Please pass the salt

The margin for error in a half marathon is much greater than it is for a longer race.

While this may be more than obvious for experienced marathoners, it’s given me another box to include on my mental checklist as I prepare for 26.2, probably next fall.

During my recent half marathon, I clipped along without many a care. Usually I grabbed a cup of water or Gatorade at the aid stations, but I only sipped a little before tossing the cup aside. (I must admit that I abandoned the cups from the Kansas City Half Marathon a little wistfully. They were Spider Man cups and kind of cool, but I digress).

My point is that I didn’t make sure to take in a certain amount of sports drink as I made my way through the course. I was winded when I got to the end of 13.1, but I didn’t experience any cramps or other serious problems.

I recently heard anecdotes from a couple of experienced marathoners I respect about cramping problems as they tackled full marathons this fall. Both were on track through much of the race to break the 4-hour barrier. Both, however, still ended up setting PRs, but were zapped with cramping legs late in the race that forced them to walk.

It’s left me with some questions about how much sports drink to take in during a race. I have experimented with Gu in the past while on long runs. Maybe that will take care of it all. Or maybe salt tablets are necessary.

This article chalks it all up to getting in sufficient miles in training and then taking in salt and sports drink during a race, but it doesn’t really indicate how much. Looks like I have some research to do.

I got out this morning for 5.5. Didn’t get in any running over the weekend. My activities could count as cross-training, though. At least I am sore enough that they should qualify.

Went camping over the weekend with the youngest Ozling and his Cub Scout den. Not many experienced campers among the other fathers. One said he hadn’t been camping recently. I asked how recently. Back when he was a Cub Scout. About 30 years ago.

We all survived and had a good time. Fun times around the campfire. And we took a nice hike around the lake at Watkins Mill State Park. A large portion of the trail was paved, which didn’t seem to agree with my hiking boots. My calves are sorer this week than they were in the days after the half marathon.

Drifting

I’m like a rudderless boat piloted by a skipper without a map.

It’s not necessarily a bad thing.

It’s going to take some adjustment, though.

For months now I have been guided by a daily grid detailing either rest or a certain number of miles I need to run. With only a few exceptions, I remained true to the training schedule, keeping my eyes on the race at the end of the road.

Now, though, I don’t really have a big race in mind. I don’t have a schedule.

Before the race, I didn’t want to start thinking too much about what comes after a half marathon. That would have been cart-before-the-horse, chickens-before-they-hatch thinking – rather presumptuous and possibly bringing on bad luck. Guess I am superstitious about these things.

I got out twice this week. Tuesday was just an easy four miler. Today, the Ozlings were out of school and I took the day off work. We’re going camping later and I need to pack. This morning I was able to go run. While the sun was shining. What an odd experience.

Didn’t really have a course in mind. Before I left, one of the Ozlings asked how far I intended to go. 5, maybe 6, I replied. I just went meandering. 6.5 miles later, I was home. It felt great. The leaves are starting to turn. I got to catch a better glimpse of some of the fancy houses along parts of one of my favorite courses. Some folks have really gussied up their places with cool Halloween decorations.

My immediate need is to figure out some kind of training routine. Having a schedule motivates me to get out of bed in the morning and lace up the shoes. Marathon and half-marathon schedules are in ready supply. Not really sure where to find an off-season conditioning schedule. I am in fairly decent shape at the moment, if I do say so myself. Don’t want to lose all of this.

Eventually, like Topher, I will want to set some bigger goals and get a bit more serious again. Next fall could be interesting.

Two for one race bling

Think Global. Run Local.

There’s plenty that divides us. Why not seek ways to unite us?

At least that’s what SteveRunner and a few of our fellow runners such as Mal, John, Ben and Terry think. I say, Right on.

These runners, who also happen to have some of the most inspiring podcasts, blogs and running Web sites around, organized a little event recently that brought this community we call Earth a little closer together.

