I'm into my third week of 8 mile runs. When I got up this morning, I had a pain in my right knee. This actually happens every so often. Generally, I ignore it and it goes away once I begin my run. Looking back over the years, I've had a lot of tinges and niggles, as well as outright injuries. The only thing that would really get in the way of me doing continuous seven day stretches of 8 mile runs is an actual injury. I haven't even considered the possibility for quite some time. Interestingly, over the past several years, I've had a variety of musculoskeletal setbacks, though most of them rarely last for more than a few days. The worst ones were directly related to falling, most of which led to rib injuries. I haven't even thought about my rib injuries in some time. I've also had a propensity to throw out my back and hip. It's been awhile since that's happened. In fact, one of my favorite injuries is my low back and hip just a few days before an Ironman. I've go no Ironman races on the horizon right now.
As I write this, the pain in my right knee is dissipating, as is the thought and concern of an injury. I can't control my body beyond my daily 8 mile runs. Doing such runs represents and leads to a degree of resiliency that I'm not sure I've ever had. That's the interesting aspect of training. You have to break down the body in order to strengthen it. That goes for our muscles and tendons, but probably also goes to our emotional state as well. Our minds and bodies take what life throws at us, and we heal. As we heal, we grow stronger, at least that's the general idea.
One of the joys of Ironman training has been getting to really know my mind and body. You don't know your limits unless you've pushed up against them. I've never really been one to worry about my limits, always setting bars that either aren't achievable, or are very difficult to achieve. There are times when that approach can actually be overwhelming, although that's really been a rare feeling. Our mind really has no limits, if we stop and think about it. Our minds are as wide as the universe. Anything is possible.
Friday, July 31, 2020
Thursday, July 30, 2020
Good Trouble
Good Trouble, the term used by John Lewis to describe how he approached bringing about change in our society, is a term that rings true to me. The moment I read about his use of the word, I immediately understood it. While I would never begin to equate the things I've fought for in my life to the things John Lewis fought for, I understand the principle. I've advocated for vulnerable older adults for the past thirty years. While few seem to care, those of us who are so passionate about this cause struggle to gain traction. That's why we need to cause good trouble. This is a concept that many of my colleagues struggle to understand. They get caught up in the trouble aspect of the terminology.
When the COVID-19 pandemic began in March, I quickly stuck my neck out. Aside from calling the pandemic the worst thing to hit nursing homes in our lifetime, I called sending COVID-19 patients into nursing homes akin to "premeditated murder." Some people thought that I was coming on too strong. If I'd lived in New York City, I wouldn't have been strong enough! We'll never know exactly how many more nursing home resident died because of this bad decision.
I'm familiar with the worst elements in the nursing home industry. Calling that out is good trouble. It's also made me radioactive to some people in the nursing home industry. So be it. I can handle that, I can live with that. What's been concerning, but not unexpected, are the colleagues who believe that I've come on too strong. I've been at this fight for over thirty years and we haven't made a lot of progress. Ageism makes it difficult to make headway in the fight to promote the health and wellbeing of older adults. Which is why good trouble rings true to me. Fortunately, and what has kept me going for the past 4 1/2 months, are the colleagues that have encouraged me to continue to speak out, who have appreciated my efforts to be their voice. I'm also becoming aware of caregivers and family members of vulnerable older adult who also appreciate our efforts. They are not afraid of our causing some good trouble. The lives and dignity of their loved ones depend on it.
When the COVID-19 pandemic began in March, I quickly stuck my neck out. Aside from calling the pandemic the worst thing to hit nursing homes in our lifetime, I called sending COVID-19 patients into nursing homes akin to "premeditated murder." Some people thought that I was coming on too strong. If I'd lived in New York City, I wouldn't have been strong enough! We'll never know exactly how many more nursing home resident died because of this bad decision.
I'm familiar with the worst elements in the nursing home industry. Calling that out is good trouble. It's also made me radioactive to some people in the nursing home industry. So be it. I can handle that, I can live with that. What's been concerning, but not unexpected, are the colleagues who believe that I've come on too strong. I've been at this fight for over thirty years and we haven't made a lot of progress. Ageism makes it difficult to make headway in the fight to promote the health and wellbeing of older adults. Which is why good trouble rings true to me. Fortunately, and what has kept me going for the past 4 1/2 months, are the colleagues that have encouraged me to continue to speak out, who have appreciated my efforts to be their voice. I'm also becoming aware of caregivers and family members of vulnerable older adult who also appreciate our efforts. They are not afraid of our causing some good trouble. The lives and dignity of their loved ones depend on it.
Wednesday, July 29, 2020
Purposeful Running
While talking to my coach yesterday, I was describing how I ran uphill during my run two days ago. The term I used was purposeful running. We talked about the concept of achieving a flow state during my run, essentially being in the zone. The one thing he said was that you really can't try to be in the zone. That is correct. The one time in my life I was in the zone while golfing is something I've never been able to reproduce. If I really think about it, I haven't had too many situations in my running or triathlon life where I felt that way. In fact, one of those I've blogged about. It was the Tri4Me in Denver over a decade ago. Still, while I may not be able to readily recreate a flow state while running, I can endeavor to run purposefully.
Today, as I start my third week of 8 mile runs, that will be my focus. It's particularly important while running uphill. It's easy to just plod while going up a hill, especially if you're not trying to run hard. What I realized yesterday was that if I focused on my running form while running uphill, I didn't have to run hard. Granted, it wasn't easy, but it was different. In a sense it's also a form of meditative running, which I realized I did two days ago. Rarely during that run did my mind stray. Pure meditation isn't easy either. Getting into a meditative flow state can take years of practice. It's typical to have your mind stray while meditating.
The key to responding to a straying mind during meditation is not to fight it but to gently go back to meditation. I expect that purposeful running is the same way. If I find myself forgetting, or plodding, I will gently remind myself to go back to a focus on my run form. Once more, running, like Ironman, is a metaphor for life. Purpose matters, as does purposeful running.
