15-6:25 pace base runs now will be my long run pace in 6 years.
I guess we'll see.
The song that came up first was 'Ghostwriter' by RJD2, and damn did that take me instantly back.
Flash to summer of 2005. I'm heading into freshman year of high school, and all I want to do is make the varsity team. I'm barely hanging on to the top guys on runs if at all (our #1 runner at the time was a 16:40 5k guy, so you get the picture of the 'top guys').
We run as a team 3 times a week, but the other 4 days are on our own. I have a simple concept - run as hard as I can during those non-team days and I'll beat everyone. I had JUST gotten an Ipod. A big fat 2nd generation thing with a click wheel. To me, it was god of all music. I find a nice 5 mile loop from my house with rolling hills, and just kill it to my hearts content. I find another 5.5 loop and I literally spend every day running one of those two as fast as my little 14 year old legs can carry me.
Why do I think of this now? Because the first song on that Ipod playlist that carried me through each run that summer was Ghostwriter, by RJD2.
I remember not liking running. I remember running because I was good at it, and wanted to prove to everyone that I could get a Varsity letter as a freshman (which, of course, was the MOST important thing at the time), and hating the solo runs.
I vomited at least 4 times a week that summer. My weakness has always been my aerobic capacity, and running 5 or 5.5 miles was honestly the absolute brink of what I could handle on a daily basis.
A week before our first meet, I ran the 5.5 mile loop at 6:59 pace, feeling fantastic. I could not believe it, you would've thought I had set a world record by my expression.
I made varsity the next week at our first race.
Flash back to Sunday, and all of the thoughts bounce around my head as I cruise along the tidal basin memorials in the DC sunset.
If you told me 6 years (and change) ago that I would be here, in DC, working full time and running 14+ mile runs as a typical Sunday, I would have thought you were crazy.
I don't know where I will be in 6 years. I don't know where my life will take me or who will and won't be in my life.
But I know I'll still be running. I know I'll still be finding those perfect sunset long run routes. I know I'll constantly be looking for ways to improve, to tweak my form, to absorb everything I can about this sport that I love.
As I finally finish up in the dark, humid, DC night I check my watch. 6:57 pace.
I wonder if my 6:15-6:25 pace base runs now will be my long run pace in 6 years.
I guess we'll see.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
The Lasse Viren 5k & Slow Growth
Every runner has their staple workout.
It may not be the workout you enjoy the most, or the workout you are best at, but is an accurate metric for your form at the moment. For me, it's what I call the 'Lasse Viren 5k' because to my knowledge he invented the workout. Basically, its in-&-out alternating 100m sprints for 5k on the track. I read about it when I was in high school, but never got around to doing it until the summer after my senior year.
The first time I did it, I had a 4:26 mile and a 16:17 to my name.
6/1/2010 - 18:30.
I remember it hurting a lot, the discomfort of changing gears every handful of seconds throwing me into oxygen debt quicker than I would like to admit, and struggled to make it through the whole distance.
6/18/2010 - 17:36
A couple weeks later and a couple weeks stronger. I wore flats this time and was mentally ready for The Pain.
Flash to a year later, starting to climb my mileage:
7/7/2011 - 17:19
My log:
Was 5:33 - 11:06 (5:33) - 16:40 (5:34), so damn consistent. Could've gone for another mile, but I didn't want to push it too hard. Still need to run miles this week. Felt smooth, pretty nice until last 8/1200m or so.
edit: Upon review the last time I did this was 2 weeks ago last year and I did it about 20sec slower, and I remember it hurting a lot more. Good sign.
A couple days ago I did it again:
9/10/2011 - 16:32
I knew 800m in that I was going to break 17, I passed it in 2:33 as my legs were just starting to warm up.
My stride is coming together nicely, I've been working on my lower core as that area being weak is what I've deduced is making me over-stride. I have the luxury of keeping some quality in my miles as I build, and I haven't lost the weight that I did last summer doing less miles than I am now, but I am managing to keep the power that I had during early track season. If I can keep that, AND build strength, I should be able to click this workout off in sub16 before the end of the semester.
Regardless of what I'm doing, I'm doing something right. And that's all I really care about.
It may not be the workout you enjoy the most, or the workout you are best at, but is an accurate metric for your form at the moment. For me, it's what I call the 'Lasse Viren 5k' because to my knowledge he invented the workout. Basically, its in-&-out alternating 100m sprints for 5k on the track. I read about it when I was in high school, but never got around to doing it until the summer after my senior year.
The first time I did it, I had a 4:26 mile and a 16:17 to my name.
6/1/2010 - 18:30.
I remember it hurting a lot, the discomfort of changing gears every handful of seconds throwing me into oxygen debt quicker than I would like to admit, and struggled to make it through the whole distance.
6/18/2010 - 17:36
A couple weeks later and a couple weeks stronger. I wore flats this time and was mentally ready for The Pain.
