Monthly Archives: February 2009

by | February 15, 2009 · 3:31 am

First DC race day!

I started the day today with a musket shot from George Washington.

OK, it was more like a pop gun shot by a dude in a Revolutionary War costume, but it was a memorable way to start the morning — and my first road race in the Washington area — nonetheless.

The George Washington Classic 10K was a nice, flat route along Eisenhower Avenue and through a few local parks in Alexandria. We had perfect running weather, about 40 degrees and sunny, and got cool fleece running hats for our efforts, making the race worth the time before we even started.

All week, I’ve been puzzling over the right way to race a 10K. I’m typically about an 8:30-minute-mile girl for a 10K. But since Steve and I started doing group runs with Pacers, we’ve realized that this is also our pace for our everyday five-mile runs — hard, but conversational. Which suggests that perhaps my 10K pace should be faster.

I figured the solution was to pick up the pace a bit in this 10K.

Here’s how it went down:
Ran the first mile in 7:30 (oops!)
Ran my best 5K time since high school, 24 minutes (ooh!)
Felt like I’d been hit by a truck by mile 5, and was passed by what looked like the majority of my age group, plus most of the master’s age groups, too (ugh)
Still ran a better time than my usual, 51:31 according to my purple Timex. That’s 8:18-minute-miles, which is … faster than 8:30?

Not sure where this leaves me as far as my race strategy, or lack thereof. Does anyone know the right way to race a 10K? If so, please enlighten me by posting a comment.

***Editor’s note: Shortly after writing this post, I looked up the race results and found this note on top:
“Today’s event was measured at 6.4 miles. We sincerely apologize for the course error; pace has been calculated at 6.4 miles. -GW Birthday Classic Race Committee.”
Oh, snap! My new pace? 8:07-minute miles! I also feel the need to give Steve a shout-out for running a 47:58, which meant he was doing super-human 7:30-minute miles.

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by | February 13, 2009 · 4:44 pm

Surviving the ice bath

I had a fabulous 10-mile run yesterday in neighborhoods around Rock Creek Park and Seminary Road in Silver Spring. I felt so good, I actually added extra hill loops at the end, despite being within site of my building (the point at which I usually say, “Screw this,” and run home).

How did I reward myself? My dunking myself in a pool of ice-cold water, of course.

The ice bath is one of those bizarre rituals of the long-distance runner that’s really hard to understand until you’ve done a few long runs and experienced the soreness that follows. Since I’m now the queen of injury prevention, the ice bath has become a regular part of my training program.

Physical therapist and ultrarunner Nikki Kimball explains the science behind the ice bath here, and notes that her favorite way to employ it is with “a post-race soak in a cold river or lake with fellow competitors.”

Here’s how it works in real life: You limp over to a supermarket or gas station immediately following a long run. You buy one or two bags of ice, and possibly a bottle of Advil as a side dish. You ignore the worried and confused stares of the checkout clerk and others around you. You proceed home, dump the ice in your bathtub, fill the tub enough cold water to cover your legs, and … get in.

Kimball recommends coping this way: “I put on a down jacket and a hat and neoprene booties, make myself a cup of hot tea, and collect some entertaining reading material to help the next 15 to 20 minutes pass quickly.”

I personally like Deena Kastor’s strategy. The Olympic marathoner told Runner’s World recently she likes to crank up a Madonna CD and sing along at the top of her lungs until her legs have acclimated (i.e., gone numb). Might be worth a try. If you hear me singing “Like a Prayer” (broken by some whimpers), you’ll know what’s happening.

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by | February 12, 2009 · 6:46 pm

A lesson in cross-training (and humility)

Wednesdays are cross-training days, which has come to mean a post-work date at the pool for me and Steve.

This week, our pool is closed for repairs, leaving me scrambling for a quick but efficient way to cross-train.

Steve recently started doing P90X videos with some people at work, so I decided to try my own plyometrics workout at home. Mine involved most of the exercises described here, plus some sets of push ups and regular, non-jumping lunges, broken up by two-minute spurts of running up the stairwell of our apartment building. I only ran into one neighbor on the stairs, making this not nearly as humiliating a venture as it could have been.