Today, as I start my third week of 8 mile runs, that will be my focus. It's particularly important while running uphill. It's easy to just plod while going up a hill, especially if you're not trying to run hard. What I realized yesterday was that if I focused on my running form while running uphill, I didn't have to run hard. Granted, it wasn't easy, but it was different. In a sense it's also a form of meditative running, which I realized I did two days ago. Rarely during that run did my mind stray. Pure meditation isn't easy either. Getting into a meditative flow state can take years of practice. It's typical to have your mind stray while meditating.
The key to responding to a straying mind during meditation is not to fight it but to gently go back to meditation. I expect that purposeful running is the same way. If I find myself forgetting, or plodding, I will gently remind myself to go back to a focus on my run form. Once more, running, like Ironman, is a metaphor for life. Purpose matters, as does purposeful running.
Tuesday, July 28, 2020
Remembering How to Run
Yesterday was the last day of my second week of running 8 miles a day for seven days. The week had been up and down, but I wanted to finish the second week the same way I'd finished the first, by running hard. At the end of my first week, I'd done a progression run, starting relatively easy and gradually increasing my effort until my final two miles were run hard. I ran the eight miles a week ago in just under 86 minutes. Yesterday, I decided to start the run solidly, and maintain the effort the whole way. It's a little bit of a tricky concept, because it really doesn't entail a regular warm up. On the other hand, it wasn't like I was running all out the whole time. That's what I realized. Yesterday, I think that I remembered how to run.
Running hard isn't the same as running all out. In fact, it's really a nuanced concept, for me at least. I'm sure it's not that nuanced for real runners. Last week, I finished up my run at a Zone 3 effort. That's an effort that I once used to be able to hold for a half marathon. These days, doing 3-4 miles at Zone 3 effort would be very hard for me. In fact, that's kind of the idea. A 5K is done at a harder effort than Zone 3, and I had struggled with that during my attempts to work on my 5K time.
Normally, when I go out for a run these days, I think about all sorts of things. I think about life and work. I also think about running, but my mind wanders. During yesterday's run, I only thought about running. That's because I was remembering how to run.
Meditation is about the breath, so is running. I gauge my running effort by my breathing. For me, Zone 2 running is about breathing every 4th step. There is a nuance to this approach, and that is the effort of the breath. Yesterday, I remembered that how I breath is part of how I run. I began my run breathing every 4th step, but focused on my running form. I wasn't going to run easy, I was going to run purposefully. That meant that I was running faster than I might normally run while breathing every 4th step. In fact, in yesterday's blog, I'd already laid out some basic time goals. When I got to the end of my first mile, it was 9:10, not as fast if I went all out, but very solid, the fastest I've run this mile since my latest journey began. The next mile was about maintaining the effort that I'd started, that I needed to continue to run up the hill, and then run downhill, so that when I finished my second mile, 9:11, also faster than I've been running it, especially because I'm not usually focused on the effort during this mile. The third and fourth miles were key. I needed to continue to run hard, but not increase my breathing rate into Zone 3. I focused on my form, and on my effort, continuing to breath every 4th step in a hard Zone 2 effort. Miles 3, 4 and 5 were done in 8:38, 8:49, and 8:54, meaning that my average pace had dipped down below 9 minutes. I now had a goal. That goal was to complete today's run in under 82 minutes, to average less than 9 minute per mile pace. Mile 6 is usually my slowest mile, while not the steepest, it turns out to have more undulation, and I may tend to lose my focus during it (this mile has 120 feet of climbing and 70 feet of descending). This may be something to work on in the future, but yesterday I kept my focus and ran Mile 6 in 9:24. This meant that I had to pick it up a notch to get back below 9 minute pace. I was ready to run the last two miles at Tempo effort, or Zone 3 effort, but in the end, just refocused my efforts on running hard and remembering how to run. Mile 7 while is 3/4 uphill, and 1/4 steep downhill found me dipping into Zone 3, but finding that I could still put out a very solid effort while breathing every 4th step, and during the downhill realized that I didn't need to run with a Zone 3 effort if I just ran the downhill fast, ending up Mile 7 in 8:42. The last mile is always fun, insofar as its downhill for 3/4 of the way and finishes with a short steep climb that I'm now running very hard every day. Theoretically, the long downhill opens up the possibility of a pretty fast mile, but I continued with my solid effort and did the final mile in 8:24. I ran the 8 miles in just under 82 minutes, averaging 8:54 pace. Considering that my eight mile run includes nearly 600 feet of climbing (and descending), and that I ran this at a hard Zone 2 effort, I was beyond pleased.
I also realized during my run that I only thought about running. I was in the running moment, and I remembered how to run.
Running hard isn't the same as running all out. In fact, it's really a nuanced concept, for me at least. I'm sure it's not that nuanced for real runners. Last week, I finished up my run at a Zone 3 effort. That's an effort that I once used to be able to hold for a half marathon. These days, doing 3-4 miles at Zone 3 effort would be very hard for me. In fact, that's kind of the idea. A 5K is done at a harder effort than Zone 3, and I had struggled with that during my attempts to work on my 5K time.
Normally, when I go out for a run these days, I think about all sorts of things. I think about life and work. I also think about running, but my mind wanders. During yesterday's run, I only thought about running. That's because I was remembering how to run.
