He’s Nuckin’ Futs!

Safe to say I absolute hate riding on a trainer/rollers/stationary bike.

Putting mettle to pedal

Determined Aurora man rides again for stationary-bike record

By Joel Hood |Tribune reporter

11:32 PM CDT, May 8, 2008

After 64 consecutive hours on a stationary bicycle, this is what desire looks like: face grimacing and flushed red with sweat, fatigued arms slumped over handlebars, legs rhythmically pumping mile after imaginary mile.

Only 68 more hours to go. 

For the last year and a half, a retired drug-enforcement officer from Aurora has been on a quest to get his name inked in the Guinness Book of World Records. Twice in 2007, George Hood set a world mark for consecutive hours riding a stationary bike, only to have a clerical error and a rival from Tasmania take the titles from him.

It takes a certain kind of superhuman strength and, yes, obsession to pursue an endurance record that only a handful of people around the world probably care anything about. But Hood doesn’t do anything halfway. And when he jokes about taking back the record, he doesn’t joke too long.

This week, the 50-year-old climbed into the saddle at a YMCA in Naperville for his third and what he said is his final attempt for the obscure record. By Thursday night, he had ridden for close to 90 straight hours, 42 shy of the record. That is the equivalent of about 1,000 road miles or nearly a third of the way across the U.S.

If all goes well, Hood will break the record sometime Saturday night. But this time he wants the record to stick, so he is planning on pedal- ing another 20 hours, taking his painful and exhaustive personal journey into Sunday.

“This is a genuine human effort being done for all the right reasons,” Hood said. “This is the final chapter of this trilogy.”

Guinness rules allow riders to rest for five minutes for every hour in the saddle, time riders typically use to stretch, go to the bathroom and sleep. But riders don’t have to stop each hour and are able to stockpile five-minute breaks for longer periods of rest. When Hood began riding at 9 p.m. Sunday, he rode 15 hours in a row without a break, maintaining a minimum speed of around 12 m.p.h.

His bike is perched on a small stage at the top of a converted aerobics studio. The YMCA has put a second stationary bike beside him and scattered others around the studio so people can help keep him motivated by taking a spin for an hour or two. Rock music blares from the room’s speakers, and a limp towel hangs over the sweat-soaked handlebars.

Team of helpers

Hood rides alone, but this is far from a solitary effort. A team of volunteers monitors his time and makes sure he stays alert. Every four hours or so, paramedics stop by the gym to check on his condition. And when it is time for a break, volunteers gingerly lift Hood off the bike and carry him down a wooden ramp built near the stage.

Bathroom stops are brief because Hood is on a mostly liquid diet. Volunteers then help him to a fold-out table near the bike where he stretches his strained muscles. Sleep comes the instant Hood closes his eyes but never lasts more than 10 or 12 minutes at a time.

The record may be the ultimate test of physical and psychological endurance. But the divorced father of three hopes it also inspires others to take on challenges that seem out of their reach. In that way, the record is as much about others as it is about him, Hood said. Previous attempts raised more than $60,000 for various charities, and this week he has brought in about $16,000 for underprivileged families to participate in YMCA programs.

“There’s so much negativity in the world today, so much stuff on the news that you want to shy away from,” Hood said from atop the bike. “I’m awed by the number of people who’ve stopped by, just to peek in the doorway, to see how I’m doing it. I think that really speaks to people wanting to see something good in the world.”

‘High and extreme goals’

Hood grew up in eastern Pennsylvania and joined the Marine Corps after college. The eldest of four children, Hood said he always was obsessive about discipline and high achievement, traits that served him well in law enforcement and, he acknowledges, partly explains his pursuit of this record.

“There’s a lot of psychological things here that could be looked at,” said longtime friend Kathy Lewandowski. “He’s a goal-setter and he sets really, really high and extreme goals.”

In 1986, at age 28, Hood set a Guinness record by skipping rope for 13 consecutive hours, a mark that stood less than a month. Motivated once more to stamp his name in the record book, Hood rode 91 straight hours on a stationary bike in January 2007, breaking the mark held by a Danish man. But a bookkeeping error kept the time from being certified.

Six months later, Hood officially set the record at 111 hours, 11 minutes and 11 seconds, only to have a Tasmanian rider named Eddy Kontelj best him with a mark of 132 hours a couple of weeks later.

By Thursday morning, exhaustion and a strained left knee threatened to derail Hood. That is when he grabbed a microphone and implored onlookers to jump on bikes and help him power through it. He cranked the rock music on the stereo and began to bop his head up and down. He chanted, then stood up off the seat and pumped his legs harder. He had slept a combined three hours and 57 minutes since Sunday night and burned an estimated 23,000 calories.

“If you don’t witness something like this, you couldn’t imagine it could be done,” said Marvin Paysen, Hood’s friend and training partner.

As he sailed past the 80-hour mark, Hood grabbed the microphone again.

“This is more than just an event,” he yelled, “it’s an experience you’ll remember the rest of your lives. And I’m loving it!”

Here’s the original article.  Click on the pic above to go to his web page.

He’s expected to finish at 9am on Sunday, 11 May.  Good on him!

Knowing

I’m not a religious person, by any stretch of the imagination.  But that doesn’t mean that I’m ignorant in the ways of the major religions.

I do accept that there are some things that are not ours to know.

Jim Vance posted an ESPN video documenting Ryan Shay’s life and the impact of his death on his family and community.  One can’t help but be moved by it.

