Burnout

        Do I still want it bad enough?

            This is the question I find myself asking as I sit 2 weeks from my first marathon on Oct. 28^th.  The honeymoon phase of my relationship is officially over.  Now as with all relationships I have to find out if it is really worth it.

            For nearly a year and a half I ran every time with a sense of enthusiasm and joy because it was something I never thought I’d even be able to try let alone succeed at.  Race after race, milestone after milestone, it all worked seamlessly.  Now after 5 months of marathon training I find myself sitting here with a severe case of burnout. 

            Sure, I can come up with extenuating circumstances that have thrown my training off.  My job has been terrible at making a clear work schedule.  I find myself unable to set long term runs since my schedule seems to change every week.  I can easily think of a half dozen runs ruined by this incompetence. 

            I could also point to actually going too hard in my training and having nagging injuries catching up with me.  These make it difficult to maintain a normal running schedule when you're constantly having to rest aching body parts.  I have had pain in my hip flexors and groin for months and the left heel pain has made it tough to walk at times.  Still, I have continued on.  I have bought a few different insoles for my shoes, a foam roller for my muscles, things that I had hoped would reaffirm my commitment and keep me motivated.  Yet here I am 2 weeks to go wondering not only if I can do this, but if I want to.

            I liked the idea of pushing myself time after time.  I felt like this was all coming too easy, the distances, the races, the weight coming off.  All of this kept my feet moving for a year and a half.  I am thinking that the idea of running a marathon clouded my judgment.  The actual training is an unbelievably arduous process that has tested me beyond what I thought.  

            Running in and of itself is hard enough.  Add to that my stress-filled cooking job, the heat, being on my feet all day, I was at a disadvantage before I even hit the open road.  That I even made it this far is a victory in and of itself.  I am looking back at my charted runs since I began Memorial Day Weekend.  These are the facts.  In the calendar year before I began marathon training I had logged 920 miles.  Granted there may have been something here and there I missed, and bike riding and other forms of cardio were not counted, but that averages out to just under 19 miles per week.  Since starting training I have been regularly topping 40 per week, a good sized jump from what I was used to.

           Before marathon training I had run a distance of 15 miles exactly 3 times in 14 months.  In the 5 months since beginning marathon training I have eclipsed 15 miles 9 times including 3 20+ runs.  My beginner training program suggested only 1 20 miler.  I have also included several difficult hill runs to prepare myself for the 12 miles of hills in the middle of the marathon route.  Those are the straight numbers.

            I am in the tapering phase now, dropping my long runs to 17-18 miles.  I cannot find the motivation to even step outside.  The process of getting my gear ready, going to a place to run, stretching, and actually running does not thrill me like it used to.  Could it be as simple as I am fatigued from a really good hard training regimen?  Could it be that it does not excite me since I am always running on my own?  Many times I tell myself I have come too far to just give up.  I paid my money for the race and have every intention of running it, but then what?

            I wanted to run a 10K trail race in Nashua, NH the day after my 35^th birthday, November 3^rd.  The thought of amping up for another race has me seriously rethinking that prospect.  Do I finish my training, run my marathon, and take some time off to recharge my batteries?  Is it that easy?  Trying to get motivated will be even harder during the cold winter months, right?  Hitting the road when it’s sunny and 75 is much easier to do than forcing yourself out the door when it’s cloudy, breezy, and 35.

            So I find myself asking ‘Do I still want this?’  I look at my medals and race bibs and wonder what it all means.  Even a few months ago I had these plans to run the Boston Marathon next April with the ultimate goal being to go run the Honolulu Marathon in 2014.  I can’t see myself doing 2 more full-length marathon training programs.  It is not fun for me right now, it feels more like work, like a job.  I’ve had my share of injuries and doubt but I never thought of giving up.  I thought that I was a runner now, it was part of me.  Maybe I still am.  Maybe my fellow runners, especially ones who are training for their first marathon, or remember how their first one went, can give me some encouragement.  It obviously is bothering me if I have written this much.  All I know is in 2 weeks I will complete my marathon, my time is not important anymore.  What happens in my head and my heart in the days and weeks after that will tell me if I am truly a runner or just a poseur who got as far as he could before turning back.     