The Phedippidations World Wide Half Marathon – and kick the couch 5K – Challenge.
Over the past two weekends, more than 1,200 runners from all over the United States, Europe, Iceland, Australia, Japan and nearly every other corner of the globe laced up the shoes for a 13.1-mile jaunt, or in some cases a 5K.

Check out the map of all the participants. I find it stunning.

Some of us ran in organized races. Many others ran a course of their own choosing. While we all placed our toes on a different starting line, we really did come together, at least virtually.

I truly felt connected as I listened to the many runners contributing comments, encouragement and advice on the Cheers from the World edition of the Phedippidations podcast recently. I played the episode as I drove along the Kansas City Half Marathon course the day before the race. Mal offered a series of mantras, including “pain hurts less than regret,” that I found going through my mind on race day.

Getting lost in my thoughts on a solo long run is one life’s great pleasures. But hanging out with some fellow runners on a run or at an expo before a race also is a kick. Uniting across the miles through an event such as the Worldwide Half is just amazing.

Can’t wait to participate in the Third Annual Phedippidations World Wide Half Marathon challenge next year.

Through our shared passion for running and living life to the fullest, maybe we can overcome differences or other obstacles that divide us. By lacing up running shoes together, who knows? Maybe it can bring together Southerners and Yankees. Republicans and Democrats. Beer drinkers and wine drinkers. Or – I know this is probably the craziest possibility of all (and yes, it’s hard to swallow that KU is ranked over Mizzou during football??!! season) – Jayhawks and Tigers.

Plus, don't discount the fact that participation can bring 2-for-1 race bling. I’m proud of the medal I got for finishing the KC half. But the WorldWide Half certificate is just as cool.

Rockin' in Kansas City

So the plan was to set aside my jumble of injuries, frustration, regret – and maybe a touch of self loathing— stewing away inside me in order to provide time to heal and regroup.

After a while, I got back on the road and steadily pursued a training plan intended to make me stronger and prepare me for another race. The goal eventually emerged as a half marathon, but the idea was to train without serious injury, have a good overall experience and then decide what to do after that.

I am happy – Oh so happy, and maybe a bit ecstatic – to report this morning:

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!

The Kansas City half marathon rocked and as far as nailing my goal, so did I.

What a beautiful morning and a fantastic race.

We had record turnout for the event that started in downtown Kansas City and then wove its way through some of the highlights of our fair city, including Westport, the Plaza and the 18th and Vine jazz district.

Last night it was a treat to meet RunningJayhawk, Out of Shape Guy Mike (a.k.a. Jayhawk’s husband) and Jayhawk’s family at the marathon expo. The Chicago runners flew in for the half marathon. We had one uncomfortable moment when it was revealed I went to college in this region, but not in Lawrence. “Was it the school I loathe or the one I despise?” she asked. “Mizzou,” I replied, drawing a grimace. Hope our shared passion for running and enjoying life will be enough to help us overcome this hurdle – although, admittedly, it might be a bit of a challenge during basketball season.

Jayhawk’s adventures and encouragement seem to have inspired other members of her family also to lace up the running shoes. In addition to our own fun times and health-improving benefits of our running, it’s tremendous when the example we set can get others out on the road too.

This a.m., somehow I was able to find my running friend Rob standing amid the gaggle of thousands of runners in the early-morning darknesss. Rob was running the full marathon, but the half and full courses were the same through 6 miles.

We ran together early on, including up some nasty, nasty hills in the first couple of miles. I was only half kidding when I asked Rob whether we should put on climbing harnesses and rope in case one of us slipped off the steep cliff of a hill by Liberty Memorial. He looked strong, strong, strong when he zigged and I zagged to finish our different races. Can’t wait to hear his race report.

Around mile 5 I spotted Mrs. Oz and the Ozlings jumping, cheering and offering awesome support by the side of the road. I swooped in for a batch of high 5s and then was on my way. After the hills, we were treated to a downward drop and long sections of flat.

