I have been too busy to write a recap of last weekend’s Half-Ironman Tri in Racine and I’m still too busy (and I’m hardly exaggerating) but I thought I better write a quick note in case anyone is wondering how it went.
Well, the swim was cancelled (reportedly 51 degrees) so I still can’t say I have completed a Half-Ironman (when I signed up for one some twenty years ago, the swim was cancelled that day too) (thanks, Lake Michigan!)
I was disappointed, but what could I do? They set us off two at a time, the professionals first, and then the rest of us in order of our race numbers and I was 1542 out of 1600 so I spent an hour just watching people take off before I got to go. My goal for the bike was around 3 hours and I did it in just over (though my GPS had the distance measured at only 55 miles). The course was flat but it was very windy, so I was happy enough. Some people flew by me in the first third of the ride but I passed quite a few others on the back half, especially on the uphills and long stretches into the wind. I was pleased, especially because my longest training ride had been only 45 miles with a 15 minute break at halfway.
My upper shin bone had been bothering me for over a week before the race so most of race week I was limping around pretty good and not even sure I could run. I iced it aggressively and used half a tube of Arnica gel and thankfully it recovered. I felt good off the bike and though I didn’t count, I passed hundreds and hundreds of people on the run, which made the 13 miles go by pretty quickly. I averaged 7:25 per mile, right around where I hoped I might be. I felt pretty good on the two-loop course except on the two short uphills near the start of each loop. I didn’t check my splits, just kept looking ahead but my GPS had me at just over 7 minute pace for the first half and then slower for the second. This makes sense as I slowed to take my gels, stopped and walk to drink a few glasses of water, and even ducked into the Port-a-Potty just before ten miles (it was a cool day, great for running, and I obviously had no dehydration issues). After that stop, I felt good enough to push to the finish but ran out gas and had a rough stretch between 11-12. But I felt better towards the end and was able to finish strong and enjoy it too.
Recovery week has been okay (though, as I said, I’ve been busy). I took a couple days off, have done a few runs without much of that shin pain, and survived my nephew’s Bachelor Party on Saturday, a day that started with paintball in the woods at 9 a.m. and ended in a downtown bar at 2 a.m. (Last Uncle Standing!).
All right, got to go. Things to do, places to go, people to see…..
Ugh, two bad races in a row (bad and then worse). I’d rather keep the bad news to myself but I promised races and recaps so here you go:
The Bad Race: Originally I’d planned to run the Lincoln Park Run for the Zoo 10K June 4, but my legs were feeling heavy all that week so I decided to skip it. They were feeling a bit better the next week so I signed up for The Run for the Pig 5K in Milwaukee June 10. On the drive up from Chicago I was optimistic, but during the warmup I felt sluggish. No matter, at 8:30 it was time to go. On the first flat half mile, I felt okay. For the next two miles the course was all up and down, nothing too steep or long, and all I knew was that I was working very hard. After the mile marker (6:12, though I suspect that marker may have come too soon) I was all alone in 6th or 7th place (obviously a small race). On every uphill I just kept telling myself to pump my arms and get to the top and on every downhill I’d try to recover before I had to start punching up the next hill. I was able to find a better rhythm on the final flat half mile, but was too spent to really speed up and I ran right at my limit all the way and finished in about 19:50. It was humbling to see that time on the clock as I pushed to the finish line, but after I caught my breath I told myself: ah, it’s not that bad. I hadn’t felt good, I was undertrained on hills, and I hadn’t been racing, so it made sense. And I was really aiming for the Steamboat Classic 4 miler in Peoria the next week. That course fit me perfectly. I’d always run well there.
The Worse Race: In the short term, I recovered well from the bad race, actually going for a 1 mile swim in the lake later that morning then meeting with friends for a hot, windy bike ride in the afternoon and slogging my way through a steamy 10-miler the next day. Early the next week I was feeling a little dull so after some moderate effort 400’s on the track on Wednesday, I took off completely the 2 days so my legs would feel good for the race. But on my warmup in Peoria, I was heavy again. It was a muggy, humid morning so when I got to the start line, a gloomy 3 miles warmup behind me, I was already drenched in sweat and didn’t even do any strides—I just wanted to stand still for those last five minutes and hoped my body would generate some energy. Things were not looking good.
But when the race started, I told myself it was still on, my goal of 25 flat, or 6:15 per mile. No matter what had happened in the past, there was no reason I couldn’t do it. The Steamboat is a big race with a lot of fast starters so I just found myself a spot in the pack and tried to find a good rhythm. I told myself to hold back a bit on the first mile and then start racing, but by the time I got to the mile mark, in about 6:22, I was already dragging. Still, that’s not terrible, I told myself. The first mile included the uphill start and I knew if I could maintain close to that pace for the next two miles, I’d get to finish with the fast downhill last mile.
On mile 2 things really started falling apart. I didn’t realize it at the time, focused as I was, working on good turnover, staying on top of my breathing, maintaining good posture, all the things I knew were key when running got hard. I passed a few people, but others passed me. As we all huffed and puffed our way up, I was struck by the odd assortment of runners around me. There were a few that looked like runners (like I hoped I also looked), but one guy just ahead of me for most of that mile was thick and leaned back and had a comically short stride. How can this guy be ahead of me? I thought. He is moving so slowly, so inefficiently, how am I barely inching by him?
After that a young girl went traipsing by on my right. She looked to be 11 or 12, long and skinny, and I know some kids are pretty fast and serious runners, but the look on her face wasn’t one of determination, it was more like she was asking herself, am I doing this right? Am I going too fast? Should I be passing all these people? Lucky girl, I thought then watched her disappear into the crowd of runners ahead of me.
Another guy passed right by me after that. He was wearing sunglasses and a t-shirt. He also had really nice hair, right in place and his face showed no effort. He looked like he was steering his boat into its slip after a day on the lake. He seemed about my age, but instead of a grizzled vet who’s been running all his life, looked more like a guy who’d been sitting around the night before, heard about the race, went to Target to buy some running clothes, and decided to see what it was all about. He left me behind too.
At this point I didn’t pause to consider how I fit in with these other runners. I was taking it all in, but staying focused like a real runner. Just before the 2 mile mark there’s a short uphill and then a 180 degree turn, both of which required all my concentration. But no worries, I told myself, all that matters is the 2-mile split. 12:45 would be great. 12:50 would be acceptable. Hopefully, not much slower than that.
