WHO WANTS TO BET ME?

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.

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.  

PLEASE SEE MY DAILY PILOT ARTICLE “FITNESS FILES” FOR 12/4/15 for more on race. 

#CarrieLugerSlayback#FitnessFiles#MastersMarathons#running

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.

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.

PAINFUL TO PAIN-FREE

Giving a party, cleaning up the yard, planting where there’s dirt, buying margarita mix, buying tequila, cleaning up the house, buying more margarita mix, supplementing the tequila, cleaning up the side yard, ordering to the taco wagon—-ETC.

Well, I didn’t set foot in the gym for a few weeks. I kept on running, hiking, walking but I hurt all over. Mainly my back hurt, my butt hurt when I sat, my knees creaked, my wrist was more painful than usual. 

“I’M A MESS,” I told my husband. 

I’m usually the healthy one in the family. I’m always pain-free. But I wasn’t. 

Party’s happened, loved the evening. 

Post party, I’m back to the gym about five days out of seven.

Stiff as a board my first time, I could barely touch my toes. 

Ouch! ouch! ouch!!! I said as I tried the a runner’s lunge.

I usually bench press forty pounds, two sets of 15. Had to drop down to twelve.

Hey, I’m acting my age, seventy, I said to myself. 

After two weeks at the gym, I can lift, have added reps, CAN BEND, and here’s the biggest eye-opener: NOTHING HURTS.

Somehow, that old combination of weights and stretching breaks up the pain spots.

My back doesn’t hurt when I wake up! 

So, all those people on pills, those 70-year-olds with rheumatism, those arthritis sufferers who take pain relievers all  day—————Do you think there’s a chance they could solve some of the hurting without medication? 

Could showing up at the gym for a stretch and some weight training, take them to the next level of painless existence?

I think so.

WINDING D--O--W--NNNNN

Like a wind-up doll that slowly de-animates, my mileage since the L A Marathon in March has gone from 50-mile-weeks to 40-mile-weeks to 20-mile-weeks.

My friend Jill says, “Life intrudes when you’re not training for anything.” 

So, it hasn’t been all laziness that subtracted miles, but a new granddaughter and some long-term real estate matters that have taken me away, not to mention a few social events.

So, three months coming off lots of mileage, what’s that do to a runner?

For one thing, no more 50-mile-weeks for me.  

My fastest marathon in ’07 happened when my mileage was so low, I almost didn’t sign up. That was back when Bill Sumner coached new marathoners and I’d done only ONE 18-mile run. Before Sumner, I did lots of 20-mile-Saturdays to prepare for a marathon. Surprising myself with the results of Bill’s low-mileage program, I qualified for Boston. 

SO, low mileage worked that time.  

After L.A’s preparation including weeks of 50 miles, I had shin splints and was sick of running. 

I should have been excited about running because I took first place in my age-group and realized a dare I’d given myself publicly. 

I wrote about trying for a first and described my year of training in the Daily Pilot Newspaper.

As I said, I felt unmotivated and sore instead of triumphant. 

So, do I treat my public first place victory as the apex of my running career? 

Do I say that now that I’m 70, I’ll rest on my laurels?

Probably not. First, I still need to burn the calories. I’m a big eater and the belly is the first to bulge, followed by saddlebags and butt. 

Second, my best friendships come from huffing and puffing beside another runner, squeezing out conversation between steps. 

So, where would I find my friends if I gave up running?

Third, I’m as healthy as a 30-year-old and I can power-hike at a pace held by people 10-15 years my junior, so I’d better keep up the running.

Fourth, I like being outside. Hours spent on foot on roads, paths, beachside are the way I want to spend hours. 

My next marathon?

No plans yet. 

Will there be another?

Yep.

After the OC Half Marathon, Jill and I hung over the fence at the finishing line, cheering wildly for the 85-year-old guy finishing the full marathon in about 3 hours and 40 minutes. Running smartly after twenty-six miles—that’s 26 EIGHT-MINUTE-MILES—he looked relaxed, ready for more. 

What’s preventing us from being that fast?” I asked Jill who’ll turn 50 this year. 

Jill’s answer, lost in the noise, might have been, “Our legs, hearts, brains.”

Everyone wants to come in under four hours. I did not start marathons until I was over 50 and my fastest time is four hours, 22 minutes. 

What if I just trained harder?…

And there’s the problem—something called overtraining. 

Last week’s blog, I doubted my ability to run Sunday’s O.C. Half Marathon, explored staying home to rest my shin splints, didn’t even mention reoccurrence of my old knee pain. 

Did I overtrain, chasing that elusive goal of a fast marathon time for LA, exhaust myself, putting me out of the running for the OC Half? Maybe. 

The fastest marathon runners I know put in 50-mile-marathon-training weeks. 

Leading up to L.A., I copied them.  I liked the mileage, slow, and away from life’s obligations. People knew I was training and left me to my mania. In past marathons, sore muscles disappeared a few days post-race. After L.A. my shins stayed sore for weeks. Maybe I overtrained.    

Of course I also wrote my self doubts about whether I should race the OC Half with shinsplints, and moaned to my daughter about my depression over 12-minute-miles. 

“That’s the wrong attitude,” she said. “Forget finish time. Run and have fun.” 

“Great idea,” I said because it’s best to agree with my daughter.

“Baloney,” I thought. Have fun hobbling about? Protect my legs instead of give it my all? No fun.

In the meantime, I took the week off. 

Along the way, my shin splints disappeared, my knees repaired. Race day, I showed up, a changed women in legs and head. My legs liked the resting week. 

My brains are in my legs apparently because I ran the OC Marathon without a care. Didn’t run with a pace group, didn’t try for any special time and enjoyed the sensations of moving through the course with fellow runners.

The result: First Place, Females 70-74, time  2 hours 8 minutes. Eight minutes slower than usual but who cares. 

Now about that overtraining…This spring it got me first place in the LA Marathon and in the OC Half Marathon. AND, I have fifteen years to turn 85 and speed up as much as that champion 85-year-old who came in under 4 hours. Maybe I'll keep on overtraining.

Maybe I won't.