I turned on the jets. Coach Eladio had me well trained. He had been sprinkling in a bunch of hilly courses for our Saturday morning long runs in recent weeks. They helped. I was cruising on the ups, the downs and felt strong through the end.

We had good crowd support for most stretches of the race. It thinned out a little during the back section, but those who were there offered enthusiastic cheering and an occasional cow bell.

With a mile to go, I did a mental check. The usual twinges, although they were relatively muted, checked in. But I was doing fine. My last three miles were 7:41, 7:25 and 7:30. I averaged 8:23 for the entire run. I came in at under 2 hours. Better than I had hoped.

That marathon monkey probably will remain on my back until I can offer a similarly positive report for 26.2, but today I at least loosened his grip.

Take your mark....

Think, coiled spring. Maybe, rocket on a launch pad. Or, how about a cheetah just before he bolts after some hapless gazelle?

OK. You get the idea.

I’m ready.

As I walked back toward the house after dropping the Ozlings off at school this morning, I was skipping and jumping as I thought about tomorrow. I was careening through the house this morning, singing goofy songs.

I’m giddy.

Going to be good times. Topher – I’ll run for donuts – and RobRuns are running. Little Miss Runner Pants will be passing out cups of thirst-quenching electrolytes. Thanks for the support! And, we are getting a very cool guest appearance from RunningJayhawk. Welcome to Kansas City! My neighbor Bob was going to run, but he decided to shift to leading the support team for his wife, Adrienne, who is running the Des Moines half the next day.

We’ll miss you Bob, but you are a good and supportive guy. Maybe next year in Kansas City.

The Kansas City Marathon and half marathon has set a record for participation. Looks like we are going to have 5,500 pairs of running shoes laced up on the starting line Saturday.

I printed off a course map and discussed with Mrs. Oz where she and the Ozlings might position themselves at a couple points along the course. A little later this afternoon I am heading over to the expo.

My participation Saturday will be a bit of half marathon double dipping. In addition to my entry in the Kansas City race, I also intend to enter my time for the Phedippidations Worldwide Half Marathon Challenge.

The second year for that very cool race also has record participation. SteveRunner (fantastic podcast definitely worth checking out) and all the gang organizing that event have done a great job.

I’m inspired.

OK. Let’s do this thing.

Race day is coming....

Weird. And kind of spooky.

I went through nearly my entire run this morning without seeing another semi-nocturnal creature in running shoes. I did see a fox scamper across the street. That was cool. But only at the end did I encounter a pair of other runners.

It almost seemed as if some runner’s version of martial law had been imposed on the area. The Kansas City Marathon (and for folks like me, the Half Marathon) is only days away so everybody in the city must taper.

Even if that’s the case, I don’t think I caused too much of a violation. Did an easy 5 miles. Felt pretty good, for the most part.

The flipping of the calendar pages leaves me unable to deny that I am another year older. It would be nice to think I am wiser, but I cannot offer the same tangible proof.

A year ago, I realize now, my DNF at the marathon in Milwaukee should have been a do not start. My foot was hurting so bad and I developed a case of IT Band Syndrome in the final weeks of training that I misguidedly decided that an extreme taper was the way to go.

I didn’t run a step for at least two weeks, and maybe closer to three, before the race. When we got to the city, my foot was bothering me even as I walked from the hotel over to the expo. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I was doomed from the start and should have realized it.

So far, my plan seems to be working this year. I decided to aim for a Half Marathon and dial back the distance in training. I did a 13 miler and a series of 12 milers, but that was the maximum distance.

Can’t say I haven’t experienced some discomfort and twinges, but it is nothing like a year ago. I think I’m ready.

I am looking forward to it. Hope it’s fun, though I am a bit anxious. I have done the distance before, but I just can’t seem to escape the self doubt and mind games before a race.

