training

Loops and Laps

Loop

A while ago, I posted about transitioning through a slump. That was successful, in part, because I slogged through multiple sets of shorts loops around a ring road in my neighbourhood. I was able to start with single, short loops, move to longer loops, and then do more and more loops. Sounds very simple, but sometimes it’s the simplest tools make things work.

Since then, I’ve kept on doing loops for my training. Sure, I regularly do out-and-back errand runs as well, but the loops are what keep me going. While doing them, it occurred to me that all of my races this year will involve doing loops. (Except I guess when you’re racing they should properly be called laps.)

I think this is very cool. Not sure why I think that, I just do.

Vision Quest?

A vision quest? Or just an enjoyable long run?

I’m being facetious, of course. I’m not into vision quests, and I won’t be attempting one anytime soon. I am, though, very much into good runs – and I’m pretty sure the Elk/Beaver 50K Ultra on May 10 will be one of those. That said, I plan to follow two strategies at the Elk/Beaver which will push the limits a bit. The first is about fueling, and the second is about gear (or lack of it).

LCHF

First, I plan to follow the low carb/high fat nutrition regime I’ve been on for the past ten months, and run the Elk/Beaver 50 fueling only with water and a bit of biltong. Second, I plan to run the full 50K trail race barefoot.

The fueling strategy isn’t as outrageous as it sounds. The LCHF thing has worked well for me, with nothing but good to show for it. I now weigh less than I did in high school forty-odd years ago, my energy levels are strong and consistent, and my health is excellent (except for the ongoing prostate cancer thing, but that’s for another post). And there’s a significant amount of evidence, both clinical and anecdotal, suggesting that LCHF can work well for endurance athletes.

Keep Calm

The running barefoot thing is a little more complex. It’s not the distance that I’m worried about. After all, I ran the Toronto Scotiabank Marathon barefoot a couple of years ago. And last summer, I ran a short trail race barefoot. It’s the Elk/Beaver’s trail surfaces, combined with the race distance, that are going to be the challenge. According to Carlos Castillo, the Elk/Beaver’s race director, each of the 10K loops of the race consists mostly of packed dirt and leaf litter, with about 200 meters of asphalt, and 2K of packed gravel. It’s the latter that worries me. I’m not looking for a PB at this one, so will be happy to roll along at a comfortable pace. There’s a cutoff time of 14 hours for all runners, so no worries, I’ll do it. But a total of 10K of gravel? Hmm…

However, based on the following short video, which Carlos Castillo very kindly shared with me, it certainly looks doable.

 

OK, so a real, honest-to-goodness vision quest it’s probably not going to be. But it will certainly be an exploration of new territory, both physically and psychologically. And it’s only fair to note that, during my very first marathon (the 1980 Labatt’s Toronto Marathon), I did see Elvis a couple of times. So who knows? At Elk/Beaver, I might just go places I’ve not been to before…

Vision quest

Patterns

Running Horse

Towards the end of every winter-into-spring training program, I always run out of steam. I think it’s mostly because I get tired of the pattern. Yes, I know it’s all very scientific and outcome-oriented, but the rhythm of a 16 or 18 week program eventually just gets tiresome. The result is turmoil, kerfufle, and frustration.

I’ve discovered that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Once I break through the slump/readjustment part of it – and discover a pattern that actually works – I’m better off. Over the years, I’ve become better able to let go of what doesn’t work, and allow something new (and more appropriate) to emerge.

And so it’s been this month.

At the beginnng of the month, I felt fine, but I couldn’t/wouldn’t run. It was a combination of four months training on the treadmill, really dreadful late-winter weather, and just plain grumpiness. At first, I thought that letting a day or two go by would break the slump, but there was no joy there. So I let another day or two go by. And then did that again. After ten days or so, I was getting desperate. So, I just plugged away. I ran the 1.5K lap around my suburban block. I ran short barefoot runs when it was far too cold to do so sensibly. I ran multiple laps of that 1.5 circuit. I went out the door, ran about 200 meters, and turned back. I ran my favourite 6K lap around my neighbourhood ring road, and hated it. I grumped, and moaned, and became less than pleasant company.

And then… breakthough. The weather changed (slightly) for the better. The 6K laps became fun again. My body came back to looseness and strength and fitness. I’d come back. And I found a new pattern.

  • Now, I run on alternate days. Well, not quite. I run on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. That means back-to-back long runs on Sundays and Mondays, which is perfectly OK when you’re training for ultras.
  • I do two runs a day, except for Sunday, when I do one longish run. That’s partly to accomodate my daily non-running life (I do have one, you know), partly about not working so hard at running that I get fatigued, and partly because it feels right.
  • On days when I don’t run, I usually go to the YMCA and have a whirlpool and a sauna. Sometimes I run to the Y on those days (it’s only a 6K round trip), and sometimes I don’t. When I do, I run very slowly.
  • I build up my distances each week. Not by any prescribed amount, just by what feels right.

