After consulting my Coach, and lengthy deliberation with one of the most helpful runners and running specialty stores I know, I have effectively switched allegiances from Mizuno Elixir’s to Asics Gel Nimbus.
In the running arena, this roughly equates to switching political parties, for after years of steadfast support to one manufacturer/ideology, switching requires a great deal of certainty, and conviction.
It was once said that if something is not broken, one ought not attempt to change or fix it. Four consecutive injuries in one pair of shoes is a conviction as good as any.
After the purchase, I ran for 51 minutes on the treadmill, as it is gusty and a chilly 9 degrees in Manchester. For the first time in two weeks, ran without any support on my left ITB.
A bit of stiffness, twinges and the like for the first mile or so, but as the pace increased, the pain diminished. This made me content.
Covered a little over 6 miles, with a heart rate averaging 152, and peaking at 184. (whew, this was tiring!)
Check out the shoes below.

Permit me to list a few of the enigmas resting hostily inside me.

1.) I am tired. I don't have that much energy for some reason at all. Caffeine is not helping. Food is not fueling. I ran a 16 miler yesterday, and felt good, but today I am a zombie.

2.) Shoes. I have had Mizuno Wave Elixir's for the better part of two years. Something inherent to them has been changed. I know now what it is, but I am certain that is what is causing these simple discomforts, that once were thought to be nothing. So I am investing in some new type of shoe in the near future. I don't know what they will be, but I need to change something.

3.) RIght ITB a bit tight, rolling to eradicate this issue. Right adductor, lateral thigh area sore also. Icing and ibuprofen and stick on this. Will keep all posted.

In Manchester today, it was a gripping 6 degrees for the vast majority of the day.
I have not run two days consecutively in several weeks. Today was judgment day.
Though I initially had planned to bear the burden of the gnawing cold, feeling the lashes of wind-chill. This was initially planned as an easy, conquerable 3 miles.
I folded. I lacked a cover for my head. Thus was born my adventure indoors.
The very nature and design of a treadmill is unnatural. It draws your legs away from you, forcing you to overcome what ought to be natural responses by your neuromuscular system. In short, a treadmill is a false light of the running solaces.

I began at what one might call a trot, which then developed to a gallop, which evolved to a steady state run, which then created symptoms of mild euphoria, culminating in a state of ecstasy.
While cognizant of the fact that I was indoors, I felt strangely free of this mechanized droid.

At the conclusion of 6 miles at Zone 5 pace for the last 10 minutes, I felt renewed, but I also felt accomplished. This pace I had not seen in many weeks. At a peak of 6:40, it is reminiscent of cross-country.

I abandoned the elements, for a more civilized, domesticated form of cardio-respiratory stress. I invested in the artificial medium of greater illumination

Empirically, all you need is time to find your space in false light.

Song: Call On Me

Okay. So I ran Sunday PM.
4 miles at aerobic intensity. Felt good, up hills are good, lateral movements were hard.
Today, for the first time in several months, I ran through my favorite loop in downtown. 6.2 miles at whatever pace I wanted to make of it. Goodness was it fun. I taped up the knee, sleeve and all, a little biofreeze, and I was free. All of the familiar sights, sounds and street signs were back again.
I’m just so happy I did this run.
It was one of those endeavors, where all you need is the quality of imagination.

The Human Spirit

I often find, that there are essentially two methods of thought, within which sociey is classified:
Those who live and yearn for a tomorrow, and those who exist in the moment, untouched by the past of future.
I am acutely aware of the implications of a predomiance on the past over the present; and an obsession over what will occur, nevermore.

The illiotibial band syndrome, which I have had in the past, is finite. I know what to expect from it, and what the ailment is that inhibits me from my passion.
But I also am fortunate. I can cycle, swim, and put in lengthy sessions on the elliptical trainer. Today was one of those brief moments on irrational length, bordering on illogical.
I have no option but to remain steadfast in a positive direction, unknowing of the past, and willfull to accept the future.
In short, I don't know which outlook I subscribe to. There is pride in that. Even arrogance. But there is also experience in truth. In any event, it is the only way we can live.
Don't Stop Moving.

I recall, a few years ago, I was in a physics lab, and these bizarre, unknown yellow bracelets were on nearly every desk surrounding me.I soon learned, they were innovated by endurance athlete Lance Armstrong, created through the LiveStrong Foundation, which was created to fund and encourage cancer research.

Seemingly, everyone around the globe had one of these easily identifiable bracelets. They disappeared. Worse, those who wore them, were overweight, fast-food consuming, cigarette smoking, angry individuals, not remotely indicative of the ethos “Live Strong”

Cancer is not distant. I know a survivor, I had a cousin lost to it, and I know a woman who continues to fight this formidable challenge. Today, a battle was won in the greater war.

In 1971, Congress and President Nixon declared war on cancer. Since then, men have begun to cease smoking, and lung cancer is rapidly declining. In 2003, 396 fewer cancer deaths occurred in the U.S. We now know, that in 2004, there were 3,014 fewer deaths. What I find most alarming about this statistic, is that this is a result of the continuity of basic cancer research.

Today, we can embrace this achievement - but must be careful not to label it with the attributes of victory. For when we succumb to the tranquilizing drug of gradualism, we lose the vigor which is essential to achieving these watershed events in the history of health and medicine.