I’ll take it as a good omen that the latest weather forecast – I know, I know. Like we have any reason to really believe the prognostications of these witch doctors with Doppler radar -- is calling for race time temperatures in the low 50s.

Plus, I made it through this morning’s run without getting dumped on. Only as I placed my key in the front door did I get a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder.

Squish, squish, squish

Did somebody move Kansas City to the Pacific Northwest while I wasn’t watching?

It rained last night. Again.

Getting out the door this morning for an easy 3 miles, I was greeted to raindrops dripping from the trees and puddles everywhere. It must have just stopped.

After my rain-soaked runs over the previous couple of weeks and my rainy weekend in the wilderness, I am just starting to wonder whether I should skip the race Saturday to work on building an ark.

Look, if somebody did move Kansas City to the rainy Northwest, I wouldn’t be mad. The way I figure it, the wet conditions wouldn't be terrible. That's why they invented Gore-Tex, right?

But if we are going to get their weather, I also want the views of Mount Ranier and the ocean.

Cross training with thunderstorms and tents

As I lay awake in my tent the past couple of nights listening to the thunder shake the skies and the rain pelt our shelter, I pondered the upcoming race.

One week.

The Kansas City half marathon is Saturday October 20.

We’re about to see what can come from training through the summer, focusing on the goal and then getting to the starting line.

We took the Ozlings into the wilderness over the weekend for a little cross-training expedition we call camping. We drove north and some of our longtime friends from Nebraska came down to meet us at Indian Cave State Park in southeastern Nebraska.

Good times. Wet, make that extremely wet, times. But good times, nonetheless.

The forecast said we could get hit with some rain on Saturday afternoon and Sunday. The forecasters were close. The torrential downpour of near biblical proportions arrived about 3 a.m. Saturday.

It was kind of strange to see the tent completely illuminated as if someone were shining a floodlight just above us. Then a few beats later, “Ruuumble! Rummmble! Crack!”

Our tent did its job. The wet was on the outside. We were dry on the inside.

It was actually kind of cool to experience a thunderstorm with only a narrow nylon barrier separating us from the raging wind, rain and lightning outside.

The rain eventually let up Saturday enough for us to take a hike. That was about the extent of the exercise over the weekend. I squeezed in an 8-miler on Thursday, knowing that our camping trip would mess with my running schedule. It was my final semi-long run before the half marathon.

Thinking about the Chicago Marathon survivors, I am a little anxious about the conditions on race day. Kansas City has a wonderfully scenic course, but it certainly isn’t as famously flat as Chicago’s. So let’s be clear, we don’t need any excessive heat.

The forecast at the moment calls for a high of 69 and a low of 55 next Saturday. Shouldn’t be terrible, but a few degrees cooler would be nice.

Not that I really trust a forecast this far out anyway. Those meteorological jokers told us we were going to have a clear first night of camping this past weekend.

After we got home this afternoon, I had a front yard full of drenched gear to prove otherwise.

Good Fun that is Funny

So a couple weeks ago when I was greeted, “Good morning,” by heavy rain, thunder and lightning, I followed the advice of that renowned philosopher, Dr. Seuss.

“The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So (I) sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.”

Didn’t really want to chance getting crispy from a lightning strike, but I also didn’t feel great about missing my run that day.

This morning as I was getting my running gear together, again came the rain. This time, it was like I was giving in to the temptations of the Cat in the Hat. (My choice of literature doesn’t offer too much of a hint that I am a runner dad with little ones in the house, does it?)

“I know it is wet. And the sun is not sunny. But we can have lots of good fun that is funny.”

So I laced up the Mizunos and headed out the door. The rain seemed to have let up a little. Or not. It was gushing. My feet got squishy. But I only was trying to do three miles. Suck it up.

It’s part of the marathon pact, I guess.

We do our work. We put in the miles on hot days, cold days and wet. Train our muscles, Prepare our bodies. Prepare our minds. It’s like putting money in the bank.