Especially rough is the pain and questioning of our friend’s death, which was just two weeks ago today.  We were glad that Goddess was able to make it to Colorado to help the family attend to his wife and two lovely daughters, aged 3 and 5.  Thoughts of him and his family helped me get through some tough moments during Saturday’s marathon.

We found out yesterday that she’s pregnant with their third child.

Some things just aren’t ours to know.

2008 Country Music Marathon - A Training Run

“Remember, this is a training run” - That’s what Goddess told me as we were driving to Nashville early, early Saturday morning. She’s a good egg, keeping in mind that I typically have great training runs and just don’t live up to my expectations on race day. So a training run it was.

Expo

We waited until the day before to go to the expo, even though they recommend that the locals avoid the rush and go on Thursday. But since my parents and sister were driving up Thursday and my sister had to pick her packet up, we waited until Friday. That was our first clue about how big this race was. We’ve never seen so many folks wandering around downtown Nashville.

The expo was an expo. Lots of ways to spend lots of money, if one’s so inclined. We did pick up a few magnets - “Will Run for Beer“, “Will Run for Wine“, “Running - Cheaper than Therapy” and “26.2 - Been There, Run That“. Gotta have some fun, right?

In the middle, we ran into a road block. At first we couldn’t figure out why, then I spied Denise Austin. So Goddess and I got in line to meet her, since she’s a fixture in this house. Actually, it’s a love/hate relationship. We love to follow her stretching routines and Goddess hates every time Denise says “One more time” during the workouts, because Goddess knows it’s a lie.

So here we are with Denise. Too bad I couldn’t work it out so I was the filling.

Race Day

With Nashville only 50 miles away, we stayed home. Next time we think we’ll get a room in town, since it required a 3am alarm to get to the start line on time. A heavy, heavy rain and thunderstorms on the drive down really made for an upbeat drive (yeah, right). Then the horrible race traffic at LP field, which was backed up quite a bit on the interstate and some folks sat in line for over an hour.

This is where the Race Director really screwed the pooch. Instead of organizing police officers to direct traffic, the intersections at the top of the off-ramps were just flashing red lights. Imagine cars delivering 30,000+ racers and their families, all trying to converge on the same place at the same time. It just didn’t work. And where the 7,000 parking spots at LP field were sufficient in year’s past, it wasn’t even close this year. So lots of folks were ticketed and/or towed, according to news reports. The RD’s got a lot of thinking to do before next year’s event.

Anyway, the rain continued. Luckily enough I had enough foresight to grab some lawn bags to throw over us, so we stayed dry while we waited for the shuttle bus to get us to the start area across town, while we stood in line for the porta-johns (which didn’t have TP by the time we got there [AAARRRRGHHHHH]) and then stood in our corrals at the start line. The rain stopped right before the start, so I was able to toss the bag aside.

I was in corral 6, which was for the folks that were looking for a sub-4:00 finish. Did I have any business being in that corral? Probably not, but that’s where I thought I’d be when I signed up for this race back in December.

The gun went off for the elites right at 7am and it took me only 10 minutes to get to the start line. The RD did a great job of staggering the corrals so that we didn’t get all jammed together in the opening miles. The opening miles were nice and steady and I initiated my run/walk strategy just like I had been doing in training - run six minutes/walk 30 seconds. Lots of well-meaning folks were cheering me on, telling me to not “give up” yet whenever I stopped to walk.

Four miles into it and I finally felt warmed up and settled in to my pace. Right around 10K, I started feeling the joys of not having TP at the start and lucked upon several porta-johns that were well-stocked, with no waiting. So my average pace suffered, but in the long run I know it was for the best.

Solid, steady pacing for the next 10 miles. I hit the halfway point at 1:58, so I was on pace for a sub-4:00. I was feeling quite strong at that point, which fit into my plan of slowly ramping up the pace and pushing a negative split. I was poised well.

At mile 15 I felt a little bit of stomach pain. Nothing significant, but I’ve had enough issues in that arena to recognize the onset. So I settled back a bit and let it work itself out, which it did by mile 17. Which just happened to coincide with the longest hill of the course, located between miles 17-18. That’s when the wheels started to wobble a bit, but I didn’t worry about it. Pushing through that, mile 19 felt good, back down at a comfortable pace.

Mile 20 is when the wheels came off. And that’s when a sub-4:00 slipped by me, both figuratively and literally - I watched with slight dismay as the 4:00-pacer slowly passed by with a group in tow. The cumulative climbing caught up to me, as it did with a lot of people by this point. From here on out, my pace swung from 11:23 to a 14:07 mile 23. I didn’t bonk - even with the gastro issues earlier, I had been fueling right from the start at regular intervals, since I carried my fuel with me instead of relying on the water/food stops.

As you can see, mile 23 was the worst point. I hit a section where both quads locked up on me, so it was some ginger walking for a little while. This cramping surprised me, since I was taking Endurolytes religiously throughout the event and had even loaded up on electrolytes for the previous several days in an effort to stave off any cramping. But as you can see, I was able to work it out and started ramping up the pace for the last few miles.

Once the sub-4:00 goal slipped away, I started thinking about my standing PR. Even through the rough points I knew I was going to set a new PR, so it was a matter of by how much. My next floating goal was to break 4:15, but that slipped by too. Then it was to break my standing PR by over an hour, which was still within reach over the until mile 24. By then I knew I’d have to crank out two 7:00-miles to achieve it and that just wasn’t going to happen. But as you can see, I was able to ramp it up for those last two miles.

