Halfway There

I ran the Scotiabank Half marathon here in Vancouver on June 28, with a time of 2:11:24. Not bad, especially because I felt strong at the end of the race, and the next morning I woke up and wanted to do it all over again.

I learned a valuable lesson about pace, in that I have no idea about what is optimum or what's going to knock me out. I managed to spot a woman who was running at what seemed like the right pace and I followed her for several k, just before the 10k mark. Then, because I felt good, I took off...and she caught up to me at the 18.5 k mark, at which point I was plodding and losing time. So I tucked in behind her again, and her pace was magic...she took me to the finish line. I showed no gratitude and sprinted the last 500 metres, just because I was happy and relieved.

The marathon equivalent is still a long way from 4 hours...I have my work cut out for me, but I also have until February to qualify. The key is that I'm in the best shape I've been in for years...and that includes my attitude.

Woo-hoo!

Once More With Feeling

Just so you know... I'm back. The quest for Boston continues. I plan to run a marathon in October in under 4 hours.

I know, I know. I might as well announce I plan to grow cabbages on the dark side of the moon, and that will have as much credibility.

But, when you think about it, it makes sense. When the wheels fell off at 26 k at the May 3 Vancouver marathon, I was running well, then boom...cramps.

Because I didn't try to be heroic and run the whole thing, I've been able to recover fully and I'm ready to train for another crack at qualifying.

I have even arranged another window to deliver the book Running to Boston to the publisher, so here I am, a man with a mission and a plan.

So stay tuned. This time, it's going to happen.

Setback #....

The dreaded Did Not Finish.

I should be used to setbacks by now, but I have to admit, yesterday's was a humdinger, and there's a word you don't hear too much any more.

I pulled up with cramps at Kilo 25 (15.5 miles) and pulled myself out of the race. Maybe I'm fooling myself, but at that point, the 4 hour pace bunny was still in sight and I was thinking I had a chance to succeed. Of course the last 10 miles are the hardest, but we'll never know, as the calf cramps were so bad, there was no question of continuing on.

So I limped back to my car, trying to get things into perspective. 

It's the next day, and "perspective" remains elusive, but I thought I'd post the results (or lack of them). Once perspective emerges from its hole, I'll capture it and get back to you with some more complete thoughts.

This marathon thing is a long and winding road...

Paul  

The Great White Whale

So it's only 2 days 14 hours 33 minutes  and 20 seconds until the Vancouver Marathon.  

I'm not ready. I'll never be ready, so I might as well just show up and run the damn thing.

The quest to qualify for the Boston Marathon is very much like Captain Ahab and the white whale. I guess it's a "healthy" obsession, unlike the hunt for Moby Dick, but it certainly defines me in much the same way Moby Dick defined Ahab.

So it will be outstanding to get the whale off my back.

Do I think I can make it? Well, sometimes I think yes, and other times I think no. Last Saturday, for example, I went for a great nine mile run, at a pace even faster than the 9:11 required to run a qualifying marathon, and I was feeling pretty good. If I can duplicate that and keep it going for 26.2 miles, I'll be Boston-bound.

26.2 miles is a long way. Counting training runs, I think I've run that far up to 50 times over the years and it never gets easier, does it?

Today, it seems like a long way; I suspect that on Sunday it won't seem so far, as I try to keep up with the 4 hour pace bunny. 

One final note. I'd like to dedicate this run to Rick Roberts, a training partner who had this race in his sights before he found out he had cancer. Whenever I starting whining about how hard it is, I'll think of Rick -- who really has something to bitch about -- and that will shut me up.

See you all at the finish line.

Paul

Why I Really Run

I'm not sure when the penny finally dropped, but drop it has.

It turns out I don't really run to be physically healthy. I really run for mental health. It may seem obvious to someone with a little distance on the matter, but as I'm often lost among the trees of my own life, this revelation comes as a shot out of the blue. 

And it feels like "oh."

And it feels like "a-ha."