When the Experience Means More Then the Result

11,000 people. That’s how many ran the 40^th Annual Falmouth Road Race this year.  It was my first as I used my time for the Harwich Half Marathon last October to get in via the lottery system.  11,000 people and me; I knew that the beginning especially was going to be a mess.  It would probably be a mixture of walking, trotting, and slow jogging.  I knew that setting some sort of time goal was most likely not going to work. 

The weather on race day further emphasized that idea.  The torrential rains which were falling when I awoke at 5:30am would keep going up until race time at 10.  It would eventually flood much of the race course and cause delays while crews drained the water from the worst areas.

I thought getting up extra early might help me find a parking spot closer to where you caught the buses from Falmouth down into Woods Hole.  I was right, but many other people had the same idea.  I was in traffic for the last five or so miles of my trip.  It was three hours before race time and there was traffic, then again there were 11,000 runners and who knows how many supporters as well clogging the streets that day.

I parked at the Town Hall lot which was nearly empty.  The buses were in sight, a short walk from my car.  I sat inside as the rain continued to come down.  I had bought brand new Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12’s only a week earlier.  They were all black and I was drooling over the thought of running the race in all black ala Johnny Cash.  Still, I had to make a decision.  Do I run the race in my new shoes and risk them being ruined by puddles of water?  Or do I ‘un-retire’ my old Adrenaline’s that were now my everyday shoes?  Ultimately I erred on the side of caution and broke out my old shoes. 

Being that the grip and cushioning were lacking in the new shoes my expectations for my time dropped.  That did not matter though, the experience of being in Falmouth that day started to win me over.  I mean, how could you not like trudging through the rain and seeing hundreds of people wrapped in trash bags?  That’s the runner spirit.

I made my way to the local elementary school where the school buses were lining up to begin taking runners to the starting line.  I was able to get the small, very back seat much like I did all during my school years.  It was a neat bit of retro until the guy sat in the seat in front of me and proceeded to open his window all the way.  Remind you it was still raining at this point.  Not to mention he was the only one to open his window.  The water came drizzling in on me of course.  I was wearing a hat but still.  Then he laughs as he mentions there’s water coming into the bus through a vent in the roof.  I said ‘yeah and it’s coming in through your window, too.’  That didn’t change a thing.

Upon arriving in Woods Hole we runners we directed down a side street toward Water Street where the starting line resided.  The rain was lighter but still coming down.  Now not only were there people covered in trash bags but they were also hiding out in any dry crevice and overhang of buildings.  They also huddled under trees.  Me?  I figured I was already a little wet why not just wander around and get a feel for the location.

I had dug out a very old long-sleeved gym shirt to wear over my running clothes so I was not totally exposed.  I also had stuck my Iphone in a Ziploc bag to keep it dry, leaving a little opening for my headphones.  Oh yeah, running with headphones was not allowed but the photos of me crossing the finish line show me wearing them, oops.  

I tried my best to get my usual routine of stretches in as race time approached.  With about ten minutes until start time I got into my position.  Due to the insane amount of runners we were divided into ‘corrals.’  It was like being cattle, fencing and all.  I tossed my wet and old gym shirt into a nearby trash and got ready to run. 

Then they announced the flooding on the course.  We’d be delayed close to twenty minutes.  So, there I was wedged in among hundreds of people unable to do anything but wait and cool down.  To top it all off the rain stopped and the sweltering humidity became more evident.

Once the race got started I felt good, I was able to navigate the array of hills that greeted us all.  Three miles in I was ahead of my original pace goal.  Then the humidity, delayed start, and old shoes got to me.  I could feel my legs aching which caused me to slow down some.  At every mile marker there was a clock so you had an idea of where you stood.  Once I got to Mile 5 and I was off pace I decided to get back to enjoying the experience and letting go of my time expectations.

To keep my legs going I began to slap hands with all of the kids I passed.  It made me feel important so why wouldn’t I?  I noticed the people playing music along the roads, actual instruments, guitars mostly.  The spectacle of this event was unlike anything I’ve been a part of.  Then the sun broke out as I closed in on the final mile.

At this point I saw the first medical tent which I was glad I didn’t have to visit.  The crowds grew along the roadside, some place four or five people deep.  They cheered me on as I wanted to slow down.  Of course with only a few hundred yards to go there was one final hill leading to the finish line under a gigantic American Flag.

