21 Miles in 24 Hours

OK, so it really was like 25 hours.

Friday morning I ran 7 miles at my marathon goal pace (just over 9 minutes per mile). The run actually felt pretty good considering it followed just 4.5 hours of sleep.

I have to admit that my wife and I are TV junkies. We watch waaaay too much TV. With programming really lacking this summer, we have decided to explore a few shows we never watched. And we have our "On Demand" service to thank. Ugh, big mistake. We decided to start watching the hit show Dexter. And we were hooked instantly. Problem is that we have every episode from the first three seasons at our fingertips - available to watch whenever we want. There's no waiting from week to week for the next thrill ride, so that means if I want to stay up an hour or two later than I should to see what happens next, I can (not a good temptation to have when marathon training). And Thursday night I succumbed to the temptation. Hence the 4.5 hours of sleep.

Saturday morning rolled around and I headed to the lake for the longest run of my life so far: 14 miles. My friend Chris met me out there agreeing to suffer through at least the first 10 with me. It was cool, but really humid thanks to some thunderstorms just to our south and west. In fact, we caught a little sprinkle at the onset. The humidity was tough to battle through, as was the fact that I had run 7 miles the day before.

I did my best to listen to Hal Higdon. I still struggle with running my long runs at a slower pace than my goal marathon pace, but I did it Saturday. 9:30-9:45 miles on average. And I don't honestly think I could have pushed much harder and made it.

Chris rolled off at the 10-mile mark (I'm damn impressed he ran that long with me), so I was off on my own for the final four miles. And then I ran into a fellow Chicagoan. He spotted my Cubs hat, struck up a conversation, and although he was a White Sox fan, we talked the next three miles. A fork in our paths ended our conversation, but that was a big help for me. I had someone to talk with virtually 13 of the 14 miles I ran that morning.

As I was finishing the last mile, going further than I had ever gone before, I knew my wife and kids would be waiting for me at the end point. Lori picked up breakfast and surprised me out there with the kids. She actually found me around the 12-mile mark and asked me where to meet up. I told her where my 14-miler was ending, and she scurried on over to meet me at the finish. It was as pleasant as surprises get! Having her support has meant so much to me on this journey. And being able to see the kids when I finished was the perfect reminder why I put myself through this.

Combined Friday and Saturday, I ended up running 21 miles in a 25-hour period. No wonder why I felt the way I did after my run Saturday.

The reality of this all continues to hit me time and time again. Here I am just over 1/3 of the way through my program and I'm already running 14-mile long runs that leave me pretty much worthless for the better part of the day afterwards. That's tough to accept when the to-do list seems never-ending. Still I press on. I know it's all part of the preparation for my body to safely run 26.2 miles. And for me, with as much is at stake both personally and for the kids at St. Jude, there's no slacking off.

Today for my cross-training as I begin week 8, I did somewhat take it easy. I walked 30-minutes pushing the rugrats in the double stroller. After running 21 miles in 25 hours, I felt entitled to an easy cross-training workout. No need to push it today.

51 Beats Per Minute

That's what my resting heart rate was measured at a couple weeks ago. I definitely can't remember taking my pulse at any time in my life where it was less than 60 bpm. And quite honestly, I think most of my adult life it's been typically around 70. My running over the past three years has dropped it down to 51... less than a beat per second. My heart has clearly gotten more efficient thanks to all this endurance training, though not to the ridiculous efficiency of the likes of Lance Armstrong. The cancer survivor and Tour de France phenom has a resting heart rate in the range of 32-34 beats per minute. Think about that. His ticker only ticks around once every two seconds. Beat-Pause-Beat. Amazing!

So this week, my mileage picked up. I ran 4 miles both Monday and Wednesday while incorporating a strength workout on both days. And on Tuesday I ran 7 miles. I felt good all three days, although my right Achilles tendon felt pretty sore after my Tuesday run. Thankfully, some extra stretching did the trick, and it felt great on Wednesday.

