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.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, October 15, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, October 08, 2007
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.
“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.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
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?
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?
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
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.
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.
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