P.I. and decaf

Like most people in the world who wear shoes, I put on my running shoes one foot at a time. A lot of times when you read a platitude like that, the author writes something like "I lace up my shoes." But mainly I don't. I have most of my running kicks set so that I can slide in and out of them. My Lunars and Waves work well for that type of entrance. My Cascadias do not, being much too stiff from running through water, ice, dirt, mud, brambles.... Still it is an oddly common unifier to think that we all pretty much without exception prepare to run in much the same manner.

So if the preceding paragraph made you think that this might be a slow week for writing about running, you are at least half right. But I do plan to write about events that surround running. First off: the knee.

If you'll recall last week I mentioned that my knee had a weird rash. Well, newsflash, poison ivy is still virulent in the Winter. I had scraped a vine on a river run, and hadn't even really noticed it. The line of the scrape turned into a massive split seam across my kneecap, while the rest of my knee turned into a blistered red sea. I had done some nice runs last weekend, but that all cam to a crashing halt after visiting my doctor on Monday and being put on steroids, antibiotics, antihistamines, and some salves/balms (not sure what the difference is between those last two). The knee was so bad that I'll probably have a permanent scar.

The result was that I waited out Monday and Tuesday before resuming running again. I did a couple of outdoor runs before the weather turned cold. I've spent the weekend running indoors because, while it is almost healed, I don't want fabric rubbing against the knee. So, lots of Nordic Track and biking have ensued.

What I took away from the experience was to remain vigilant about one of the most banal menaces of trail running. So often, I don't pay a lot of heed to poison ivy. I know I'm allergic, but I see it and I avoid it. But poison ivy doesn't go away. We all know it is all over the trails. And particularly in a warm Winter, it can still make its presence known.

A second 'event' that involves running (and life in general) is that I decided to eschew coffee for the foreseeable future. For me, a former coffee industry exec, this might seem incongruous. I love coffee. I am friends with many coffee company owners, US and Australian barista champions, and industry magazine publishers. But I have been thinking a lot about how I 'use' coffee in terms of dealing with each day, and for sports in particular. I found that for the past 20 years (at least), I probably have had 6-10 cups of coffee each day. That may seem extraordinary (or not), but a cup, if you measure it, really isn't a large volume of liquid. Still, though, that is quite a bit of caffeine. I used coffee to get me started each day. If it was ever unavailable, my mood was severely affected.

So how does this relate to running? Well, as I pondered a good time to slam a gel shot on a run recently, I thought, 'gee, I drink so much coffee I doubt the caffeine component of this shot (which is designed to give you a good jolt) will even be noticeable.' And on some runs, truth be told, I want a shot to be noticeable. I want a caffeinated effect.

So I went cold turkey on coffee. Strangely, the results were minimal; no headaches, not much energy loss, and only mildly lethargic at the start of the morning. I have an herbal tea, some hemp protein powder and chia in my muesli, and get on with the day. I have yet, due to the knee, to try out my theory on a long run, but I plan to do so within the next week. And please don't think I am disparaging coffee. I'm not. As I wrote, I love coffee. I am just taking a break from the sweet sweet brew to become less reliant on it, and in order to test out a running theory.

Finally, I have no swim report for the week. I didn't need to go over to the pool to know that one should not swim in a public pool with a festering, open sore. I hope to get back into the agua by the end of next week.

Until then, Happy Valentine's Day.

Chance of Snow - 50/50

Biggest snowfall of the year. It's gonna take me hours to shovel.

Before I begin, I want to wish big congratulations to all of the Trail Hawks that raced this weekend at the Rocky Raccoon 100mi and 50mi, and the White Rock Classic 33.4 mi. It is cool that you guys and gals let me hang out with you.

I had an extremely light week of running. It was light, but high quality. I did a nine miler on Sunday, 5 mi on Tuesday, 4 on Thursday, and 6 on Saturday. So 24 miles total. The best of the runs was the 5 miler with Chris Ford (see pvs posting) where we saw a bald eagle and encountered the snake. I've got a crazy rash on my right knee and running down my calf, so since I can't get to a doctor until Monday,my Sunday run (today) is going to be in the 6-ish range. I'm going to try to keep off the main roads so as not to scare little children with the weird, oozing thing on my leg.

I finished (finally) Again to Carthage and also Tobacco Road. As a follow-up to Once a Runner, Again to Carthage leaves a bit to be desired. It loses the innocence and the joy over running that the first book had. But, if you liked the characters and want to follow them a bit longer, Again to Carthage is a decent read. If a book comes out following the characters into their 40s and 50s, I'll probably buy it as well.