Annoyed with running in the same rhythm time and time again (at marathon pace or slower), I decided to open it up a bit on Wednesday. So after running the first 2.7 miles at a 9:15ish pace, I turned it up a notch for the final 1.3 miles kicking in a 8:00-8:15 pace. And it felt good. Comfortable. And I wasn't winded before, during, or afterwards, which was a big confidence booster.

Today, my hamstrings were a bit sore. Most likely from a mix of picking up the pace yesterday, the strength program, and the increased mileage. Still, as always, it was a GREAT day of rest (Thou shall not train on Thursdays). Still, I'll have to make sure to stretch well before my 7-miler in the morning tomorrow. And then it's ON for 14 on Saturday. Giddyup!

"Run-ning. Run-ning." One-Third of the Way...

Now the real marathon training begins.

I've completed 6 weeks of my 18-week program. This past week was a step-back week, so my long run was shortened. Instead of doing 13 miles on Saturday, I only had to do 9. I must admit, though, I was pretty sluggish both Friday and Saturday, even after the day off on Thursday. The run Friday morning felt pretty good and I came in exactly on a 9:09 pace for 6 miles. Saturday's run was a bit slower, as it should've been. The 9-miler felt pretty good. I did it out at Creve Coeur Lake and took my time. No pressure. Just a nice easy run. I opted to sleep in and get a very rare 8 hours of sleep. With high temps only hitting 71 degrees on a Saturday in mid-July in St. Louis, I figured, why not sleep in? There was no reason to get up early and beat the sun. So I encountered a lot more people enjoying the rare, cool St. Louis summer weather. It was cool to see so many people out getting some exercise.

I witnessed a pretty cool event as I made two laps around the trail: the Missouri Disabled Water Ski Association was holding a ski event. All kinds of physically disabled athletes were hitting the water along the shoreline. It was quite the inspiration. So many people who aren't disabled don't even bother getting into the water for various reasons, oftentimes fear. Here these folks were putting their fear and their disabilities aside, pushing their bodies to the limit. Simply awesome!

I finished my 9-miler, and the reality of the past week hit me. It was supposed to be a step-back week, but if you include those 4 miles I walked Tuesday evening, I racked up 42 miles in a 7-day period... no wonder my legs were sluggish this past weekend.

Still, with Week 7, I'm graduating to the big leagues. My Monday and Wednesday 3-milers increase to 4 miles. My Tuesday and Friday runs increase to 7 miles from 6, and my long run moves into uncharted water for me: 14 miles. I'm surpassing the half marathon distance and continuing a steady build for those dreaded 20-mile training runs. To kick off this big week, I was going to take my bike out for a ride, which I haven't done in over a year. Alas, plans didn't work out. Instead I was SuperDad, and for my cross-training, I took my two rugrats for a walk through the mall and some Mrs. Fields cookies.

Funny and pretty cool story from the weekend: I was getting dressed for my long run on Saturday and my daughter saw me get out my dri-fit shorts and shirt. She said, "Daddy's shirt... Daddy's shorts... Run-ning. Run-ning.". She persisted to bend her arms at her elbows and swing them from side to side saying, "Run-ning. Run-ning." Somehow over her 23 months of existence, she's picked up that I'm a runner. And she's already emulating that in her own quirky way. She doesn't understand its importance to me, but she associates running with her dad. And I just think that's awesome!

Don't Give Up... Don't Ever Give Up!

I am one of those people that is driven by inspirational quotes and speeches. There are few speeches that have been as moving to me as Jimmy Valvano's famous speech at the 1993 ESPY awards when he announced the launching of the V Foundation for Cancer Research. I can listen to it over and over and over again. And it almost always makes my eyes well up. So powerful! So inspirational!

Every year, on the Wednesday that follows the MLB All-Star game, ESPN radio does their auction to raise money for the V Foundation. It's a yearly reminder of the legendary spirit of Jimmy V and the good that has resulted from his life, and continued on even after he left us. Considering how I'm running the Chicago Marathon and raising money for St. Jude Children's Research Hospital, this speech really hit home today even more so than in years past.

