Thursday, December 10, 2015


After my heroic accumulation of mileage Tuesday and Wednesday, all came to a stop. I joined my daughter who’s husband is out of town, to care for her 2-year old. 

Laughing replaced running for me. My granddaughter did the running on very short legs. From the back, she's a tiny copy of her grandpa, a  linebacker, broad shouldered and fast.

However, she stops in the middle of a run to give her doll a little bottle. Funny she’s so fixed on bottle-feeding her “baby” because she was a nursed baby. 

Anyway, I did NOTHING for five days, right in the middle of marathon training. My back hurt and my knee pained me. Unusual for me, I struggled and groaned getting to a standing position from the floor where I spent lots of time with a 2-year-old. 

Got home Monday night, rolled on the rumble roller. It hurt. Spent an hour at the gym stretching. Went to bed in pain.

Got up 5;30 a.m. Tuesday in a dreadful mood. Held on to my back as I went out the door to run. Met my fast friend, Evie  pulled me along for 14 miles. Said “Bye” to her and added  7 miles to reach my goal of twenty-one miles. 

Wednesday, I ran 8 miles around a dirt track, fast as I could. 

NOTHING HURTS. Talk about counter-intuitive! By the way, I am not here to explain why running way too much on a aching back and bad knee results in the disappearance of pain. I’m not recommending running twenty-one miles to everyone. 

You never know where writing takes you and I didn’t start this to say the following BUT—I do think the human body is made to move in a natural fashion. Not necessarily running long distance, but brisk walking, mixed with some comfortably-paced running. 

I’ll put lots of money on this wager: If everyone did a comfortable walk/run six days a week, there would be less heart disease, diabetes, cancer, arthritis, colds, depression. 

I just betcha.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

GOOD KNEE/BAD KNEE: Who can predict?

Just completed 20-mile-run in preparation for the Carlsbad Marathon in January. I’ve added one mile a week, starting with 14 miles in October.

Here’s an example of the weirdness of training for distance running: 

I have a bad left knee. Without my friend, Evie’s enthusiasm, I would not have signed on for this marathon. 

One minute, I doubt my sanity and the next, I’m euphoric. Yesterday, I ran sixteen horrifying, painful, gimpy, tortuous miles. My knee hurt and I had a back-attack. The knee is always there, but the back is something new.

In any case, I came home, stretched, rolled and slept all night. Woke up to a sore knee and slight back ache. I NEVER EVER get out of bed hurting, but today I did.

I will be out-of-town and unable to run through Sunday so I had to get one more long run in today. Getting up with aches and pains, I almost tossed out the “long run idea.” Nevertheless, 
I’d promised to meet Evie.

We started out for ten miles, me exhorting her NOT to wait for me. I planned to walk, but I started out running. 

1. My knee did not hurt.

2. My back did not hurt.

3. Said “Bye,” to Evie at nine miles and completed the next eleven by myself, finishing strong. 

4. Go figure.

OK, I am not hitting the pace I have run previously because I cannot pound down on my sensitive knee. All I can work on is long mileage endurance.

It’s a thrill to observe the body and the mind adjust to training and gain ability to persevere.  



Monday, March 30, 2015

I’m sitting here, holding a clear plastic bag with a drawstring and my L.A. Marathon number inked on on the front. I can’t toss the bag because it holds some of the magic of last Sunday; waking up at 2:20 a.m., getting into Dodger Stadium in black darkness, handing this “gear bag” full of post-marathon shorts and shirt, to a guy in standing in the open door of a UPS truck and then, over five hours later, limping to pick up the bag. It’s a talisman, a souvenir, a relic.

I always keep my numbers and put them in a scrap book. Years later, I turn the page to these numbers and feel deeply attached to the wrinkled scrap. I sweated, poured water on, and ran my guts out, wearing that paper. My grit, heart, and spirit, osmosed into that paper. I’m back to race day.

