Just Keep Attacking Life's Hills ... Real And Imagined

Day 59 -- Oct. 9, 2012

Today I'm 192 pounds of rolling thunder.

Yesterday was a great day out on the road. I made my normal long loop of 6.5 miles of hills and semi-hills with only stops for stop lights. There was no walking, just running, or what sufficed as running. It was at least one grade above a walk.

The day was brilliant with a bright sun and blue skies overhead. There was a hint of autumn's chill in the air, but with a jacket and some ear covers the conditions were just right for a run around the neighborhood.

I can tell my attitude has changed about how I approach my runs. It's very similar to the transformation I felt on the bike a few years ago. I've always liked going out for my runs. They provide relief from the stress of the day and give your body that familiar ache of an athlete.

Hills are now something to be dealt with instead of walk stops along the path. My lungs no longer give out and I can feel my hips yelling at me to stop but I'm able to overcome their pleas for help.

It's good to see progress. I'm not sure what the magic trick has been. For about two years I've slogged through my routine of run/walk/run, but in the past three or so weeks that all has changed. I still don't have great speed and probably never will. But I'm making the loops without stops or at least minimal stops.

In my mind, I've already stretched my long run out to more than an hour and a half. Now I just need to give myself permission to push on to a two-mile run.

At this point, guilt is my biggest adversary. As a job-seeker and contract writer/editor, time spent away from the computer can be guilt time. For nearly two decades I've built at least an hour a day of physical activity into my regimen. But being self-employed puts things in a new light. Or an old light when you think of it in terms of "if you don't work, you don't eat."

So I enjoy my runs as much as I can. My hour window is spent generally guilt free and I can use my world-class rationalization skills to solve many work-related issues as I pound the pavement. I know somewhere along the miles I've grown accustomed to calling myself a work-from-home dad, and I do enjoy the benefits.

I also know that I've got to continue my quest for a full-time gig to help pay the bills. In the meantime, however, I'm going to keep attacking the hills on the road as well as in life and hopefully all will come out well in the end -- or maybe a dog will bite me and I'll end up with a giant settlement. 

Anyway, be sure to enjoy the day we've been given. And if you see the world's slowest human out running, give me a wave.

Why Did I Ever Race The Clock?

Day 50 -- Sept. 25, 2012

Today I'm 193.2 pounds of rolling thunder.

It's been a while since I raced the clock. Quite a while in fact.

One of the nice things about being the world's slowest human is never having to punch the clock.

But every once in a while I indulge my vanity and try a little test of speed. And just as often I get a punch to the gut that tells me that I'm not fooling anyone.

Nevertheless I've been running well lately with few if any breaks to walk, so I thought I'd test my mettle with a 3-mile timed run. I have a 3-mile route that is a mixture of stop lights and small hills, so timing is everything if you want to keep momentum going.

I warmed up by jogging up the hill near my house. It's a half-mile stretch that tells me where I'm at for the day. Run all the way up, and it's going to be a good day. Run/walk/run and it's OK. Run and then walk, and you're asking for trouble.

But part of the reason I start on top of the hill is to give myself a rolling start. I know downhills are tougher on ankles, knees and other joints, but so far it hasn't been an issue.

So I jogged to the top of the hill and took it as an omen that it was going to be a good day out on the road. I stopped at the corner to stretch and loosen my muscles, which, by the way, are genetically hard-wired to be tight as piano wire.

It was a mild yet humid day, so sweat came easy as I punched my wrist watch and started down the mile-long descent to the first turn. And even though you say time doesn't matter, just once it would be nice to look down at the half-mile or mile marker and be surprised by the number staring back at you.

There was no surprise at the half-mile mark. The number on my watch was large and getting larger.

I made the mile turn in a time that could as easily have been measured on a sun dial as on a digital wrist watch. Ouch! But I was still running. No walks.

I rounded the corner and began the second mile, which is filled with rolling hills and a single stop light. A long stop light, but the only one along the way. Catch it just right and you can maintain momentum from the hill you're on as you ascend the next one. Miss it, and it's a long wait for green.

I figured I'd be OK if I was only a minute slower in the second mile -- not proud, but OK. So moral victory No. 2 was making the second mile with all its hills without walking and only a minute slower than the downhill mile at the start of the run.

I turned the corner and headed for home. A half-mile downhill followed by a long flat (with two lights) and then a gradual ascent to the finish. I saw a walker in the distance so I pushed to try and catch her. I made the stop light and passed the walker on the flat.

I made the second light with little delay and rolled up the final climb. My time was horrible, but I had gone the distance without a walk or much of a pause. Victory was in the doing and not in the time was my rationalization, and I'm sticking to it.

So the next time you see the world's slowest human out on the streets, give me a wave.

Call Me A Biorhythm Believer

Day 40, Sept. 17, 2012

Today I'm 192 pounds of rolling thunder.