I was worried about cramping again, especially as I approached the finish chute. Crossing the 26-mile point, I kept looking at my Garmin and wondering if I was going to break 4:30. I wasn’t sure, since the Garmin turned off on me for less than a minute early on (between miles 3-4). That last two-tenths of a mile was uphill and then a hard left turn. I kept accelerating up the hill and made that turn, throwing all caution to the wind. My Garmin clocked me at a 6:15/mile pace for that last tenth of a mile and the legs locked right after I crossed the line. My Garmin told me 4:29:02, but I knew it was more than that. So I had to wait until I got home to find my official time, which was 4:29:47.

A new PR by over 56 minutes.

Official splits:

6084  •  Bill Anders  •  M-39  •  Marathon  •

Gun: 7:00:30 AM	5k	6Mi	10Mi	Half	20Mi	Finish	O’All	Sex	Div
Chip: 7:10:42 AM	28:11	54:12	1:31:28		3:10:49	4:29:47	2294	1509	260
Race Pace:	9:05	9:02	9:09		9:33	10:18

Memorable moments

- At about mile two, a lady motioned ahead of me and said “Well, that’s something to see”. It was a “guy” wearing nothing but running shoes and a pair of hot pink daisy dukes. We saw him post-race at during our feed at Baja Fresh. Luckily he had changed, but I wanted to ask him if he had any chafing.

- Watching the blind runner and his guide, working smoothly as a team as she described the neighborhood so he could “see” where he was running. I reminded me of riding through the Hill Country of Texas with a blind rider while the captain on his tandem described the springtime scenery to him. I know he enjoyed the scenery just as much as we did.

Off-topic plug: For those of you looking to put in some serious early-season bike mileage, I cannot recommend Nick Gerlich’s “Texas Hell Week” enough. A non-supported, but highly organized event, you can meet and ride with cyclists from all over the world who are looking to build a significant base by riding 500-800 miles in eight days. You’ll be amazed that you can do it and after the initial saddle pain of the first three days, you’ll be sprinting up hills and flying along the flats on day seven. But if Texas doesn’t fit your schedule, he’s started up several other Hell Week’s that might work for you. It’s been nine years since I’ve taken part, but I have no doubt that it’s still a quality event.

- At about mile four, the leaders went by on the other side of the street. Impressive to see the leaders, who were now about three miles ahead, even though they started only ten minutes before me.

- At about mile 14, we turned and headed up a hill, which was located right in front of a church. Lined up along the hill were several dozen nuns, replete in their habits, cheering on the runners. Lots of hoots, hollers, and high-fives, as well as a water stop advertising cups of holy water. I should’ve grabbed one, since it was just a while later when the stomach started feeling wonky.

- Right at mile 18, we started heading downhill, which gave a great view of the oncoming masses running the half-marathon. We had split at mile 11 and now we were about to meet up again. With about 21,000 in the half-marathon compared to 5,000 in the marathon, there was a huge difference in runner density. Plus, right about this point I saw the helicopter hovering near LP Field, knowing that the elites were finishing up their races. I cursed.

- While Brian had to sing to himself, we had bands scattered all along the course. Some of the music was memorable, some was not. But as Brian would attest to, there’s a point in a run where one must sing the chorus from “Just a Gigolo”. Come on, you know how it goes - “I ain’t got no body“. Brian, you would have enjoyed the band at mile 23, who decided to play the song and I managed to time it to be right in front of the stage just as they got to the chorus. What a boost.

- Immediately following the “Gigolo” chorus, we met with the Hash House Harriers water/beer stop. For the first time in my life, I bypassed the beer table. I was focused.

- Climbing a small hill in mile 25, a guy was in the shade, holding a sign for his wife/girlfriend. It said “Lisa - Run! Dick Cheney’s right behind you!” I asked if Dick had a shotgun.

- Meeting with Goddess and my sister as they finished their half-marathon. After I made it through the chute, turned in my chip and grabbed some food, I called to find them. They still had a couple of miles to go, so I started walking towards them. I found some shade and then had a lot of fun cheering on folks in both the half and full. I walked with Goddess and my sister for a while, then cut the course to meet them at the finish. A bit of loud, obnoxious cheering and then some shame - I started running next to them and yelled “Hey, if I can do this, so can you“. So they ran to the finish line.

- Afterwards, my sister saw an old guy, with cane and race number, sitting off to the side. She went up and talked to him and found out that he is 88 years old and had walked the half-marathon in his walking shoes, slacks, button-up shirt and carrying an old cassette player so he could listen to his Elvis tape while he walked. He cruised, finishing the course in a time that Goddess and my sister were jealous of.

Summary

- Overall, a good race. I rolled into this one injury-free and rested, even though the previous weeks had been pretty hectic and stressful.

- While I’m very pleased with setting a PR with such a large margin, I’m still bugged by the cramping issues that seem to plague me at every long event. But that gives me room for improvement, right?

- Mentally, I made several breakthroughs during this race. One of the most significant was knowing that I could push myself harder through the pain in the closing miles. A lot of that came from running a strong double-long weekend as well as several other long runs these past few months.

All-in-all, a good day.

Moments of Zen

Both Frazz and Caulfield hit this nail on the head.  I defrag using both methods.

Travel this week threw any semblance of a training regiment out the window.  Managed to miss our flight out by 5 minutes, thanks to an extremely full parking area that forced us to park somewhere in Minnesota in order to catch our flight in Nashville.  By the time we got into the hotel in SC, it was 1230am.  Typically I’d get up at 430am to run, but that wasn’t going to happen since I had to be in a meeting at 7am.

Worked all day, had dinner with friends that I hadn’t seen in many years, then it was off to bed before getting up early to head to the airport.  And the whole time I was glad I wasn’t flying American.