With my blog readers, I’ll share LA Marathon happenings  I couldn’t or didn’t put in the Daily Pilot article you can read by googling carrie luger slayback Daily Pilot March 20, 2015. 
First, getting into Dodger Stadium at 4:00 a.m. has a nightmarish quality. The lot’s not well lit, but the marathon organizers hire a bunch of people with flashlights so there’s a human light path guiding cars and runners. Inside the stadium is pretty dark too, but getting there at 4:00 a.m., I ate my peanut butter and honey sandwich. Maybe it was early enough for some of it to digest and give me energy for the race…

If you’re an endurance athlete, you know that hours leading up to the event are all about going to the bathroom, waiting in line to get in the john. One runner I know waits in line, does her business and gets in line all over again. I went twice but that didn’t prevent me from holding it in for the last half marathon. 

Runners talk about things nobody else does. Bodily functions cannot be delicately ignored. In my case, the extra pants in the plastic gear-bag were there in case I had an accident. However, butt muscles held it in as I preserved through the last half of the marathon. Still, I was fully thrilled to find the port-o-potty at the finish.

Back to the run, I’d made up my mind to take everyone’s advice and walk through the water stops, making myself drink Gatorade which, to me, is “throw-up juice.” I expected one water stop per mile but, due to the heat, extra tables were set up randomly before the mile marker, after the mile marker, between mile markers. 

My plan was to stop ONE TIME each mile, walk and drink as much Gatorade as I could tolerate. As I said, the marathon organizers had all those extra water stops. I had a bad case of runner’s brain and lost track of whether I’d stopped that particular mile, so I probably stopped more than once a mile. I did drink the sports drink and I DID NOT HAVE LEG CRAMPS EVEN THOUGH IT WAS HOT. Was it drinking more fluids, or the compression pants and socks or simple good luck? I do not know. 

For me, to run a hot marathon, have energy all the way through and no cramping was a great gift. My marathon history—Chicago, 10-10-10, a 90 degree marathon, I cramped and walked in. Last year, LA, a hot marathon, I cramped and walked it. 

Walking in is demoralizing to me. I’m not the fastest thing out there, but I keep trying all the way through. Cramps take everything away from me. 

This time I came through the finish at 5:06 which is my slowest time ever. However I never bonked and ran the last .2 miles. Walking all those stops and the heat may have slowed me down but something gave me power when I’m usually half dead. I ran in!

That something may have been chocolate. I’m not crazy about Goo’s or Chew’s with electrolytes  and vitamins or whatever they claim. I love chocolate so I had a chocolate bar and chocolate balls. I portioned them out to have a bite every mile from Mile 10 to Mile 25. Chocolate gives me a sense of well being. Maybe that was what helped me on Mile 26.
I’m not in the mood for chocolate right now. Unusual but even a good thing can translate into “too much of a good thing.”
Finally, I did not really train for this marathon. Signed up just weeks before it, did a few 20 milers, two 18’s and one 15 and I did o.k. marathon day. Gives me confidence in my weekly work-outs. I always do hills, speed work and a distance run. YES, I ran my slowest marathon but I enjoyed it. Also I got first place in the 70-74 age group for the second year. 

With all that said, I think I’m done with L.A. for a while. Maybe when I’m 80, I’ll run it again.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

LA Marathon Tomorrow--------SIZZLE

Tomorrow is the LA Marathon.

Last time I checked, it will be 89 degrees.

THAT is my definition of a lousy marathon.

I ran last year. Heat gave me 100-jolt-leg cramps at Mile 20 and I was forced to walk in.

Had leg cramps just one time before. Chicago 10-10-10 at 90 degrees.

SO, tomorrow.

Yeah, I'll drink that vile yellow so called electrolyte juice. I'll dilute it in water to help get it down.
Yeah, I'll take advantage of every drop of shade and cool cloth handed out.
Yeah, I'll have to moderate my pace----DAMN.

I'm not that fast anyway but I had a race plan. Now I'm flummoxed. At the Expo yesterday, some "running know-it-all" was speaking and repeating that our bodies are 14 degrees hotter than the weather. SO, that makes me 104. And that's a "really bad flu temperature" NOT a "running a marathon temperature."

My friends have been beautifully encouraging.

However, I had my visualizations all in order for the race I thought I'd be running.
Now friends are suggesting new strategies that make good sense. I really listen but somewhere in my heart, I'm having a bit of trouble making the change from a good fun but, by definition tough race----to a steaming, suffering, slow compromise.