Whacked Out Runners Unite!

It’s days like today that offer a reminder that, for a runner, the line between discipline and mental illness can be mighty thin.

The skies were dumping rain drops by the bucketful, but the schedule called for 8. The schedule, as we all know, must be obeyed.

At least I was not the only whacked-out runner in Kansas City this morning. In fact, there were several hundred of us.

Pulling into the parking lot for a group run, a couple dozen compatriots in some of the early pace groups already were heading out to the Indian Creek Trail in one of the southern suburbs of the Kansas City area.

Jeff, who just joined the group this year, arrived and said he was surprised to see so many people show up in such questionable weather. Do they ever cancel? He asked.

Not unless bolts of lightning are bombarding the runners or some other situation is threatening everyone’s safety would Eladio, the leader of the group, call off our Saturday morning treks.

So, it was a good day for a run. Good, if you like downpours, wind that got a bit chilly toward the end and a trail that became increasingly saturated with pools of water and mud.

Early on I attempted the dainty dancing of tiptoeing or swinging wide around the puddles coming from an overflowing Indian Creek onto the trail. Eventually, though, splish, splash, splish and my feet were waterlogged.

Not too big a deal, but the extra weight probably brought a little extra pounding on my knees, ankles and goofy size 12s.

The rainy weather this week claimed two of our family’s swimming outings, a planned trip to an amusement park and a scheduled double-header for my son’s Little League team.

But I strapped on my snorkel, swim fins and logged eight miles to finish the week with 19.38 miles.

Stormy skies

The forecast calls for storms, storms, I am afraid, of the family drama variety.

A sprinkling of phone calls already started this week, triggering feelings of frustration, guilt, sadness and the general bewilderment that seem to affect many in my family at times of rising tension.

Not really knowing what to do, not really being in a position to do much and not really knowing how to process all of it, left me in a bit of a mess. So what should I do? Go running of course.

Actually, lacing up my shoes and heading out the door has been therapeutic. In addition to working out the kinks in my tightened muscles and joints, a few miles on the road also helps sort out the jumble in my head.

I must be quite a sight, running down the road, mumbling under my breath and occasionally letting a cathartic “WTF?!” outburst escape from my lips to no one in particular.

Haven’t really been logging any massive mileage, just a three-miler, a four-miler and what was supposed to be a three-miler this morning that somehow got an extra mile tacked on to it. This was supposed to be a recovery week anyway. Saturday calls for 8 miles.

It is strangely comforting to see a training schedule that provides such orderly direction, and that I am managing to follow along with relative discipline.

I awoke this morning to real storms, storms of the rain and a smattering of thunder variety. By the time I got out the door, however, the skies had calmed a little. I was treated to a few drops along the way, and a very brief burst of a downpour, but otherwise the storm behaved itself while I was on the road.

If only my family drama storm could pass by as smoothly.

Marathon envy

Before hitting the streets Saturday like a thundering herd, all the participants of the group run divided into pace groups.

Forming a circle of those aiming for about 10-minutes-per-mile for our weekly long runs, one by one we said our name and our target race. Out of about 35 of us, almost everyone declared that 26.2 was their goal for the fall. When it came to my turn, “Kansas City….half” squeaked out of my throat.

Not really sure what the problem is. It’s not like 13.1 miles is only a walk around the block. Training smart – having fun, enjoying the running and avoiding injury – this summer and then starting – and completing – a half marathon in October is a worthy endeavor.

Somehow, some way, at least for now, I will have to get over my marathon envy and do what’s right for me.

We’ll see how it goes.

After the introductions Saturday, we went out for a jaunt. I did 8 miles – and felt great.

Taking a few days off toward the end the week seemed to do the trick. My legs felt much better. When I had run the same distance the week before, I felt a lot more fatigued toward the end and for the rest of the day.

Saturday, after my run, I did a little cross training by taking my kids to a barbecue contest in Lenexa, then swimming and then out to dinner for pizza. It’s important to refuel your body after a workout, right?

Dead legs

The training schedule said 4 miles today. My body said, "no."

When I went out yesterday, I just didn't have much zip in my legs. I thought about pushing through it to log the run today, but decided against it.

Saturday will be my first long run of the season with the training group. I would rather rest up a bit now to have a good experience Saturday, and definitely later through the summer as I log the miles on the way to my fall race.

So when the alarm went off at 5 a.m. today, I just clicked it off and grabbed another 30 minutes of sleep.

What's your hurry?

Sometimes when I was a kid, we would go horseback riding at some stable catering to tourists. As we prepared to set out on a well-worn trail, I would grip the reins and ready myself for controlling my trusty steed.

Let’s be honest, though. These beasts traveled their trails countless numbers of times before and had no intention of letting some city-slicker youngster control either the direction they headed or the speed at which they traveled.

I bring this up now because it is a bit like my running.

To be sure, I am in greater control of the routes I travel. But I am having about as much luck controlling my speed as I did back in the days when I sat atop ‘Ol Paint.

I know the best advice is to start out slow, as much as a minute-per-mile or more slower than regular long-slow-run pace. The body needs time to work out the kinks and get the blood flowing. As Eladio Valdez of The Runner’s Edge says, “Your risk of injury goes up, the amount of enjoyment goes down as you waste extra energy with an inefficient body coming back to haunt you in the 2nd half of the workout, and it makes it harder for a pace group leader to settle into the appropriate pace.”

Sometimes I feel sluggish and strain to get going over the first mile. Then I realize that I probably am running too fast.

Experts like Eladio know better. Believe it or not, I know better. Yet, as much as I try to slow down to do my first mile in about 10 minutes, or maybe 9:30, I keep posting 9 minutes and sometimes less for that first mile. Yesterday and today I did a little better with a 9:17 and a 9:29 first mile, but Saturday when I did 8 I started with a 9:07.

The Runner’s Edge has weekly workouts that are guided by a pace-group leader who helps keep my inclination to speed ahead too quickly too early under control.

It’s just the other days of the week that I need to find a pair of reins to pull back as I head out on the trail.

Get out and run

I’ve been a terrible blogger in recent weeks – months? – but a runner? Not so bad. My size 12s have logged 165.8 miles since I last checked in here at RunninginOz.

Feeling pretty good. A lot better, in fact, than this time a year ago as I began my summer of training for what became a debacle in Milwaukee last fall. I still have some issues. Don’t we all? My hamstrings and calves have all the flexibility of an iron bar. I have been stretching, but not as consistently as I should.

Lurking on the blogs of inspiring runners such as Running Jayhawk, Full Metal Lunchbox and Josh has provided plenty of motivation and a few laughs. They recently completed the Great Midwest Relay – a simple 190-mile jaunt from Madison, Wisconsin, over to Milwaukee and then a dip south to Chicago. The entire team was filled with studly athletic beasts who overcame sleep deprivation and a cramped van to pound out the miles. Sounds like it was a fun time.

Don’t think I have a relay like that in my future any time soon, but I am eager to commit to a fall race. My decision has been complicated by the fact I still am grappling with the emotional baggage of my DNF for my first marathon attempt. So, I am leaning heavily toward a half. Train hard. Have fun. Show some discipline. Show I can run and complete a goal race. Then we’ll see where things stand. Then maybe I’ll go for 26.2 next spring or next fall.

As I look over an intermediate training schedule for a half vs. a full, they aren’t that different. I’ll be logging a lot of miles either way. Half vs. full, full vs. half? Hmmm.