Here's to you, Jimmy V. Thanks for being an inspiration and giving me and so many others the drive to say: "Don't Give Up... Don't Ever Give Up!"

Chicago, Chipotle, and a Not-So Step-Back Week

Friday morning came last week and I woke up after a whopping 4.5 hours of sleep. I stayed up way too late cleaning and packing for the weekend trip to Chicago and my almost two-year-old was fighting a cold up a good part of the night. Still I got my tail out of bed at 5:00am and made my way to Creve Coeur Lake for a 6-mile run before work. It wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it would be. Wish I could say the same for the work day - it dragged, and dragged, and dragged. After multiple caffeine injections, though, I was good to go for the drive to Chi-town.

After the I-55 trek, I hit the hay hoping Saturday morning's run wouldn't be a disaster. I woke up at 5:00am to the pouring rain and thunder. Checked the radar, and though it looked like it could be clearing up within the hour, I had to be to the lake and back before 8:30, so I passed on the opportunity to get caught out in another storm. So, just like last week, I did not do a run the day immediately before my long run. Instead I cross-trained.

What did that entail? Well, it wasn't exactly ideal or focused, but I chased my daughter around on the beach and in the water in Lake Michigan up by Evanston. That was plenty exercise, trust me. I was pretty bummed all day, though. Just aggravated, much like last Saturday. I don't like missing workouts and having to change things up.

That being said, I had no choice but to get up early Sunday, hit North Avenue Beach, and get my 12-miler in. And that I did. At the beach by 6:00am, I headed north. In the past I've only gone south, but my buddy recommended a trip north thanks to more shade and the packed gravel paths. Up for a little exploring, north I went. It was a perfect, gorgeous morning. I enjoyed every step, every second of that run. Turns out, hugging the trail, it was just around 6 miles to where the trail ended, which happens to be where Lake Shore Drive comes to an end up north. I stopped at the beach to suck down a PowerGel and take a quick pic with my iPhone on the beach (check it out to the left).

Then I was back on my way. There was a part of the trail where the packed gravel veered off closer to the lakefront away from the paved bike trail. I missed that fork on the way back. As a result, I ran what I estimated as about a quarter mile less on the way back. So that meant, running past North Avenue beach towards Oak Street for a quarter mile.

A couple things I noticed on my run... 1. That skyline about made my cry with excitement on my return trip. It's perfect. Man, I really miss this town. 2. People aren't nearly as friendly heading in the opposite direction as they are on the St. Louis trails. Tough to get a return wave, hello, or g'mornin' from my fellow brethren on the trail. I blame this on volume alone. In St. Louis it's definitely a smaller community on the paths, so you feel a close bond to those few brave souls you come across while training. In Chicago, you're one of tens of thousands daily, I'd imagine.

It was an emotional run. I thought a lot about my family, my friends, and all those who have been supporting me on this journey. I thought a lot about St. Jude, the kids there, and their families. I finished the run in just over 1 hour 47 minutes (about a 9-minute pace) - much faster than what is advised, but I felt good the whole way. After the run I grabbed a little swig of Gatorade, courtesy of the nice ladies working a free aid station for all those folks training on the lakefront Sunday morning. And then I walked out to the point for a pic with the Chicago skyline in the background. North Avenue beach is, no doubt, one of my favorite places on earth. And with this skyline to the left, why wouldn't it be?

Sunday was the first day that I had a 10+ mile run and I didn't take a nap sometime afterwards. In fact, I was going a mile a minute all day long visiting with family and friends. And my wife and I even got to take in the Cubs vs. Cards night game. Yes, I didn't even fall asleep on the El ride home at 10:00pm. Motorin' through the day like a champ!