But as I approached the clock, I saw it was already over 13 minutes. By the time I passed it, I think it may have been 13:10, which meant I’d run nearly a 7-minute mile. A 7-minute mile. In a race! And I’d been working so hard! Now there may have been a good reason—worn out from hard training, the dew point too high, something in the air contributing to my asthma, but I have a “no excuses” policy during races, which means if I feel good enough to sign up, to start the race, I tell myself I should be able to run at least pretty well.
Because I was not allowing any excuses, I had to face the facts: I was straining, but moving very slowly. There was also no indication this was going to change, so I decided right there, just a few steps past the two mile clock, that it was futile, that I could never run fast again, and that my running career was once-and-for-all over.
So I retired. Yes, there in the middle of the race, I retired from racing. I realized this was funny, in a pathetic sort of way, but that’s what happened. I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself. I was mostly angry—why couldn’t I run faster? And I was also ashamed–I’d spent a lot of time training for and thinking about the race. For the couple days beforehand I’d been mentally preparing myself, excited about the race, visualizing a good one. But all of a sudden I realized it was so selfish and pointless. I began to think of all the other more important things I could’ve been thinking about, could have done with my time. I mean, all for nothing? To just be disappointed in myself? What was the point?
Over the next mile I wondered what I’d do with my life. Obviously, never race again, but would I run at all? Maybe. I’d probably spend more time biking and swimming. Maybe I’d even play basketball again, as preserving my knee for running would no longer be important. But besides what I’d do, who would I be? I didn’t know. I’ve stopped running for stretches before, but this seemed different. More permanent. It was all going to be behind me. I started to reminisce about workouts and races I’d run. I thought about my friends who were still running and knew they’d be disappointed in me. Sorry, guys, I thought. I tried, but I just don’t have it anymore.
Meanwhile, I was running down Madison Avenue in Peoria, another mile at just under seven minute pace, though I wasn’t thinking about running anymore, my form or my breathing, I was just waiting for the race to be over. And I could hardly believe it, but no one was passing me. When we got onto the last mile of the race, I noticed that a number of people ahead of me were actually coming back. Not that I cared. I wasn’t racing anymore. But then I spied the guy in the Target t-shirt about 10 seconds ahead and moving slowly and I said, well, I’ll probably catch that guy without even trying, so at least there’s that.
I knew it was pitiful, one last grab at pride, but I didn’t want to finish my last race watching him run. When I caught him with about a half mile to go, the old racing instincts kicked in and I went by him pretty hard (if you are going to pass someone, go by decisively, to get a little gap before the other runner realizes what is happening). When we turned for the downhill finish I just let my stride open up. I passed a few people without trying, just because I have always been good on the downhills, but didn’t go after any others like I normally would. In fact, when I saw my lovely perfect wife and my son standing on the street with just over a quarter mile to go and I steered myself close to them and proclaimed, “This is my last race ever!”
They’d known I was aiming for 25 minutes and surely they’d been standing there wondering for the last two minutes where I was. When I got across the finish line (a couple people sprinting past me on the final flat stretch—I didn’t fight them at all), I paused to take it in, that scene in the chute just after a race, one last time: people smiling, or gasping, hunched over hands-on-knees, giving each other fist bumps and high fives. I’ll never be here again, I thought as I grabbed a bottle of water, walked back to find my wife and son, and repeated my proclamation, “Never again.”
As soon I said this, I thought maybe I shouldn’t have been so cavalier about it, not because I didn’t mean it, but because I didn’t want to serve as a bad example to my son, who had been injured for exactly one year (hamstring tendinitis), had missed both cross country and track seasons for his sophomore year of college, and was just starting to get back into a regular running routine. Even though our situations were very different, I didn’t want him to think quitting was an option. So I began to downplay it, talked about other things, asked him about watching the race, how did the 18 minute 4 milers look when they went flying by? We talked about him doing the race next year. “And I can watch you,” I said.
Instead of pretending to be a runner, I thought to myself. Then I told myself not to be depressed, but just move on. Instead of my traditional post-race run back up to my wife’s parents’ house (which would have been important if my weekly mileage mattered any more), I walked those two miles with my lovely, perfect wife trying to convince her I was really done with running. But I don’t think she realized how poorly I’d run. I’d run 32 minutes for 8K in April and I had stepped up my running since then. I could see no reason why I’d be slower, which I took to mean only one thing: I just am–I’m too old and too slow. Still, I don’t think she quite believed me. And to be fair, it is hard to stay retired. Michael Jordan couldn’t do it, Michael Phelps, Rocky Balboa. Of course, they all had good performances left in them. I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case for me.
Anyway, I realize these have got to be some of most depressing race recaps ever, but what can I say? I’m giving you the truth. However, my “retirement” from running has been pretty active. In fact, I’ve been training even more because I am doing a half-ironman (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run) on July 16th in Racine, one month earlier than I had planned to do one. I moved this up to July because on the same weekend as the triathlon in August, I’m doing a 100 mile ride with my biking crew (Race the Lake) and we’ve done this together 3 of the last 4 years and I want to keep the tradition going.
Doing this 70.3 race in July means I’ll be much less prepared for it than I’d hoped. I was thinking of time goals when I was planning to race in August, but since it’s moved up a month, I just want to finish it. I’m sure I can. It’s just a matter of how hard will it be and how long will it take. And why am I doing it? Well, I’ve been wanting to for some time and this summer, well, for reasons I’ll get into at a later date, will work out best.
I’ve got more to say but have gone on too long already and it’s been all bad news so I’m going to let you off the hook. If you are wondering why it took me so long to recap these races, it’s because I’ve been so busy. Besides a bit of work, we just moved into a new house and all the packing, moving, and unpacking has sucked up lots of time. Doing all that and trying to train for the triathlon has kept me too busy to sit down at my computer and send out my dispatches. But I’ve been feeling pretty good lately, had some good runs, I actually did a 2 hour run yesterday in the heat, my longest run in years, and it wasn’t that awful. My knee hasn’t been an issue at all. So let’s all hope these next two weeks of training go well, I survive the Racine 70.3, and then check back in with you with some better news. As always, thanks for reading!
So just an update on my training as I move into summer and my big, big plans. That means no sweet or sad, aww-shucks, human-interest angles this time around. Trust me, there will be plenty of that coming soon. And lots of posts—because this is it (I’m saying it), the summer of my comeback (finally).
Winter went as well as could be expected, and though I had modest goals, I accomplished them (I think this will be part of my new strategy: set attainable goals, meet them, and then move on to the next, more difficult one–instead of drawing that line in the sand (like a 5 minute mile or a 18 minute 5K) that is so far away I can’t even see it).