Sipping coffee this morning, looking out the window and wondering why there were barricades up along the road behind our house.  Then the bikes started flying by.  It was a youth triathlon, based out of the indoor pool down the block.  So Goddess and I got out there to cheer the little ones on.  Age groups were broken up into 6-7, 8-9, 10-11 and 12-13.

The 6-7 AG, especially the women, was the best.  Flying on a schweet pink Schwinn, complete with matching pink corduroys, pink down jacket (it was cool and windy) and pink helmet, the lanterne rouge of the event did it in style.  She’ll be rockin’ the course for years to come.  Watch out Amanda!

School work and a long run is all that’s in store for this weekend.  Well, that and washing and repacking, since I’ll be traveling again this week.  Meh.

“That’s it. You can’t race anymore!”

Not my words. That phrase came out of Goddess’ mouth this afternoon. I’ll explain later.

This weekend I ran a marathon. Not a race, but a marathon.

Training.

It came about in an interesting way. Following my training plan, I had my standard 20-miler scheduled for Saturday. You know, the same 20-miler that’s in every marathon training plan. Yeah, that one. No worries, but it was a matter of scheduling.

Everything was piling up towards this weekend: two mid-terms due, the 20-miler, volunteer hours for the Greyhound Rescue and multiple jobs for both work and home. There just wasn’t a good fit for a 20-miler. At least, not without getting up at 4am and running in the dark.

So I ran across a very good blog entry by Gary Ditsch that reminded me of some viewpoints on the 20-miler. Specifically, don’t do them.

Now, there are many arguments on both sides of the fence for and against the 20-miler. And there’s certainly a time and place for them, but not in a typical training plan. At least for me.

I don’t know about you, but a run that long wipes me out for quite a few days. The quality of my runs in the following week are marginal, at best. And that’s assuming that I do them. Some days I’m just knackered and don’t feel like getting out there. That’s tough on the psyche to see the red flag on workouts I’ve skipped.

After my normally scheduled Saturday long run, I take my standard rest day on Sunday. That was something that I stuck with all last year through the IM training - keep a weekend day open for family and relaxation. I’ve continued that this year with the run-focused training. Unfortunately I often feel my legs slowly stiffen up through the day, which makes for a painful Monday morning run.

I think I found a solution to part of the problem, which I worked through last weekend’s 16-miler. Following Jeff Galloway’s plan of run/walk, I felt pretty fresh in the days following the run. Sure, my legs were tired, but I wasn’t stiff and sore. By Tuesday my legs felt recovered and I was quite comfortable through a 6-mile cruise interval workout.

So what does that have to do with this weekend and the title of this entry? Quite a bit.

After reading Gary’s blog and recalling several articles along the same lines, I looked at employing the Double Long strategy this weekend, which I could fit into my schedule. Much easier than a 20-miler. But instead of doing simple math, I decided that I’d do a 15-miler on Saturday before our Greyhound Rescue commitment, then a 10-miler Sunday morning. That adds up to more than 20 miles (at least by my calculations, but math in public is not my strong suit).

Saturday was a beautiful day to run - 42 degrees, a bit of wind and cloudy. I employed the same run/walk strategy as last week - 4 minutes running, 30 seconds walking. The walk breaks do a great job of making me stay focused on hydration and fueling. Plus, by keeping an eye on the Garmin, I was able to quickly catch the two times that it decided to turn off by itself.

And I felt good. Real good. Running the same course as last weekend’s 16-miler, I covered the distance in 2:26:50, which averages out to 9:47 miles. Certainly not anything that will get me on the Olympic Team (right, Karl?), but better than last weekend’s average of 10:19 miles. I was even able to push the last half-mile at 8:05 pace while knowing I still had more in the tank. Here’s my accumulated pace:

For the increases in accumulated pace (Miles 4, 9, 11 and 14), there are long, gradual climbs. Miles 11 and 14 are the same hill, which is a wall at the bottom, followed by a steady climb for 200-300 yards, then leveling off. Mile 3 is a nice flat section where I finally start warming up, so I’m usually much quicker through that stretch.

During the run, I realized that my weekend plan would have me running 25 miles (see, I’m real quick with that math in public). Well, that’s only 1.2 miles short of a marathon, so that means I needed to extend my Sunday run to be 11.2 miles. Why? Just because. Well, not just because, because “just because” equates to junk miles. There was actually a purpose. Mentally and physically.

Within two hours of finishing the run, we were standing on concrete for three hours introducing folks to the joys of greyhounds. We had seven hounds in attendance and they were everywhere. Since they grow up in very close quarters, they are very comfortable with other hounds. As soon as we went through the front door of the store, Skinny caught sight of the others and about pulled my arm off so he could get to sniffing butts.

Standing on the concrete didn’t do much for recovery, so my glutes tightened up a bit. Nothing horrible, but I was definitely ready to go when we were done. Even Skinny had enough and curled up in the one crate that was set out; too much standing for him, especially since he’s used to lying around the house for 20 hours a day.

I woke up this morning, just a touch tired in the legs, but no soreness. I’m really starting to see the benefits of a run/walk strategy.

Another beautiful day - low 50’s, a bit of a breeze, overcast. But humid. Plenty of moisture as a precursor to the rain we were to get this afternoon.

