After a short run this morning, this afternoon was swim workout. Being a running, swimming is not a workout I look forward to, but have come to like the effort it takes and think I've improved some. That Guy may think otherwise.
That Guy is not a swimmer, at least I've not seen him in the pool or lake, but he was watching me tonight. He said I looked like I was fighting some invisible sea creature. I said doesn't matter what it looks like just as long as I don't sink.
I've swam off and on during my running career as a way to maintain some fitness when injured. A couple years ago I started doing it as a cross training workout and triathlon prep. That was before my ankle tendon surgery two years ago. Now I'm back to cross training and maybe triathlon prep. I'll see how open water swims go. I still have to get comfortable in the open water. I have to overcome the mild panic attacks I get on the first few swims. I think some of it is the coldness of the water during the early season swims, the reservoir where we swim can be in the mid 50's when people start swimming. I'll wait til it gets warmer.
I wonder what swimmers think about when they swim? I spend my time counting laps, repeating the lap number I'm on so I don't forget. Sometimes I can drift off to something else but not for long. Makes a 30 minute swim seem like 60. Maybe I can get That Guy to count the laps so I can let my mind wonder, is that possible while swimming? I wouldn't want to forget to breathe at the right time!
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Tuesday, May 30, 2017
That Guy and a cloudy day
It's bad enough when my trainer chastises me for not being consistent with the strengthening exercises, but when That Guy gets in on the action it's plain disgusting. After a comfortable 5 miler yesterday, this morning called for an easy 3. I chose my hills route, but keeping it shorter than usual. I wasn't a half mile into the run when That Guy appeared. It was an overcast morning so when he appears on a day like today it's not to say "hey, looking good!"
No, his comment was, "hey, you're lookin' like me today!" All I could say was "and I'm feeling like you look today." My left glute was sore. I told myself it'll loosen up after a mile or so...wishful thinking. When it's like this it stays like this, pain on every push off. As I moaned about making this a shorter run than planned That Guy chimed in, "time to get back to your hip exercises and clam shells!" I glanced over and, not welcoming his company today, remarked, "it's cloudy, why are you even here?" "Someone needs to remind you."
Oh for the days when an injury could be healed with a few days off! Back to the gym.
No, his comment was, "hey, you're lookin' like me today!" All I could say was "and I'm feeling like you look today." My left glute was sore. I told myself it'll loosen up after a mile or so...wishful thinking. When it's like this it stays like this, pain on every push off. As I moaned about making this a shorter run than planned That Guy chimed in, "time to get back to your hip exercises and clam shells!" I glanced over and, not welcoming his company today, remarked, "it's cloudy, why are you even here?" "Someone needs to remind you."
Oh for the days when an injury could be healed with a few days off! Back to the gym.
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
Run on the River race with That Guy and my daughters
May 21, 2017
Run on the River in Astoria, the first race in almost two years and the first one in much longer where I wasn’t in pain going into it. Thank you Kat!
And who would show up at the race? That Guy! It was good to see him, he said this was his first race in a couple years also.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, my endurance mileage wasn’t what I’d like it to be for a race, long runs of 5 miles, with about 3 weeks of tempo runs included. I had noticed my paces in those tempos coming down to the mid 8:00s. I also hadn’t run a full out pace either, the closest being the 6xhalf mile repeats I did the Thursday before the race. So how would I react to the lactic acid build up the last mile?
Knowing my training has been going well and my hip becoming stronger, I have still been reluctant to pick a race. The last two I signed up for I encountered a nagging muscle injuries that prevented me from running. I was telling myself I wanted a better distance base and sometimes even telling myself I was done racing. Kasey’s suggestion that we all run this race was the motivation I needed. I began looking forward to it, mostly because I enjoy running with my daughters.
Training went well leading up to this, still did not have the endurance mileage I would have liked, but I was able to stay healthy and get in some speed workouts. I wasn’t nervous and actually thought with a bit of luck and well executed race strategy I might be able to eek out a second place family finish. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go out with the girls from the start and hang on, rather I needed to be conservative then hope I had enough during the last mile to reel one of them in as they suffered from going out too fast.
It started out that way, the girls went out and I followed. I needed to keep relatively close to have a shot during the last mile. Kasey was looking strong, taking the lead so I began tracking Jasmine thinking she might finally concede a 3rd place finish. I could feel the effort but not having raced in a long time nor done much speed work I had no clue to my pace. I was planning on 8:15 mile at the fastest, I passed it at 7:45 and at least 15 yards behind Jasmine. Kasey was another 10 yards farther and extending. I was, to put it mildly, a bit concerned about that pace and the effect it would have on my last mile.