We drove back to St. Louis Monday. I had a 3-miler to get in, and I opted to wait until I got back to St. Louis to run it. Well, that got pushed off until after dinner (a big, fat Chipotle burrito - no El Faro, but still good). I ran 3 miles at 9:00pm in the dark in my subdivision after woofing down that belly bomb - probably not the best of ideas, but I got through it. I went to sleep not too long afterwards and got up again at 5:00am for a 5-miler on Tuesday. So let's go over this: Chipotle and two runs totalling 8 miles inside of 10 hours. Ugh, what am I doing?

To top it off, I ended going for a 4-mile walk with my family Tuesday night (12 miles walking/running inside of 24 hours, oh and a Chipotle belly bomb). And then, somehow, this morning I managed to get up and get in my Wednesday 3-miler and a strength workout at the gym. This step-back week hasn't been much of a relief. It's my own fault for my screwball running schedule. And obviously, that walk probably wasn't the best of options for evening entertainment last night. But as my friend Mike told me today: Life sometimes interferes with marathon training, and vice versa. But I'm committed to sticking to my program. These variations might not be best, but I'll live and learn. Today I'm learning that my legs are tired after pushing myself the past few days... very tired.

Ahhhh! Aquaphor

I have definitely made my fair share of training mistakes over the years as I continued to learn this sport. One of my biggest dragons that I have yet to slay has been blisters on my feet.

OK, disgusting I realize. Not something anyone wants to read about online, but this is a blog about running, so occasionally subjects like blisters, chafing, "taping up", and bathroom emergencies might just have to become subject material.

I learned early on that cotton socks are a big no-no. But even with the synthetics whisking moisture away, I seem to get bad blisters on my toes at the end of 10+ mile runs, particularly during races. Perhaps my shoes aren't perfectly fit. But I have gone to a couple shops to get fitted and both times have ended with the same result. Maybe it has something to do with my flat, two-by-fours that I call feet (thanks, Dad, for passing those on to me). Or maybe it's that I alter my running form when I start dragging on those longer distances. It's no big deal when I've got some time to recover, but I'm quickly learning that I need a solution fast to this problem when I'm training 6 days a week.

This past week was rough. Since my long run was delayed til Sunday, I skipped my normal cross-train day on Sunday and went right into my Week 5 running workout. I had some decent blisters on my toes after the 11-miler, and they hurt like hell during Monday morning's sluggish 3-miler.

Today, on my rest day (Thou shall not train on Thursdays), as I write this I am proud to say I found what might be my long term solution: Aquaphor

After Monday's run and strength workout, I was pretty desperate to find something to reduce friction and pain on my toes. Otherwise, there was no way I was finishing Tuesday's 6-miler. I busted out my collection of Aquaphor samples, loaded up my toes Tuesday morning before my run, and voila... the Vaseline-like substance worked. Though there still was some discomfort from the damage I did the past two days, Aquaphor helped save the day.

Same result on Wednesday during my 3-miler and strength workout. So, congratulations, Eucerin. Your free samples led to a customer walking into a Walgreens and buying an $8 jar (oh, and thanks for that $1-off coupon too... pronounced "cooo-pon", not "cue-pon")

This week was particularly rough getting out of bed. Not having that x-train day really put the hammer down on my legs. With Sunday's run, I turned out 23 miles in four days of consecutive running.

About a half hour into my 6-mile run Tuesday I had a harsh realization: Come race day when I get to this very point, I'll still have about another 3 hours and 30 minutes left to run. That's another 210 more minutes... 7 times what I just did. What the hell am I thinking???

It's a good thing I still have 94 days to go. I know this is part of the natural progression in preparing one's body to run 26.2 miles for the first time, but I must my dumbfoundedness for those who train like this year round and run multiple marathons each year is actually increasing as I progress through this program. I guess it's like anything else. It becomes a way of life. God bless those of you that fall into this camp and manage to keep a good work/life/family/running balance.