I figured that the first mile or two were going to be pretty slow as I found the pain in my legs. No such thing happened. Right out the gate I was pulling very comfortable 9:30-ish miles. Even through the hills. Heading out to the turnaround, I had a tail wind, which isn’t all that great, since I end up heating up too much. As I approached the turnaround, I wanted to wait until my scheduled walk (today I was employing a 5-minute run/30 second walk strategy), so I ended up turning around at 5.78 miles, guaranteeing that I’d be over 11.2 miles for the run.

Coming back, I had a good 5 mph head wind. It was beautiful, since it really cooled me down. Double layered up top with a technical long-sleeve shirt and an Under Armor compression shirt, the breeze really helped with the evaporational cooling. Ahhhh, sweet relief.

How did it go? Awesome. Negative split, even with the headwind on the return leg. 11.53 miles in 1:47:38, which works out to a 9:20 average pace, 27-seconds per mile faster than yesterday. Here’s the accumulated pace:

Mile 2 is a long uphill. Since it’s climbing out of a deep ravine, the return leg was mile 11. I was cruising at that point and didn’t lose any time. Mile 4 was a very convenient porta-potty stop. So even with the headwind, my average pace dropped from 9:35 for mile 6 to 9:20 overall by mile 11.5.

And same as yesterday, I was able to crank it up for the finish, starting about a mile out. Not a sprint, but a strong, steady effort. The last half mile’s split pace was 8:12 average, but my Garmin tells me that I was down to 7:04 for a stretch there. HR was in Zone 5 for the last 1.1 miles and it all felt good; I still felt like I could have given a bit more if I needed to (e.g. if this was a race).

And that’s how I got the title of this entry. Goddess asked how the run was and of course I was quite pleased. That’s when she said “That’s it. You can’t race anymore!”

We both find it funny how I can have these excellent workouts and then suffer and slog through my races. Each and every one of them. Go figure.

While these were both good experiences, the proof will be in tomorrow’s pudding. I ran my PT test on Friday and was not at all pleased with my 10:42 for the 1.5 miles (7:08 pace); I was shooting for 9:45 (6:30 pace), which I held for the first 1/2 mile, but then faded gradually the rest of the way. We’re doing the test again tomorrow and I think I’ll give it another go. I suspect that I won’t better Friday’s time, but it will be interesting to see what my legs have in them. Then I’ll take Tuesday off.

Well, off to read some California 70.3 race reports…

The Pot and the Kettle

Well, I got called out for calling the kettle black. Luckily mother nature delivered today and helped provide a bit of motivation.

This photo has been in my head for quite a few months. I’ve always seen it just as it’s presented to you (yes, I always saw it in black and white) every time I cross this bridge on my long runs. I just needed a bit of snow to fall. We’ve had snow several times over the past few months, but nothing significant and certainly not enough accumulation to make this photo.

Had mother nature not cooperated, I would have dug back into the vaults a bit to answer the Kettle’s call. Not too far back, since I shot this a few weeks ago. But with work, school and myriad other things that make up this thing called life, I have yet to post any in my gallery.

These are the pews in the historic Ryman Theater in Nashville, TN. Home to the Grand Ol’ Opry for many, many years, it has since be refurbished and concerts are held their often. During the winter, they move the Opry taping over from the new house and record it here. Lots of history in these seats and on that stage. And it happens to be one of my favorite places to see a show, since it’s small and the acoustics are amazing.

The problem with the size is that seats sell out within minutes for big shows. For this upcoming Sunday’s WILCO concert, I was on the computer right when the tickets went on sale. I had our seats within three minutes and could only get the back row; the entire place was sold out in under five minutes. Shows like BB King sell out even faster.

While you’re at it, take a browse over at the Kettle’s gallery. The photos are both hers and her husbands. Amazing folks the two of them are. And if you look at this year’s gallery, you’ll see photos of her trouncing the competition in her cyclocross series.

On a final note, there’s one thing I can’t stress enough. When you’re viewing anyone’s photo gallery, you really need to be using Safari as your browser. I won’t get into the technical details, but Safari (both Windows and Mac) is the only browser that will display the colors that the photographer intended for you to see. The other browsers default to a standard colorspace, which I know typically washes out my photos and makes them quite drab. For example, the pews shot above looks significantly different in my Firefox versus Safari. Safari matches how I processed the image in Photoshop and that’s how I hope you’ll look at it.

Tokyo marathon runner solves mystery of sore nipples

With a title like that, how can you not read the “news” story?

============= full text below =============

Tokyo marathon runner solves mystery of sore nipples

By Alastair Himmer

TOKYO (Reuters Life!) - Choking pollution and sapping heat will be the major concerns for the world’s elite marathon runners at this year’s Beijing Olympics.

But for millions of other marathon men and women, concerns are of an altogether more painful nature.

After his first assault at a marathon last year banker Brian Jones was shocked to discover the sharp pain in his chest was not cardiovascular, but bleeding nipples.

“When I took my shirt off at the end it was white — apart from two particular parts of it,” he told Reuters in an interview after completing his second Tokyo Marathon at the weekend.

“It looked like I had been shot by a sniper. This year I bought some Vaseline. It worked, although I had nasty chafing elsewhere.”

Such dark thoughts are unlikely to have troubled Sunday’s winner, Switzerland’s Viktor Roethlin, who powered to victory in two hours, seven minutes and 23 seconds.

But for around 30,000 fun runners who took part in Tokyo, issues such as chafing can trigger deep despair.

“I struggled to find a comfortable pair of underwear this morning,” said Jones, who clocked 4:37:46, beating his 2007 time by 11 minutes.

“I walked two kilometers this year, between 34 and 36km, because my leg seized up. The last 20-K was freezing. The wind was absolutely brutal.”