It’s working very well. I’m getting my distances, I’m getting the recovery times I need, and I’m back to being a happy runner again.

And you know what? I’ve become very fond of running laps.

Getting Ready

I’ve spent the past few days putting my ducks in a row for the upcoming Elk/Beaver 50K trail ultra, which happens on May 10. Since it’s an “away” race, there’s more to preparing for it than for my usual local races. Long story short, it’s going to involve a little travel, a little visiting, and a little personal holiday time. Oh yeah – and running a barefoot 50K trail race.

Here’s how it all plays out:

1/ Fly to Vancouver;
2/ Spend a few days visiting with family;
3/ Do some “tourist running” in Vancouver (Sea Wall, here I come!);
4/ Take the ferry and bus to Victoria;
5/ Run the Elk/Beaver ultra;
6/Explore Vancouver Island for a couple of days;
7/ Fly back to Toronto.

That’s a fairly dense package, but I think it’s all going to fit together. Hope so, anyway.

Slump End

Breakthrough

Well, the slump I mentioned in my last post is over.

Kaput. Finis. Done like the proverbial toast.

As expected, all it took was a few barefoot outdoor runs. On Friday and Saturday I did a couple of short ones. They were short because the temperature was -5C, and, because I ran early in the day, the pavement was very cold. I didn’t run yesterday, when the temp went down to -19C. But today the high temp was +5C (1C with the windchill factored in), a mix of sun and cloud, and a light, 17 km/h wind. Now that’s the sort of thing I can deal with. (I am, after all, Canadian. This is mild spring weather for us.)

I just came in from a delightful run around the neighbourhood. 7.02K in 44:34, with no goal in mind except to run. Bare feet, shorts, a long-sleeve t-shirt, and shades. No hat and no gloves. The pavement didn’t feel very cold, though there were lots of icy puddles on the sidewalks. It wasn’t a long run, and it wasn’t a fast run. But it was a good run.

And it took me out of the slump. And that, believe me, is a good thing.

Slump Time

Slump

I’ve been in a running-related slump for the past ten days or so. Can’t raise the motivation to run, therefore don’t get out the door, and that just builds and builds. It’s a downward spiral, and I haven’t been able to come out of it.

Note that it’s only running related. Otherwise, I feel good, emotionally. cognitively, and physically. I’m facing some medical issues (more about them in a later post), but I don’t think they have anything to do with the slump.

For now, I’m blaming the weather. I can see spring on the near horizon, but it’s not here yet. I tell myself that, once it gets milder, I’ll be able to run barefoot on the roads, and that will make all the difference. I sure hope so.

Meanwhile, we are not amused. Not one little bit.

How It Is

I thought I’d chart “the state of the nation” for you, so there’d be no mistake.

Personal Threat Level

It’s almost the end of February. I’m in week six of a sixteen-week training program for the Elk/Beaver 50K. I’ve run on my treadmill for the past four months, and I’m feeling something akin to cabin fever. So now I’m running outside. But it’s really cold and windy, and I have to cope with icy streets and sidewalks. Sometimes I just feel old and grumpy.

All things considered, I’m doing OK.

Treadmill Love

NordicTrack A2550

It’s February. The snow in my front yard is thigh-deep and there are shoulder-high drifts at the end of my driveway. The temperature right now, with the windchill factored in, is -26C (-15F). A couple of weeks ago, the temperature got down to -38C (-34.5C). Just before that, we had a huge ice storm, which basically shut down life as we know it for a few days.

That means it’s treadmill time again!

At the top of my post is an image of my trusty ‘mill. It’s a four-year old NordicTrack A2550. There’s a nice review of it here. I bought it for about C$800, via an online sale at Sears. It’s a basic/mid-range ‘mill, and good value for what I paid for it.

I do a lot of running on the ‘mill between November and March. Five or six days a week, in fact. I’m not a cold-weather runner, and I usually have a race coming up in the early spring. So I start building my late season base on the ‘mill, and transition in late December or early January to serious training runs. Right now, I’m running about 60K a week (and ramping up steadily) for the Elk/Beaver 50K trail ultra in May.

To do that kind of thing, you’ve got to like running on the ‘mill. Many runners don’t, which I find puzzling. Here are some tips on how to get happy about running on a treadmill.

It’s different from running outside. Wishing it otherwise will only bring you grief. So accept it.