As I enjoy my day of rest (I'm really starting to dig Thursdays again - almost like in college but for completely different reasons), I'm thinking of my runs this weekend: a 6-miler tomorrow morning and a 12-miler Saturday. This week I'll be in Chicago. Yep, heading "home" to visit with family and friends. I'm psyched. It's been too long since I've been home. And this trip means that I'll get what might be my only chance before the big day to run along the lakefront that I love so much.

So, that's where I'll be early Saturday morning (rain, rain stay away) taking in the fresh air of Lake Michigan on a nice 12-miler. Trotting in the shadows of that beautiful skyline. Hoping that my Aquaphor investment pays off. Enjoying the company of so many other active early risers. Thinking about race day, the kids at St. Jude, and all of you who have been so supportive. Giddyup!

Less Than 100 Days Left

The countdown to race day is officially into the double digits.

The past week of training was a bit rough having just gotten back from vacation.

After my Monday workout, my Tuesday run increased in mileage from 5 miles to 6. Not that big a deal, but it was a noticeable difference. With the increase I decided to run it outside rather than around the short track at the gym. It was a good move as it just felt good to run outside early morning midweek. I love running into the few souls on the trail at the lake who are just out for a coffee and morning walk with nature before heading to work for the rat race, not to mention the fellow hardcore runners and bikers who are there virtually every morning.

Wednesday rolled around, though, and I felt every bit of that extra mile. I was pretty sore, and just plain old tired - the lack of sleep from vacation and the long car ride home finally was catching up with me. I barely got my tail out of bed and got to the gym waaay late. I got my easy 3-miler in, but I felt super sluggish. My legs were plenty sore from the Wednesday run, where I had decided to pick it up a notch the final mile and a half. I finished my run and was just going to hit the showers and be on my way to work, but somehow I talked myself into getting my strength training in. I figured I had to with a day off on Thursday (back to the "Thou shall not train on Thursdays routine").

On Thursday I took my day off. It felt flippin' great to have nothing to do.

Friday rolled around. It was July 3rd, so I had a day off from work in observance of Independence Day, which was Saturday. I met my buddy Mike at the lake for my 6-mile pace run. Mike is much faster than me. Though he slows his pace down for me, he also tends to push me. That being said, we got a great run in: 6 miles at an 8:45 pace. If I go all 26.2 at that, I'll be astonished.

Then the Fourth of July came. I was supposed to run 11 miles. And I woke up at 6am to a torrential downpour. I looked at the radar and saw no hope in sight. I called off the run with hopes of catching a window later in the day. No luck. Though in hindsight a window existed, the radar kept showing storms heading our way, and I just wasn't in the mood to get caught out in one. Needless to say, I was miserable all day. Yeah, I was downright depressed about not getting the run in, and I kept following the weather all day long. For a second I thought about running 11 miles at the gym, but 165 laps just didn't entice me for some reason. So Saturday passed, and I didn't get my long run in.

That meant I needed to do it Sunday. Again I woke up to rain at 6:00am, but it was clearing, and the window opened up... ta-dah! Mike joined me for 11 miles - 2 long laps around the lake. And our buddy Chris joined us for the second lap. We came in under a 9-minute pace, which again is way faster than what I should be doing, but oh well. I guess I'll learn my lesson later. The cool thing was that I was really dreading the 11-miler, and it wasn't all that bad. Good sign, I guess. Maybe the unintended day off had something to do with feeling fresher during the run. Maybe it was the cooler weather. Either way, I've got a psychological boost going from the run, and I'm going to ride it as long as I can.

Doing my long run Sunday, means no cross-training day this week. I'm skipping it and heading right for my Monday 3-miler and strength program. I know I'm gonna be sore as hell in the morning, but that just means more stretching.

So before I crash tonight, it's time to get some very belated thank you's out to the folks who have so generously sponsored me through a donation to St. Jude. If I don't get you your thank you, tonight, it's coming. I'm well over my $1,000 goal, and though I'm not setting a new goal on the St. Jude Heroes page, I think it would be awesome to break $2,500. Thank you all for your support!