Either that or my digital scale is stuck at 192, and I'm just a random amount of rolling whatever, but we'll go with thunder for argument's sake.

So today was a long run day, and the weather was cooperating when I hit the pavement for my 6.5-mile jaunt. 

The first hill is normally an indicator of how the day will go. It's about a half-mile from bottom to top, so if I start sucking wind in the first 100 yards, I pretty much know it's going to be one of those days.

You don't hear people talking as much about biorhythms as you did some years ago. The theory being that your body has physical highs and low on a relatively regular cycle.

I guess I fall into the camp of believers. There's just times when my lungs move easier and my heart keeps beat without as much stress.

And while this belief is purely anecdotal on my part, I'm going with it. I think there are times when we all perform better than others. But I'll admit to a certain amount of serendipity to my biorhythms. I definitely have never tried to chart my ups and downs.

Today was an up. I felt good from the moment I stepped out of the door and started off on a trot to the moment I got halfway up the first hill. But my breathing was easy, so I got my mind around the task at hand and made it the rest of the way up the hill.

I completed the long rise that came next without issue and started in on the next big hill. I made it to the top of hill No. 2, which is shorter, but steeper than the first. It's always an accomplishment for me to make it up this hill without walking, and it felt especially good today to cruise down the back side even picking up my pace as I continued down the hill.

Boy those biorhythms must have been peaking because I made a few stoplight stops but didn't really walk until I got halfway up my nemesis hill. But even that one only got the best of me a few times.

And the hill in the sixth mile took some of the snap out of my legs, but I managed to only walk for two short bursts. Then I charged down the final hill and called it a day.

Tomorrow is another day, so we'll see how that one treats me. But if you see the world's slowest human, remember to wave at me.

Dad's Runnin' On Empty

 

Day 32-33 -- Sept. 8&9

Today, I'm 193.4 pounds of rolling thunder.

Probably more like rolling Jell-O. But rolling is the operative word.

Yesterday was a sandwich fun, meaning I had to sandwich 45 minutes on the road between two halves of my work day. 

The sandwich part was the difficult part. The hard part was getting going on about five hours of sleep. Nothing like having zero in the tank when you head out on the road.

So just how did I end up on the wrong end of the gas gauge before my run? Simple math. You add a work day that ended after midnight with an early morning drop-off for our ambitious cross country runners and the result is dad running on empty.

 But that's OK. It was a fantastic day for cross country racing. The day broke cool after a cold front pushed through the area and dropped some needed rain on Friday afternoon.

The skies were clear on race day and by starting time the temperatures were mild with a light breeze. The undulating hills of the Topeka West course would provide a nice challenge.

We came to the event with two thoughts in mind. One, how fast could our older son go? And second, could we coax a sub-30-minute 5K out our younger son who seemed to have a running resurgence after nearly quitting the team earlier in the week.

In the end, it was a good day all around. The older lad made his run in less than 20 minutes for the first time this season, and he earned a cross country medal for the first time in his career. It was a great effort. You can tell he's stronger than a year ago when such a feat would have left him nearly passing out at the finish line.

Perhaps our biggest concern on the day was how our younger son would fare after pulling out of his last race and nearly quitting the team. 

But our concerns, at least on this day, were unfounded. He ran a personal best and came within six seconds of going under 30 seconds. In case anyone is wondering, that's a 9:41 mile pace, which may not be blistering, but as the world's slowest human I can greatly appreciate the effort and applaud him for getting back on his competitive horse and running the race.

Next week's race is on an even faster track where many people set their personal bests. With another week of good training and more fine weather for race day, who knows? Knowing it's a fast track and he's on the brink of a personal running milestone should give him some added motivation to do well.

As for me, I'm still the world's slowest human, just a little more fatigued than normal. So if you see me plodding along at an even slower than normal pace, give me a wave.

Hello to an old friend

Day 31 -- Sept. 7, 2012

Today I'm 193.6 pounds of rolling thunder -- and I miss my snowman.

While it's Friday for the rest of the world, in my odd universe of working nights and weekends as a contract writer/editor it's somewhere between Tuesday and Wednesday. In this new normal, you work when you can and work on finding work when you're not working.

But when it's run time, it's run time. That's the plus side of this schedule. Nearly every day I find 45 minutes to two hours of sanctuary by hitting the streets or the spin bike and lose myself in my thoughts. 

Yesterday was a good day for a run. Warm with a slight breeze to take the heat off. 

So I decided to switch things up a bit. It's been more than a year since I had done the loop I chose for the day. I used to make this run after dropping our younger son off at middle school. It made for a nice hour to an hour and half jaunt through a beautiful adjacent neighborhood.

On this day, I left the house and made my way past the middle school. Wow, a mile down and no stops. Good boy. 