Find your groove. I run without music and without TV. I wear earplugs to muffle the sounds of the ‘mill and my big floor fan. I have two training plans (for my upcoming 50K and 100K races) on the wall in front of me, along with a print of palm trees against a tropical sky. Do whatever works best for you.

Change your pace as you go through your week. Fast, slow, hills, long, short. It’ll be better for your training, and it’ll keep you from going stir-crazy. Don’t be dreary.

Run minimalist. Barefoot if you can. If not, in as little shoe as you can. You’ll be a better runner if you do.

Use a fan – a big floor fan. You’ll be sweaty enough on the ‘mill, so you might as well make yourself as comfortable as you can. Embrace the sweat.

Setting your incline at 1% or 2% doesn’t offer any benefits, according scientific studies. Leave it at 0%. (Unless, of course, you’re doing hills. Then, do whatever is needed – hill repeats, playful hills, hard grinds. Go nuts in whatever way appeals to you.)

Do all of the above, and you may very well find that you enjoy running on a treadmill. At least while the snow, ice, and cold winds prevail. Later on, you can go outside.

Until then… more treadmill!

The Training Path

Earlier this week, I began my training program for the Elk/Beaver 50K trail ultra, which will happen on May 10. As soon as that’s done, I’ll move immediately into training for the Niagara 100K road ultra, scheduled for June 14.

That means that, after a couple of months of “just running,” with only one race (the Run4RKids 6 Hour on January 4), I’m back to following the path of training. Not the path of least resistance, but the path of training. As I said recently in a dailymile post, “Training isn’t the same as just running. Sometimes I’m happy about that, sometimes I’m not.”

The training path

The above image pretty much says it all. Despite the title of this post, where I am now is more a place than a path. No, strike that – it’s actually more a space than a place.

I’m comfortable where I am. I came out of my 2013 race season with some new PBs and a whole bunch of new experiences, and I did well at the 6 Hour event. I’m fit, I’m healthier than I’ve been for a very long time, and I’m happy. But, come May 10 – and even more so, come June 14 – I want to be where my magic happens. And that means getting down to business.

There are definitely things I like about being on a training program. At the beginning anyway, it’s easy. It’s a pleasure to start with short distances and gentle efforts. (I am, after all, a lazy man.) It helps to be able to give over some control to a structure that’s outside me, and simply do what I’m told. And, having done that, I take joy in watching my progress as I go through the days and weeks of the plan, getting stronger and more confident. I like aiming at a goal.

In the past, I’ve struggled in the latter weeks of my training plans. Most of them are 16 to 18 weeks in length, and they always become a bit of a grind near the end. But I may have a little help with that this time. About a week before the Elk/Beaver 50K, I’ll fly to Vancouver to spend some days with family before the race itself. That’ll force some flexibility into the plan to replace the usual staleness. And the couple of weeks before the Niagara 100K will, if there’s any justice at all in this world, see me enjoying warm, if not hot, summer weather. I’m always in a good and creative space when that happens.

So I’ve got 15 weeks of training before race #1, and, after that, another 5 weeks of training before race #2. In all kinds of ways, I’m looking forward to it.

Hard Work Ahead

Running 100K

100k badge

I recently registered for the Niagara 100K Ultra, which will take place on June 14, 2014. It’ll be my first attempt at running this distance, in a race or otherwise. I’m pretty sure that, barring injury or mishap, I can complete the distance. The real challenge will be to do that inside the 14 hour cutoff time.

I’m excited, of course. But I’m also aware that this will be running at an entirely new level for me. For now, the thoughts that are going ’round in my head are quite general. I’ll get into strategies later. For starters, I’m thinking pluses and not-so-pluses.

On the plus side…

I had a very positive experience running a 6 Hour ultra earlier this month. I felt remarkably good during and after the race. That bodes well.

I’ve run the Niagara route before. Twice, in fact – a 50K in 2009 and again (though DNF) in 2010. So I know the route – and I like it.

There’s a good chance of warm – or even hot – weather on race day. That’s my kind of day!

On the not-so-plus side…

I’ve never run 100K at one go before. Physically and psychologically, it’s going to be a stretch.

The 100K event comprises two loops of the 50K route. Passing the start/finish at 50K, and then heading out again, is going to be heartbreaking.

There’s a real possibility of major hurt, or even injury, in the latter stages of a 100K run. I’ll have to accept whatever comes, deal with it, and keep on moving.

That’s three for three, which isn’t bad, all things considered.

Come to think of it, there’s one more for the plus side… The turnaround point (which will come at 25K and again at 75K) is at the mighty Niagara Falls itself. Corny as it sounds, that’s always really inspiring – and I’ll get to see it twice!

Niagara Falls