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!

Well, the reason for the lack of races over the next six months is rapidly approaching.  And the reason for absolutely no triathlons this year.

In less than 48 hours, I step onto a plane and head off to Iraq for six months.

Goddess has her game face on.  Son’s being, well, Son.

But we aren’t complaining.  Six months will go by quick.  Especially compared to the neighbors, who, all being Army, are gone for fifteen months.  So we’re keeping it in perspective.

Besides, we’ve been apart longer than six months.  Goddess is a trooper - I was gone for the nine months leading up to the wedding.  While she was dealing with caterers, photographers, invitations and the like, I was sunning, surfing, fishing, snorkeling and partying on the beach in Western Australia.  I showed up four days before the wedding.

Why she took me, I don’t know.  ;0)

I’ll still be running while I’m there, figuring I’m building a hell of a running base for next year’s tri season.

Matter of fact, I’ll turn 40 while I’m there, so I’m going to do the run-focus of Roman’s B-Fit B-Day challenge, shooting for Gold and running 40 on my 40th.  I’ll have to start right after midnight and hopefully finish before mid-morning before it gets too hot.

I’ll post when I can (and when there’s something to post about).  Perhaps a few pictures too.

In the meantime, keep writing those race reports.

Take care,

Bill

I had to laugh at this one.  I get this question a lot, especially by the folks at work that try to wrap their brains around running for three hours, riding for six, or swimming for two (not that I’ve done the last two this year, but it’s happened).

I don’t wear headphones.  I don’t listen to music.

Except what’s playing on mental radio.

I agree with Frazz.  I’ve got to hear what’s going on around me.  And music is too much of a distraction.

Every time I run a race, I am reminded of why it’s a good idea to not wear headphones.  Little islands unto themselves, runners with headphones take hard right turns with no warning so they can get a cup of water or get to the curb to tie their shoe.  They cross center lines on the (open) road, not hearing the car on the other side, just so they can jog with a bit more space (even loud screams couldn’t get this guy’s attention).

I understand the desire to distract oneself from the discomfort and pain.  I do wear them when I’m on a dreadmill or trainer.  But never outside.

I must be one of the old diehards that this NY Times article is referring to.

Apparently they blew the tornado sirens last night.  We didn’t hear them, but the very close lightning strikes kept waking us up.  Plus, we’re dog-sitting another greyhound, so the two of them were skittish last night, which made it hard to sleep.

The alarm went off (way too early) and we were on the road to another race bright and early.  Luckily it was a local race, so we didn’t have to drive too much.

Which turned out to be a good thing.

We got to packet pickup and they wanted picture ID.  At that point I realized that I had left my wallet at home.  So Goddess drove like the devil and got us back to the house.  We made it back to the race site with 15 minutes to spare.

Wouldn’t you know it - they didn’t ask for ID this time.

Anyway, we were there for the inaugural Clarksville Duathlon - 2 mi run/13 mi bike/2 mi run.

A last minute addition to the race schedule.  After the Country Music Marathon expo, we stopped by our local running store so I could pick up a few more pair of Injinji (did I mention that I love those socks?).  They handed us the flier to the duathlon, which I posted on the fridge, mostly as a gee-whiz.

On Tuesday, three days after the marathon, I hopped on my Softride for a spin to work out the legs.  It was the first time I threw my leg over it since my IM-distance race last September.  That turned out to be a good ride.  I was surprised how good it felt.  So I punted and entered the race.

Then talked Goddess into doing it too.

I’m a bastard.

Fast forward to today.  You already know about the storms and ID snafu.  We hoped that would be the last (but it wasn’t).

The race started about 20 minutes late, but that’s fine.  It turned out the RD had to be pulled away for some reason.  Besides, the race was held at one of our favorite locations in town, the Beachaven Winery.  The stand-in RD mentioned that we were lucky to have been able to start due to the weather.  She stated that a tornado had gone through the south side of town (unverified, since it’s not on the National Weather Service storm report page).

Anyway, a few words and then the start horn went off.  My intent was to go as hard as I could, pushing it through the whole course.  I told Goddess that I hoped to be choking back bile when I finished.  But I also knew that I had to pace myself.

The two mile run went well, averaging 7:08 miles.  Not too hard, but hard enough, setting me up for the bike.

A quick transition and we were out on the road.  Again, knowing I needed to pace myself, I pushed, but not too hard.  Lots of folks went flying by, but I knew I’d see them again.  Two miles in and I started reeling them back, averaging 21mph.  Those that started too hard were already starting to fall back.

At just past three miles, the clusterf*ck began.  Apparently the RD decided to throw in a hard right turn, but didn’t station anyone there.  There might have been a mark on the road, but there are so many rides through that area year round that you couldn’t tell.  So at least half of the field flew right past it.  The realization came a couple of miles later when we approached the transition area.