I managed to make it up the long, slow steady rise in the next mile and then down the twisting descent to the corner where kids were out on the playground at the preschool enjoying a warm late-summer day. Ahead was a long flat and then a dip over a bubbling creek and then up a short, steep hill.

It had been some time since I'd done any of this without my normal run/walk/run routine. And to be honest, it had become mostly a walk the hills and run the descents affair.

So as I crossed the creek and eyed the hill I was determined not to stop. I carried as much momentum as possible into the climb and tried to keep a steady pace.

Step by step I climbed the hill. My quads were burning. Sweat was pouring. And I was panting.

But I made no excuses. I dug in and crested the hill and turned the corner.

I don't really remember when I walked after that. It didn't matter. I had mastered a hill that I hadn't had success with in a long time. The rest of the run was gravy.

I enjoy this route. The tree-lined lanes take me past million-dollar mansions and well-manicured golf courses. It's quiet and alive all at the same time.

I rolled back into home base feeling good about the run and the day ahead. I was reminded how good it is to see an old friend like this route that I had forgotten but had now reacquainted myself with.

Who knows what today will bring. One thing is for sure, I'm still the world's slowest human.

Isaac Provides A Good Soaking

Day 25 -- Sept. 1, 2012

Today I'm 191.6 pounds of rolling thunder.

At least I was at 6 a.m. when I got up to take the boys to their first cross country meet of the season.

Note to self, cross country coach always sends emails late. 

So it's 6:30 and I'm checking the emails as what's left of Hurricane Isaac continues to dump rain on our neighborhood. What started as bands of drizzle about midday on Friday slowly became a steady, calm rain by late in the afternoon, and it stuck around all night.

It appears to be a real drought-breaker, but it's been so long since we've had this much rain I can't tell.

Yesterday I laced up my running shoes and took on Isaac. Well, I took on the drizzle of what was left of Isaac when it came into town.

There are certain things that are great in athletics. Football practice in the mud. The sun shining down on you on a cool morning out on a bike. And call me a fool, but a good run in a warm rain is always enjoyable to me.

 

So even though my running window was limited by work and a desire to go watch my children in the Lancer Day parade, I chose to embrace Isaac and take the long way home.

Friday was my long day so I felt obligated to run my 6.5-mile route. The start of the day was much like the day before. I slogged up the first hill in my run/walk/run manner. And I even made a decent charge to the midway mark of the second.

Maybe it was the magic of Isaac or some unknown fitness kicking in, but my only stops the rest of the way were to wait out stoplights. I climbed the last two long hills and all the rollers without a walk.

When I got home, I was soaking wet. My running shoes had turned my socks a particularly nice shade of burgundy. But the warmth of the day and the refreshing drops of a long-awaited rain made the soaking all worthwhile -- plus, my running shoes really needed a washing. The summer sweat had granted them a personality all their own.

So we carbo-loaded on pizza and got the boys down early -- early for teenagers. 

When the alarm rang at 6:30 a.m. it felt like just minutes had gone by since I shut my eyes. I thought to myself, there's no way they'd cancel a cross country meet if there wasn't lightning.

How wrong a dad can be? After checking emails for 20 minutes, I gave up and started getting ready only to hear from the other room that the cancellation email had arrived.

So much for planning, but thanks so much to Isaac for a good soaking.

Looks like Isaac is sticking around for another day, so if you see the world's slowest human getting a good soaking today, give me a wave.

Today it's steak knives and Lancer Day

Day 24 -- Aug. 31, 2012

Today I'm 193.4 pounds of rolling thunder. 

I've got to give a tip of the hat to the Runner's World butt kick of the day. 

"With ordinary talent and extraordinary perseverance, all things are attainable." 

-- Sir Thomas Foxwell Buxton, British philanthropist and politician

I'm not sure about all things, but many, many, many things are attainable if you have the ability to just keep your focus. Sometimes it's just a matter of outlasting and out-wanting your opponent.

Today is Lancer Day for the boys' school. On one level it's an excuse to escape the bonds of school an hour early on the Friday before Labor Day, and on another it's a great way to build camaraderie in the ranks as the teams and clubs join in a big parade.

Sometimes, it's all about the try. Tomorrow we'll find out how far our two intrepid runners have come in their careers. It's the first meet of the year and often times a scorcher. This year, however, Isaac promises to drop some much-needed rain in the area and hopefully keep the temperatures mild.

Last year, our older son ran 21:33.6 for the 5K on a fairly warm day on a mostly flat track. This is a 5-minute improvement over his time as a freshman two years earlier. Our younger son got his first taste of running competition and finished in more than 30 minutes. 

A year ago, the fastest junior varsity runner on the team finished the course in 19:31. While that's a lot of our older son to chop off from his 20:01 in last week's time trial, it's a within that attainable window. At least it's within the range of setting as a reasonable goal.