January to April I averaged 27 miles of running a week with an average weekly workout time of 7.25 hours (so roughly half my training hours were swimming, weights, and a little biking). My goals at the start of the year were to get to April with my knee feeling good, stay in reasonable running shape, and do lots of swimming to prepare for the Illinois Masters State swim meet and get some best times there. I paid close attention to my times during swim workouts and made a conscious decision not to pay attention to my running pace, even on the days I went faster than usual, doing a fartlek or strides or just running harder than usual. I went just on feel, knowing that once the swim season was over I’d have plenty of time to focus on it.
One week before the State swim meet, I ran the Shamrock Shuffle 8K in Chicago. I signed up for this mid-winter to make sure I stayed focused enough on running and because I knew it would be a good place to check my fitness before I started getting more serious about my speed. Because I hadn’t been timing any of my workouts, I had no idea how fast (or maybe slow is a better word) I would run. I thought anywhere between 31 and 34 was possible, though 31 would’ve been a delightful surprise and 34 may have been the end of me (as in I would’ve been too depressed to carry on). But I ran exactly 32 minutes, which I was happy enough with, and more importantly, really enjoyed the race. It’s a big one with lots of packs and people to run with, the weather was great, and I felt pretty good until the last mile when my legs got a little heavy and a few people passed me going up Mount Roosevelt, but it was loads of fun and I know I can go a lot faster once I start to get more deliberate about my speed.
I actually ran 8 miles home from Grant Park after that race, which gave me 16 for the day, and I was sore in various ways afterwards. I had planned to do a little light running that week, though my main focus was going to be tapering and sharpening up for the swim meet the next weekend, but once I got to Thursday and still hadn’t run, I decided to take the whole week off. Crazy! But I figured I’d swim better and would be refreshed for my next phase of run training.
The swim meet went well. I am now a proud (but completely non-essential) member of the 3-time Illinois Masters State Championships swim team! I did a total of 8 races in two days (including relays) and got best times in a number (but not all) events. Swim races are intense, especially the sprints. They go by in blur of effort and pain. I think I’ve become not a bad swimmer for a runner, but I’m still slow when compared to real swimmers, and that will never change. Still, the meet was a blast and swimming is great training as my heart and lungs are always working hard, hard, hard when I’m in the pool.
My plan was to get right into more serious run training, but I had an unexpected lag, just from life taking up too much time. To be specific, my lovely, perfect wife and I went to France (Paris and Normandy) with her parents and met up with her brother and his wife and family. A great adventure, but I did miss some days of running. Then work got busier than usual and I had a number of early morning meetings and long days. Finally, we are in the process of buying a house and selling our condo and that’s taken up a bit of time and energy too. So, over the last 5 weeks while I’ve averaged 29 miles a week, which is not bad, I’ve done only 5.5 hours of workouts per week, way down from earlier in the year.
But the semester is over and this last week has been much better (I think I’ll get in over 35 miles running and 10 hours total). My knee has been relatively sound. I hadn’t needed a cortisone shot since October (7 months–good work, knee!) but I’d been feeling more frequent discomfort up steps and sometimes just when twisting so I got another shot last week and everything feels strong now. And if you are reading this blog because you’ve also got knee trouble, the two other things which may have helped are icing the knee frequently, especially after runs, and taking Celadrin (both in capsule and lotion form). This is in addition to the other supplements I take. Who knows which, if any of my methods, are working, but I feel good now so I will just keep doing it all.
For the summer, I’ve got a few races planned already. I am probably going to do the Lincoln Park Run for the Zoo 10K on June 4, just as another see-where-I-am race. I am definitely going to run the Steamboat Classic 4 miler in Peoria June 17th, and for my big goal for the summer I am planning to do the Steelhead 70.3 Half-Ironman Triathlon in Michigan on August 13th (I’m a little hesitant to sign up for this as I want to be sure my knee can handle it, and it costs $300!) but I’m pretty sure I’ll register soon. Hopefully I will add in some other low-key races over the summer if all goes well and then ideally a couple faster races in the fall and don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell you all about them. So check back if you are curious. And have a good summer yourself!
Earlier this year, the parking on our streets in Chicago became “permit-only” from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. This was great because there are music venues in the neighborhood and there have been times when I’d gotten home late when there were concerts and I had to park nearly a mile from home. My lovely perfect wife has an annual sticker with permit parking privileges. My situation is more complicated. Though I live in Chicago full-time, I still work in Wisconsin, my car has Wisconsin plates, and I don’t have a city sticker with the permit. However, I do have a glove box full of nightly guest stickers I can fill out, place on my windshield, and park on the streets close to home. Now even though I’ve got a big supply, I have, on occasion, peeled off the sticker already affixed to my windshield, written over the old date with a new one, slapped it back on the glass, and parked for another night. Now I don’t know if I do this because of my frugal nature, to try to get away with something, or as a form of protest, but I do it. Not every time, but whenever the numbers seem adaptable to change, I figure, why not? And I’ve parked overnight like this many times with no penalty.
So last night when I got home around 6 p.m., I pulled the sticker off, changed the date from 12/21 to 12/30 (we’d been out of town for the holidays and there are some blocks where permits are not needed—if you are wondering how I’d gone 9 days without a fresh sticker) and didn’t think about it. Later we went to a friend’s house for her birthday (my wife drove) and as we were getting home around midnight, we drove past my car and I saw it—a parking ticket! On my car! I couldn’t believe it. I can be a real stoic about things, but when it comes to parking tickets, they feel like a personal affront. I don’t know why this is, but I was justifiably (I thought) upset.
We pulled over and I jumped out of the car to grab the ticket besmirching my what-should-have-been-clear windshield. But before I did I snapped a picture that showed both the ticket and my valid nightly pass in place. There’d been a concert at the Riviera Ballroom and I figured there had been some cars parked illegally. But I was also sure mine was not one of them. Clearly, I thought, someone had made a mistake. In fact, I was so sure of myself by the time I’d carried it upstairs and got ready for bed, I’d put it out of my mind, unusual for a parking ticket, which often leaves me stewing. In the morning, I’d simply write a letter protesting the ticket, send it in with my photographic proof, and that would be it.
I didn’t even open the envelope to read the details on the ticket until this morning but when I did, I saw the violation: “Reused Residential Parking Permit.” I couldn’t believe it, but they had me. It wasn’t a mistake–they accused me of exactly what I had done. I looked at the photo I’d taken the night before—the changed date looked pretty good, and I’d gotten by with worse in the past, but there was no denying that it had been changed and I was guilty as charged. It felt anger again, but now it was towards myself. I’d tried to beat the system, to cheat it, but the system couldn’t be beat.