I had the chance to see a couple of really good movies this week. I know that everyone has been talking about Moneyball. And, after seeing it, I think they are talking about it with good reason. It is a fun, none-too-cerebral flick that addresses an issue (small market vs big market) and resolves it in a new way. I still don't understand why anyone from a small market follows baseball. World Series and league championships don't mean much when 2-4 teams buy up all the top players. What a hollow victory it must be...Yay! NY wins again! The rest of the nation yawns and doesn't care.... Sorry about that, but for me, the disparity in dollars has sullied a beautiful game.

The second movie really got to me. 50/50 is a story about confronting cancer. It has a fantastic script and is pretty seriously funny. In fact, there is one of the most uncomfortable scenes I've ever witnessed in a film that actually caused me to laugh out loud. I had to watch it again to catch everything that was said. There are poignant and tense scenes as well (as one would expect in a cancer film). But the movie is seriously smart, life-affirming, and worth watching.

Well, I'm going to be heading out the door shortly. It is a sunny, beautiful day that deserves a respectful, joyous, life-affirming run.

Odd Sight

I just wanted to have a quick mid-week post to talk about an odd sighting. On a River Trail run on Tuesday, we saw a bald eagle. But, this being Lawrence, KS, that wasn't the oddity. A few days before on a run along the same trails, I saw a full on snake skin that I assumed had blown off a tree or out of some hole. It was an odd time of year to see a snake skin - it being January, and no snakes around. But then on the Tuesday run, I was following along behind Chris Ford when I heard a rustling in the grass next to my foot. I stopped. And Chris, noticing that I had stopped, halted as well. He asked what it was, and I said it had to be a snake. A quick dig through the grass revealed a decent-sized garter snake - on Jan. 31. It was quite a shock.

So, watch where you step this Winter. Some snakes are slithering when they should be slumbering.

Running, Rafa, Nole, and More Running

I was sick last week. I had a head cold that mercifully remained in my head. While migration was mitigated, it still sucked. It was one of those colds that you can feel coming on for several days. I started taking massive amounts of vitamin C and echinacea in the ridiculous attempt to make the onset light and the duration brief. Honestly, who the heck knows if that even works, but like moths to a flame, we all do it.

As the cold was settling in, I had knocked out a 10 miler on Sunday, took Monday off, and then (with a terrific headache and stuffed nose) did 5 more on Tuesday. Wednesday I swam. Thursday I ran 4 in the a.m. and then swam in the evening. I found that swimming with a stuffed nose is really no big deal. Since I'm gulping air with my mouth during the pool crossings, a blocked sinus isn't even really noticeable. I did another swim on Friday, and then a run and swim on Sat. My weekly total was in the 23 mile range for running. Not bad with the cold thrown in. I had never really done that before. I never pushed it on a run or swim. But I did refuse to let it hold me down.

So, I awoke this a.m. at 3:30. I knew that Rafa was playing Nole in the finals of the Aussie Open at that very moment. I knew there would be a replay, but thought, why not catch a bit of the action as it happens. And that turned out to be a good choice. I spent the next 4.5 hours dozing and watching an amazing match. Djokovic has owned Nadal for the past year or so. But today, Nadal fought back with everything he had. The match became a war of attrition, punctuated by some fantastic tennis shot-making. Nole always looked in control, but he would have momentary lapses where Rafa would take advantage. What should have been a relatively easy 4 set victory for Djokovic turned into a 5 set slog and slug-fest. By the end, both players looked weary. At the awards ceremony (and this was the first time I've ever seen this), Djokovic had to keep stretching and Nadal sort of slumped on the net until some Aussie official noticed this and brought them chairs to sit on while the awards were being presented.

It was a monumental match; the longest final in a Grand Slam event ever. And both players left everything they had on the court. I do want to add a couple of editorial comments here as well.

First, it was the longest finals match ever. But let's be honest. It wouldn't have been if the umpire had made the two players follow the rules of the game and actually serve in a timely manner. Djokovic and Nadal respectively went about 50% and 75% over the allowable time between each point according to the announcers. So what that means is that we, as viewers, got to watch each of the two players stand on the baseline and bounce the ball countless times between each serve. I'm not really complaining, but why have a rule, or why even reference a rule, if it is going to be so routinely and brazenly flaunted? All mentioning the rule does, is make the viewer aware of how quickly the match should be progressing in comparison to how it actually is progressing. Not a good thing to do.

Second, there is a constant comparison of Rafa to Federer in both print and electronic media. Federer is considered to be 'one of the greats, if not the greatest.' While Rafa is considered Federer's nemesis who is better when the two meet head to head. Pundits ponder how one can be the GOAT (greatest of all time), yet have a losing record against one's contemporary. I have a couple of thoughts on that question.