As I soaked in the immediate aftermath of a tough but exciting race my phone went off and there was my running mentor and best friend Emily asking how the race went.  The funny part was that just as I checked my phone a photographer took a shot of me so that moment is frozen in time.

I walked to where the first water station was after the finish line.  After grabbing water I slid slowly down a metal barricade and collected myself. People soaked in sweat passed by staring at their finisher medals.  I looked down at mine and was happy.  I got up and followed the crowds to the field where all of the food and beverages were being dished out.

I gladly accepted the bagels, raisins, bananas, hot dogs, and water then set off to survey the scene.  People were still being announced finishing so the crowds continued to grow while I walked around.  I stood in line for a Yasso Frozen Yogurt bar that I had gotten samples of at the Running Expo a few nights earlier, really good.  I walked to the very edge of the packed, muddy field, stood up on a fence, leaning against a trailer, and snapped a photo trying to capture that moment.  I do love running, but for me the best part of a race is when it is over.  Hopefully I am in one piece and I can reflect on what I have done.  That is what I did in Falmouth.

I was tired and had no clue where I was.  I actually had to use my phone’s GPS to locate myself and then get a map to where my car was parked.  After running 7 miles, and walking a good half mile to the field, I had to walk nearly two more miles to my car.  This may have been the best part of the day though.  I played songs that fit my mood, and since I was wearing my bib number I received a lot of smiles and waves from the sea of traffic which I soon became a part of. 

The Falmouth Road Race is every bit of the unique experience that people say it is.  The crowds, the festivities, it all adds up to a great day.  Now, the traffic I can do without, needing over two hours to make a 40-minute drive home is nuts, but I would do it all again, and will in 2013. 

How about you, my fellow runners?  Have you participated in any races where the time takes a back seat to the overall experience?  Notice that I wrote nothing of my time/pace/finish.   

At the Finish Line, checking my phone like I said, here's the 'Proof.'

Heading for the buses to Woods Hole

In 'Corral 3' with the Starting Line in the distance.

The best view of the madness after the race, the finish line flag is on the right.

Brooks Marathon Training Shoes

So I am less than 3 months away from my 1st marathon and am getting up there in distances.  I did 18 miles yesterday which was 3 miles longer than any run I have ever done.  My question is about shoes since it is all about the shoes.  I am loyal to my Brooks brand, and love my Adrenaline GTS 12.  However, I was wondering if any other Brooks runners knew of possibly another shoe under their label that might be better suited for the distance training?  It's not that my Adrenaline's are giving me trouble, but as with running in general I am looking to always improve.  If there is another Brooks shoe someone finds better for marathon training I'd love to hear about it.  Or maybe the Adrenalines are the best and I will just stick with them.  I am throwing this out to all of you.  Thanks in advance for your help/advice.

When A Run Gives You A Life Moment

 

I love to travel, I love to write, I love to run.  If I get a chance to mix the three together it usually ends up being something very special for me.  In the 16 months that I have been running I have learned that sometimes the moments that make up the event are more important than the event itself.  What does that mean?  Just look at these ‘stories’ I tell of running experiences.  They could easily be as simple as: I ran a race, here’s my time, yay, on to the next one.  The straight facts are all well and good but it’s how I feel emotionally, what I see, what I experience, those things that make running more than just exercise.  It is an excuse to live more.

A perfect example of this ‘excuse’ is my recent trip up to Lincoln, NH.  I wanted to go back for the first time in over 20 years and hike Flume Gorge again, and visit the Old Man of the Mountain site again.  However there was something that superseded all of that: The Kancamagus Highway.  ‘The Kanc’ is a 34-mile stretch of nearly untouched wilderness winding through the White Mountains between Lincoln and North Conway.  There is no food, gas, and basically no cell reception for that distance.  For me it was a no brainer to go and run some of it.

I have learned that running gives you more of a feel for your surroundings than driving does.  I could have driven through The Kanc and seen and appreciated it, but I wanted to feel it.  I wanted there to be nothing between me and the landscape, running gave me that excuse to live more.

Not only was I going to run part of The Kanc, but I was going to start at the highest elevation, 2855 feet, at Kancamagus Pass.  If I was going to do this I was going all out.     