It all happened sometime this morning. I got up at the usual time, around 5:45, and staggered around groggily for a while, allowing the routine to give me directions. Then, at some point, before I knew it, I was operating in a state of high normal: relacing a pair of running shoes,(which is an early morning IQ test) sorting socks out of the laundry basket, assembling the trash and recycling to take to the curb, answering emails, toasting a bagel...and humming.

Yes, humming. Not that more familiar drone of high anxiety, which is more like eeeeeeeeeee, but with a sense of cheerful well-being. I was awake, alert, almost bouncy with what felt like good health. It was such a surprise, I say down at the table, drank some coffee, and started to take stock.

Here's what I think is going on: around the time I postponed Surf City, I realized that in giving up on the 2009 Boston, I had just gained 15 minutes of qualifying time because I will turn 60 before the 2010 Boston Marathon...and it's your age on the day of the race that determines your qualifying time. And 4 hours, 59 seconds seemed more likely than 3:45:59. I redoubled my efforts, vowing not to miss a single scheduled workout nor go off Coach Shayla's nutritional plan. And so, since mid-January, I've been single-minded and disciplined. I've even given up diet pop, which I fondly regard as my last vice.

And, duh, I have felt better and better. I've  lost 20-22 pounds in two and a half months. That has made running easier, and I can now run at the required marathon pace for at least 12-13 miles, which is as far as I've run at that pace to date -- on Saturday, I ran hills for the last five miles of a 17-mile run, and couldn't keep the pace up -- no hills on the marathon course, however, and it's still a month away, so I'm beginning to feel that it will be a fair fight come May 3 when I line up at the starting line of the Vancouver Marathon.

But whatever happens on that day, here's my happy little secret: I've already reached my goal! I just didn't know it was my goal.

I've been part of the way before...I've been leaner and faster and even stronger, but I've never felt as healthy.  Or maybe more accurately, I've never felt as grateful for feeling healthy.

So now I get it, in a way that all the current commentators and chroniclers on the importance of fitness  don't really make clear, or if they do, (and I'm willing to concede that I'm the problem, not the rest of the world ;-), it has taken a long, very long time to penetrate my thick skull.

It's finally clear that it's not about qualifying for Boston; it's not about extending life or preventing disease; it's not about avoiding prescription meds or defeating gravity, it's not about looking good; it's not even about feeling good, in that marvellous, clear-eyed animal way, although it is about all those things, too. What it's really about is receiving the greatest gift a human being can get: the gift of mental health.

Mental health is probably like the colour blue...even though we all know what we mean, it is different for every individual. To me, mental health means I can experience great joy in all the good things and people around me yet not let myself be overwhelmed by the darkness out there or inside, where shadows also linger. I now believe that I can vanquish those interior shadows, but that might be the enthusiasm talking.

The irony is that it's simple. Eat well, follow a sound nutritional and exercise plan, get enough sleep, and voila, mental health follows. 

I can hear the protests..."wait a minute! I suffer from a real disease!" (fill in appropriate disease here) I hasten to add that physical or mental health may not be attainable under present circumstances through no fault of your own. Call it a universal disclaimer. 

But...

I've had more than my share of: personal tragedies, diseases, addictions, and personal failings, including the inability to see the light even when it's shining in my eyes. I mean, I'm 59 years old, and I've enjoyed real mental health for about six weeks. I realize that I could end up in the hospital or the Slough of Despond next Thursday, but it's clear to me that I have, within my own resources, the best medicine there is: diet and exercise. I just had to find the right level -- too little is just not enough, and too much leads to injury and breakdown. But here I am, about 185 pounds, running 40 miles a week, working out in the weight room, on the spin cycle and in the pool, eating consciously and carefully, and the biggest benefit has been mental.

I realize that mental well-being is fragile -- as fragile and precious as physical well-being. But now that I have a measure of it, I will work hard, as hard as I'm able, to hang onto it. I may be disappointed if I don't finish the Vancouver Marathon under 4:00:59, but that will be tempered by gratitude.  