Roger Federer became one of the greatest (I'm still a bit of a Rod Laver guy) players ever by winning more grand slams than any man in history, and by being better than his contemporaries while doing it. Then Rafa came along. And what happened then was that Rafa made Federer better, who in turn, made Rafa better. So the Federer who was around (and still won some grand slams) after the onset of Rafael Nadal was actually a much better player than the Federer who stomped everyone before the Spaniard entered the picture. To my mind, Roger Federer is one of the GOATs, without being the best player. He certainly was the best earlier in his career. But I would argue that he became an even better player after he had achieved GOAT status, and ceased to win everything in his path. Nadal is almost certainly a better player than Roger is now if one is to look at their head to head meetings (particularly Grand Slam events). And Djokovic may be better than both Federer and Nadal.

History will give Roger his due among the legends (Laver) of the game. His fluid, artful, beautiful play is almost indescribable. Rafa, who had Roger's number, so to speak, will also be a whole lot more than a footnote. And it looks as if Djokovic will as well. Roger might have been greater, winning more Slams, if Rafa hadn't come down the pike. But the Swiss maestro would not have become as good a player if Nadal had not been there to challenge, and yes, overtake him. And now Djokovic, the man from Serbia, may prove to be to Nadal what Nadal was to Federer.

______________________________________

Whew, OK. Enough on tennis (the cause of all my knee issues - trust me, it was not running). Speaking of running and tennis.... After watching the marathon match, I was inspired to head out for a river trail run. I normally go at a chillaxed (holy crap, did I actually just use that word?) pace, and take a shortcut at around the halfway point in order to make the run closer to 8 miles. But today, with the memory of the herculean efforts of Rafa and Djokovic, I pushed the pace and blew off the shortcut. The weather was about as perfect as it ever gets for running. There were a lot of cyclists on the trails, but I saw no other runners. I had This American Life buzzing in my ears, and sun-dappled beauty all around me. I love tennis... But I love running more. Until next week....

Sh!t Ultra-Runners Say

You need to go here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nq8lJEJr3xk

Cut and Paste....

Know When To Fold 'Em

It was a bit of a breakthrough week. Sadly not in running, although that continues on its (always upward and onward) course. It actually was a breakthrough week in the world of aquatics. I was able to knock out back-to-back days of half mile swims. Coming from someone who was huffing and puffing (and, let's be honest, drowning) at 100 yards a couple of months ago, the new distance is really smokin'.

I popped out of the house for a couple of seriously cold runs this week. Due to the temperature, I always went for 3-3.5 and no more. I just don't really groove on the whole freezing road run oeuvre like I used to. I had designs on the Hawks' long Saturday run, but again, blew it off because I was tired of the cold.

Eric and another buddy and I are headed out in about this a.m. for a white course shot out to Land's End. It was 45F at the start, and getting warmer. I think holding off for a day might have been the choice. I struggled with what to wear. Two of us opted for lighter long pants and long-sleeve tech shirts. Eric went a little warmer. On the way home, he seemed a bit flushed from the heat. I was sweating like a pig (which is a stupid thing to write, because pigs don't sweat). But I was sweating. Sweating enough that a stream of it kept rolling off the brim of my hat. Can you imagine that this is really January in Kansas? I really can't. It is crazy.

In reading, I'm making my way through the amazing, Tobacco Road. I knocked out Hollinghurst's, The Stranger's Child - I think his best work - in the interim (it was a new book with a shorter 'due date'). I hate starting one book only to interrupt it, but sometimes that is what life dictates.

Below is a picture of my newest whip. I have always wanted a folding bike, and now I have one. It is ridiculously impractical, but oh so much fun. It is the "Tokyo" by Citizen Bikes.

Coleen's Frozen Ass Run

Chris Ford and Author signing in at Coleen's Frozen Ass Run (Hawks Coleen and Gary also pictured)

It was a pretty fun week for running. It was pretty fun, but I didn't do a lot of it. In fact, prior to Friday night's Frozen Ass Run, I had knocked out a whopping 10 miles. It was warm early in the week when I did the miles. As the week progressed, I moved indoors to the bike trainer and the Nordic Track. I also managed to get a swim in every day. So I wasn't exactly shirking. I simply didn't wish to step outside and embrace the cold as much as I have in past Winters. I think the warmth has softened me somehow this season. I no longer see the romance of hearing ice crackling underfoot as I traverse a path (or parking lot). The thought of biting wind pinching at my cheeks like an over-eager aunt, also induces a wince.