I arrived at Kancamagus Pass close to 6pm, it was a bit windy and cooler than expected.  The views of the nearby White Mountains immediately caught my attention and I stretched under a gazebo which gave me an unobstructed panoramic observation.  I had to remind myself that there was running to do.  See, I hadn’t run in 10 days due to a really annoying left hip injury.  I had been tinkering with my stride and ended up costing myself some prime training time in the middle of my first marathon training.  Running a super steep course was the last thing I should have been doing but I have always been very stubborn.  I kept my injury pretty hush, at least how bad it was, cause someone would have tried to stop me.

Within the first ¼ mile I started wishing someone had stopped me.  The grade was 7% or more for the majority of the run and my hip immediately was in pain.  I thought to myself that this was probably my last run for a good long while, no Falmouth Road Race in August, no Cape Cod Marathon in October, which would mean no Boston Marathon 2013.  I decided that if I was going to be out for a while at least my final run would be a great scenic one.  As I was running I remembered something that my Uncle Steve had told me, that you can never run slow enough when training for endurance.  Sure, this was in reference to my marathon training, but I thought that slowing down would not only let me appreciate my surroundings more but it might also save my hip.  It did.

Before I had gone a full mile my hip felt better, my legs loosened up, and my run went from being a death knell to being the most amazing run I had ever done.  I didn’t care about time, this was not a race, hell, it wasn’t even any sort of training run.  This was, as my good friend Deanna would love to hear, running for fun.  I stopped and took photos of the mountains and took the time to wave to just about every passing car.  The reason for that was so lots of people saw me in case I got jumped by a bear or something.  Hey, no cell reception meant no calling for help, right?

My original turnaround point was Lily Pond, a spot just over 2 ½ miles from Kancamagus Pass.  I got there, took some pictures, and breathed in the air before deciding it wasn’t enough.  I wanted to go further.  Something was happening along that highway.  My hip was not healed, oh by no means, but the dire prophecy of it being ‘the end’ was disappearing.  I could now concentrate on running and the experience of running The Kanc, and not about whether my hip was going to give and I was going to need an ambulance.

After close to 4 miles of running steeply downhill I knew that it was time to head back, clouds were rolling in and I knew that if it rained there was no way I could sprint back to my car uphill.  Besides, I had gone further than I expected and was in relatively little pain, especially when it hurt to lie on my left side even a few days earlier. 

I began my ascent back to Kancamagus Pass, going very slowly, close to 10 min. pace, my hips were getting a workout for sure.  The 7% grade ended up being classified as a Grade 2 climb on MapMyRun.com.  The scale was 1-5, with 5 being lowest, so I felt even better about what I had done afterward when I saw that statistic.

As much as I enjoyed the scenery, and the runner’s high that came with 7 ½ miles of steep hill running, I was still looking forward to stretching and then relaxing.  I made sure to take a photo of the sign designating the elevation I had just run at, just in case anyone wanted proof.  Despite it being cloudy I stuck around Kancamagus Pass for a while longer just thinking about what I had done, and how I had felt before I ran compared to after.

Running The Kanc was a once in a lifetime run, my excuse to live more might have saved my running soul.  Sure I am still achy in my hip, but if The Kanc didn’t break me than nothing short of running Mt. Everest will.  In my time as a runner I have wanted to continually push myself past my limits, this was no different.  Most people for their first ‘rehab’ run might do 2 miles on a treadmill.  Me?  I did 7 ½ through the White Mountains.  I am not saying I’m some sort of machine, that’s Emily’s department not mine, I am probably pretty stupid for risking my health.  Since I never thought I would be ‘able’ to run I now want to see just how far these legs can take me.  I’d rather have been hurt running The Kanc than jogging on a treadmill, at least I’d have a damn good story.

Isn’t that what life is all about?  Seeing just how far you can go?  It’s all about risks, if you don’t try you don’t get anywhere, you don’t fail, but you don’t succeed either.  I am happy with myself today knowing that I set out to run The Kanc and have done it.  

Running gets your body in better shape, and I feel it has gotten my mind into better shape.  If there is a ‘runner’s high’ is there also ‘runner’s depression’ if you can’t run?  What are your ultimate ‘dream runs?’  Mine is the Honolulu Marathon, 2014 might be when that happens.  Until then, every mile is a story of its own.     