Here’s what was humiliating about this workout: I started out scoffing at the 6-inch cone suggested for use with jumps. Clearly, I thought, I could jump higher than 6 inches. Where’s the challenge here? I found a 5-inch tall tissue box and got to work. Roughly 30 seconds into the workout, I nearly fell flat on my face during the front-to-back jumps, completely crushing the tissue box in the process.

Here’s what was great about this workout: Keeping your heart rate up so high makes it really, truly possible to fit in a killer workout in 30 minutes, a claim I’m always skeptical about when I see it on workout videos and the like. I was literally dizzy at some points. I would definitely recommend this workout for days when you truly don’t have time for a workout, but want to do one anyway. A word of caution: Those nursing running injuries may want to proceed with caution, as my hip is feeling awfully creaky today.

I have a 10-mile run today, followed by an off day on Friday and a 10K in Alexandria on Saturday morning. I’m hoping to see some awesome Valentine’s Day costumes to make me forget about the blistering cold forecast for race day.

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by | February 11, 2009 · 2:34 pm

Conquering the hills

I grew up on top of a steep hill in a town called Highlands, N.J., named for the hills that rose sharply above the water. I then moved to Colorado, where I literally ran up mountains for fun.

Then, I moved to Florida, and my thigh muscles promptly forgot they’d ever seen a hill. I only lived in the Sunshine State for four years, but those four years effectively wiped out a lifetime of hill training, which was made all too clear during my first serious hill workout here. It was one of our first Pacers group runs, and we had a great time chatting with our fellow runners; until the hills rendered us physically unable to do anything but wheeze and spit. Running that route was like trying on your skinny jeans after the holidays — a painful confirmation of the fact that you’ve got some work to do.

So I greeted the news that we were running the same route again last night with trepidation.

I was Steve-less again, but this time, when the store manager asked for runners in the 8:30- 9-minute mile range, I found a healthy group in the same range as me. The group stayed together pretty much the whole route, which turns out to not be so bad after all. It’s a really gorgeous, if hilly, run through some of Silver Spring’s prettiest neighborhoods. We finished what mapmyrun.com counts as a 5.4 miler in 45 minutes. I’m never sure how much faith to put in mapmyrun’s distances. But whatever our pace was, it felt great — one of those nights where the route seems almost unfairly fast.

“Great run,” said one member of the group as we skidded to a stop back at the store. She sounded as surprised as I was.

Looking to improve your hills? Try these common-sense hill workouts from Runner’s World columnist Ed Eyestone.

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by | February 10, 2009 · 1:56 pm

The beauty of the long run

When I set out to do my first half-marathon a couple years ago, I was surprised to see how similar the beginner training schedule was to my happy-go-lucky, goal-less running log. For the most part, it consisted of runs in the 3-ish mile range, with a couple days of speedwork thrown in.

The exception was the long run, that once-weekly push to make your body go longer than it’s gone before to trick it into thinking it can go the distance on race day. At the time, each week’s long run was a mile longer than I’d ever run before — first eight, then nine, then the astonishing 10 miles. I honored each one as an event rather than just a workout, taking hours to plan routes, print maps and write out directions (necessary steps, given my propensity for lost-ness).

I’ve since done training runs twice that long, and have gotten to the point that even a 10-mile run, the longest my half-marathon training schedule calls for, is something I can squeeze in before breakfast. But I still honor the long run as the most important part of training for any distance race. In my opinion, they’re sort of the whole reason training for a distance event is special (how many 3-mile loops around your neighborhood have you described as life-changing?).

This past weekend, I cobbled together a long run from two separate Pacers routes, the Alaska loop and the out-and-back to East West Highway, and added a mile or so on 16th Street. I set out first thing on Saturday morning, and felt energized and strong from the start. I have no idea what pace I was running. I only know that I finished what I thought would be a 10-mile loop about 20 minutes faster than I expected to. It was a welcome surprise, given that my last 8-miler made me want to suit this sport and take up bowling, or maybe chess.

I have yet to encounter a runner who’s trained for a marathon who hasn’t had some sort of memorable encounter on a long run. One friend got a ride home from a fire truck when her long run got rained out. Another found got directions and a free Gatorade from a gas station convenience store. Yet another accidentally dropped in on a road race, and enjoyed water stops and cheering crowds for a few of his 20 miles.