Then on marathon day, or in my case in a couple weeks, half marathon day, we make a withdrawal, run the race and everything is great. Right?

Well, yesterday in Chicago, not so much. What a disaster.

I am so upset, thinking about all of those runners – literally tens of thousands of them – who ran, ran and ran some more all summer. They prepared for the goal. Then they were greeted with scorching heat. And – though race organizers seem to be disagreeing – they were greeted with an overabundance of hot sun and a dearth of water, Gatorade and ice.

A guy died. Hundreds more went to the hospital. Many others stumbled into medical tents.

I am anxious to hear how some friends who were running the Chicago marathon fared. As I heard the news yesterday, I checked on the progress of RunningJayhawk. She was OK, just putting in her usual gutsy performance and finding rays of light on an otherwise dark day. Jason and Leah also were impressive on a ridiculous day. Mouse was not racing, but she earns praise as a superhero, rushing to the aid of the ailing runners unable to get enough water and ice on the course.

Stones in my shoes

Toughening up – physically and mentally – I realize, would do me some good. It would help me bull through more challenges.

Sometimes, though, accepting pain is stupid.

As I ran this morning I thought I felt a stone in my shoe. A tiny fleck of a stone, actually, but an irritant nonetheless.

At first I ignored it. Keep running. Don’t stop. Must not stop, I thought.

Why?

It wasn’t a race. Just doing a six-mile training run. Not really trying to maintain any particular pace. Just wanted to get in some miles, focus on my form and enjoy the early morning.

About three miles in I started to detect a hot spot, a precursor to a blister. Still, I kept going. Must keep going.

Wait a minute. Last year I developed some blisters on long runs. That sucked. So I stopped, sat on the curb and removed my shoe. Sure enough, I had some tiny, tiny rock in there.

I brushed it off, put my shoe back on and was on my way.

Ahhh. Relief. I couldn’t believe how much of a difference it made.

So, yes, sometimes it’s good to be tough and bull my way through challenges. But other times, obviously, the smart thing is to stop, deal with the underlying source of the pain and then move on.

I wonder if this applies to more than my running?

I needed that one

Just rattled off 7.

Nothing spectacular. A steady, strong and comfortable seven miles.

I needed that. Badly.

Disastrous would be overstating the case. But my past week of running hasn’t been good. I was starting to wonder whether the wheels were coming off my running wagon. Again.

Last Tuesday I was scheduled for an 8-miler. As I awoke in the wee hours, the sky was flashing with lightning, the house was shaking with thunder and rain was gushing from the skies.

Maybe I’m a wimp. I didn’t mind getting wet. But I also didn’t want to get crispy from lightning. I bagged it.

The next day I went out and did my 8. I felt tight, but relatively OK.
I was going to go out and do 6 the next day, but felt a cold starting to take hold in my chest. One of the Ozlings has steadily been developing a cough over the past week. I decided to rest. I’ve been dropping Vitamin C bombs every day – I think it’s working.

I think it was the first training run I bagged without rescheduling while preparing for the upcoming half marathon.

On Saturday, I was supposed to do my longest long run for this round of training. 14. But the other Ozling had a flag football game. I joined the Saturday group for our 7 a.m. start. I did 10 miles. Not a very good 10. My left leg started to hurt. I pushed through, but didn’t feel good about the run.

Then I sprinted back to the car and cruised over to the game. I was a little late, but arrived in time to see the Ozling dash into the end zone and complete a pass. Wow.

Last night I worked on stretching my hamstrings and have gotten out that torture device known as a foam roller more consistently over the past few days. It seemed to help.

I started out slowly this morning and then cruised through the rest of the run. My left leg felt a lot better. The stretching made a difference.

I want to do well on my 12 miles on Saturday. I could use the mental boost. It was starting to feel like my body was falling apart. I was losing focus.

I’ve got to get a grip. Stay strong. I’m almost there.