What does any of this have to do with my running? Well, I feel like maybe I’ve been trying to “beat the system” with that too. I was going to write a post today marking the 4 year anniversary of my microfracture surgery and ruminating on the fact that though I’ve made progress and fought the good fight over the last four years, I’ve definitely hit a plateau.
I just looked over my post from last year at this time and not much has changed. My “best workouts of the year” were pretty much the same for both 2015 and 2016. Neither year was terrible, and I’m not getting worse, but I want to improve.
I looked back over my training log and found that in 2016 I ran 1,213 miles, or an average of 23 miles a week. I say I’m trying to beat the system because there’s no way I can run the times I want to on such low mileage. Even though I did lots of other workouts-swimming, biking, weights, et cetera, there’s nothing like running to get better at running. It’s very simple that way. Of course, this is different than trying to beat the permit parking system—I have plenty of stickers and could put up a fresh, new one every night. I’ve got no excuses. It’s not as easy with running. My knee is not fresh, new, or strong enough to run without consequences. I just can’t run like I used to. Sometimes this makes me feel despondent, like the plateau I’m on is leading to a steep cliff, a Lover’s Leap, and I’m just going to over the edge and give up the chase for good.
Luckily, this feeling has always passed and I’ve believed the plateau will lead to something more, something better. And looking back over my log, I was surprised to find I did have an 11 week stretch from mid-April to the end of June when I averaged 35 miles a week, including 3 weeks when I reached 40 miles. That was with cross-training and really my knee was no worse for the wear (which means it was still a problem, but not any more or less than other times of the year). I didn’t get a chance to see what kind of shape I was in because the only race I did was a triathlon and the 10K course was short so I don’t know how fast I ran and the next day we embarked on our summer of travel.
But 35 miles a week doesn’t seem too bad. It’s not 60, which I’d guess would be ideal for me, but it’s a substantial increase from 23. And I think at 35 miles per week, making the most of those miles, of course, with good workouts and a good training plan, and some cross-training, well, that might be enough to get me back to some kind of racing shape. I’ve never been one to really make New Year’s resolutions, but I’ve just decided I’m setting a goal of 35 miles a week for 2017.
It might be better to have a race goal, a particular time, and I’ve written about some of those already, but I think this will be better because if I can handle that mileage, I’ll discover whether or not this plateau I’m on can lead to greater heights and I can start doing races again and set time goals. Or I’ll discover I need to just settle in and enjoy the view from where I’m at, with the times and racing success I want in sight but out of reach.
This would means giving up racing goals for good and just running for the sake of it, and maybe shuffling through some triathlons with the rest of the non-runners. Obviously, I’m hoping for the former, to complete this comeback, and I’m always pretty optimistic, but the latter would not be the worst thing in the world. It would be better than never running again, which is what the surgeon told me was probably going to be the case when I came out of surgery four years ago today.
And even if I can’t average 35 miles a week, get back in racing shape, and have everything in life make sense again, I resolve I will not re-use any of my parking stickers in 2017 (well, I could probably change an 11 to a 14 or a 17 without arousing suspicion, or a 21 to a 24…).
But, whatever happens, on to 2017. Happy New Year!
Sure, I’ve missed out on enough running days this October to last a lifetime, but it’s all good. Yes, each runner I biked past on the lakefront trail this month put a little stab in my heart, but I’m not complaining. Because it’s fall, glorious fall, and with every run I get to enjoy, all the bad feelings go away and I thank the running gods (and my doctor) that I can get out and lose myself in the crisp air, sunshine, falling leaves, and all the glory of the season. I feel optimistic for what is to come, because we all know anything can happen, I mean, the Cubs are in the World Series, which just goes to show (again) that good things come to those who wait, and not just wait, but wait and plan and look ever forward and believe.
So at my last report I was coming off of my amazing summer of travel and feeling pretty good (knee, legs, fitness, et cetera) but not sure what kind of shape I was really in. I hoped, as we all hope, and has actually happened for me in the past, to find myself somehow stronger and faster than expected (you know how it is when sometimes you put away the watch for a while and then bring it back out to be pleasantly surprised). Alas, it was not to be….
Wait, before I get to that, I should explain that I couldn’t start back on a hard running program right away because I had to prepare for a 5K swim! Yes, the Big Shoulders 5K swim in Lake Michigan on September 10th. I remember saying to myself when I saw my lovely, perfect wife swim this six years ago that I could never swim that far. Well, a couple knee surgeries and lots of swimming later, I did it. Luckily, the water was flat that day (I probably could have made it in rough water, but I’m not sure) (and I wore a wetsuit, which real swimmers will say is cheating, but I’m not a real swimmer—I’m a runner). But in the service of being able to survive the event, I focused a lot of attention on swimming the last few weeks before Big Shoulders and couldn’t fully dedicate myself to running faster.
Okay, so back to my running…I did a few sessions on the track, including a broken 5K, which I enjoyed (“broken” is a swim term which means you break up the total distance but only keep track of the total time–I ran 200, 400, 600, 800, 1000, then back down the ladder (with about a minute rest between each) in 18:01.) Not great, but at least I knew where I was (and I plan to do this workout again to see how I am progressing). For my next workout, I met my friend Bill for a set of half-mile repeats on the bike path in Milwaukee. We did 4 and I had to fight to average 3 minutes (Bill maybe 4-5 seconds ahead of me). But these were very instructive. As I tried to keep up with Bill, I could feel my legs were simply not strong enough so I decided (literally that day, as we were jogging back to our cars) to be more deliberate about lifting weights/doing core workouts, including lifting with my legs, 1-2 times per week. It seems this is always my plan and I haven’t been able to maintain it, at least to the level I want, but I think it’s key for me. Because of my knee, I can’t rely on high mileage or hill repeats get stronger. I’ve got to find other ways. And so far, so good. I’m even doing squats every time (which does not bother my knee, even when it’s bothering me) and I’m going to keep adding reps and weight and see what happens.
So, a week after our first day of half-mile repeats, Bill and I met again that day I was able to average 2:55, and felt better doing it. I did a few other workouts (by myself, which means I’m inevitably a little slower than with someone else) but was happy with my progress. I thought about doing a fall race, maybe a 5K or maybe something longer, but I’ve ruled that out now because it seems like every time I just start thinking about signing up for a race, my knee starts to hurt. In fact, my knee was achy after my run on October 5th and I took a couple days off. Then I had to actually stop only a half-mile into my run on the 8th. Walking back home was depressing, yes, but I also knew it was just time for another shot of cortisone. It had been only 4 ½ months since my last, and I’ve been trying to make each last six months (though my doctor says every 4 months is fine) and so I missed a lot of beautiful days running both waiting to see my doctor and then for the inflammation to really go down after the injection.