Meditation is about the breath, so is running. I gauge my running effort by my breathing. For me, Zone 2 running is about breathing every 4th step. There is a nuance to this approach, and that is the effort of the breath. Yesterday, I remembered that how I breath is part of how I run. I began my run breathing every 4th step, but focused on my running form. I wasn't going to run easy, I was going to run purposefully. That meant that I was running faster than I might normally run while breathing every 4th step. In fact, in yesterday's blog, I'd already laid out some basic time goals. When I got to the end of my first mile, it was 9:10, not as fast if I went all out, but very solid, the fastest I've run this mile since my latest journey began. The next mile was about maintaining the effort that I'd started, that I needed to continue to run up the hill, and then run downhill, so that when I finished my second mile, 9:11, also faster than I've been running it, especially because I'm not usually focused on the effort during this mile. The third and fourth miles were key. I needed to continue to run hard, but not increase my breathing rate into Zone 3. I focused on my form, and on my effort, continuing to breath every 4th step in a hard Zone 2 effort. Miles 3, 4 and 5 were done in 8:38, 8:49, and 8:54, meaning that my average pace had dipped down below 9 minutes. I now had a goal. That goal was to complete today's run in under 82 minutes, to average less than 9 minute per mile pace. Mile 6 is usually my slowest mile, while not the steepest, it turns out to have more undulation, and I may tend to lose my focus during it (this mile has 120 feet of climbing and 70 feet of descending). This may be something to work on in the future, but yesterday I kept my focus and ran Mile 6 in 9:24. This meant that I had to pick it up a notch to get back below 9 minute pace. I was ready to run the last two miles at Tempo effort, or Zone 3 effort, but in the end, just refocused my efforts on running hard and remembering how to run. Mile 7 while is 3/4 uphill, and 1/4 steep downhill found me dipping into Zone 3, but finding that I could still put out a very solid effort while breathing every 4th step, and during the downhill realized that I didn't need to run with a Zone 3 effort if I just ran the downhill fast, ending up Mile 7 in 8:42. The last mile is always fun, insofar as its downhill for 3/4 of the way and finishes with a short steep climb that I'm now running very hard every day. Theoretically, the long downhill opens up the possibility of a pretty fast mile, but I continued with my solid effort and did the final mile in 8:24. I ran the 8 miles in just under 82 minutes, averaging 8:54 pace. Considering that my eight mile run includes nearly 600 feet of climbing (and descending), and that I ran this at a hard Zone 2 effort, I was beyond pleased.
I also realized during my run that I only thought about running. I was in the running moment, and I remembered how to run.
Monday, July 27, 2020
8 Mile Runs For Another Week
Two days ago, I thought that I was already bagging my 8 mile a day plan due to fatigue. After discovering that the fatigue was more emotional than physical, I persevered. Today will complete my second week of daily 8 mile runs. I went to bed last night looking forward to it. I woke up this morning having had a bit of a restless night's sleep. I'm getting more in tune with how I sleep as a marker or how my body is handling the daily runs. There is also the emotional component. My daily runs are seeping into my consciousness, insofar as they are gradually chipping away at my obsession over COVID-19. That's good.
I take each day as it comes, as I should. It should still be about being in the moment, shouldn't it? I've thought about running the 8 miles relatively hard. I've actually done my runs more solidly this week than last, with the exception of two days ago, where I chose to run super easy. I'm tempted to push today from the start, knowing that tomorrow is a rest day. Still, pushing from the start requires some degree of caution. There is always the matter of warming up. Since I run the same route every day, my runs are literally second nature. By the time I reach the first mile I can usually guess my first mile time within a few seconds. Depending on how hard I go during that first mile, it's been as fast as just under 10 minutes, and as slow as about 10:45. Fully warmed up, and going all out, I could probably run the first mile in close to 8 minutes. If I warm up and build my effort, I'm guessing that I might get the mile down into the low 9 minute range. Anything faster would not allow for an adequate warm up, and would fry me for the rest of the run, to be sure. In fact, I'm not sure that even pushing to get to the low 9 minute range wouldn't still fry me for the rest of the run. So, maybe, 9:30 would be a reasonable expectation if I gradually built my effort over the first mile.
I start my eight mile run every day with about 250 yards downhill. It's fairly steep, which I can't fully take advantage of without a warm up. When I hit the bottom of the hill, it flattens out for the next 150 yards before I begin the fairly steady climb to the end of the first mile. The climb undulates, and there is no really steep portion until I get to the beginning of the second mile. That's when I have about 500 yards uphill, most of which is pretty steep. The 3/4 of a mile climb at the end of the first mile and the 1/4 of a mile climb at the beginning of the mile form a Strava segment that I've tested myself on over the past year. My fastest pace up that mile hill is right around 8:28. During my 8 mile runs, my best pace for the uphill mile is 11:11. We'll see how I feel today!
I take each day as it comes, as I should. It should still be about being in the moment, shouldn't it? I've thought about running the 8 miles relatively hard. I've actually done my runs more solidly this week than last, with the exception of two days ago, where I chose to run super easy. I'm tempted to push today from the start, knowing that tomorrow is a rest day. Still, pushing from the start requires some degree of caution. There is always the matter of warming up. Since I run the same route every day, my runs are literally second nature. By the time I reach the first mile I can usually guess my first mile time within a few seconds. Depending on how hard I go during that first mile, it's been as fast as just under 10 minutes, and as slow as about 10:45. Fully warmed up, and going all out, I could probably run the first mile in close to 8 minutes. If I warm up and build my effort, I'm guessing that I might get the mile down into the low 9 minute range. Anything faster would not allow for an adequate warm up, and would fry me for the rest of the run, to be sure. In fact, I'm not sure that even pushing to get to the low 9 minute range wouldn't still fry me for the rest of the run. So, maybe, 9:30 would be a reasonable expectation if I gradually built my effort over the first mile.
I start my eight mile run every day with about 250 yards downhill. It's fairly steep, which I can't fully take advantage of without a warm up. When I hit the bottom of the hill, it flattens out for the next 150 yards before I begin the fairly steady climb to the end of the first mile. The climb undulates, and there is no really steep portion until I get to the beginning of the second mile. That's when I have about 500 yards uphill, most of which is pretty steep. The 3/4 of a mile climb at the end of the first mile and the 1/4 of a mile climb at the beginning of the mile form a Strava segment that I've tested myself on over the past year. My fastest pace up that mile hill is right around 8:28. During my 8 mile runs, my best pace for the uphill mile is 11:11. We'll see how I feel today!