Don’t stop here.

Disorder

If there were a special education program for endurance athletes, I fear I'd be in a straight jacket, possibly even a solitary confinement cell.
I don't take direction. When things hurt, I work harder at them, seemingly burying myself into an ignominous cellar of agony and injury.
So I seek therapy, only for physical maladies over the psychological ones. One could very well maintain, that I am a hypochondriac of sorts.
I never really was. I consider myself to have a higher threshold of discomfort than several of my peers. But that isn't changing the sheer fact, that I am exponentially more often injured than they.
Further, being injured has reduced me to levels I never was. I am acutely aware of how my undergraduate peers go about perilous daily regimen: Sleep late; Go to bed late; Drink superflous amounts of liquor, and subscribe to poor diet and lifestyle.
I refuse to submit, as I know wherein lies contentment.
My active release therapist, and my coach, and my peers, and my fellow endurance brethren, dictate I need down time. For it was only 10 days ago Disney was run.
In years past, I healed much more quickly after these taxing endeavors. The idea of a zero week never really occured this time, so my ITB flared up, which now has me hobbling downstairs. At least I can walk normally.
So as of now, the conventional wisdom deposited upon me, by coaches and therapists, is to cross train, keep the mileage below 6 miles per day, and take about 10-14 days before resuming distance work ( any running over 10 miles)
The vast majority of the aforementioned principles, I can subscribe to, as I do not have my orthotics currently, which have been inhibitive of injury since I began wearing them.
Maybe in forty years, with God's will, I will be still running. And if I heed this blasphemous rhetoric my peers and coaches are calling "recovery", maybe then I can look back and say this was my finest year.

This Is Why You Ought To Rest After A Marathon:

That previous post regarding the ten-miler was fine.
I got back up to school, woke up to get in a good indoor ride on the bike, and walking down hills, up hills, and stairs is becoming quite painful.
I did a 2 mile jaunt around the field house last night, some plyometrics, and with workable pain, everything was okay.
Then, I wake up this morning, and the pain is no worse, not better.
The pain in the calf is gone, and guess where the pain is now located? The ITB.
I had this with my right knee back in 2005, and with a brace, some elliptical time, I was back in about 7 days.
But there is something else however: I still don't have my orthotics back. I was running w/o the orthotics when this pain became clear and present.
So maybe I'll take my zero week this week, with some light x-training, and hopefully be back running by Sunday.
Every minute of every day, I think about this, once.

Marathon + 7

Today I headed up for my first serious (?) run since the finish of the Disney Marathon.
I had run on Thursday, for a few miles, and felt alright, but certainly not back to normal.
Then I woke up Friday, feeling great and refreshed, only to be met with a strong upper left lateral calf pain, that made me turn around after a mile.
Saturday, a solid trainer ride on the bike.
Today, I went out, feeling A LOT better. Ran 10 miles at about an 8:30 pace. Only a few twitches here and there.
A few hours after stopping, I started to feel the calf, going up and down stairs. So I decided to ice it.
No real worries with this little hot spot, a few days on the elliptical, maybe the bike. Continuing with the ice.
I have a whole three months until Boston, which makes me giddy.

Total Time: 4:30:15
Average Heart Rate: 172 (way, way higher than it ought to have been, evident of poor training)
Maximum Heart Rate: 181
5 Mile: 46:01
10 Mile: 1:32:00
Half: 2:03:09
20: 3:17:46



The journey, the mission, and the war have been utterly finished:

Never in my life, have I encountered such a perilous climate. For within these conditions, the most primal and yet most powerful of human conditions arise. Strangely, the climate behaved in the most unfathomable ways. As the humidity reduced, the temperature rose.
In an uncanny and unexpected manner, a stretch of Florida freeway, between miles 18 and 22, brought me to the brink of my tolerance. One could quite aptly characterize it as a death march. For when others around you are reduced to bending over to vomit, walking with an impaired limb, or just struggling to keep moving, to run seems the most imprudent of all actions.
Yet somewhere, between the asphalt and agony, the sun and the prospect of surrender, a greater strength was revealed within the heat and the contextual heterodox of running. Some internal instinct, which transcends logic and neurotransmission, physiology and practicality, began to take over.
In an ironic form of comedy, it is awesome to see the greatest of human qualities, under the worst of conditions. It was once said, that sometimes man is at his best, when he looks his worst.
My favorite poet was Aeschylus. The Greeks, more than any great civilization, were acutely aware of the pain and struggles of sport. Though they also knew the thrill of victory. As I lay now, and reflect upon the 2007 Disney Marathon, I can recall the words of the ancients even today:


In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until,
in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.

This is when it starts to get to you.
T-5 days.
The flight plans are set, the finances are ensured, and the race documents are assembled.
Now I wait. I wait for the inevitable aches, twitches, and the innate narraration of "Hey, that wasn't there yesterday"
I'm giving myself five days of consecutive rest. Provided that my last run went smooth, with no aches or pains that I didn't want to feel occuring, I am trusting in this taper.
Just as on race day, I will trust my training.
I leave for Florida on Thursday (12.4.06), so hopefully upon my arrival I will achieved a greater degree of sanity.
Talk to you soon,