But now I’m feeling good again and it’s full-speed ahead (that’s a relative phrase, of course) for the rest of October and into November. I am NOT going to sign up to do any races or even think about it, but I do have 2 workout goals I’ll be working towards. The first is 3 times a mile averaging under 6 minutes a mile. The second is 8 quarter-miles (well, 400 meters) averaging under 80 seconds. These are not wildly ambitious, but I could not go out and do either one today so they are ambitious enough. If I accomplish these, I may do a time trial on the track in lieu of a race, maybe 4000 meters or maybe a full 5000 just to see where I am before winter comes.
I remember when I did this some years back, it was November or maybe even early December after recovering from a fall marathon. I hadn’t timed any workouts since the race and was just wondering what kind of shape I was in. When I got to the track it was already so dark I couldn’t read my watch so I just set my countdown timer for 18 minutes and wanted to see how close I could get to cruising 3 miles in that time. I felt great that night from the start, better after each lap, and was thinking to myself, I’m surely going to get to 3 miles or very close. As I got closer and closerto 3 miles, I picked up my pace and when I crossed the line for the completion of 12 laps my timer still hadn’t gone off so I kept on going. I hadn’t planned for this and every stride thereafter felt like a gift, I grew more and more buoyant with each one, like I was floating through the darkness, and I was able to run a whole nother half a lap, going a few strides past the 5000 meter mark and into the turn before my timer congratulated me and it was really one of my most enjoyable, memorable runs ever.
So I’d love to be able to replicate something like that, not quite that fast, but maybe close. Of course, it’s probably not healthy, or productive really, to want to go back in time, though in a way that’s what I want to do. I suppose that is one the burdens of life, wanting things we cannot have. Does this make life more interesting or just more frustrating? I don’t know, and right now I don’t care. It is a beautiful October morning and I am going out for a run 🙂
Well, this has been an unusual, extraordinary summer. Unusual because, as the word implies, much about it was “not” usual. And extraordinary because, well, before I explain that, I’d like to look at that word: extraordinary. It’s been bothering me for a while. At face value, it seems to mean “extra” ordinary, or “super” ordinary, or “very very” ordinary, but that’s not what it means. No, it means “beyond” ordinary, “better than” ordinary, and that fits because this last summer has been, well, let me tell you about it….
First, as you may know, summers past I’ve focused on getting in as many workouts as possible. All the way back to high school (back then getting ready for cross-country season) that’s been my focus. With my job teaching, because I have more time in summer and the weather’s great and there’s more daylight and I have more energy, I’ve kept it up. Lots of years, a fall marathon was that big goal to work for. Since my knee surgery, it’s been, “Just get back into the best shape you can. This might be the time to really get back to being yourself again.” But no matter the goal, I’ve spent my summer stacking up runs, rides, and swims until my body couldn’t take any more. I mean, within reason, of course. I was never a superstar, just enthusiastic, and enjoyed throwing myself into it and the feeling of getting in shape made me happy. So why not?
But this summer, my perfect lovely wife was taking a sabbatical. Partly because she wanted (and had earned a break) from her job and partly because she always gets a little envious of my summer schedule. She’s an athlete too, super fast in the pool and she also enjoys running, but she’s got probably a healthier, better outlook on what one should do with one’s time in life. So our sabbatical summer would not be endless days of: wake up, enjoy a lazy morning, get in a workout, recover, work out again, eat a big dinner, stay off our feet, and get to bed early. We were going to do more with the time we had and we’d been dreaming of a big trip for some time. After much deliberation, we decided on….South Africa and, uh oh, I can feel myself falling into a detailed travelogue, which is not my intention, so let me just say we left for South Africa July 11th, returned home on 30th, then pick up the kids and went to the wilds of Alaska (where my wife’s brother and family live) from Aug 3-11th. Both trips were fantastic, but instead of describing them, I’ll share some pictures:
The Wild Coast, South Africa:
Bulungula, an African village:
Franschhoek (wine country):
Cape Town and the Cape of Good Hope:
And then Alaska:
As you can see, only a fool would complain about trips like these and I’m no fool and I’m not complaining and I had no hesitation in going full-on forward for our adventures. But I was also aware that for a full month in the heart of summer, my prime training days would be otherwise spoken for, and I’ve got to tell you, I was a little worried about it, both how it would feel and to what extent I’d lose the fitness I’d been working to regain.
I knew that even if I’d been in racing shape, this would’ve been worth taking time off for. No doubts. No regrets. Still, it was strange, to not be plotting out my summer schedule, not doing workouts, wondering where my training would lead me. And when I did run, it didn’t feel like summer—it wasn’t hot, I wasn’t sweating and thirsty and spent like I’d usually be in July and August. This was because I wasn’t doing hard workouts and also because it was winter in South Africa with moderate temps and we got about the same in Alaska (40’s-50’s at night, 60’s-70’s during the day).
We didn’t plan any of our days around running, but ran when we could and over the 32 days, I was able to get out 17 times, more than I’d expected, with some great runs on the beach along the coast of the Indian Ocean…
and along a beautiful strip of highway in the Alaskan wilderness (bear spray in hand)…
But none of these were timed, none very far, or fast, and I didn’t really think of them as training (as I had nothing to train for), just running.
So the point I sat down to make today is that I expected to return home mid-August feeling out of shape (I’d been feeling good before we left—ran Steamboat Classic 4 miler in June in 25:29 (cutting 1:20 from last year) and did a triathlon in July and was able to run the 5th fastest run time of all entrants (it was supposed to be a 10K but my time was 39:02 and I know I didn’t run that fast, but it was still a good run). But I’m not feeling out of shape. My legs, in terms of strength and form, actually feel better than they did when I left. Maybe it was my less ambitious schedule, or the beach runs, or the long, hilly hikes we did in both South Africa and Alaska, but my legs feel great. I don’t know how far I am from racing shape because I haven’t timed myself yet, just wanting to enjoy it as long as I can, the feeling of feeling good running. And it’s been so nice to run again in the heat and sun and I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be, feeling good on my feet in the middle of nice, long summer.