Sunday, July 26, 2020
Unloading The Weight of the World
I slept over 11 hours last night. When I got up, I could still feel the weight of everything dragging me down. I initially thought it was due to the last five days of running eight miles, on top of the preceding week of 8 mile runs. It turns out that might not really be the case. I've put a lot of weight on myself over the past 4 1/2 months, as I tend to do. I care. I want to make a difference. That is a weight, that is a pressure. I've always been someone who seems to want to put the weight of the world on my shoulders, starting with my letter to President Johnson when I was nine years old, asking him to end the War in Vietnam. Why should I expect to have changed, except that weight is now too much. Today was proof of that. There was no way that I was going to be able to run today, until, after talking to my wife, I realized that I have a way out of some of the pressure. I've been writing about prioritizing. I just have to do it! The moment that I realized not only that I had to do it, but had some actual plans to make it happen, the weight almost instantaneously disappeared, to the extent that I now felt like getting in my 8 mile run. I was able to complete my 6th straight day of 8 mile runs with nary a problem. There are many lessons to be learned from this.
First and foremost, running every day, especially the type of solid 8 mile hilling run that takes me about 80 minutes to do, is healthy and therapeutic. I'm anticipating that my body will absorb these daily runs in a way that I've never really done before. I can already feel the difference. I will take one day off, on every eighth day, in order to give my body a chance to recover. It will be interesting to see how this works. I almost took today off, but found it wasn't necessary after all. I'm sure that days off will be important for my recovery and ongoing strengthening, it will just be interesting to see how it plays out. In the meantime, I'd like my runs to contribute to the unloading of the weight of the world on me, rather than adding to it. That was the truly fascinating aspect of today. I thought that 5 days of running had put too much stress on me, but that wasn't where the stress had arisen, it had come from the pressure I'd been putting on myself. When I let go of that pressure, running was not only fine, but it was what I wanted to do. Fascinating!
Over the next week, this will be my goal. To focus on what matters and how I can prioritize, and to let the things that don't rise to the top go. In the meantime, I've got my daily run (although this week, Tuesday will be my day off). I've also started blogging every day again. It's also therapeutic, and will help to keep me grounded. It's about the journey, not about specific goals.
First and foremost, running every day, especially the type of solid 8 mile hilling run that takes me about 80 minutes to do, is healthy and therapeutic. I'm anticipating that my body will absorb these daily runs in a way that I've never really done before. I can already feel the difference. I will take one day off, on every eighth day, in order to give my body a chance to recover. It will be interesting to see how this works. I almost took today off, but found it wasn't necessary after all. I'm sure that days off will be important for my recovery and ongoing strengthening, it will just be interesting to see how it plays out. In the meantime, I'd like my runs to contribute to the unloading of the weight of the world on me, rather than adding to it. That was the truly fascinating aspect of today. I thought that 5 days of running had put too much stress on me, but that wasn't where the stress had arisen, it had come from the pressure I'd been putting on myself. When I let go of that pressure, running was not only fine, but it was what I wanted to do. Fascinating!
Over the next week, this will be my goal. To focus on what matters and how I can prioritize, and to let the things that don't rise to the top go. In the meantime, I've got my daily run (although this week, Tuesday will be my day off). I've also started blogging every day again. It's also therapeutic, and will help to keep me grounded. It's about the journey, not about specific goals.
Saturday, July 25, 2020
Finding Discipline
I was really tired again yesterday. Moving boxes, etc., is really a tiring process, especially if I'd already run 8 miles in the morning. And, had another busy day of talking to reporters and all. My wife called me out on it. I don't know how to stop. It's true. I really need to find the discipline to pace myself in life the way I have in Ironman. On one hand, I'm starting by writing my blog first thing in the morning and following that up with my morning run. Also, having the discipline to stay away from social media and email prior to my run. Hopefully that gives me an opportunity to focus more on the run than on whatever will be on my mind. This is the beginning to finding discipline, but there is a much more important step to come. It's something I've blogged about before, and I would guess that I've done that more than once. It's prioritizing.
I have too many things to do every day. First of all, that gets me in trouble, because when I'm feeling overwhelmed, I'm actually less productive. It's not actually a matter of prioritizing on a daily basis, it's a matter of prioritizing on a life's basis. That takes discipline. I really need to drop things from my list. Considering that I'm someone who doesn't like to quit, that means that I can't add anything new. Period. I have enough tasks to complete that the idea of adding on new tasks for some time should be completely off the table. Completely.
So, I must find the discipline to say no. Just this past week I've had new projects come my way. I've had new reporters reach out to me. How many reporters are enough? Sixty five? Seventy? Is there a reason that I don't know how to say no to anyone? Well, there are certainly psychological reasons, but rather than entertain those, perhaps I should just find the discipline to say no.
I have too many things to do every day. First of all, that gets me in trouble, because when I'm feeling overwhelmed, I'm actually less productive. It's not actually a matter of prioritizing on a daily basis, it's a matter of prioritizing on a life's basis. That takes discipline. I really need to drop things from my list. Considering that I'm someone who doesn't like to quit, that means that I can't add anything new. Period. I have enough tasks to complete that the idea of adding on new tasks for some time should be completely off the table. Completely.
So, I must find the discipline to say no. Just this past week I've had new projects come my way. I've had new reporters reach out to me. How many reporters are enough? Sixty five? Seventy? Is there a reason that I don't know how to say no to anyone? Well, there are certainly psychological reasons, but rather than entertain those, perhaps I should just find the discipline to say no.
Friday, July 24, 2020
Scarily Transparent
My former Director of Communications once called me scarily transparent. I actually take some pride in that description. I try to be truthful with people. The truth can sometimes be scary. In fact, if there's one thing that I've learned in the past 4 1/2 months, is that being completely honest has some interesting sequelae. I believe that I've not communicated with over sixty journalists and reporters. One thing that matters when talking to a journalist is honesty. At the same time, the type of honesty I'm talking about can make one sound pretty bold. That boldness might turn some people off. On the other hand, especially with all the news every day, bold is what gets you quoted. It's a bit of a double edged sword. At the same time, it's who I am. I've blogged about the importance of being who I am, and in this regard, I can not change that. Nor, do I really want to.