I noticed right from the start That Guy was at my side. Was he racing me? He still had that stiff shuffle going, unlike my smooth yet strained effort. It was an annoying pleasure to see him, even if my plan was to try and beat one of my daughters, not him. A pleasure to see that he’s still running races, annoying that his awkward gait was keeping up with mine. Oh well, it’s good to suffer with company.
I backed off a bit, trying to relax, keeping my breathing steady and deep, yet keeping in contact with the girls. The second mile mark was not accurate, I passed it 6:42 later. I know I hadn’t sped up! But I had begun to close on Jasmine. By the turn around I had closed the gap to less than 10 yards on Jasmine, but I was also beginning to feel that fast first mile in a more definitive way, I was starting to hurt! I was counting on her feeling it also. I had enough time to catch her, if only I could sustain a decent pace. With about ¾ of a mile to go I was out of gas and Jasmine was pulling away. I could also see she was closing in on Kasey. Which presented a Dad dilemma…
I’m pretty sure Kasey wasn’t aware Jasmine was approaching. I was impressed with Jasmine’s effort knowing she hadn’t trained and had to be hurting. I was also hoping Kasey would earn her first family championship. I conceded first and second to them and watched their finish unfold, wondering if I should intercede and warn Kasey of Jasmine’s approach also knowing this would encourage Jasmine as well. As I pondered this, I let out a “Go Kasey!” She gave me a thumbs up and told me later she knew this was a warning that Jasmine was approaching. Jasmine caught her with about ¼ to go.
By this time, lactic acid had sent in, the bear was on my back, I was dragging the piano, whatever metaphor you use to describe it... my legs hurt, my stomach ached, my lungs burned, my head screamed to stop. I remembered why I “disliked” 5k’s, they are an intense hurt, unlike the marathon hurt which is gradual and dull and you can adjust to it. The 5k hurt is quick, sharp and all encompassing, it’s an all out attack on your being.
That Guy was right beside me the entire way. I couldn’t shake him and his shuffling stride. As I sprinted to the finish, he plodded along beside me, how could that plod be as fast as my sprint?
I made it across the finish in 25:17! I had forced myself not to look at my watch after the mile split so had no idea how fast I was going. A much better finish than the “under 27” I had set for myself.
Congrats to Jasmine for keeping the family trophy. Congrats to Kasey for legitimately beating me and your first sub 8:00 race. Thank you both for a fun weekend. And thanks to That Guy for keeping me motivated.
Run on the River in Astoria, the first race in almost two years and the first one in much longer where I wasn’t in pain going into it. Thank you Kat!
And who would show up at the race? That Guy! It was good to see him, he said this was his first race in a couple years also.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, my endurance mileage wasn’t what I’d like it to be for a race, long runs of 5 miles, with about 3 weeks of tempo runs included. I had noticed my paces in those tempos coming down to the mid 8:00s. I also hadn’t run a full out pace either, the closest being the 6xhalf mile repeats I did the Thursday before the race. So how would I react to the lactic acid build up the last mile?
Knowing my training has been going well and my hip becoming stronger, I have still been reluctant to pick a race. The last two I signed up for I encountered a nagging muscle injuries that prevented me from running. I was telling myself I wanted a better distance base and sometimes even telling myself I was done racing. Kasey’s suggestion that we all run this race was the motivation I needed. I began looking forward to it, mostly because I enjoy running with my daughters.
Training went well leading up to this, still did not have the endurance mileage I would have liked, but I was able to stay healthy and get in some speed workouts. I wasn’t nervous and actually thought with a bit of luck and well executed race strategy I might be able to eek out a second place family finish. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go out with the girls from the start and hang on, rather I needed to be conservative then hope I had enough during the last mile to reel one of them in as they suffered from going out too fast.
It started out that way, the girls went out and I followed. I needed to keep relatively close to have a shot during the last mile. Kasey was looking strong, taking the lead so I began tracking Jasmine thinking she might finally concede a 3rd place finish. I could feel the effort but not having raced in a long time nor done much speed work I had no clue to my pace. I was planning on 8:15 mile at the fastest, I passed it at 7:45 and at least 15 yards behind Jasmine. Kasey was another 10 yards farther and extending. I was, to put it mildly, a bit concerned about that pace and the effect it would have on my last mile.