But that’s not true because summer is nearly over. I mean, I’m back to school next week, cross country season has started, the Packers will be embarking on their run to the Super Bowl (I hope) in a couple weeks. It’s back to work time and I know I’m going to break out the watch soon. I may even do it today—I’m heading to the track as soon as I finish this morning’s coffee, and I might run some 300’s just to see where I’m at. Of course, 300’s won’t tell the whole story. I’ll need longer runs to see where I’m really at. I know I’m not in great shape, don’t have that lightness that comes with being fast and fit. But I’m in a good, solid place. My knee is good, my form feels good, I feel strong, healthy, optimistic. Over the course of the next couple months I do hope to get in some good weeks, some fast workouts, then maybe a race or two in November if I think I can really do them with some level of success.
So it’s been a great summer, unusual and extraordinary, once-in-a-lifetime, at least only once so far in my lifetime, but this summer, even more than most, is going to be over too soon. I want these last few days to slow down. It’s like, I’m finally ready for summer, but summer is ready to leave.
So for the first four months of the year I’ve been following what I’m calling “The Amnesia Training Plan.” Essentially, this means I tried to just run and forget about everything that happened over the last 3 ½ years (tearing up my knee, having microfracture surgery, 6 weeks on crutches, 9 months not running, all the fits and starts of trying to get back into some kind of shape, et cetera). I decided to just feign ignorance about all of it. What? Who? Me? No, you must you be thinking of someone else. I’m fine. Sure, it was out of desperation, but it struck me that maybe the best way to get back to being the runner I’d been before the injury was to just tell myself I was–to fool myself into believing it.
To give a little historical perspective, over the years my running schedule has been seasonal and generally followed this pattern:
March-May: increase weekly mileage, start speed work, consider doing races (but always decide to wait)
June-July: increase mileage and intensity, do some races, bike and swim (I have lots of time and energy in summer)
August: grind out highest mileage weeks of the year, do my most challenging workouts, continue cross-training
September-October: alternate high-mileage weeks and race weeks, usually run a marathon
November: cut back on mileage but enjoy fitness left over from a good year of running, maybe one more race, start planning for the next year
December-February: cut way back on mileage, do very little, if any, speed work, get a little bit out of shape, play basketball and/or swim and lift weights
Now that is my pre-injury schedule. And the point I’m trying to make is that being in underwhelming running condition the first week of January, well, that felt pretty familiar to me. And so this last January, after another subpar workout, I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be great if I could just slog through these next few months and then get back in shape like I used to. I mean, really get back in shape, like when spring rolls around start running fast again. I mean, there’s no reason I can’t, right? My knee is holding up, I’m not too old. Other people are doing it. I’ve done it before. It should just be a matter of putting in the work, right?
I knew it was more complicated than that, but instead of embracing all the ways it could be complicated, I decided to see it in as simple of terms as possible: just run like you used to and you’ll be the runner you used to be.
Now though I hadn’t been satisfied, I had, at the end of last year, begun to FEEL like my old self at times. That is, on good days I’d run and FEEL like I was really running, moving smoothly, efficiently, like the good old me. This was great, and my biggest goal when I couldn’t run was just to experience that feeling again. However, if I timed myself on one of these glorious days, well, no matter how good or fast I felt, I was still quite a bit behind my old self. So, in order to become the old me again I really only had two options: #1) run faster or #2) forget about how fast I was running. Obviously, my ultimate goal was #1) run faster, but I couldn’t do that at the snap of my fingers. I realized that I could; however, instantaneously achieve #2) forget about how fast I was running.
And so that’s what I did. Along with lots of swimming, through January (22 miles a week), February (28 miles a week), March (23 miles a week), and April (34 miles a week), when I ran, I thought about feeling good and didn’t think about pace. Whereas I’d been very deliberate about my training since my injury and had done a lot of timed workouts, knowing I had to run fast to re-activate the muscles that had gotten weak, this was different. I just ran. I had good days and bad days. I felt heavy. I felt light. I felt slow. I felt fast. But I didn’t think much about it, because just like in the old days, I told myself I’d worry about times and pace and speed and racing when the snow melts.
Now I thought this might work, but I also knew it was risky, that there was a chance I’d get even slower and be further from my ultimate goal. Still, I told myself ahead of time that even if that happens I won’t regret it because for a while I could least enjoy my running a little more. I mean, I appreciate every step I can run, and I’m realistic about my goals, but thinking about how slow I was going would sap a little of the joy out of it. I mean, there’s nothing like than facing your own shortcomings, your limitations, to make you feel shitty about things. But I do it for the reason all runners do it, because getting in shape to run the best you can makes it all worth it.
That last sentence signals to me that I’m itching to embark on some philosophical musings about competition and the MEANING OF EVERYTHING, but I told myself to stay focused today, so let’s move on the question: how did the “Amnesia Training Plan” work? Well, I’ve only done a few timed workouts, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised with them. For example, I did a track workout with the triathlon team I train with and we were doing 6 800’s. I had no idea what kind of pace I could maintain and hoped to average just under 3 minutes for each but I ended up averaging 2:52 with the last one in 2:47 (which is still slower than I was pre-injury, but definitely the fastest I’ve done since the injury). I also ran a three mile solo tempo run on a cool, windy day in 19:40 and this was a comfortable effort and I could have kept going and last May I exhausted myself running 20:30 on the very same course. So again, I’m not the old me yet, but things are definitely looking up and I’m looking forward to more speed workouts and some 40+ mile weeks. I still plan to do most of my runs without a watch, but a couple times a week I’ll do my hard workouts and hope to see them improve pretty steadily until my first race of the year, which will be in June and then I’ll really know how far I’ve come and how much further I’ve got to go.
If you’ve missed me, well, I couldn’t write any posts for this blog when I had my self-induced amnesia, because before I got hurt I never thought about writing a running blog. The old me wouldn’t have had much to say. The new me does, of course, and I’m looking forward to updating you on all the amazing progress I will make in the next few months (I hope, I hope).
My niece Emma is 6 years old. Every year her parents and their friends throw a Christmas party with a special appearance by the one and only Santa Claus. Now, this Santa is actually my brother-in-law John, a jolly enough fellow, former state champion in the javelin, and currently a powerlifter. He’s a big guy, fills the suit well, and has been doing so for years. As the children at this party have gotten older, and some have realized that Santa Claus is actually John. Last year, my sister in law expected Emma would figure it out, that when she sat on her dad’s lap, told him what she wanted for Christmas, and heard his voice, she would surely realize the truth. So as not to ruin it for the younger kids, she told Emma, “If you notice anything strange about Santa, don’t say anything, but come over and whisper it in my ear.” Well, last year passed, with Emma sitting on Santa’s lap, telling him what she wanted for Christmas, and she didn’t notice anything strange.