As parents we're glad that they're out there moving and having fun with their friends. Knocking down times is fun, but learning the passion for a life-long sport that will keep them fit, healthy and help relieve stress is the most important thing.

Our older son is definitely wired to set goals and obtain them. Although he may never admit it, earning his way into the top 20 on the team is a big deal. Beating down his times will be icing on the cake.

Oh, my run yesterday? Nothing special, except I found two steak knives along the side of the road. Who loses steak knives? Who runs with steak knives? Not me.

I just pound the pavement and pray for rain. Or listen to the radio to find out how bad the local teams will be this year.

It's Friday, so if you catch the slowest human out wrestling with Isaac in the rain today, give me a wave.

 

I Don't Need A Stinking Odometer

Day 23 -- Aug. 30, 2012

Today I'm 193 pounds of rolling thunder.

Sometimes a run is a run is a run. It's like when bikers go out and pile on miles just to say they've gone out for the day. Enjoyable? No. Necessary? Maybe. But at the end of the summer their little plastic odometers read 3,000 or 5,000 or 10,000 miles.

Maybe that's just one of those goals I was talking about yesterday. Maybe that's the kind of low-key motivator we all need floating in the back of our head to remind us that we need to get out and put in the miles.

I'd like to think my running was more of a matter of routine than goal setting. I've never really logged the miles. It didn't seem all that important. The time on the road and the process of being able to think through challenges and problems through the flap, flap, flap of running shoes on pavement seemed to be more important than keeping score.

Besides, there wasn't a day gone by that I didn't see someone out on the road that I didn't feel those pangs of guilt about not being out there grinding through the miles.

But the one thing about running, unlike biking I can roll through an hour out on the road and feel the same amount of conditioning that it would have taken me three or four hours to achieve on a bike. Now biking is still great, but when you're limited on time, a good 45-minute run can be a lot easier to work in than a three-hour bike ride.

But yesterday, a run was just a run. It was supposed to be a long day but hot weather and heavy legs cut that short. I slogged up the hills on my usual long route, but my legs and lungs just didn't want to answer the call. And the heat was back up in the mid-90s, so I cut myself a break; got my 5 miles in and allowed myself the luxury of being done for the day and not worry about grinding through more miles.

I keep a running log where I write a few things down like weight and workout, but I never stress about it unless the weight number starts climbing. I've gone down the road of logging my food intake, but about all that does is restrict my eating so I don't have to write so much. Which I guess is good because you lose weight, but it's also easy to abandon.

I don't, however, have a little plastic odometer to record my running distance. It's just what I do. It's part of my routine.

So if you see the world's slowest human out in the sweltering heat today, give me a wave.

It's All About Isaac In The Long Run

Day 21

Today I'm 194.4 pounds of rolling thunder.

Of course not as thunderous as the hurricane that is currently taking aim at the Gulf Coast, but a rolling blob with ground-shaking abilities nonetheless.

Yesterday was a long day, both on the road and at the computer screen. 

I foolishly told my bosses that if anyone needed help with hurricane coverage, I was their guy. By morning there was a note, and I was in play. In play until 1 a.m.

Out on the road things were heating up. After a respite from the heat over the weekend, the burner was back on so my run was not as easy as it had been last week.

I walked and ran up the starter hill and then rounded the turn into the first downhill. Usually somewhere around this point I know if it's going to be a strong day or a weak day. If I roll down the hill with relative ease and then take the long, slow rise in the next block without trouble, I'm usually good for the day.

This time I labored through the rise but did not walk. But the big hill that followed involved considerable walking through the steep part.

I found my way fairly well through most of the first 3 miles, until I gave in to my nemesis long hill and walk/ran the rest of the way to the top. 

Usually, the 4.5-mile mark is where my legs start feeling the added distance. This is where I tell myself to push on through. I can cut the route and make a shorter day of it, but it almost always comes with a guilty feeling. 

So I pushed on allowing myself to walk on parts of the final steep hill. With the distance and the heat, I was OK with it.

By the time I logged on to start hurricane coverage the waiting game had begun. My work calls for me to help two TV stations that are directly in the path of the storm. Their editors were nervous and for good reason.

Everyone involved could remember the path of destruction that Katrina brought that way. It was sort of an eerie feeling to think that the giant storm hit the area almost seven years ago to the day that Isaac was expected to make landfall.

The good thing this time was people were taking the storm serious. They were getting their homes ready and making exit plans. Politicians both locally and nationally were focused on making things as safe as possible. 

Round one of my long day stretched well into the night as we prepared people with information about the upcoming storm. With the storm reaching hurricane status today, I'm sure my working long run will take on additional urgency but again stretch into the night.

So today, if you see a rather sleepy looking slowest human making the rounds, give me a wave -- and some caffeine.