So I dig the Doors. Sue me. Actually, my friend Trey’s mom probably should after one too many times of me knocking down her porch railing after one (or twelve) too many beers and an ill-staged recitation of “I am the lizard king…”
OK, business first:
Primary marathon looks like it’s back to being Mystic Places. My little brother, who is well on his way to kicking my butt in the grand game of life, and his lovely wife are heading up. I’ve missed out on riding the MS150 with him, and cannot pass up the chance to run with him. Plus, he’s done Austin a couple of times, so he’ll be able to talk me past the dreaded “Wall”
I am going to still plan on running New York. Two weeks recovery – I’ll run Niantic as a long run in preparation for New York. A really, really long run, and hopefully a fast long run.
I’m missing the Bastille Day triathlon – it’s the wife’s office picnic, complete with “New England Clambake”. Which, in true New England fashion, is more about lobster than clams. But they can’t just come out and call it a lobster bake, just like it’d make too much sense to put in a real road between New London and Hartford.
New shoes in a couple of weeks. I’m taking recommendations. I’ve been beating a pair of ASICS Gel Cumulus VI’s since January. I’ve really liked the line in the past, and the Cumulus VII’s look fly. But I’m kind of on the fence, since Roadrunner Sport’s Shoedog doesn’t recommend the Cumulus for me any more. The GC holds a special place in my heart, since it was the first “real” running shoe I ever bought, way back in OCS (or at least it’s what sticks in my head as the first).
Last year, I went through a couple of pairs of New Balance 833’s and really liked them. What I really kind of want is for ASICS to start making the Gel Verdicts again, but I think that I may have been the only guy in the country who liked the shoe. Absent the clouds opening up and heavenly choirs of angles recommending something different, I think I’m going with the GCVII’s, since it looks like they’ve gone kind of minimalist with them.
I’m using the plan out of The Runner’s Training Diary. The book has helped me, and the plan seems pretty reasonable. It’s kind of funny, but looking at it now, the first couple of weeks seem, well, kind of light. Which is OK, I guess, since I’m planning on continuing to bike and swim on top of the running mileage. Overtraining scares the crap out of me – I’m a wuss, and the last thing I need is some sort of injury to give me an out.
Anyway, this week starts out with 20 miles of base –
Monday – Rest (woo hoo! Got that one licked)
Tuesday – 3 miles
Wednesday – 4 miles
Thursday – 4 miles (may only do 3.1 here, with a little biking and swimming on the side – ha!)
Friday – Rest
Saturday – 6 miles
Sunday – 3 miles (May shift this to Friday)
Next week is the same, ‘cept an 8 mile long run.
It should work well with the back to back – the six weeks (long run) are 30 miles (13), 40 miles (20), 35 miles (13), 40 miles (20), 35 miles (15), 26 miles (6), then Race #1 – 14 + Race. I figure I can repeat either the 26 or 30 mile week between the two races. I’ll post the full plan later.
The only logistical challenge I’m looking at is in actual execution. For the 20 milers, I’m looking at 3+ hours on already tight Saturdays. My guess is that I’ll pretty much completely give up any hope of Friday social life, hit the sack early, and be on the road in time to make sure Mrs. Jank gets her Saturday morning workouts, and I get my Saturday Morning time with the boys…
Gave blood last Thursday. Yes, it’s probably going to screw up my times on Thursday. I’ve come full circle and am really, really excited about the results from my first tri, but as much as I want to improve, I can’t really cotton being stingy with my blood. I will likely not donate again ’till after the marathons, though.
Thursday night, I was feeling kind of low – work was stressing me out, Mom Jank had flown in on Wednesday; Jake had acted out Thursday night (Dad:”OK, you can either sit inside at the table and finish your supper then come back out to the porch for dessert or you can go straight to bed” Boy:”I’ll go to bed, then” D:”OK, fine” (Takes plate, puts it in the sink) B (Realizing that D’s not bluffing): “No, I’ll eat.” D:”Sorry, you said you were done. Upstairs and PJ’s and I’ll be up to brush your teeth and tuck you in.” Grandma (Enters from offstage): “What happened? Is it time for me to give him a bath?” …) and for whatever reason, I thought I’d only done the swim/run brick on Tuesday Night. So I was stressed, and thinking I’d been undertraining. Life was not good.
Friday. Wake up, get to work early-ish. Drop by the lab to see what those folks are doing for lunch, and Christian says “Atlantic Beach Club again, and no-one’s in a hurry, so we’ll be happy to wait if you want to run.” Schwing, says I, forgetting about the blood loss the day before.
The run did not start well, to put it mildly. There’s a creek cutting across the beach where the freshwater ponds drain to the ocean. It’s not especially deep in most spots, but it’s completely too wide for me to jump across without getting my feet wet. Usually, though, it’s not a problem, since I can get to a spot where it’s only a couple of inches deep – kind of like puddles next to the curb on a rainy day.
Today, however, I aimed at a different stretch of creek than usual. Launch, prepare my right foot for a quick push and landing on the left – life is good. Stride’s been feeling nice – hey, not bad on the takeoff, with some work you’ll clear this no problem by the end of the summer. Right foot hits, splash, OK now, rotate weight onto the right, and lift the left… wait, something’s not right … hey, this water’s a little deep…
(long version) Yep, planted my foot into about a 14″ hole instead of a 3-4″ shallow. Foot sinks, Newton’s first law is shown effective for objects traveling at a small fraction of the speed of light yet again – my body, in motion, tended to remain in motion until acted upon by an outside force, which in this case, was hydrodynamic drag as my right foot showed its full area to approximately 12″ of hydrostatic head. The drag on my foot pulled on the anklebone, which connected to the shin bone. In turn, my kneebone locked up, and my thigh bone, having nothing to do but continue to connect my knee bone to my sits bone decided that the good idea for the day was to continue the game of “Crack the whip”. As each successive joint up my spine through my skull continued to stretch, changing what was previously forward momentum into angluar momentum rotating about the pivot point of my ankle, my arms began to flail forward in hopes of catching my full deceleration. They were not, however, able to catch me in time, and I face planted into the miniature estuary I was trying to cross. My shoes were both soaked, through to the sock. But more importantly, my shirt was wet, and it was super humid.
Short version: Tripped in the creek, fell on my face, soaked my shirt.
With public humiliation out of the way, there wasn’t a whole lot left to do but to run, run, run, run, run. So I did. And I finished the same course as Monday, less a pint of blood, in a slightly faster time.
Got back to the ABC well before any plates were cleared. Hot diggity. Scarfed leftover fries and onion rings. Yummm… Then one of the lunch people says “Why do you just have dirt on the nipples of your shirt?” Me, being somewhat snippy, says “Because I face planted”, thinking it’s sand or something. Which would have been nice, since it was my first case of “bloody nipples” this summer.
Great run, though.
Saturday was beach day. Sunday was the 90 minute bike meander. The bike was the only time I really felt the lack of blood.
Hope everyone else is enjoying sumemr as much as I am…