But as this year’s Christmas party was approaching, they figured surely she’d recognize him. Her mom gave her the same instructions: if you notice anything strange about Santa, come over and whisper it in my ear. The party began, John was there, but then at some point he disappeared. Shortly after, Santa arrived. All the kids brave enough sat on his lap, told him how good they’d been, and what they wanted to find under their trees on Christmas morning. Emma did the same, felt his strong hands as he lifted her up, talked back and forth with him, looked him in the eye. When she was done, she jumped off and ran immediately to her mom. She knows, her mom thought. But when Emma whispered in her mom’s ear, all she said, “I noticed something strange about Santa….his beard is not attached to his face!”
That’s it. That’s what she noticed. That and the fact that he was wearing his boots over his shoes. She didn’t see her dad, though she’s a very smart little girl and the evidence was all there for her to see. She still saw Santa. With some peculiarities, sure, but it was him. Now my lovely perfect wife tells this story better than I do, but I thought I’d try as well, because every time we talked and laughed about it, we concluded that it just goes to show that: people believe what they want to believe.
Why am I discussing this on my running blog? Well, it’s occurred to me that I might be just like Emma. For my last report, way back in September, I’d just run a 21 minute 5K and was feeling pretty livid about it and was determined to get back in shape once and for all. I was looking forward to a glorious autumn of running harder and getting faster, being myself again. But now it’s January already, and while I did make some improvements, they were not as grand as I imagined. And I didn’t even run another race. I kept waiting to feel good enough, fast enough, but it didn’t happen. I didn’t want to do another race unless I was ready to go at least under 20 minutes for a 5K. “Just get out there and try,” you might be saying. “The best way to get in racing shape is to race.” That’s true, but I guess I am just too fragile in the head to knock myself out and run a heavy, gasping, slow-footed 5K in over 20 minutes again. Because what I’m aiming for now is just a stepping stone. First I need to get under 20 minutes, then under 19, and then under 18 again. Another bad race and I might not be able to keep going. And by “keep going” I mean keep fighting to get myself back in racing shape OR keep deceiving myself to think that I can.
You see, at this point, I don’t know which is the case. On the one hand, there’s no reason I can’t get back in shape. It’s just a simple equation of me moving my body over land at a certain speed for a certain distance. Tantalizing simple. However, I know I shouldn’t have faith in this just because I want to be true. And I know that on the other hand is the fact that I’ve been trying to get fast, haven’t been able to, and maybe it’s not possible. And this is backed up with some pretty solid evidence, the rate at which I can and cannot move my body over land for a set distance. This is why I say I might be like Emma, ignoring all the hard evidence and my own good sense of reality to keep living in my fantasy world, the world in which I can actually feel fit and fast, maintain 6 minutes per mile pace, break 5 minutes for a single mile, run a nice ten-miler at under 7 minute pace just because it’s a nice day for a run, all my crazy dreams.
At some point Emma is going to realize the truth and be none the worse off for it. That’s why we can laugh about it. But if I find I’ve been living in a fantasy world, that I can’t get back to where I want, well, does that mean I’ve been wasting time and energy believing I can? I know it wouldn’t be completely wasted. I enjoy running and enjoy setting goals for myself. But there’s a difference between the experience of a goal-orientated, realistic, satisfied runner and one deluded about his or her possibilities. I think if I knew that I wasn’t going to be fast again, for whatever reason, I could transition to being a gentleman jogger and pay no attention to time or distance or getting faster. I could do it. Live a normal life. But at this point I still want to believe. It’s like I’m saying: who knows for sure whether Santa’s beard is attached to his face? I mean, anything is possible. Well, maybe that’s not true, but lots of things are possible. Lots of things will happen.
Because it’s been so long since I’ve posted, I won’t bore you with all my training info. Like I said, I have improved since September. I attribute this simply to more running. In the 14 weeks since my last post, I have averaged 33 miles a week (with 2 hours a week of cross-training). For the 14 weeks before that, I averaged 24 miles per week (with 5.5 hours of cross training). My knee seems to be holding up to the extra miles and back-t0-back days of running well enough. I did get another cortisone shot in November, and I’m actually just finishing up a week off of running completely (I think I’ll go ten days then start again) because of an issue with the tendons above my kneecap. This is probably related in some way to my injury, muscle weakness or the brace I have to wear, but it doesn’t seem to be directly related to the joint line, the meniscus or microfracture surgery, so I expect it will be fine after this rest. So, even though most of these would have been easy or moderate days in my past life, here are my best days from the fall:
November 3rd: 6 mile loop at 6:56 pace (struggled to run this at 7:25 in the summer)
November 7th: 2.5 miles on the track at 6:40 pace
November 10th: A 6:00 mile in the middle of a long track workout (fastest mile in the three years since my knee surgery)
November 18th: 4 800’s under 3 minutes, last one in 2:52
December 9th: 6 mile repeats (2 minutes rest) on rolling hills, averaged 6:28
December 11th: 6 800’s under 3 minutes, last one in 2:49
December 17th: 5K tempo run on track in 20:34 (6:35 pace)
December 19th: 6 mile loop at 6:49 pace
On to 2016!
I just wanted to write a short note before our time together fades too far into memory, as these things tend to do. To cut to the chase: I had a great time with you. I mean, it all went by so quickly and I never stopped to say, “Wow, this is great” or “I didn’t expect it to feel this way.” I guess I didn’t want to break the spell and was always looking forward: to the next run, or bike, or swim. But it’s over now and I feel I should say something, while I can still feel it. That’s the thing about memories—it’s easy to remember what happened, but not the feelings one had. I could say that won’t happen this time, but I’ve lived long enough to know it will. August is here now commanding my full attention, September’s coming soon, and before long it’ll be January, and you’ll be like a stranger to me then: faded, distant, exotic, untouchable.
Though I know it’s usually better to let moments of strong emotion pass without saying anything, there are times I can’t take my own advice and I guess this is one of them. But rest assured, I don’t want anything more from you. All I want to say is, Thanks. For being there for me. For being yourself. For letting me do the same.