I noticed right from the start That Guy was at my side. Was he racing me? He still had that stiff shuffle going, unlike my smooth yet strained effort. It was an annoying pleasure to see him, even if my plan was to try and beat one of my daughters, not him. A pleasure to see that he’s still running races, annoying that his awkward gait was keeping up with mine. Oh well, it’s good to suffer with company.
I backed off a bit, trying to relax, keeping my breathing steady and deep, yet keeping in contact with the girls. The second mile mark was not accurate, I passed it 6:42 later. I know I hadn’t sped up! But I had begun to close on Jasmine. By the turn around I had closed the gap to less than 10 yards on Jasmine, but I was also beginning to feel that fast first mile in a more definitive way, I was starting to hurt! I was counting on her feeling it also. I had enough time to catch her, if only I could sustain a decent pace. With about ¾ of a mile to go I was out of gas and Jasmine was pulling away. I could also see she was closing in on Kasey. Which presented a Dad dilemma…
I’m pretty sure Kasey wasn’t aware Jasmine was approaching. I was impressed with Jasmine’s effort knowing she hadn’t trained and had to be hurting. I was also hoping Kasey would earn her first family championship. I conceded first and second to them and watched their finish unfold, wondering if I should intercede and warn Kasey of Jasmine’s approach also knowing this would encourage Jasmine as well. As I pondered this, I let out a “Go Kasey!” She gave me a thumbs up and told me later she knew this was a warning that Jasmine was approaching. Jasmine caught her with about ¼ to go.
By this time, lactic acid had sent in, the bear was on my back, I was dragging the piano, whatever metaphor you use to describe it... my legs hurt, my stomach ached, my lungs burned, my head screamed to stop. I remembered why I “disliked” 5k’s, they are an intense hurt, unlike the marathon hurt which is gradual and dull and you can adjust to it. The 5k hurt is quick, sharp and all encompassing, it’s an all out attack on your being.
That Guy was right beside me the entire way. I couldn’t shake him and his shuffling stride. As I sprinted to the finish, he plodded along beside me, how could that plod be as fast as my sprint?
I made it across the finish in 25:17! I had forced myself not to look at my watch after the mile split so had no idea how fast I was going. A much better finish than the “under 27” I had set for myself.Congrats to Jasmine for keeping the family trophy. Congrats to Kasey for legitimately beating me and your first sub 8:00 race. Thank you both for a fun weekend. And thanks to That Guy for keeping me motivated.
An introduction to That Guy
July 2016
My most vivid memory of ‘that guy’ is during my freshman or sophomore year in college. Our track team traveled to Indiana University in Bloomington for a preseason tune up meet. It was an all comers meet so there were other colleges, some high schools and other non-affiliated runners.
I was running the 3 mile that day, yes 3 mile not the 5000 that’s how long ago this took place, so was watching the steeplechase. What I remember from that race is “that guy.” I’ve seen that guy many times during my running career but he stands out most from this day. You see, that guy was not a collegiate runner or a high school runner or a recent graduate. No that guy was probably at least 40 years old perhaps older. Hey I was 20, he looked like an ancient runner to me then.
But here he was running the steeplechase with mostly collegiate runners. His technique in getting over the barriers was not as graceful as the others. Where the college runners hurdled over the barriers, that guy ran up to them, place his hands on top of the barrier and swung his legs to the side as he hopped over. His water barrier technique was just a unique. Rather than running up to the barrier placing one foot on top and taking a long push off step to land in the foot to ankle deep water, that guy would hop up onto the barrier with both feet and jump as far as he could towards to shallow water. He typically landed in knee deep water.
As I watched him I at first was embarrassed for him. I heard some laughing, others groaning as he continue the race, being lapped often. But as I watched him I couldn’t help wonder what made him enter this race, one of the most grueling track events. I surmised that he loved running and had always wanted to try it. I ended up going to the edge of the track and as he came finished his final lap I went up to him, congratulated him on his finish and said, “I love watching someone who loves to run.” I still do.
That was the most memorable “that guy” I’ve witnessed. But I’ve seen others. That guy who while I’m loping along is plodding, is waddling, is running. That guy who wins the ‘over whatever’ age group. Whenever I see that guy I always think to myself I want to be running when I’m that guy’s age.