Since staying in my upper level seat at the Forum as a boy, rather than move to better seat during halftime, I've always had trouble with breaking rules or being dishonest. I believe that they both go hand in hand. The interesting thing about rules is that nothing is fully black or white in the world. There is always grey. I generally have no trouble with grey, and that's an interesting side light to my transparency. I think it's because, when I operate in the grey, I'm transparent about it!
There's a lot of people who don't like to hear the truth. There are a lot of reasons for that. There are people who don't tell the truth. One of the reasons for that is fear. Fear of failure. Fear of being "called out" for failing. Fear that others will find out that they didn't do their job. Some people are really good about shading that truth. I often wonder if those people actually believe what they say. I'm sure that in many ways we've all been there. We've all had the opportunity to rationalize a decision. Still, I'd like to think that most times, that is not who I am. I understand that being scarily transparent can make people around you uncomfortable. I can live with that. At the end of the day, it's about whether I'm comfortable.
Since staying in my upper level seat at the Forum as a boy, rather than move to better seat during halftime, I've always had trouble with breaking rules or being dishonest. I believe that they both go hand in hand. The interesting thing about rules is that nothing is fully black or white in the world. There is always grey. I generally have no trouble with grey, and that's an interesting side light to my transparency. I think it's because, when I operate in the grey, I'm transparent about it!
There's a lot of people who don't like to hear the truth. There are a lot of reasons for that. There are people who don't tell the truth. One of the reasons for that is fear. Fear of failure. Fear of being "called out" for failing. Fear that others will find out that they didn't do their job. Some people are really good about shading that truth. I often wonder if those people actually believe what they say. I'm sure that in many ways we've all been there. We've all had the opportunity to rationalize a decision. Still, I'd like to think that most times, that is not who I am. I understand that being scarily transparent can make people around you uncomfortable. I can live with that. At the end of the day, it's about whether I'm comfortable.
Thursday, July 23, 2020
Nothing
For the past 4 1/2 months, I wake up almost every day with something on my mind. Today, nothing. At first, it bothered me. What do I blog about? So, I began to try to think of a topic. I tried to think of a a priority. Why? Why do I have to have an important thought for the day? Why can't I just revel in nothing?
Last year all that mattered to me was going to Kona. My life was consumed with thoughts of Kona. It meant so much to me. I often think about my 10 days in Kona. I think about my daily meals at the restaurants next door to the hotel, where I would sit by myself and look out at the ocean. There was a peacefulness that I felt that is still unique to me. I'm someone who always has to have something on my mind. Even in Kona? Well, in some ways, I was totally focused on the experience. I was focused on the moment. The week became a bit of a blur because I wasn't feeling well. I tried hard to ignore how I felt. In many ways, my training had put me in peak condition, but then whatever ailed me that week took a bit of a toll, except that I ignored it. When I think back about that week, it's actually hard to recall not feeling well.
The mind is an amazing thing. I'm always needing to keep busy, except when I'm not. Running should be that escape. Running should be Kona. It hasn't really been. I tend to think about whatever is on my mind. Today, nothing. I'm not sure how long this feeling of nothingness will last. As I write, I think instead of fighting it, I'll embrace it. That's the idea anyway. I can picture the ocean view in Kona. Something.
Last year all that mattered to me was going to Kona. My life was consumed with thoughts of Kona. It meant so much to me. I often think about my 10 days in Kona. I think about my daily meals at the restaurants next door to the hotel, where I would sit by myself and look out at the ocean. There was a peacefulness that I felt that is still unique to me. I'm someone who always has to have something on my mind. Even in Kona? Well, in some ways, I was totally focused on the experience. I was focused on the moment. The week became a bit of a blur because I wasn't feeling well. I tried hard to ignore how I felt. In many ways, my training had put me in peak condition, but then whatever ailed me that week took a bit of a toll, except that I ignored it. When I think back about that week, it's actually hard to recall not feeling well.
The mind is an amazing thing. I'm always needing to keep busy, except when I'm not. Running should be that escape. Running should be Kona. It hasn't really been. I tend to think about whatever is on my mind. Today, nothing. I'm not sure how long this feeling of nothingness will last. As I write, I think instead of fighting it, I'll embrace it. That's the idea anyway. I can picture the ocean view in Kona. Something.
Wednesday, July 22, 2020
Absorbing the Training
I had a great discussion with my coach yesterday, and the plan became clear. Running 8 miles a day for a week was a great stimulus. Since I was pretty fatigued by Friday/Saturday night, there was no question as to the fact that this stimulus was effective. The best part of the week long experience was the fact that I no soreness to speak of. This has made my decision simpler. Training is about the stimulus. I will keep running 8 miles a day for a week at a time. I'll take one day off at the end of each seven days. Hence, this week began yesterday (Tuesday). When I get to the final 8 mile run, I'll have a choice, run a little longer or run a little harder. Last week, I ran a little harder. A little bit of choice is good during training.
I'm really curious to see where this goes. As I laid things out with my coach, the plan right now is to repeat this weekly cycle for 8-10 weeks. Then we can see where I am. As he reminded me, when I was doing my "20 x 20s" (twenty weeks of twenty mile runs), I reached a point at about the fifteenth week where I began wondering what was next. The twenty miles had become "old hat." The question will be when 8 miles a day becomes routine. That will essentially be when there is no longer the same stimulus. When that happens, it will be time to make adjustments, and I can decide then what to do.
In the meantime, I'm looking forward to having a daily routine. That was also one of the things that I realized yesterday. I wake up each morning and write my daily blog. I then go out on my daily 8 mile run. Afterwards, I check my email (need to develop the discipline not to do that beforehand). Then, I'll have some tasks (my textbook is one important one) to perform. Structure and routine are as important as purpose. I'm ready to start absorbing.
Tuesday, July 21, 2020
What's Next?
I went back and forth yesterday, almost deciding to run for an eighth straight day. In the end, common sense took over and I followed my instinct to recover from the prior week. I've had a few different thoughts regarding what to do today, and ultimately, for this week. I could take another day of rest, although, my legs weren't really sore yesterday, and they certainly aren't sore this morning. While they still may be fatigued (I'll find out once I start running), I'm feeling more refreshed and I slept relatively well last night. All signs would indicate that I'm good to run today. The question is how far? Or, the question is, how fast? I've been pretty dedicated over the past month to running comfortably, without expending any real hard efforts. I broke that a little on Sunday with my progression run, but that went well. Part of me is tempted to run hard for a shorter period of time, but I probably want to make sure that I'm not putting too much stress on my system yet.
