Aug. 20th: Weights - 5x5 bench, deadlift, squat.
Aug. 21st: Off.
Aug. 22nd: 3 miles, 500 vert, short Shanahan loop.
Aug. 23rd: 3 miles, 500 vert, short Shanahan loop.
Aug. 24th: Off, travel.
Aug. 25th: 6 miles, 0 vert, running along the beach in Florida.
Aug. 26th: Off.
Aug. 27th: 6 miles, 0 vert, running along the beach in Florida.
Totals: 18 miles, 1000 feet vert. Flat as a pancake.
I sort of used this week to shake out the rust and see how everything feels. My calves and Achilles are still a little tight, but that's a perennial issue. I'm just going to settle for the simple fix and cut a notch in my shoes' heels. I wish major shoe manufacturers made their shoes without heel counters - they do nothing for stability, right, or comfort, and only aggravate the bursa in your heel.
Next week I'll continue to build up a solid schedule. Once I get to 5-6 days of solid running again, I'll start ticking up the mileage. Baby steps.
Monday, August 28, 2017
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Restart
This year didn't go so well.
It's pretty easy to diagnose the cause - I was working 60-80 hour weeks for the past 6 months, and nearly that amount in the preceeding 12, trying to finish my Ph.D. That left precious little time to train, to take care of nutrition, and to keep my head in the game of running. There were nights I'd go to bed at 9, set my alarm for midnight to check a model run, and then get up at 5 again to check another run. And I'd work from breakfast till bedtime, only rarely getting in more than the occasional 7 miler. I became accustomed to the feeling of heavy eyelids for most of the day, to looking ahead 24 hours instead of months.
The result: Bighorn and Bigfoot DNF's. The Bighorn DNF was because my head just was not in the game, and I made a number of hydration errors that wrecked me by Jaws. Bigfoot because I went into the race tired, lost focus at night, and took a very nasty fall that left me with a host of injuries. My most recent races, I've felt like a stranger in a strange land, struggling with things that used to be second nature. In short, I've fallen into a slump. A big slump.
I stopped tracking mileage a couple of years ago because I let training erode in favor of work. I also let it erode to spend some time with family and friends. This saga has made me realize that I value these things more than running. I see that as admirable. But I didn't have the foresight to just red shirt the summer and clear my schedule. That's not admirable. It's something I'm always bad at - I'll keep loading my plate until it's overflowing and has fallen on the floor.
I start my first "real" job in Boulder on September 1st. 40 hours per week sounds like heaven. Not carrying the shadow of a dissertation sounds like heaven. I'll be able to run to work, up and over a mountain, if I so choose. I see this as a huge opportunity to return to serious, consistent training, and I've already scoped out a race schedule next year to help make that happen.
I'll use Hagg and Badger as a stimulus to build a solid base of mileage over the next 6 months. They're tough, but not, say, Bighorn or Bigfoot tough, and I think they'll help me rebuild my confidence and regain the competitive stride I used to have. I think you can run too few races in a year - if they're sparse, they creep up on you, so you arrive under trained, and because you haven't tested your strategy and body in a recent effort, you spend half of the race getting into the zone.
I think it's easy to forget that we need to train, really train. We train hard for a few years and find ourselves improving. Then, the training sloughs a little to no ill effect (and maybe even to a benefit, as we show up even better rested to races). But eventually, it comes crashing down. Results are talent plus training, and talent can only carry you so far. At the end of the day, you only have a satisfying race if you put in the time in training.
With so much accumulated knowledge and mileage, I don't feel the uncertainty I would feel if I was beginning to run high mileage weeks for the first time. I've been there. I remember. And now that my body and mind feel one again, it's what I want. And what I'll do.
The sting of failure in races, the ghosts of regret over miles not run - I think these are enough to light the fire inside.
It's pretty easy to diagnose the cause - I was working 60-80 hour weeks for the past 6 months, and nearly that amount in the preceeding 12, trying to finish my Ph.D. That left precious little time to train, to take care of nutrition, and to keep my head in the game of running. There were nights I'd go to bed at 9, set my alarm for midnight to check a model run, and then get up at 5 again to check another run. And I'd work from breakfast till bedtime, only rarely getting in more than the occasional 7 miler. I became accustomed to the feeling of heavy eyelids for most of the day, to looking ahead 24 hours instead of months.
The result: Bighorn and Bigfoot DNF's. The Bighorn DNF was because my head just was not in the game, and I made a number of hydration errors that wrecked me by Jaws. Bigfoot because I went into the race tired, lost focus at night, and took a very nasty fall that left me with a host of injuries. My most recent races, I've felt like a stranger in a strange land, struggling with things that used to be second nature. In short, I've fallen into a slump. A big slump.
I stopped tracking mileage a couple of years ago because I let training erode in favor of work. I also let it erode to spend some time with family and friends. This saga has made me realize that I value these things more than running. I see that as admirable. But I didn't have the foresight to just red shirt the summer and clear my schedule. That's not admirable. It's something I'm always bad at - I'll keep loading my plate until it's overflowing and has fallen on the floor.
I start my first "real" job in Boulder on September 1st. 40 hours per week sounds like heaven. Not carrying the shadow of a dissertation sounds like heaven. I'll be able to run to work, up and over a mountain, if I so choose. I see this as a huge opportunity to return to serious, consistent training, and I've already scoped out a race schedule next year to help make that happen.
I'll use Hagg and Badger as a stimulus to build a solid base of mileage over the next 6 months. They're tough, but not, say, Bighorn or Bigfoot tough, and I think they'll help me rebuild my confidence and regain the competitive stride I used to have. I think you can run too few races in a year - if they're sparse, they creep up on you, so you arrive under trained, and because you haven't tested your strategy and body in a recent effort, you spend half of the race getting into the zone.
I think it's easy to forget that we need to train, really train. We train hard for a few years and find ourselves improving. Then, the training sloughs a little to no ill effect (and maybe even to a benefit, as we show up even better rested to races). But eventually, it comes crashing down. Results are talent plus training, and talent can only carry you so far. At the end of the day, you only have a satisfying race if you put in the time in training.
With so much accumulated knowledge and mileage, I don't feel the uncertainty I would feel if I was beginning to run high mileage weeks for the first time. I've been there. I remember. And now that my body and mind feel one again, it's what I want. And what I'll do.
The sting of failure in races, the ghosts of regret over miles not run - I think these are enough to light the fire inside.
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