Apology to Lady Walking Her Dog

I promised myself that last night’s run would not be as fast as previous 7M runs, but that I was going to try and hit every mile near the high-end of my target range (7:30/M). I reminded myself of this, I even said it out loud before I started. “Slow down the first mile.” First mile, 6:43. It was at this point that I yelled out loud “slow down you stupid jack*ss!” It was as the final ‘s’ rolled off of my tongue that I realized there was a startled woman walking her dog. And, although I am positive any reasonable person would have realized I was talking to myself, she complied and began walking very slowly. When I actually passed her a few feet later, she tensed up—pulling her shoulders in and wore a face of great apprehension.

So, dear lady and your dog, I’m sorry I swore out loud, sorry it startled you, and sorry you were probably fearful of me thereafter. You see, I was trying to run significantly slower than my actual pace, and with my music on and my desire to hear my own voice berate myself, I had to yell at myself loudly. Plus, I didn’t notice you because I was looking at my Garmin as I prepared to finish my first mile. Hope that clears things up.

Running Fast at Night

Running fast automatically means you are outside of your running comfort zone. Going outside of your comfort zone at races or at other times is a good thing; it challenges us as runners and lets us know where we can improve.

As part of my marathon training, I have incorporated mile repeats. Last night included a ½ mile warm-up, then 3 mile repeats at 10K pace, or 6:30/M.

Now the thing about running at night, and especially running fast at night, is that it is a total mind screw. Everything, I mean everything, seems further away. So my run-½-mile-then-turn-around at street light and head back seemed more like “I can’t believe how far away that light is, I’ve been running forever, this route must be longer than a ½ mile, everything is black except for the street light a mile away and my headlight, how fast am I actually going?”

So, you can only imagine how running outside of your comfort zone is jacked up exponentially by running at night. Not to mention that my light wouldn’t stay at my desired 45-degree angle while running fast, but insisted on facing straight down. Which caused a somewhat cool but eerie effect of having my breath, strangely illuminated by my running light, vaporize in front of me. I am not looking forward to doing the same thing, plus one mile repeat, next week.

Splits: 6:13, 6:20; 6:23. Apparently I was going a wee bit fast my first one.

Body of Work II

In my first post I discussed the word ‘body’ as it relates to a runner’s body of work, or their running accomplishments. Today I am going to focus on the word ‘body’ as it relates to our physical body. And if Mariah Carrie’s song “Touch My Body” isn’t running through your head right now, it should be. A few weeks ago I received a mailing for the 5/3rd River Bank Run. This is a tremendous group of races located in Grand Rapids, with the marquee race being the 25K (or 15.5M of you so please).

While looking through the mailing I noted the 5/3rd River Bank Run has a “Clydesdale” divisions for both men and women. If you are not familiar with what the term “Clydesdale” means for runners, I’ll let the flyer speak for itself. For men, the “Clydesdale” divisions are 185-199 pounds, and 200+ pounds. For women, the “Clydesdale” divisions are 145-154 pounds, and 155+ pounds.

I have only come across “Clydesdale” divisions a few times before, including the Flying Pig Marathon. And I find it strange that a race would be willing to differentiate on the basis of weight.

See, one reason I love running is that anyone can do it. A quick jaunt through several blogs and you will find fast runners, slow runners, obsessed runners, casual runners, and runners of varying weight. Yet, they all run. And running certainly promotes itself as the friendliest and most accessible sport—welcome to all people and all body types and any pace. I always see runner’s finish a race, turn around, and walk back to cheer on other runners. Every running store that has a running group promotes its “any pace, anybody” motto. So, it seems to me, that a “Clydesdale” division is somewhat dated.

Now, to be honest, I was rather caught off guard by the fact that I qualify for the lower “Clydesdale” division, and that only three pounds would place me in the upper division. Moreover, I would have to loose a dozen pounds to get out of it. And while I may not be Nitmos fast, I am a very quick runner. I’m also over six feet tall, so 197 pounds on me looks different than on someone who is five foot seven. Yet, body type is not taken into account, just weight.

Ultimately, I think it is sad that a sport which is overwhelming supportive of any fitness level and any body shape still holds onto some of its more dated traditions by classifying people based on weight. And, for those who will argue that ‘age’ classification are just as arbitrary, I would strongly disagree. Age divisions are meant to compare others around your age, “Clydesdale” divisions are solely reserved for what would be called “heavier” runners. There is no corresponding feather weight.

Happy running, no matter who you are or what pace you run.

To the People of East Lansing

Shovel your sidewalks. Seriously, it is good exercise. Plus, it is the law pursuant to local ordinance and carries a whopping $25 fine. However, if the aforementioned reasons are not enough, do it because runners will greatly appreciate it. Odds are you—who does not shovel—are also the same person who refuses to move over (even slightly) when a runner has the audacity to run on the street. But I wouldn’t run on the street if you would shovel your sidewalk. So there is another reason for you to do it.

And why do runners care about said sidewalks. First, likelihood of injury increases dramatically. Second, it slows me down. And third, it slows me down. Point in case: miles I ran this weekend on un-shoveled sidewalks (and where the street was too dangerous of an option) average time verse those on sidewalk 8:15/M to 7:30/M.

The ‘Winter Storm Advisory’ and un-shoveled sidewalks notwithstanding, this weekend was full of good runs. I again averaged 7:14/M on my 7M run Saturday and 7:54/M for my 14M yesterday.

It Was the Llamas

Nitmo’s absence has caused more that just a raincloud in the blogosphere, it has also caused quite a problem for local runners. In case you are unaware, Nitmos and I share common running routes.

Sadly, Nitmo’s self-imposed exile had allowed the local llama population to run wild. Although local runners are trying to pick up the slack, it is not looking good. Local authorities are baffled, local politicians are raving about ‘a loss of family values,’ and the local news refuses to cover the story. Don’t believe me, see what has happened to our beloved traffic circle below…

Rain to Snow

Last night I tried to sneak in my 7M run before the slight rain turned into snow. 34 degrees outside, but I still overdressed—the running coat was too much. Despite my promise to myself that I wouldn’t crank my first mile, and that I would keep it close to 7:25 to 7:30, I still ran a 6:53. Oh well, slow it down a bit and try to keep all of my miles below my goal of 7:30.

Finish time, 50:39. Average pace, 7:14/M. Spits: 6:53, 7:14, 7:17, 7:28, 7:30, 7:21, 6:57. Run done, snow begins. Nice.

As an aside, I was honored that the fine gentlemen over at Runner’s Lounge decided to take my question and, well…

Things I am Not Faster Than

In my life, I have outrun several things. Once in 5th grade I outran my best-friend and won the mile for my class. In high school I outran many competitors. In college I would outrun my roommates to Cruchy’s for buckets of beer, and I’ve even—while intoxicated--outran an officer of the law.

However, there are things I am assuredly not faster than. I have never outrun a cheetah. Nor have I even outrun a bear. But, in all honesty, I have never laced it up against either of these animals. But, what I have been trying to outrun was this cold.

Race over, cold wins. And now I’m left with its victory chant (cough, cough, cough) all last night and today. My loss to cold didn’t prevent me from running my three, but I dropped it down to my long run pace of 8:27 pace.