This time, I like to think, I'll remember, I'll be mindful. I won't bury my new found insight under a mountain of fatburgers or double pepperoni and quattro fromaggio and such crap. I won't feel sorry for myself because I'm not as fast or as pretty as I was when I was 28. And I won't take it out on the people who, by some miracle I don't really understand, still love me.

...Next time, remind me to talk about "play" and "recreation" as a viable substitute for "workout" and "physical fitness."

I Ran 19 Miles on My 59th Birthday

March 7, 2009, I turned 59 and went for a 19-mile run. No special commemoration--it was on the program that Coach Shayla Roberts has devised leading up to the May 3 Vancouver Marathon.

And the cool thing about it? Not really that big a deal. I felt pretty strong throughout the run, and didn't feel beat down for the rest of the day, which indicates to me that the training program I'm on has really taken hold.

And then the following Saturday, I ran 20, which was a bit harder...perhaps because I had not fully recovered from the previous long run. I've got a 16-miler coming up this week, so we'll see how it's going.

Also good: I weighed in under 190 pounds for the first time since 2005, when I barely tipped the scale at Thursday's weigh-in at 187.5. I no longer have to contend with tight clothing, so this race to qualify for the Boston marathon has its spin-off benefits. 

I still wonder if I'm going to make it -- I can run sub-9 minute miles on the treadmill, but it's very difficult to gauge how fast I'm going out on the road. There is no margin for error--no time to get sick or injured. Today, poor Lance Armstrong broke his collarbone on his quest for an 8th Tour de France at 37, and I can sympathize. At this point, all I can do is stay on the program and pray for optimum health on May 3.

I'm also ramping up the visualization exercises. I'm trying to channel what it looks, feels, even smells like to run 26.2 miles under 4 hours. I've done it at least 4 times before at wildly divergent ages, the last time being the California International Marathon in 2004. At the time, I was trying for 3:45, so it felt like a failure to me. However, I felt great for 18 miles...so I'm trying to capture the optimism that went with the attempt, and marry it to the better form and strength I can bring to the race now. 

Finally, I still have time to lose another 10 pounds, which would make me lighter than 2004, and if everything else is working, that will give me a psychological edge.

Stay tuned!

Paul 

The Good Week

Here in Vancouver, for the last couple of weeks, we're finally getting the kind of weather that induces people to move here from the Rest of Canada (ROC), which means 7-10 celsius days accompanied by Sunshine Lite...rarely are you required to wear sunglasses or flip the visor down to keep the sun out of your eyes while driving...it's always filtered through vaporous clouds or mist.

It may not be beach weather, but it's ideal running weather, and I've taken advantage of it by making every run on the schedule. They haven't all been gems, but I've worked hard to make each one a quality run. And it may be my imagination, but could it be I'm starting to feel stronger and faster?

For one thing, I've lost 7 or 8 pounds in the last couple of weeks. It's just made me feel a bit lighter on my feet and even up the hills, I don't feel the usual lead in my legs and my butt. 

It's also possible that the last stretch of consistency in training is finally paying off. For some reason, Gravity, that constant pernicious foe, is hanging back for a brief moment.

So, success, be it ever so humble, breeds determination. I still have a lot of work to do: It's only 13.5 weeks from the Vancouver Marathon. But because I'll be trying to qualify for the 2010 Boston race, the target has also changed -- I'm now looking at a four-hour marathon, which seems a little less impossible than 3:45 -- because I'll be 60 when the 2010 race is run.

I'm going to need a break. I went over the results of the Surf City Marathon, and noticed there were 11 guys between 55 and 59 who ran a qualifying marathon. One of them, some superman from Santa Rosa Valley California, ran the race in sub-7 minute miles. But that's out of almost 100 guys in that age category who finished the race, or about 10 per cent. So, it's confirmed...it's not easy to qualify.

Not easy, but not impossible either. Stay tuned.