The White Mountain landscape along 'The Kanc.'

When I finally was able to enjoy what I was doing.

Lily Pond

I wasn't kidding about the elevation.

This is actually less of a slope than I ran most of the time, still looks steep.

Good Weather and Good Health Does Not Always Make For A Good Race

The 2012 St. Peter’s Fiesta Road Race was the first event that I had done for a second year.  For those of you not familiar with my 2011 race in Gloucester, Massachusetts I can sum it up pretty quickly.  I went into it with a painful right Achilles and Runner’s Knee in my left knee.  It was also cloudy, rainy, and raw in late-June.  I ran the 5K in 22:48 and was happy with the time all things considered.

This year was to be totally different.  Another full year of running under my belt, no injuries, and a sunny evening to run the race.  It all set up for a great time, or so I thought.

I arrived in Gloucester a few hours early as I did last year.  I love the historic fishing village and enjoy taking in my favorite sites as a way to keep my mind clear before running.  I visited The Man at the Wheel statue, Stage Fort Park, and Hammond Castle.  There was a farmer’s market at Stage Fort Park and I was tempted to buy some veggies and wine but then realized that there would be several hours where my purchases sat in my hot car so I decided against it.  After sight-seeing I hit the YMCA.  There I got my number and t-shirt and changed in the locker room.  I was all by myself after the last man left the pool and vacated the locker room.  It gave me time to think about where I came from and where I was going as a runner.  I tend to get philosophical before and after races.

I got down to the starting line nearly an hour early as I like to do.  I enjoy easing my way through my stretches while getting amped up with my music.  The St. Peter’s Fiesta, celebrating Italian Heritage, was in full swing.  Last year with the rain the carnival was pretty much closed so I wandered around empty food stands and rides.  This year people were everywhere and the smell of sausages and fried dough made it difficult at times to focus. 

I stretched up on the bleachers and then down by the water.  As I tend to do before races I needed to thank my best friend Emily, since it was she who finally convinced me to start running in March 2011.  She was actually running outside at the same time back on Cape Cod, it was sort of fitting.

I got set at the starting line, I chose the 8 minute mile marker to plant myself.  With hundreds of people lined up on the road you’d think that drivers would avoid the road, well you’d be mistaken.  One car full of complete idiots decided to drive straight through all of us, beeping their horn to get people to move.  They ended up being lucky that all of us didn’t decide to just tip their car over. 

Back to the actual race and the minute markers.  You’d think other people would pay attention to those and choose their starting point accordingly but no.  The horn sounds and there’s a gaggle of slow pokes clogging up the road in front of me.  I was walking, bouncing, trotting, and finally busting out in an angry sprint up onto the sidewalk and past those folks.

I was using my Uncle Steve’s Garmin GPS watch which I kept checking my pace on.  Through 2 miles I was consistently 6:45-6:50.  Then I began to notice that the sun made this race hotter and more humid than last year.  I was gassing out and having difficulty catching my breath which naturally made me slow down.  In the sun, heat, and humidity I noticed the hills that the course held.  It was a beautiful run in my favorite town but as far as the overall result it was not there.

Despite being tired I managed to finish in 22:57.  Not quite where I wanted to be, I had hoped the weather and my good health would result in a sub-22 minute run.  I was pouring sweat and chugged a pair of Gatorades and a few bananas.  My only saving grace was that despite my less than stellar time I did not come out of the race with any injuries.  As with the year before I didn’t stick around too long after the race.  I didn’t win any awards and had a 2-hour drive home with work early the next morning so I got a jump on any other people leaving.

As I gazed upon the incredible sunset driving home along Rt. 128 I barely had time to think of what I could have done better in this race.  I had scheduled a second race 5 days later and had to prepare for that one.  I may not have set a personal best at the 2012 St. Peter’s Fiesta Road Race but there’s always 2013, I will be back for my 3^rd try then.
Have any of you runners ever had a race with perfect weather where you felt great but the results just didn't happen?

The t-shirt logo

The Man at the Wheel Statue

One of the views at Hammond Castle

Not too happy with the sea of slow people who planted themselves ahead of me.