I had my first such encounter of this training cycle on this week’s run, when I felt a sudden and urgent need for a restroom at about the farthest point from home I could be. I hadn’t planned on a detour for this purpose, so I took my chances at a large, modern-looking church in an otherwise residential neighborhood. The doors were locked. Blast! I had almost walked away when a member of the leaning crew opened the door to let me in. I would have hugged her if I wasn’t in such a rush to get to the ladies’ room. It was just a small encounter, but the sort of thing that makes the long run feel less like a workout and more like a journey.

Have a good long-run story? Share it by posting a comment below.

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by | February 9, 2009 · 6:34 pm

Slow legs, cool route

Lake Needwood saved my run today.

My legs were pretty much out of juice from a weekend that included a long run (a max of 10 miles for half-marathon-training purposes, but still) and lots of mogul skiing, so I knew I’d need something scenic to take my mind of being tired. A part-dirt, part-gravel trail around Lake Needwood, a 75-acre lake in the middle of Rock Creek Regional Park in Rockville, totally delivered.

The 7-mile trail around the lake, which was peaceful today in its near-frozen state, connects to the Rock Creek Hiker Biker Trail, so lots of runners use it as an extension of long runs. But the shorter section I did today proved you don’t have to stray from the lake to get a great workout.

Here’s the thing that truly saved me from napping instead of running today: It’s not only a pretty route, but a variable one. Some sections hug the lakeshore. Others climb through the woods above the lake, providing great aerial views. And if you need more variety or more distance, you can always hit up a section of Rock Creek Hiker Biker Trail.

Stay tuned for more about the excellent 10-miler I ran over the weekend …

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by | February 6, 2009 · 7:53 pm

The power of flexibility

I am circus-freak flexible.

Like, put-one-leg-behind-my-head flexible.

It’s one of those weird genetic quirks that always astounds new workout partners and crowds at races (no matter how clandestine I try to be while stretching before a race, inevitably, there’s the dude who approaches to say: “That looks like it hurts.”).

Problem is, the Gumby–ness in my muscles doesn’t translate to my psyche. I am a maker of lists and a keeper of plans, so when something sidelines my workout, like the killer migraine that set in last night and kept me in bed with the curtains closed all day today, I don’t deal well.

The migraine, which was truly the worst I’ve had in years, sent me to bed rather than on my fun run tonight and long run this morning. In normal circumstances, napping is a physical impossibility for me. In a testament to just how crappy I felt, I have slept 24 hours off and on since about 9:30 last night. I just recently emerged feeling a little better, but terribly guilty.

I flipped open my most recent issue of Runner’s World to a great story I wish I could link to called “Never Get Hurt.” In addition to an awesome preventative workout, it included tips for avoiding injury. My eyes scanned to this blurb first:

“Many runners become so compulsive about training that they refuse to miss a day regardless of the circumstances, says Michael Sachs, professor of kinesiology at Temple University. It becomes a matter of control, he says — who is in control, you or the running?”

Um. Me? OK, fine, maybe it’s not a good idea to attempt even a quickie speed workout on the treadmill when I’m still a little dizzy from migraine meds (even though this is my second day off in a row — gaaah!). There’s always tomorrow, right? For today, I decided to do some yoga instead to exercise my mental AND physical flexibility.

P.S. – Why is it that on the days I do have long runs, all I want is to have a day off?

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by | February 5, 2009 · 1:42 pm

A partner in crime, part trois

A few words about my favorite training partner:

It has been almost a decade since we’ve actually physically run together, but she’s one of my biggest supporters and motivators.

We ran cross-country together in high school for a team so small, we barely qualified for competition. Somehow, despite this fact, we didn’t always lose.

I can’t remember a race we didn’t finish together. I also can’t remember having to wait up for her, or having to pick up the pace to keep up.

We were true middle-of-the-packers. In one divisional race, we were handed popsicle sticks denoting our place finish among hundreds of other runners. The numbers on our two sticks were literally the number of people in the race divided by two.

After dozens of hill workouts together, we can communicate solely by spitting and grunting. We try to limit that to while we’re running.

We rewarded our long runs (anything longer than 3 miles at that point) with Hey Daddy bagels, perhaps the best thing to come out of New Jersey besides the Boss (and, of course, us).

We reward long runs with glasses of wine now. We haven’t lived in the same place for a decade. But we still call to congratulate each other after a race. In fact, my marathon finish didn’t feel real until I talked to Jen on the phone afterwards while soaking in the longest ice bath known to man. It’s a testament to our friendship and her conversational skills that the 30-minute ice bath flew by.