Eight miles beckons, having gotten into that routine. On the other hand, six miles suddenly seems very easy. I could mix things up this week by running six miles a day for the rest of the week and finish the week on Sunday with a long run. That might give me an idea as to where my long run endurance is. That's the bias I had yesterday, and it hasn't changed much today. Eight miles a day clearly puts a "stress" on my body that's manageable, but it's a stress nevertheless. I could continue with the same routine until eight miles is not longer a stress. That's another option. In that case, running six miles today might just be a transition back to another eight mile a day streak.
I'm enjoying testing my body out once again. I've clearly spent a good portion of the past thirty years doing that via exercise in a variety of ways. Running, biking, swimming. Marathons, triathlons, Ironman's. I've tested my body, I've tested my mind. It's a good combination, and a relatively healthy one, when done properly I was a bit "out of sorts" yesterday. It might have been the fact that I didn't run. Or, it might have been the fact that I needed to not run. It's hard to know. I'm feeling a little better today. Out the door I go, for six miles, or whatever the road tells me to do!
Eight miles beckons, having gotten into that routine. On the other hand, six miles suddenly seems very easy. I could mix things up this week by running six miles a day for the rest of the week and finish the week on Sunday with a long run. That might give me an idea as to where my long run endurance is. That's the bias I had yesterday, and it hasn't changed much today. Eight miles a day clearly puts a "stress" on my body that's manageable, but it's a stress nevertheless. I could continue with the same routine until eight miles is not longer a stress. That's another option. In that case, running six miles today might just be a transition back to another eight mile a day streak.
I'm enjoying testing my body out once again. I've clearly spent a good portion of the past thirty years doing that via exercise in a variety of ways. Running, biking, swimming. Marathons, triathlons, Ironman's. I've tested my body, I've tested my mind. It's a good combination, and a relatively healthy one, when done properly I was a bit "out of sorts" yesterday. It might have been the fact that I didn't run. Or, it might have been the fact that I needed to not run. It's hard to know. I'm feeling a little better today. Out the door I go, for six miles, or whatever the road tells me to do!
Monday, July 20, 2020
Patience Versus Temptation
Seven days of running 8 hilly miles. In the books. Completed. Goal attained. I purposely didn't give any thought to what I'd do today. Ok, maybe a little thought. Eight days of 8 miles was tempting. Listening to my body should take priority. So, I waited until I got up this morning. Another solid night's sleep, actually more restful than the night before, but still with some signals that my body needs to recover. Since recovery is often the most important workout, as I write this, I'm still not quite decided. I have a little bit of soreness this morning. It's probably due to the fact that I actually ran yesterday's seventh straight day of running harder than any of the preceding six days. That included a hard run mile downhill at the end of my run, which will always add some stress to the legs. Still, considering what I've just accomplished, I feel pretty good this morning.
While 8 miles at one time isn't a big deal, I'd never run 8 miles a day for seven straight days before. Now I have. That also means that I ran 56 miles for the week. That's one of my highest mileage weeks in a long time. There was a time over twenty years ago, when I was running marathons, that I got my mileage up to about fifty miles a week. Still, if I look back at my running logs for the past decade, I'm pretty sure that I won't find more than this except for a few times. I've got my running legs back, which mean that there's no reason to tempt fate. I certainly don't want any injuries.
I also have some work to catch up on, that admittedly, my fatigue the past week got in the way of. There's always a balance, and I'm good at ignoring the fact that there are days that I just don't want to think because I'm tired. This past week was a struggle in that regard. A day of rest will be good for me. Patience will beat out temptation and allow my body at least one day of recovery.
While 8 miles at one time isn't a big deal, I'd never run 8 miles a day for seven straight days before. Now I have. That also means that I ran 56 miles for the week. That's one of my highest mileage weeks in a long time. There was a time over twenty years ago, when I was running marathons, that I got my mileage up to about fifty miles a week. Still, if I look back at my running logs for the past decade, I'm pretty sure that I won't find more than this except for a few times. I've got my running legs back, which mean that there's no reason to tempt fate. I certainly don't want any injuries.
I also have some work to catch up on, that admittedly, my fatigue the past week got in the way of. There's always a balance, and I'm good at ignoring the fact that there are days that I just don't want to think because I'm tired. This past week was a struggle in that regard. A day of rest will be good for me. Patience will beat out temptation and allow my body at least one day of recovery.
Sunday, July 19, 2020
Craving Recovery
Last night was the worst. I tossed, I turned. I was hot. I was uncomfortable. My coach often asks me about sleep as a sign of how my training is going. The night before last, I slept nearly 10 hours. I took a nap yesterday. I felt fine. At least I thought I did. However, inside of me, there was an epic battle going on. The struggle to recover. In many ways, it's no different from my struggle to recover from the mental obsession that I've had for over four months.
I went to bed looking forward to this morning's eight mile run. Seven straight days of running eight miles. It doesn't seem like a big deal. It's only eight miles. Granted, it's a hilly eight miles, so it's not easy, but it's not super hard either. My body has been absorbing the training. I'm not sore, at least not too sore, and especially not sore in the way I feel after that first twenty mile run of the training season, or sore in the way I feel after completing an Ironman. On the other hand, my sleep last night is exactly how I feel after doing an Ironman. I toss, I turn. I'm hot. I'm uncomfortable. It's odd. It didn't hit me until I wrote it down (another reason to write every day). Running eight miles a day for six straight days put me in the same hormonal state that my body is in after doing an Ironman.