Jones credited the Japanese crowds lining the roads for helping him get to the finish.

“It was amazing,” smiled the 33-year-old bank employee. “Random people on the side of the street just appear with muscle sprays and start graffitiying the back of your leg.”

“AGONY”

Jones admitted to having had second thoughts about running again after a traumatic first attempt last year when he suffered an early knee injury.

“I was in agony last year,” said the Londoner. “My feet were all blistered and bleeding. My knee blew up. I could barely walk. Yesterday morning I was terrified.

“You read stories of runners who are fit and who train properly and they end up with serious problems, respiratory problems or someone had a heart attack.”

Worse even than the fear of sudden death, however, was the humiliation of being overtaken by pensioners at the 20km mark.

“I thought I was doing quite well and then there’s some 70-year-old granny I’m just catching up to,” Jones said with a sheepish grin.

With Tokyo’s elderly destroying his morale, and one runner further unbalancing him by trotting backwards down a hill, Jones had to trick his brain into staying focused.

“There was one woman dressed as a nurse, or a maid. I followed her for a bit,” he said.

“You think about anything to take your mind off the pain.”

Even during the most tortuous moments of Sunday’s race, quitting was never an option for Jones.

“I never thought I wouldn’t finish,” he said. “When it was really bad, when I got to about the 33km mark, it wasn’t a mental thing. It was just that my legs couldn’t move.

“I had cramp in my thighs, the back of my hamstrings, my calf and my shins — if that’s possible.”

Despite the pain, however, would he do it all again?

“Even though it hurts like hell it is fun, oddly,” said Jones. “Last year finishing at all was a miracle. When I finished I was close to breaking down.

“But I remember instantly thinking ‘I’m going to do that again.’ Yesterday I didn’t have that same feeling, although I was a little more philosophical this morning…”

(Editing by Sophie Hardach)

http://www.reuters.com/article/newsOne/idUSSYD6114520080219?sp=true

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And that’s why I now wear compression underwear, top and bottom, when I run.

Ass Sweltering Pain

Yep, that’s what I’m calling my race report. Three simple words, combined, encapsulate the week leading up to, and including, the National Marathon To Fight Breast Cancer, aka “Running with Donna 26.2″. Warning: This is a long, long, long post.

First off, the ass. I won’t include a link here, since most of you know what one is. Matter of fact, I’ve been called one from time to time. It’s even likely I’ve been called one in the past 24 hours. But I digress.

For those of you that follow this blog, you’ll know of my inability to run for the past month due to a very painful “calf pull” that I experienced in mid-January. A couple of weeks off from running, as well as stretching and massage, did seem to help. At least until I ran on it again. With only two weeks until the marathon, I was desperate to find something to fix my pain. So last week, while driving to the rodeo, I did some exploratory poking and squeezing on my calf (while driving, which I DO NOT recommend). The exquisite pain that shot up my thigh, into my glute and the small of my back got me to thinking and a bit of research once we got home that night. With the help of my Trigger Point Therapy Workbook and TriggerPoints.net, I was able to narrow down the culprit, which certainly didn’t cross my mind in the previous weeks.

Who would’ve thought that a debilitating calf issue would be caused by your butt? Even with my experiences and successes with trigger points over the past year, I certainly didn’t. In the picture below, my particular issue is the one on the right.

As you can see, the X’s mark the trigger points and the red areas mark the associated pain. I didn’t typically feel any pain in my hamstring area and had only felt the pain in my cheek area during my long runs leading up to my “calf pull”. The majority of the pain associated with this trigger point was in the area on the outside of my calf.

But that still wasn’t the “calf pull” area. That area was more associated trigger point #2 on the Soleus, but frequent massage and pressure on that trigger point did not solve the problem, so it had to have something else contributing. That turned out to be the Gluteus Minimus.

After referring to the book and the web site, it was time for a bit of exploration. For such a sensitive area, I’d normally turn to the Goddess for help, but one thing usually leads to another, so I had to do this one myself. Plus, since the gluteus minimus lies beneath the gluteus maximus, the probes had to be deep and forceful; not something she enjoys doing (she tells me “that’s your job”). The probes confirmed a line of large knots right where the muscle attaches to my pelvis. Let me tell you, there was no pleasant in this probing.

So all last week I massaged them by sitting on a tennis ball on the living room and slowly rolling over the muscle, working from one knot to the next. Quite a few times the pain took my breath away. Following each rolling session I’d stretch. I found the most effective stretch for me is the Prone Glute Stretch, which feels absolutely wonderful. By following this sequence on both legs last week, I was comfortable that I could start the marathon on Sunday.

In the final days before the marathon, I revamped my original goal (break 4:00) and came up with three separate goals, two of which I could fall back on if the previous goal was unattainable. They were:

1. Break 4:00. Even with one month off, there’s always the possibility that the forced rest from the injury would deliver me to the line so fresh that I would comfortably crank out the required 9:09 miles (which I was doing with ease on my long runs leading up to my injury last month).
2. Complete the race. With the most likely possibility that I would still be feeling the effects of my calf through the race, I would have to adjust my finish time goal on the fly and hold out for the finish.
3. Stop the insanity, wait for Goddess and my sister to catch up, then walk the remainder of the half-marathon with them. The intent of this goal was to continue to heal and hopefully set myself up for April’s Country Music Marathon in Nashville.

The overarching goal was to not injure myself any more. But doesn’t that go without saying?

Goal number three was the only goal as recent as 7 days out from the race. I had resigned myself to not running the marathon and would enjoy the morning with Goddess and my sister. That certainly isn’t a bad thing, not by any means, but my goal signing up was to race the 26.2. But with the “discovery” of my gluteus minimus, goals 1 and 2 quickly became more attainable.