One of the course workers was quite apologetic and redirected us.  No big deal, it was just going to add a couple of miles to the ride.  But the lead female was in the group and understandably upset.  So we followed the directions that the worker gave us.  Wouldn’t you know it, they were wrong.   A few miles later we ended up back at the transition area, having made another loop.

At that point, the group decided that they were just going to go out and make it a training ride.  I decided to run.  So I got 9.1 miles out of the scheduled 13 miles on the bike.

The last run leg was a bit slower.  I pushed it hard, but ended up averaging 7:44 miles.

As I finished my run, the rest of the group that was lost ended up rolling back in.  Some ran, some didn’t.  I watched as a couple of other riders came from the opposite direction, apparently having missed another turn somewhere and ended up riding towards downtown.  Some just bagged the run after their fiasco of a ride.

I was worried about Goddess, but it turns out she managed to find her way around the entire course.  Turns out that they had phoned the guy at the turn before the right-hander that we missed and he told her to make sure she turned at the next intersection.  Information that would have been good to know for the rest of us!

I joined Goddess on the run, pacing her from light post to light post.  She’s a good egg.  She came in dead last overall, smiling the whole way and still grabbed a third place AG medal.  My Goddess had a podium finish!

So although the bike course was poorly marked and poorly controlled, we still had a good time.  The best part was that the race fees went to the local YMCA.

I did manage to achieve my goal, which was to push as hard as I could (although I didn’t have to choke back the bile).  Of the 1:02:22 I raced, I was deep into Zone 5 for 51 minutes.  Minus the three minutes total that I spent in T1 and T2, that meant that I wasn’t in Zone 5 for only 8 minutes.

It was good to get back on the bike.  I was impressed that I was able to put as much power as I did to the pedals considering I hadn’t ridden in seven months.  Too bad it’ll be another seven months before I have a chance to ride it again.

That was my first du ever.  And it was a lot of fun.  I’ll look to do more in the future.

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.

“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:

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.

4:29:47, a new PR by 56:49!

Race report later.

Been a crazy week.

After last weekend’s long run and some other stuff, it was a week out on the east coast.  It was nice to run with the ocean breeze in my face as it warmed up through the week.  It’s taper time, so the runs were short (5-7 miles), but the pace was brisk.  Especially one evening when I was 3 miles from the hotel and realized that I had to get back to the room, shower and drive across town to meet folks for dinner - in 30 minutes.

I made it.

Midway through the week, Goddess got ahold of me.  Horrible news.  The husband of her bridesmaid, who just turned 31, didn’t wake up Wednesday morning, passing sometime overnight.  Apparently it was a congenital heart issue, although you’d never know it.  He was a healthy man.  Left behind a wife and two daughters, aged 5 and 3.  A bit of scrambling and we worked out travel arrangments for Goddess to get out to Colorado.

Unfortunately she landed less than two hours after the funeral.

But we got her out there.

A bit of shuffling to get Skinny a sitter for the weekend, since we had already made plans to be out of town.  So after dropping Goddess off at the airport, I drove Son and two of his friends north to Louisville.  We were off to see Gigantour, which we had been looking forward to since January.  The lineup was High on Fire (meh) Job For a Cowboy (meh), Children of Bodom (excellent), In Flames (good) and Megadeth (great).

I  didn’t enjoy it as much as I was hoping, mainly because I was worried about Goddess traveling (although she has traveled halfway across the world by herself), about her friend, her friend’s girls and the emotional trauma that I could only imagine that they were all going through (or about to in Goddess’ case).

But the show went on for six hours, which is about 30 minutes past the limit my ears (as well as Son and his friends) can take.  Even with earplugs.  Shame too, since that happened during Megadeth, who I’ve followed since the mid-80’s.  I was jazzed since this was the first time I’ve been able to catch them live.

And what was a first in the hundreds of concerts that I’ve been to over the past 25 years - the concert was paused for safety.  During Children of Bodom’s set, the crowd surged forward hard enough to break the barrier.  They cut the power to the stage and Bodom left for 30 minutes, giving the crew enough time to fix the barrier.  I was sitting up in the stands at that point so I had a pretty good view of everything.  Son was down in the crowd and immediately texted “WTF?”, so I talked him through it.

We got back to the hotel at 1230am.  Much to their chagrin, I woke them up at 700am.  Nothing like trying to wake three 16 year old’s up after only six hours of sleep.  But we had to get on the road so I could get back and spend the rest of the day writing a paper for school.

Joy.

Marathon in 5.5 days.

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.

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…