Flash to a year later, starting to climb my mileage:
7/7/2011 - 17:19
My log:
Was 5:33 - 11:06 (5:33) - 16:40 (5:34), so damn consistent. Could've gone for another mile, but I didn't want to push it too hard. Still need to run miles this week. Felt smooth, pretty nice until last 8/1200m or so.
edit: Upon review the last time I did this was 2 weeks ago last year and I did it about 20sec slower, and I remember it hurting a lot more. Good sign.
A couple days ago I did it again:
9/10/2011 - 16:32
I knew 800m in that I was going to break 17, I passed it in 2:33 as my legs were just starting to warm up.
My stride is coming together nicely, I've been working on my lower core as that area being weak is what I've deduced is making me over-stride. I have the luxury of keeping some quality in my miles as I build, and I haven't lost the weight that I did last summer doing less miles than I am now, but I am managing to keep the power that I had during early track season. If I can keep that, AND build strength, I should be able to click this workout off in sub16 before the end of the semester.
Regardless of what I'm doing, I'm doing something right. And that's all I really care about.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Sickness & Second Home
So maybe I overreacted. Maybe.
It turns out that I was actually quite sick. I woke up the next morning and couldn't get out of bed without getting extraordinarily dizzy. Took a couple days off. My head was so full that I actually broke out in an insane nosebleed on the way over here. Second of my life, and the most I've bled in a while.
Seriously, those things suck. But I digress.
Back in DC means back in humidity. I'll be glad when it gets colder. It also means that I'm in a permanent place for a while and need to get my workouts in. I was referred to Georgetown Running Co. that has workouts on Wednesdays and that they are actually legit runners, so it looks like my week will consist of a couple runs with them, which will be nice.
Back in my second home in DC, and aside from the weather I'm really loving the city. The problem is that the weather is a total deal breaker for any long term living situation.
So I sit here, looking ahead at a schedule of 70-80 mile weeks for 5 months, trying not to think how shitty it will be in this weather. Hopefully it will cool down ASAP.
The work will get done regardless, for no other reason than it has to get done.
It turns out that I was actually quite sick. I woke up the next morning and couldn't get out of bed without getting extraordinarily dizzy. Took a couple days off. My head was so full that I actually broke out in an insane nosebleed on the way over here. Second of my life, and the most I've bled in a while.
Seriously, those things suck. But I digress.
Back in DC means back in humidity. I'll be glad when it gets colder. It also means that I'm in a permanent place for a while and need to get my workouts in. I was referred to Georgetown Running Co. that has workouts on Wednesdays and that they are actually legit runners, so it looks like my week will consist of a couple runs with them, which will be nice.
Back in my second home in DC, and aside from the weather I'm really loving the city. The problem is that the weather is a total deal breaker for any long term living situation.
So I sit here, looking ahead at a schedule of 70-80 mile weeks for 5 months, trying not to think how shitty it will be in this weather. Hopefully it will cool down ASAP.
The work will get done regardless, for no other reason than it has to get done.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Fuck Running
Just fuck it. I just finished a 9.5 miler in 65 minutes. 65??? That's 6:5x pace. I ran that for 20 miles a few weeks ago and now my heart rate was pushing 190 finishing this stupid excuse of a run.
I was dying out there. I was landing on my forefoot like I was in a god damn 800m race. I didn't even know that was possible running fucking 6:50s.
I'm training like I'm aiming to run a 4:35 mile, not a 3:50 1500. I'm sitting here, 5 months away from my first race feeling like I haven't gotten anywhere running 70+ weeks. My legs felt fine, even though I ran 200s yesterday. My chest was destroyed. It felt like a hard tempo run and it was slow as shit.
I stumbled into my house, downed a gatorade, grabbed 3 Fat Tire's and sat in a cold shower, drinking. For half an hour. I looked like something out of Black Swan or some shit.
Fuck this. I wish I were 60 and unable to run so I could watch Olympians and remember those days when you just feel like nothing can stop you, and forget about these fucking days.
After Sunday I'm taking next week at 20 miles MAYBE.
I was dying out there. I was landing on my forefoot like I was in a god damn 800m race. I didn't even know that was possible running fucking 6:50s.
I'm training like I'm aiming to run a 4:35 mile, not a 3:50 1500. I'm sitting here, 5 months away from my first race feeling like I haven't gotten anywhere running 70+ weeks. My legs felt fine, even though I ran 200s yesterday. My chest was destroyed. It felt like a hard tempo run and it was slow as shit.
I stumbled into my house, downed a gatorade, grabbed 3 Fat Tire's and sat in a cold shower, drinking. For half an hour. I looked like something out of Black Swan or some shit.
Fuck this. I wish I were 60 and unable to run so I could watch Olympians and remember those days when you just feel like nothing can stop you, and forget about these fucking days.