I peer-pressured her into running a half marathon around the same time I ran that marathon. She had a great finish, but I think I speak for both of us in saying the finish of either race was far from the best part. It was the way we’d call each other at random times throughout the day to talk about training: our aches and pains, our preference in long-run fuel and the best kind of recovery drink (we like chocolate milk). These topics inevitably led to longer talks about husbands and jobs and life and stuff.

Jen came to visit last weekend with the third member of our trio, Alexis, who didn’t run with us but is an avid cheerleader and supporter in running and in life. Jen and I didn’t get a chance to run together. But we did set a date.

We’re going to do the Broad Street Run in Philadelphia on May 3. With almost 20,000 runners, it bills itself as the largest 10-miler in the United States. I imagine Jen and I will finish right around 10,000. I’m sure we’ll be side by side.

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by | February 4, 2009 · 2:43 pm

All by myself

Pushing yourself out of your comfort zone almost always pays off. Last night, my first solo Pacers run provided a great reminder of that.

Bi-weekly runs with our local running store have become staples of mine and Steve’s running lives. The “fun runs” take us from Pacers Silver Spring to points throughout SS and DC on Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

Problem is, Steve started grad school last week. His classes are on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, meaning I’m on my own for Pacers.

I made like Celine Dion last night and went all by myself, with some slight reservations. It’s not a social-anxiety thing; I’ll yammer away to strangers all day long. It’s more of a performance-anxiety thing. See, with Steve by my side, I feel perfectly comfortable heading out with the faster pace groups, knowing that if I fall behind, I can drag Steve down with me. He’s also contractually obligated to make sure I don’t get lost (this wasn’t in our vows per se, but it was an implicit agreement he’s lived up to beautifully so far).

Last night, we were doing our familiar 5.2-mile Alaska route, which eased my worries a bit. We broke up into pace groups. First, the 7:30s left, then the 8s.

“8:30?” said the store manager, with a glance in my direction. I shrugged and nodded, then looked around, feeling very much like I was waiting to get picked up for a relay team in gym class. No takers. A few kind souls opted in for 9-minute miles, and we headed out.

As usual, I was worried about nothing. I had a great time yammering away with a store employee who’s a student at American University, and who, I learned toward the end of the run, is training for the Boston Marathon. She qualified with a time of 3:30. I, on the other hand, figured out recently that for my marathon time to qualify me for Boston, I’d have to be 75 years old.

But it was a great run, and while I no doubt slowed down my faster, younger running companion, I also got an ego boost when I told her my goal of finishing the half marathon in less than two hours again.

“With the pace we’re doing right now, that should be no problem for you,” she said. I’m choosing to believe her.

In other news, I found my next race. It’s the George Washington Classic 10K in Alexandria on Valentine’s Day. If that doesn’t sound appealing, check out the nearby Chocolate Mile on Feb. 8. It’s pretty self-explanatory: You run a mile, you get the chocolate. Sweet!


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by | February 3, 2009 · 2:27 pm

The magic playlist

My post last week started a really wonderful conversation about running playlists. After getting some truly excellent suggestions for songs to add to my tired old rotation (Walking on Sunshine by Katrina & the Waves and Miami by Will Smith will warm you up faster than a killer hill workout), I thought it was only fair to share the playlist that’s rocking my running world right now. I’m still hunting for new songs to freshen up my February running mix. Got more ideas? Please, please, please share ’em below!

You Can Do it – Ice Cube
Unwritten – Natasha Beddingfield
The Watcher – Dr. Dre
Til I Collapse – Eminem
What’s the Difference – Dr. Dre
Kick in the Door – The Notorious B.I.G.
Two Step, Live at Red Rocks – Dave Matthews Band
Halleluja – Jeff Buckley
How It Ends – DeVotchka
Fight the Power – Public Enemy
Fugeela – The Fugees
City of Blinding Lights – U2
Run On – Moby
Survivor – Destiny’s Child
Scenario – Tribe Called Quest
M-E-T-H-O-D Man – Wu Tang Clan
Moving to New York – The Wombats

Also check out the Run, Fat Boy, Run soundtrack, which includes a song by the Fratellis that’s perfect to start a race to. Stay tuned for a post about why this movie pumped me up more than Prefontaine ever could.

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