I guess that’s what this is really about, and it’s not like I’m that crazy about myself, but it sure was nice to wake up in the morning and look forward to that day’s training: to be able to run and not think so much about my knee or feeling heavy or slow or having all my good days behind me, all those bad feelings I’ve had as I’ve worked and waited to get it back. And then to lounge and stretch afterwards, to be hungry, plan a second workout (either a bike ride where my legs would spin like they are supposed to spin, or a cold, but invigorating swim in the lake), to crawl into bed feeling accomplished and spent, to wake up and want to do it all again. These are all joyful moments for me: getting in shape, feeling like myself again.
I don’t know if I told you this, but I’ve kept track of the most important things we did together. I hope you don’t find that odd. I just like to write things down. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t completely with you while all these things happened. I was. This just helps me keep things in perspective, helps me appreciate each day.
I just added up all your totals, July, and without trying to I had exactly 15 runs, 15 rides, and 15 swims. I couldn’t have planned it better than that, but that’s like what I was saying–everything just happened so naturally for us. Anyway, I’ll let you look over this list, and hope you’ll look back on our days together fondly as I do. Before I say good-bye, though, there are a few days that deserve special mention, ones that I’m sure will stick with me even as the months ahead pull me further and further from you.
Do you remember the 4th? I know you had a lot going on that day, but do you remember that 80 minute run in Texas right along the gulf? That was the hottest I’d been in a long, long time, especially on the return when that wind was blowing on my back and it felt like there was nothing left for me to breathe. Do you remember scanning the side yards of the houses along for shore for garden hoses? When I found one, I doused my head and then took a long cool drink. It had been a long time since I’d had hosewater in the midst of a long run, but you helped me remember that there’s nothing more refreshing.
We had two other long ones: that nice ten-miler at under 7:30 pace and the muggy hot eleven-miler on those hilly central Wisconsin roads. There were stretches of that run that were even harder than in Texas. Going up some of some of the inclines that day, it was all I could do to keep myself moving forward. I’d look down at my legs and think to myself: pitiful, pitiful. But then I’d say: no, this is how you get stronger. And that’s what I kept telling myself, especially deeper into the run, each step is making you stronger. I mean, you know I love to run, and sometimes it’s enough just to be doing it. But other times I need to tell myself why I’m doing it, what I have to gain from keeping going.
We had some good days at the track as well. Truth be told, I approached each session with trepidation as I knew, well, there’s no hiding from the truth on those days. And while what I discovered with each lap was not the big surprise of speed I’m always hoping for, it was always good enough so that when I was done, I was able to say to myself, that was good, that was progress, and I was glad, to be getting a little faster.
We’ve had some good rides and swims as well, and no, I am not discounting that triathlon on the 26th. In fact, that was one of my favorite days, even if my ride was slow and most of the first mile of the run was uphill (steep to the point we really couldn’t take full advantage of it on the way back down). I’ll remember that race because it was the first time I’d been fully engaged for that long since I hurt my knee, what’s it been, almost 3 years ago. From diving in at the start of the swim to running hard through the finishing chute at the end of the run I felt I was pushing myself right on that edge, and when I was able to let go, that was a real deep satisfaction.
Hopefully I’ll be faster in my next triathlon (August 8th) but again, like I said, I felt like myself that day, and all month really, and though I’m not back yet, I’m getting there, and there’s no doubt I have you to thank for it. So to end I’ll just say it again: Thank you, July. Thank you. You’ll always have a special place in my heart.
As promised, here is the rundown of our time together:
July 1: 20 minute swim, 90 minute bike ride, with middle hour intervals, legs felt good
July 2: 3 mile run in Austin, TX: very hard (but not very fast)
July 3: 45 minute continuous swim in pool in Austin, felt good
July 4: 80 minutes run in Rockport (10 miles), very hot and muggy!
July 5: 15 minute swim in canal in Rockport, arms heavy
July 6: track workout in Chicago, 5 miles total with 1 mile strides/drills then 8 400’s
in 89, 87, 87, 84, 84, 86, 85, 83 (90 seconds rest)(av. 86), body tired, tried to
run with good form, biked 50 miles
July 7: 3000 yard swim workout in pool, felt okay, biked 25 miles with good effort
July 8: easy 4 mile run, felt okay
July 9: morning swim in lake at Klode park, Storm the Bastille 5K in 20:40 at night (good time if the course is accurate), felt okay, 6 miles total
July 10: 25 mile bike ride, steady effort, felt okay
July 11: Big Swell 1.2 mile swim in Devil’s Lake
July 12: easy swim in lake (45 minutes), 10 mile run in 74:00, plus 4 strides
July 13: 2 hour bike ride, moderate effort (32 miles)
July 14: track workout, 3 wu including strides and drills, 4 1200’s in 4:32, 4:31, 4:28,
4:28 (felt pretty good), 4 barefoot strides during cooldown, 7 miles total, then biked 35 miles, windy, moderate effort
July 15: biked to Ohio Street Beach (7), then hard 20 minute swim (wavy)
July 16: evening run, sluggish at start then loosened up and felt better, 5+ miles
July 17: easy bike ride (18 miles)
July 18: 11 mile run, hilly course, heat, humidity, and tired body made for a tough run!
July 19: easy bike ride, 20 miles
July 20: 6 mile route in 44:15 (7:15 pace), muggy but felt pretty good, muggy + swim practice in pool in evening
July 21: 20 miles bike back and forth to Ohio Street Beach, 1 mile swim (lake was wavy) in 36 minutes
July 22: track workout at Wilson: plyometrics + 8 300’s in 64, 60, 60, 60, 59, 58, 59, 57 + 4 hills + 3 miles steady, 7 miles total
July 23: swim in lake at Klode Park, felt pretty good
July 24: 4 miles, sluggish (muggy), easy hour bike ride
July 25: 3 miles easy, felt pretty good
July 26: Ripon Medical Center Triathlon in 2:43:03: swim 28:14, bike 18.0 mph (25+ miles), run 45:39 (7:21 pace on a very slow, hilly course)
July 27: 50 mile bike ride, mostly flat, rode steady/easy
July 28: track workout, 2 wu + plyometrics & strides, 3 1200’s in 4:29, 4:29, 4:28 (felt okay), 6 miles total, 30 + minute cold Klode park swim in evening
July 29: 30 mile bike ride, warm and windy, pretty easy ride, 30+ minute cold lake swim (full wetsuit + gloves + booties), felt good
July 30: hills/track workout: 2 wu + 8 Kletszch hills + 2 miles + 8 100m sprints + mile in 6:23 (felt very good first 800) + 8 barefoot strides, hot day, 7 miles total
July 31: 40 miles of biking, second half pretty hard (very windy)! 30 minute full moon swim in lake (beautiful!)