Former 2:24 marathoner, now in my late 40s and hoping to maximally flatten the curve of my slide into senescence and mediocrity • Magazine writer, book editor and author, and commentator on the sport of distance running since 1999 • Adviser and confidant of other perambulators • Paradoxical hater of exercise fanatics • Chihuahua whisperer Sentence-fragment impresario

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Elite-level motivation: It's not (quite) what you think

Last week, I did a very hard but rewarding 45-minute structured fartlek workout here in Boulder, elevation 5,300’ (give or take). My coach, a two-time Olympian and extraordinarily warm and generous human being named Kathy Butler, has a way of setting up workouts that look fairly modest on paper but turn out to be gut-busters in the execution. This one, however, looked brutal even on paper.

When we were warming up, one or two of my mates were assessing the paved loop we’d be doing the workout on, a circuit of roughly 6K on the east side of town. This loop is about as flat as it gets, but you wouldn’t have known it from some of the clucking and banter. Probably the strongest athlete in the bunch was lamenting turning into a 200-meter-long “hill” halfway through the loop that would barely have been detectable using surveyor’s tools. Another was concerned about the wind being in our faces in the second half of the circuit; this wind didn’t even qualify as a zephyr, and if anything was welcome because of the warm-ish morning. Someone else grumbled, “I don’t even know if I can #*()& do this,” although no reason was given.

Although I have been a serious runner for over 30 years, this habit is not what landed me in Boulder, at least not directly. A lot of people do, however, specifically move here for the running – the “vibe” as much as the physical environment. I routinely see Olympians and national record-holders on the local roads and trails as well as in the coffee shops. There are, in other words, a lot of extremely dedicated distance runners within immediate reach.

Read the rest at Lowell Running.

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Sports drinks and Boulder

Boulder's sugary beverage tax, which took effect on July 1, 2017, is misguided. Stupid, actually. Not necessarily the entire concept, but the blunt-force way in which it was applied.

First, I'll disclose that I never, ever buy sweetened beverages. Ever. That way, on the extremely rare occasions I do buy these products, I can project both righteousness and detachment when I complain about pertinent policies.

Monday, August 13, 2018

Not enough heart...

...beats.

I went a dozen miles north to Longmont on Saturday to run a 2M race, the stepchild event of the Sunrise Stampede 10K. I did this primarily to get a read on my honest capabilities over 5,000 meters at sea level. The 5K was never close to my favorite distance back when it was legitimate for races to issue me official entries, but it's a convenient and revealing fitness test.

I decided that if I can't break 17:00 by the end of this year or record a defensibly comparable time at a different distance, I'm not going to race anymore. The sense of futility in lumbering along in ungainly fashion at dismal paces, and having this be red-lining, is mortifying, and it will only get worse if I keep staining events with my ridiculous presence.

Saturday, August 11, 2018

Toni Reavis must hate Chicago

This might be the most spectacularly short-sighted sports blog entry I've ever seen from an experienced observer. The core idea is not on the level of absurdity of, say, a Space Force, but it's grim. I'm treating it as 95 percent joke and 5 percent serious despite the pleas of its author, longtime running commentator Toni Reavis, to at least entertain the potential upsides.

Reavis is arguing that instead of putting together the loaded field they did, the Chicago organizers should have set it up so that the only two runners with a chance to win are Galen Rupp and Mo Farah. Why? Because no one who plans to watch cares about anyone else in the race, including "admittedly fast but anonymous extras who do nothing but steal the spotlight from the one thing that might get average people to stop and pay attention." Reavis presumably thinks that everyone in the audience who matters would be watching from either the U.S. or Britain.

Leave aside the absolute hilarity of the Chicago Marathon being willing to just ditch its entire elite men's elite field, and thereby cease being a World Marathon Major overnight, so that two guys -- who probably wouldn't agree to the scheme anyway -- could duke it out for two hours, sans competition. (Or don't leave it aside, since I wouldn't have brought it up at all if that's what I wanted you to do and am merely employing a standard rhetorical device here.) This is just a calamity of a parody of a good idea, something Donald Trump Jr. might say when high on bath salts if he knew anything about distance running.

Thursday, August 9, 2018

Responsible summer long runs

You may be familiar with the saying, “Variety is the spice of life.” It’s wisdom based on the sound idea that mixing up your day-to-day experiences helps keep life interesting. For example, don’t be like me and listen to the same six songs on your MP3 player for about 2,000 consecutive miles’ worth of running. (Hey, they’re great songs.)

Runners like variety because running itself — or so it’s often said — is not all that exciting. Doing runs, especially long runs, in new territory is a fine way to make the miles roll by faster (or seem to) while seeing neighborhoods and environments you don’t get to see often.

The problem with the “variety” theme is that it doesn’t often fit the needs of summer marathon training. If you have a 20-miler on your schedule, which you expect will take close to three hours, and the forecast calls for 85 degrees with 90 percent humidity by 9 a.m., then the last thing you really want to do is meet a group of people to run a single long loop with no assurance you’ll be able to get anything into your body along the way besides a few gulps of H2O from a park water fountain and whatever gels you can carry.

When I got serious about marathon training in the mid- to late 1990s, I became a strong believer in the power of marathon-pace long runs, which at the time were curiously underutilized among faster runners, at least in the U.S. I wound up writing an article for Running Times about these. Back then, GPS watches were a few years into the future, so finding accurately measured road routes was a far greater challenge than it is today, when you literally invent an accurate course on the go.

Read the rest at Lowell Running.

Monday, August 6, 2018

Determined to be dedicated

I have a hard time writing in approving tones of my own running these days; I think this is mainly because my life no longer revolves around episodic but crippling futility and mayhem, so a part of my mind that's all too accustomed to personal cynicism continues to revel in the idea of keeping the dissatisfaction-train chugging along somehow. Since running offers an excellent platform for falling well short of objective goals (fortunately at little true cost, if you're just an aging road hog and in no position to let down an entire high-school or NCAA team), I find myself waxing scornful about the revival of a hobby that, in all honesty, I'm actually enjoying quite a bit. For the first time in many years, running, like a lot of my good habits, isn't something I am prepared to abandon anytime soon, even if my times are still fairly gruesome. So I can at least admit that I had a nice end to the last week: Three "quality" efforts in four days, ending Sunday. And this is despite my back, which I tweaked over a week ago, not yet being 100 percent (while also not seeming to limit my running).