But all of the coddling from this blandest of Winters ended on Friday. Chris Ford and John Hampton Tyson (more commonly referred to as simply, Jack) stopped by for a dinner of rice, beans, tortillas, and vegan cheese (in any combination they wished to use). We also drank a lot.... of water, because we were heading off to participate in a local trail runners' rite of Winter, Coleen's Frozen Ass Run. The run, a counterpart to Coleen's Sweaty Ass Run that occurs in Summer, takes place once a year in January in the countryside just on the far western edge of Olathe (I know that in your mind, dear reader, you just went O O O O lath uh, didn't you?). It commences at 8 pm, and goes until 6 am. The run is actually a series of 3-ish mile loops, through trees, fields, and around a little lake. Runners can do as many or few of these loops as they wish for the 10 hours of the run. Most runners seem to do 1-3 and then call it a night. Some of the ultra-types, training for 50K + races, stay all night, circumnavigating the course 10 or more times.

Our plan was to run it 3-5 times and call it a night. It was, after all, cold as hell. It is always a conundrum, to figure out what to wear on runs in the cold. I like to be warm enough that I don't freeze (particularly the neck, hands, and face), but cool enough that I don't sweat excessively. The three of us all had slight variations on a theme as we chose our sartorial fare. Chris dressed in a cap, some shirts, a hoodie, a Southwestern University Track Team Jacket (ummmm, a little more bling than your average race shirt), super warm long underwear, and warm long running pants. Jack wore a cap, a couple of wicking shirts (one of them long-sleeved), shorts, and two pairs of socks. I had on a couple of wicking shirts, a sweatshirt, a windbreaker, a cap, and long (yet light) running pants. As the middle dresser, I would have switched with Chris if it came right down to it, but I thought Jack was bat-shit crazy. But there were other people running in shorts as well. They didn't seem unstable, but you can never tell. It really is amazing how different runners' temperatures are. That we were all in the same location, on the same night, doing the same thing, and dressed so dis similarly, was a reminder of how unique we all are (though some really are just plain crazy).

Anyway, we took off on our first circuit. It was on the same course as the Sweaty Ass Run in the Summer, except it was run backwards. OK, hold it.... That reads weird. We did not run backwards. The race goes in opposite directions depending on the season. I mean, sheesh, we're tough. But running backwards, at night, through ice and snow is probably just a bit over our abilities. So, where was I? Ah, yes, we took off into the blackness that is outer Olathe. It actually was beautiful. The course is hilly, tree-lined, and has 3 water crossings (which were mainly, mercifully, frozen). The runners' headlamps in front and behind us looked like a current of lightning bugs meandering through the brush. We truly went over hill and down dale. Our favorite spot seemed to be where the trail actually went into a sort of light forest, with trees on either side.

Each time we finished a loop we were asked to sign in. The course officials (read Coleen), did not want to have to track someone down at 4 in the morning in the frozen tundra. The sign-in table was next to several other tables with a freaking smorgasbord of food runners would want. Fruit, cookies, salty snacks, gel packs, Heed (an electrolyte drink), etc... On each successive lap we vowed not to spend any time at the treat buffet. But every time, we seemed to linger longer.

On our fourth time around, we began to feel the effort that the run was taking. My calves started to freeze and contract. Chris was feeling it in his hips. And Jack was feeling it in both his calves and his hips (hah, take that, short-wearer). About half way through the loop, I was really unsure of my ability to finish. But then a miracle happened: Chris pulled pretzel pods encircling peanut butter out of his pocket and shared them with Jack and me. He, Chris, had grabbed a handful at the treat pile, and was willing to share. Even being handed over in his frozen, snot-covered glove, the pretzel looked appetizing. It is odd how situational sustenance becomes. On the prior lap, the three of us had shared a banana, carefully grabbing pieces that no one else had touched. On the final lap, we shared Heed (out of my frozen hand-held bottle -where ice kept forming in the cap - hey it was really coooold), and then the pretzels. And they really did make all of the difference. The little bit of energy stored in those salty snacks (probably psychologically) allowed for a burst of energy and a strong finish.

We signed out, and repaired to the lodge that served a race HQ for some hot, vegan, chili/stew. It was really wonderful. The four laps we did had gotten the endorphins flowing. Jack, a good runner, got in the longest run of his life. Chris and I had gotten in the longest cold runs (probably) of our lives - beating even the 8.5 mile knee-high snow run of ought 10 (although that run might have been a little tougher).

We ran into a ton of Hawks, Nerds, and Mud Babes. It was great to see everyone, and to meet people I had only written to and about prior to Friday.

I am so grateful to Coleen and the others who made the event such a special time again. I now have to wait about 6 months for the Summer version of the run. I have a feeling I'll be wearing shorts.

Eric "Banjo Hawk" Henry couldn't make Coleen's Frozen Ass run. But he was there in spirit.