After a gaggle at the start area (see “BAD” and “UGLY” below), we were off. I was very comfortable at a 9:30 pace for the first few miles, figuring that if I was to achieve goal 1, I would warm up during the first few miles and then be able to slowly ramp up the pace. That’s my typical race strategy anyway, since I don’t typically warm up for 4-6 miles.

By mile 4, I could feel my calf. No pain, but a steady discomfort; enough discomfort to back off the pace and toss goal #1 out the window. At no point during the 26.2 miles did my calf hurt like it had during the previous month, so that was a huge success.

By mile 6 I had passed the turn-around for the half-marathon, so I was committed to the full.

At mile 10, my quadricep heads started to cramp slightly. Not a good sign, but a reality of the day.

By mile 13.1, I was a full 20 minutes slower than my half-marathon split at the Flying Monkey Marathon, which had over 2,000′ of climbing. This course was flat, with only 215′ of total climbing! It was a run-walk strategy for the last 13.1 miles.

Why so slow? Other than the leg issues, for me it was the weather. Over the past several months, I’ve been running in a Kentucky winter. Runs in the snow, runs in some pretty cold wind chills, runs in dreary overcast days with temperatures hovering in the 20’s. The morning we left to drive to Florida, it was 19 degrees. And that was after a couple of days of ice and snow. In Florida, by the time the race started on Sunday morning, it was 69F with 75% humidity and continued to get worse, settling at 75F and 65% by the time I finished. In other words, relatively oppressive heat.

Although I knew it was going to be warmer, I failed to properly build my hydration and electrolytes in the days leading up to the race. It caught up to me.

I inhaled my Clif Shot Bloks, wishing I had more than just one pack of the Margarita with Salt. I started gulping the Accelerade that they provided and even talked a First Aid tent volunteer out of his bag of Lays Potato Chips at about mile 20. I was able to keep the cramping at bay for the most part, but it would rear its head enough to keep me focused on sucking down as much electrolytes as I could.

Goddess called and told me that she and my sister had finished. I was (and still am) so proud of them; neither had done anything like that before, not even so much as run a 10K. They committed to walking the 13.1 with each other.

Between miles 20 and 21, I had the most amazing walk with a lady. I first approached her because she was wobbling like crazy and I was worried about her. The heat was definitely taking its toll on everyone. Turns out she was a 68 year old who was using the marathon as a training run for an upcoming 50-mile race. She was quite upset with her performance thus far because she knew she was fitter than that, just coming off a 70-mile training week and had run under 4:00 in the past year. She was from out west, so the humidity was definitely getting to her. I waved down medical support, who had a talk with her and let her continue. I was quite pleased last night to see that she had finished the race.

By mile 22, I did some quick calculations and realized that I needed to pick up the pace if I was to finish in under 6:00. With the heat and cramping, it was going to be a challenge. At this point, everyone was walking. Occasionally someone would shuffle for a minute or so, but it really was the walk of the dead.

I revamped my walk-run strategy and threw time out the window. No matter if I picked a 2:1 or 1:1 time strategy, I just couldn’t get the legs moving very well after walking. So I decided on a 30:30 strategy, not of time, but of foot strikes; 30 left foot strikes while running, 30 left foot strikes while walking. It kept me focused and moving relatively quickly at a 9:45 pace during the run segments. In the next two miles I figure I passed between 75-100 people. That was a huge confidence boost.

At a mile-and-a-half out from the finish, the worst climb of the day arrived as we had to climb a bridge that crosses the Intracoastal Waterway. Past the last water stop and starting to cramp again, it was back to walking. Turning the last turn, greeted by the sign “The last .2 mile will kick you in the ass” and seeing the finish line got me moving again. The cramping got me walking again. Even coming up to the timing mat that they had set up with 100 yards to go, my leg locked. Luckily that didn’t come through in the pictures. I was passed by quite a few folks at this stage, but I couldn’t have cared less.

Finish time - 5:57:14 by my Garmin, chip time 5:57:18.

The Good -

• I finished. Thanks to the lack of running over the past month, this entered back into my race goals.
• I broke a rule of racing and was better for it. I wore my new pair of Injinji Toe Socks and they rocked! I had been wearing Thorlo’s for the past year+ and had always had problems with blisters on the balls of my feet, no matter how much or how long I ran. The Thorlo’s are thick and have good padding while the Injinji’s are very thin with no padding. So I discovered that with the Injinji’s I’ll likely have to come down half a shoe size to make up for the difference in sock padding. With the thinner socks, my forefoot was sliding around a bit in the shoe box, but absolutely no blisters!
• I had several mental breakthroughs during the race. Details are unimportant, but they happened.
• The communities of Jacksonville Beach and Neptune Beach absolutely rocked! A significant portion of the race ran through neighborhoods, which effectively cut them off to all auto traffic. So the residents made the best of the situation and stood out in their driveways, sprayed the runners, provided oranges and cheered. One group of guys even provided shots of beer at the 21 mile mark (it was GOOD).
• For a first-time event, the course was completely stocked with supplies on the course. There was never a shortage of water, Accelerade or Gu (I didn’t use it, but they had plenty). This was in sharp contrast to several of the more well-established events that I’ve participated in.
• The support from the community and runners (I know I mentioned the community before, but this is different). Since this event was to raise funds for Breast Cancer Research, each of us could wear a sign on our back that said who we were running for. Mine said simply “Mom”, who is a survivor. I had many folks run past saying “I’m running for Mom too”. That was always a great boost. More humbling were the folks who ran by with 7, 8 or 10 names on their sign. More amazing was running and talking with survivors who were out there pushing themselves. The couple of times that I thought about folding I thought about what my Mom and all of these others had gone through; my discomfort paled in comparison.
• The support and advice from those of you out in blogland. Thank you so much for the public and private advice and concern. That really means a lot to me.