The crazy thing is that I'm not sore. I'm not even sure how fatigued I am. Well, I'm definitely fatigued, but again, not on the scale of fatigue that I would feel after an Ironman, or even after a 20+ hour Ironman training week. It's something else. It's craving recovery. Those were the words that crept into my mind this morning as I fought the urge to go back to sleep yet again. I kept working to remember those two words. Craving recovery. One of the things I've learned in the past four and a half months is to pay attention to the first thing I'm thinking when I wake up. To hold on to it. To use it to define my day. Today's words were craving recovery.
And now I have to prepare myself to go out for my seventh 8 mile run in the course of one week. Seven days of running eight miles. I'd already wondered what would come next. Would I want to convert my week of 8 mile runs into eight days of 8 mile runs? That is something I won't know until I wake up tomorrow. That concept is certainly not looking good right now. Nevertheless, we'll see. One day at a time. It will ultimately depend on what I'm thinking when I awaken tomorrow. Today, I have one task at hand. To go out and run another hilly eight miles.
Just to be clear, never in the last thirty years have I run eight miles a day for seven straight days. I've run more total miles in a week. I've certainly held my COVID obsession for more than seven straight days. Yet, there is something special about this endeavor. I've broken new ground. I've pushed my body in a way that it hasn't been pushed before. Which is why I wear my Kona shirt on todays run. To remind me of the fact that we can push our limits. But we also need to recover. Ultimately, that's how we actually get stronger. Maybe that's part of the message. Maybe that's why I woke up thinking the words craving recovery.
I went to bed looking forward to this morning's eight mile run. Seven straight days of running eight miles. It doesn't seem like a big deal. It's only eight miles. Granted, it's a hilly eight miles, so it's not easy, but it's not super hard either. My body has been absorbing the training. I'm not sore, at least not too sore, and especially not sore in the way I feel after that first twenty mile run of the training season, or sore in the way I feel after completing an Ironman. On the other hand, my sleep last night is exactly how I feel after doing an Ironman. I toss, I turn. I'm hot. I'm uncomfortable. It's odd. It didn't hit me until I wrote it down (another reason to write every day). Running eight miles a day for six straight days put me in the same hormonal state that my body is in after doing an Ironman.
The crazy thing is that I'm not sore. I'm not even sure how fatigued I am. Well, I'm definitely fatigued, but again, not on the scale of fatigue that I would feel after an Ironman, or even after a 20+ hour Ironman training week. It's something else. It's craving recovery. Those were the words that crept into my mind this morning as I fought the urge to go back to sleep yet again. I kept working to remember those two words. Craving recovery. One of the things I've learned in the past four and a half months is to pay attention to the first thing I'm thinking when I wake up. To hold on to it. To use it to define my day. Today's words were craving recovery.
And now I have to prepare myself to go out for my seventh 8 mile run in the course of one week. Seven days of running eight miles. I'd already wondered what would come next. Would I want to convert my week of 8 mile runs into eight days of 8 mile runs? That is something I won't know until I wake up tomorrow. That concept is certainly not looking good right now. Nevertheless, we'll see. One day at a time. It will ultimately depend on what I'm thinking when I awaken tomorrow. Today, I have one task at hand. To go out and run another hilly eight miles.
Just to be clear, never in the last thirty years have I run eight miles a day for seven straight days. I've run more total miles in a week. I've certainly held my COVID obsession for more than seven straight days. Yet, there is something special about this endeavor. I've broken new ground. I've pushed my body in a way that it hasn't been pushed before. Which is why I wear my Kona shirt on todays run. To remind me of the fact that we can push our limits. But we also need to recover. Ultimately, that's how we actually get stronger. Maybe that's part of the message. Maybe that's why I woke up thinking the words craving recovery.
Saturday, July 18, 2020
Commitment.
I slept ten hours last night. That makes total sense. Five days in a row of running 8 miles. The first time that I can remember doing that in many years, maybe ever. In some ways, it's not that big of a deal. I've run 20 miles once a week for twenty straight weeks. I've done 15 Ironman's. I've put in long weeks of Ironman training. But in the midst of COVID-19 and my obsession, getting out the door every day for five days in a row and running 8 miles has actually been pretty easy. Why? Because I'd committed to it. Every night I'd go to bed knowing what I'd be doing the following morning. Today is no exception. I did get a massage yesterday, which I think will be of tremendous help today. I really don't have any soreness this morning. I am a little tired, despite sleeping for ten hours last night. I went to bed thinking about my run this morning and I woke up thinking about it. I'm not quite as excited to do it as I've been all week, and that may or may not change when I get out the door and begin the short quarter mile downhill that begins my daily runs. It certainly might not be quite there when I start my one mile uphill trek that is beginning of my 8 mile out and back path. But I'm pretty sure that somewhere along the way, it will feel routine. That's the advantage of nearly thirty years of running (not continuously). That's the advantage of 20 weeks of 20 mile long runs. That's what is in the brain of someone who has done 15 Ironman's, not to mention a 100 mile run-walk.
Commitment. That's what it really is about. That's not something I take lightly. It's not something I struggle with. In fact, I might sometimes be too committed. This obsession has proven that. But my life in many ways has been defined by obsessions and commitments. Some would call that purpose, which we know is important for human beings.
I assumed yesterday, after a relatively hard effort (fastest time of the first five days), that today would be an easy effort. Knowing that I have one more day (at least) to go in my one week endeavor, I'm still assuming that today will be an easy effort. Running is interesting. Hard is a relative term. A hard effort can be what I crave on some days. In fact, I rarely crave a totally easy effort, which is somewhat odd, insofar as that might make the most meditative sense. One would think. Still, at least as of last night, an easy effort made sense for this morning. Enjoying the world around me, thinking about Ironman's past (one of my favorite things to think about while running), thinking about my wife and family (my other favorite meditation), are all a little easier to do when the running is easy.