Anymore when I’m out for a run feeling good, enjoying the feeling of movement, sweat, the rhythm of my breath, I’ll look to my side and see ‘that guy.” When I first see him, I want to deny his existence beside me. No matter how graceful I’m feeling, what race I’m reliving, that guy’s shadow is beside me, plodding along, a bit overweight, looking a little stiff, but he’s keeping up with me. Or should I say, I’ve caught up to him.
After over 40 years of running, I’m now That Guy. It was confirmed not long ago when after a particularly hard workout with my trainer, she says, with what I’m sure was meant as admiration, “I hope I’m able to do that when I’m your age!”
Yes, I’ve become that guy. And should I win an age group award I hope I am an inspiration to someone younger. But I no longer run for awards or to win races or even for better times. I run now as Frank Shorter says, “to slow down as slowly as possible.” So after first denying his companionship, I accept it, if not embrace it.
You see, though I’m now that guy, I still love to run and I still have people to admire. I admire those who are in their prime and have the talent I only dreamed about. I admire my best friend who after having a knee replacement about 6 years ago, was able to out sprint a world champion woman shot putter inspiring him to slowly begin running again. I admire my mom, who after having a hip replacement is again walking as she was before the surgery and entering 5k races and at 80 can even be seen running during some of those races, encouraging those decades younger to finish with her.
I am that guy, but there is still ‘that person’ that I want to become, to be running when I’m that age.
My most vivid memory of ‘that guy’ is during my freshman or sophomore year in college. Our track team traveled to Indiana University in Bloomington for a preseason tune up meet. It was an all comers meet so there were other colleges, some high schools and other non-affiliated runners.
I was running the 3 mile that day, yes 3 mile not the 5000 that’s how long ago this took place, so was watching the steeplechase. What I remember from that race is “that guy.” I’ve seen that guy many times during my running career but he stands out most from this day. You see, that guy was not a collegiate runner or a high school runner or a recent graduate. No that guy was probably at least 40 years old perhaps older. Hey I was 20, he looked like an ancient runner to me then.
But here he was running the steeplechase with mostly collegiate runners. His technique in getting over the barriers was not as graceful as the others. Where the college runners hurdled over the barriers, that guy ran up to them, place his hands on top of the barrier and swung his legs to the side as he hopped over. His water barrier technique was just a unique. Rather than running up to the barrier placing one foot on top and taking a long push off step to land in the foot to ankle deep water, that guy would hop up onto the barrier with both feet and jump as far as he could towards to shallow water. He typically landed in knee deep water.
As I watched him I at first was embarrassed for him. I heard some laughing, others groaning as he continue the race, being lapped often. But as I watched him I couldn’t help wonder what made him enter this race, one of the most grueling track events. I surmised that he loved running and had always wanted to try it. I ended up going to the edge of the track and as he came finished his final lap I went up to him, congratulated him on his finish and said, “I love watching someone who loves to run.” I still do.
That was the most memorable “that guy” I’ve witnessed. But I’ve seen others. That guy who while I’m loping along is plodding, is waddling, is running. That guy who wins the ‘over whatever’ age group. Whenever I see that guy I always think to myself I want to be running when I’m that guy’s age.
Anymore when I’m out for a run feeling good, enjoying the feeling of movement, sweat, the rhythm of my breath, I’ll look to my side and see ‘that guy.” When I first see him, I want to deny his existence beside me. No matter how graceful I’m feeling, what race I’m reliving, that guy’s shadow is beside me, plodding along, a bit overweight, looking a little stiff, but he’s keeping up with me. Or should I say, I’ve caught up to him.
 | |
| Catching up to That Guy |
After over 40 years of running, I’m now That Guy. It was confirmed not long ago when after a particularly hard workout with my trainer, she says, with what I’m sure was meant as admiration, “I hope I’m able to do that when I’m your age!”
Yes, I’ve become that guy. And should I win an age group award I hope I am an inspiration to someone younger. But I no longer run for awards or to win races or even for better times. I run now as Frank Shorter says, “to slow down as slowly as possible.” So after first denying his companionship, I accept it, if not embrace it.
You see, though I’m now that guy, I still love to run and I still have people to admire. I admire those who are in their prime and have the talent I only dreamed about. I admire my best friend who after having a knee replacement about 6 years ago, was able to out sprint a world champion woman shot putter inspiring him to slowly begin running again. I admire my mom, who after having a hip replacement is again walking as she was before the surgery and entering 5k races and at 80 can even be seen running during some of those races, encouraging those decades younger to finish with her.
I am that guy, but there is still ‘that person’ that I want to become, to be running when I’m that age.
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