The Bad -

• There weren’t corrals for the runners, just pacers with planned finish times, so you would look for your planned finish time and stand near that person. The gun went off and it took a couple of minutes to get to the start line (normal). But once we got moving, it was evident that several walkers had seeded themselves at the front, causing several traffic jams and collisions as the thousands of runners had to work around them. I applaud those ladies for getting out there and moving, but at the front of 8,000+ was not the place to be.
• This also goes for the folks following the Jeff Galloway plan. Overall, I believe that this group did great things for thousands of runners at the marathon, but sticking to the plan in the first mile was a recipe for disaster as the pacer yelled “Walk” and groups of 60+ runners stopped to walk just 3 minutes out from the start line; again, they caused huge traffic jams and many collisions in a very crowded situation. Tempers were flaring already and I’m surprised no one got hurt.

The Ugly -

• The race started a full 30 minutes later than the 8am start time. They knew it was going to be warm and were announcing over the loudspeakers that folks need to adjust their pacing and not plan on a PR, yet still started it late. It looks like they’ve fixed this and have adjusted the start time for next year’s race to 7:30am. Hopefully they’ll start it on time.

Lessons learned -

• Electrolyte loading - I can’t believe I still haven’t figured this one out. I’ve known for many years that I’m a very heavy sweater and that I lose a lot of electrolytes during a race. Yet I never remember to load up on them until I’m in the race.
• A stride-focused walk-run strategy is the key when I get to that stage. I was amazed at how easy it was to get moving once my left foot hit 30. And it was easy to hold an unflagging pace for “only” 30 strides.
• The Base layer is crucial. What’s that? A base layer in 70 degree weather? Yep. After running the Monkey and chafing my nipples down a full 1/32″, I learned that I needed to wear a skin tight layer under my shirt. Let’s just say it was a good thing that I wore a red shirt for that race. Since then I’ve always worn a skin tight technical shirt and haven’t had any problems. I did the same for this race and it was a godsend. Once the heat got unbearable, I peeled my outer shirt and let the slight sea breeze cool me. The wicking effect really kept me cool, even though the shirt was black. I’d even dump a cup of water over me and get chilled, which was great! So if you look at my race pics, you’ll see that I’m wearing two different shirts.
• Stretching, massage and cross-training. I need to do more of each to help with these injuries, all of which have been flexibility related over the past year. I’ve had much success with identifying the appropriate trigger point and relieving the pressure, but some have taken longer to solve and have kept me away from training longer than I’d like. So I now need to schedule more sessions each week.

Will I do this race again? Absolutely. The location was great, the community was great and it had the added bonus of allowing me to spend several days with my parents as well as my sister and her family.

From here it’s the Tom King Half Marathon next month and the Country Music Marathon in April, both in Nashville.

News You Can Use

Marathons Cut Risk Of Fatal Vehicle Crashes

So register, run and save a couple of lives.

Oh, but don’t sprint at the end.

Not much news on the training front. I’ve mainly been running for the past month since my marathon. The work schedule has really kept me from the pool during lap swim times. And since the sun sets before I leave work, I haven’t been doing much on the bike. I abhor trainers, even rollers, but I need to get back on them. And with zero triathlons on the horizon, it’s a bit tougher to jump on the trainer, even though I keep telling myself that it’s good for the soul.

Just over nine days until the Mississippi Blues Marathon. I’m running the half, which I’ll treat as a training run for my next full, the 26.2 with Donna, in February. The half is just a good excuse to get out of town for a day and see another part of the country that we haven’t yet, plus get out and shoot some photos. I can certainly run the 13.1 from my front porch, but what’s the fun in that?

Here’s hoping the Holidays are everything you want them to be. We’re nice and relaxed here.

‘Tis the Season(?)

…But I’m not exactly sure which season it is.

I think this guy’s got the right idea about how the season’s being celebrated by the masses. Damn shame, too. Goddess and I shake our heads at the news coverage and the interviews with people. What really floored me was reading an article recently where a guy admitted that he took out a home equity line of credit just to fund this Christmas. Crazy! (I really wish I could find that link again).

Goddess and I have many reasons to be joyful throughout the year, so we look at Christmas as just another day; every day we wake up and fall asleep together is a great day.

She’s making the brine right now to soak the turkey that I’ll smoke tomorrow. I still don’t think that qualifies as an event, since it’s something we do a couple of times a year.

On another note, I just found out that I won this year’s game, so I’m quite pleased. It’s a game that is played throughout the year and the results aren’t known until the last couple of weeks of the year. It’s the tax game. And my game is to come as close to zero as possible. We came out only a Jackson away from that target, so that’s a win!

And in case you’re wondering, it doesn’t matter whether it’s a plus-Jackson or minus-Jackson. It’s just like trying to hit the bullseye. That’s right - no refund or payment is a complete win. That’s the target, but it is difficult to hit. Although one day I’d love to see a single-digit number.

We do wish each and every one of you a joyous season, whatever your beliefs. And here’s hoping that 2008 is a year in which you find joy and prosperity. So get out there and celebrate the real reasons for the season.  I’m off to give Goddess a hug.