Commitment. When I head out the door today, I know that I will run 8 miles. The only thing that would stop me, not to jinx myself, is pain. Not pain from fatigue or soreness, but actual, injury-type pain. Fortunately, I've had of that all week. It's the only risk of running 8 miles every day for seven days. But the risk is relatively low, with 30 years of running in my legs. However, it's one reason I timed my massage for yesterday. Tight muscles have a funny way of sneaking up on you. I had some soreness in one leg yesterday afternoon, but that was gone by the time I went to bed. I may have soreness during my run, but that is part of being a runner. What matters most, however, is knowing when a pain might cause harm. Fortunately, after thirty years, I'm pretty good at knowing that. And so, I'll go out the door for day six of my eight miles a day of running. I'll know that by the time I get home, I will have run 48 miles this week, and have only one more day (unless I get the crazy idea of continuing this streak) to go, bringing me above a fifty mile running week for one of the few times in many, many years. Commitment.
Commitment. That's what it really is about. That's not something I take lightly. It's not something I struggle with. In fact, I might sometimes be too committed. This obsession has proven that. But my life in many ways has been defined by obsessions and commitments. Some would call that purpose, which we know is important for human beings.
I assumed yesterday, after a relatively hard effort (fastest time of the first five days), that today would be an easy effort. Knowing that I have one more day (at least) to go in my one week endeavor, I'm still assuming that today will be an easy effort. Running is interesting. Hard is a relative term. A hard effort can be what I crave on some days. In fact, I rarely crave a totally easy effort, which is somewhat odd, insofar as that might make the most meditative sense. One would think. Still, at least as of last night, an easy effort made sense for this morning. Enjoying the world around me, thinking about Ironman's past (one of my favorite things to think about while running), thinking about my wife and family (my other favorite meditation), are all a little easier to do when the running is easy.
Commitment. When I head out the door today, I know that I will run 8 miles. The only thing that would stop me, not to jinx myself, is pain. Not pain from fatigue or soreness, but actual, injury-type pain. Fortunately, I've had of that all week. It's the only risk of running 8 miles every day for seven days. But the risk is relatively low, with 30 years of running in my legs. However, it's one reason I timed my massage for yesterday. Tight muscles have a funny way of sneaking up on you. I had some soreness in one leg yesterday afternoon, but that was gone by the time I went to bed. I may have soreness during my run, but that is part of being a runner. What matters most, however, is knowing when a pain might cause harm. Fortunately, after thirty years, I'm pretty good at knowing that. And so, I'll go out the door for day six of my eight miles a day of running. I'll know that by the time I get home, I will have run 48 miles this week, and have only one more day (unless I get the crazy idea of continuing this streak) to go, bringing me above a fifty mile running week for one of the few times in many, many years. Commitment.
Friday, July 17, 2020
Streaks
I've started another streak. I think it all has to do with consistency and habits. I'm still struggling to find peace and comfort with where I am. It shouldn't be too surprising that my streak revolves around running. I ran 8 miles on Monday and Tuesday, and my coach figured it out before I did. I would run 8 miles every day this week. Every day. This week. I've never done that before. I've had some big volume weeks, but those usually entailed two or three really long runs. There would be short days, or even off days. I ran daily for nearly a month at the beginning of last year on my journey to Kona. But some of those days were just one or two miles of running. This is eight. Not four. Not five. Not six. For me, eight miles is a very solid number. Since my course every day is very hilly, these runs are not "easy," by any means. Effort is involved, though I've taken great pain to not exert myself too much. That would not only defeat the purpose, but keep me from my goal. It's literally running at just the right pace and effort to allow me to get in my eight miles and get the benefit of the run. Each run is just over an hour and twenty minutes. In fact, the first one, was closer to an hour and twenty five minutes, but the next three have been right around an hour and twenty two minutes. My coach considers an hour and a half to be a "long run." That suggests that this time, distance, and elevation gain (nearly 600 feet), are just the right combination of stimuli to achieve the goal that I'm attempting to achieve. Consistency of effort, mental fortitude, neuromuscular stimulus.
I start each days run with different feelings. I end each days run feeling about the same. I end every day tired. Fortunately, so far, I've awakened the next morning with enough energy to feel like my eight mile run is quite doable. Today is no exception, despite going to bed later than usual last night. I'm looking forward to todays run. That's part of the goal and part of the process. I think that I'm hoping to replace a lot of the things in my brain with my running streak. I used to go to bed thinking about ironman, and waking up thinking about ironman. For the past four months, that has not been the case. This week, I've gone to bed thinking about the next day's run. I wake up thinking about today's run. That's part of the idea behind the streak. Any streak. I haven't written in my blog for nearly a month. Not since my birthday. Another streak to start. It's not that I haven't been writing. I've been writing a ton. It's that I haven't been writing my blog.
Consistency. Habit. Structure. Eight miles a day for a week. I'm more than half way there. Today will be five straight days. Forty miles. A solid week already. More than I've done in over a year and a half. The goal for the week is fifty-six miles. That would be one of the biggest volume weeks of running I've ever done. At least in the past twenty years. So far, my body is handling it well. That's important. The purpose isn't to do harm to myself or cause an injury. The purpose is consistency. Habit. Structure. Mental fortitude. Peace.
I start each days run with different feelings. I end each days run feeling about the same. I end every day tired. Fortunately, so far, I've awakened the next morning with enough energy to feel like my eight mile run is quite doable. Today is no exception, despite going to bed later than usual last night. I'm looking forward to todays run. That's part of the goal and part of the process. I think that I'm hoping to replace a lot of the things in my brain with my running streak. I used to go to bed thinking about ironman, and waking up thinking about ironman. For the past four months, that has not been the case. This week, I've gone to bed thinking about the next day's run. I wake up thinking about today's run. That's part of the idea behind the streak. Any streak. I haven't written in my blog for nearly a month. Not since my birthday. Another streak to start. It's not that I haven't been writing. I've been writing a ton. It's that I haven't been writing my blog.
Consistency. Habit. Structure. Eight miles a day for a week. I'm more than half way there. Today will be five straight days. Forty miles. A solid week already. More than I've done in over a year and a half. The goal for the week is fifty-six miles. That would be one of the biggest volume weeks of running I've ever done. At least in the past twenty years. So far, my body is handling it well. That's important. The purpose isn't to do harm to myself or cause an injury. The purpose is consistency. Habit. Structure. Mental fortitude. Peace.
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