After Sunday I'm taking next week at 20 miles MAYBE.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Upper Bound
The first week of August, my team has what it calls the 'long weekend,' in which we all are supposed to run the longest run of our lives to date.
For me the longest run was during the previous summer's long weekend, a distance of 17 miles. But thinking about it this week, I got the idea in my head to go for 20. My long runs this summer have been getting longer and longer, and I've handled them rather well, so I took my favorite 10miler, and simply turned it into an out-and-back 20miler.
I strolled out of my house and through the first 5 miles. Long Slow Distance runs (LSDs) are pretty easy for most of the way, it's just the time you are physically running that kills you in the long run (PUN).
The first 10miles peeled away with minimal effort. I lazily checked my watch every couple of miles, unconcerned with pace, just rolling along the long, soft hills of the northwest.
You know what, I don't usually like these runs but it's a perfect 75 degree day, I'm along the lake, the Blue Angels are out, this is fun
I reach the end of the first 10 miles without discomfort. 1:09:30. Not a bad pace. After a few minutes of stretching and buying bottled water, I turn and start plodding back the way I came, a plastic water bottle in each hand.
The second part of my run covered 10-16. These 6 miles I was growing anxious. I took in water every 10 minutes or so, and by 14.5 the first bottle was gone, a not-insignificant part ON me rather than IN me.
10-16miles was a completely separate part of the run because I was slowly getting Jello legged. I wasn't really that tired, but I felt it coming.
16-20 is its own part, because these 4 miles were absolute hell.
Mile 16-17 was entirely uphill. As I crested the bike-path on-ramp back onto Mercer Island, my hamstrings were on fire. They did NOT like the distance. On a dime I went from Jello legged to extremely sore and tired, and I still had to get through this last half hour.
The winding road from 17-20 which I usually know so well seemed like foreign soil. My pace didn't falter, but that was simply out of habit over the last 2 hours rather than willpower. If my pace changed, my stride changed, and if my stride changed.....it hurt.
17-18 felt long.
18-19 felt like an eternity. 19-20 was a desperate attempt to outrun my pain.
Fumbling inside my door, I tried to consume all I could that would benefit my recovery. Sweet potatoes, Gatorade, avocado, etc.
There is nothing worse than knowing you HAVE to eat when your body just doesn't want it. I spent 5 minutes chewing avocado, and that shit is just mush to begin with.
I sit here now, 4 hours removed from finishing that run, staring at my calves twitching like they're having some sort of seizure.
Tomorrow is going to be a rough day.
For me the longest run was during the previous summer's long weekend, a distance of 17 miles. But thinking about it this week, I got the idea in my head to go for 20. My long runs this summer have been getting longer and longer, and I've handled them rather well, so I took my favorite 10miler, and simply turned it into an out-and-back 20miler.
I strolled out of my house and through the first 5 miles. Long Slow Distance runs (LSDs) are pretty easy for most of the way, it's just the time you are physically running that kills you in the long run (PUN).
The first 10miles peeled away with minimal effort. I lazily checked my watch every couple of miles, unconcerned with pace, just rolling along the long, soft hills of the northwest.
You know what, I don't usually like these runs but it's a perfect 75 degree day, I'm along the lake, the Blue Angels are out, this is fun
I reach the end of the first 10 miles without discomfort. 1:09:30. Not a bad pace. After a few minutes of stretching and buying bottled water, I turn and start plodding back the way I came, a plastic water bottle in each hand.
The second part of my run covered 10-16. These 6 miles I was growing anxious. I took in water every 10 minutes or so, and by 14.5 the first bottle was gone, a not-insignificant part ON me rather than IN me.
10-16miles was a completely separate part of the run because I was slowly getting Jello legged. I wasn't really that tired, but I felt it coming.
16-20 is its own part, because these 4 miles were absolute hell.
Mile 16-17 was entirely uphill. As I crested the bike-path on-ramp back onto Mercer Island, my hamstrings were on fire. They did NOT like the distance. On a dime I went from Jello legged to extremely sore and tired, and I still had to get through this last half hour.
The winding road from 17-20 which I usually know so well seemed like foreign soil. My pace didn't falter, but that was simply out of habit over the last 2 hours rather than willpower. If my pace changed, my stride changed, and if my stride changed.....it hurt.
17-18 felt long.
18-19 felt like an eternity. 19-20 was a desperate attempt to outrun my pain.
Fumbling inside my door, I tried to consume all I could that would benefit my recovery. Sweet potatoes, Gatorade, avocado, etc.
There is nothing worse than knowing you HAVE to eat when your body just doesn't want it. I spent 5 minutes chewing avocado, and that shit is just mush to begin with.
I sit here now, 4 hours removed from finishing that run, staring at my calves twitching like they're having some sort of seizure.
Tomorrow is going to be a rough day.
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