Sunday, November 25, 2012

Tuesday Marina Route Description (4/16/13)

You will be logging between 2-5 miles depending upon your training level. The link below should give you a relatively clear sense of where we're going. I've also included a verbal description beneath it:

TUESDAY'S RUN COURSE! (this map indicates '6' miles, but we will only be covering '5' miles')

A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF THE ROUTE-

In short, we will head NORTH from the Marina Green Monkey Bars on along Marina Boulevard until we reach the intersection of Mason/Halleck. This is 1 MILE! Beginners will turn around here and head back to the monkey bars for 2 MILES!

Continue running on the paved path along Mason past SportsBasement. Shortly after we pass SportsBasement, there is a lengthy straight stretch and a funny looking metal power box on your RIGHT. There will also be a 'MM3' in chalk on the ground. This is 1.5 MILES. Intermediate runners will turn around and head back to the monkey bars for 3 MILES!

Advanced and Race level runners will continue past the 1.5 mile mark along the paved path. After roughly 200 meters you will approach the intersection of Mason and Crissy Field Avenue. There is a stop sign and a pedestrian crosswalk here. You will take a quick RIGHT on Crissy Field Avenue and head uphill. Once you've crested the hill you have logged 2 MILES! Advanced level runners will turn around and head back to the monkey bars for 4 MILES!

Race level runners will turn LEFT on Lincoln and continue running towards the Presidio. You'll be looking down at Crissy Field once you're on Lincoln. Enjoy the AWESOME view! Continue running along the sidewalk/shoulder of Lincoln for roughly half a mile until you reach the intersection of Lincoln/Mcdowell. This is 2.5 MILES. I will try to put down a 'MM 5' in chalk on the ground for your reference. Race level runners turn around here and head back to the monkey bars for 5 MILES!

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

'Suggested' Marina Recovery Run Course Map & Description (7/4/15)

You will be logging between 4-7 miles depending upon your training level. The link below should give you a relatively clear sense of where we're going. I've also included a verbal description beneath it:

Run Course Map!

A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF THE RUN-

You will head NORTH from the Marina Green Monkey Bars on along Marina Boulevard for roughly 1/2 mile until we reach the grassy, volleyball court area on the right. Take a right and cut through the volleyball court area and run through the parking lot behind it. Turn LEFT onto the Marina Promenade which is a fire road/dirt trail.

Continue running on this path for roughly a mile. Eventually, this path will veer to the right towards the Warming Hut. Continue running towards the Warming Hut. For the uninitiated, the Warming Hut is A BIG WHITE BUILDING WITH TABLES AND BENCHES IN FRONT OF IT. Hopefully, it will be hard to miss). The Warming Hut is 2 MILES! Beginner runners will turn around here and head back to the Monkey Bars for 4 MILES.

ALL OTHER RUNNERS will continue past the Warming Hut towards the base of the Golden Gate Bridge. You will run roughly half a mile until you reach 'Hoppers Hands' which is right at the base of the bridge. This is a dead end, so you have to turn around. This is 2.5 MILES. Intermediate runners will have logged 5 MILES upon returning to the Monkey Bars.

Advanced and Race level runners will continue running SOUTH along the paved path past the Marina Safeway and UP Fort Mason Hill. Just as the hill is about to head down into Aquatic Park, Advanced runners will turn around and head back to the monkey bars for 6 MILES!

Race level runners will run down the hill into Aquatic Park. Run along the sidewalk adjacent to the waterfront. Advanced level runners will turn around at the end of Aquatic Park/Edge of Fisherman’s Wharf. Return to the monkey bars for 7 MILES!

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

I run because 2:39 is not just a number...

There's a number that haunts my dreams. Sometimes this number keeps me from dreaming, let alone sleeping.

It forces me onto the road when I have zero inclination to do anything that even vaguely approximates running. It forces me to run one more interval when I'm lightheaded and nauseous. It's not a number, it's a curse. This number is 2:39.

Am I being melodramatic? Maybe. but, if a single number has been rattling around in your head for 7+ years, it's a bit more than just a number. If it's not a curse, maybe obsession is another word that fits the bill.

This number has been on my mind because I have come perilously close to pulling it off on a number of occasions, but have fallen short often for reasons I haven't had any control over.

It started in 2005 when I had a spectacular race at the Chicago Marathon. I ran through the first half of the race in 1:20 and felt strong. A few miles later, GI issues forced a pitstop and I would end up finishing in 2:45. I was annoyed, but I'd be back next year to claim what was rightfully mine.

One year later, I was hobbled by plantar fasciitis and subsequent surgery to correct said plantar fasciitis. I was annoyed and a bit disheartened, but surely 2007 would be my year.

2007 would turn out to be a year of rehab, slow progress, and frustration. I could run, but I couldn't run the way I did in 2005. I was annoyed, disheartened, and a bit pissed off. 2:39 was out there beckoning to me, mocking me, and I didn't like it.

2008 arrived and while 2:39 was on my mind, it was largely in the back of mind. I simply wanted to get back to running healthy and happy on a regular basis which didn't happen very often in 2007.

As summer turned to fall, I started thinking maybe I could give the marathon another shot. Naturally, 2:39 was the first thing that came to mind.

I resumed training with 2:39 in mind. I could still do most of what I had done before, but it was harder than it had been three years prior. As I approached the conclusion of my training cycle, I realized 2:39 was too much of a stretch.

I compromised. I decided to run for 2:45 or faster. I'd do my best to notch a PR, but not the one I really wanted. It was a smart decision and it paid off, but 2:39 was still out there.

2009 was unequivocally going to be my year to post a 2:39. Brimming with confidence from the 2:43 I had managed to run in 2008, I pushed forward with my training. But, sometimes your past comes back to haunt you.

Plantar fasciitis returned and took up residence in my other foot. Acupuncture, cold laser treatment, graston technique, and a litany of other treatments failed.

Desperate to get rid of plantar fasciitis and still vainly clinging to the hope that I somehow would be able to run a 2:39 before the year ended, I explored an obscure treatment that is about as painful as it sounds (dry needling).

Lidocaine was injected into my heel to numb it. This was followed up by 'fascial perforation' with a needle that was designed to induce fascial bleeding. I was voluntarily submitting to this trauma as it was supposed to stimulate the healing process. All of this pain and suffering was driven by 2:39.

The dry needling procedure ultimately worked, but it was too late. 2009 was nearly over and while I was in the kind of shape to run a marathon, I knew my fitness level wasn't high enough to realistically attempt a 2:39.

Independent of the return of plantar fasciitis, I had my ass handed to me on pretty much every conceivable level in 2009. I knew I couldn't run a personal best or a 2:39, but there were some demons I needed to exorcise.

So, I toed the line despite that fact that I was marginally fit. I posted a 2:53 and was as happy about this as I reasonably could be. But, I was still nearly 15 minutes away from what I really wanted.

Another year had passed and I had come away empty-handed. I had exorcised some demons in 2009, but 2:39 wasn't one of them.

I was out for blood in 2010. I felt strong. I felt confident. Surely, 2:39 would be mine this time around. I was killing all of my workouts and the pace I needed to knock this one out was feeling within my grasp.

But, I was playing with fire during a compressed training cycle. My training was a volatile combination of too much, too soon, and too fucking fast. Ultimately, I was asking too much.

Two weeks before taper, my body called it quits and I was felled by a femoral stress fracture. I wasn't pissed this time around. I was just despondent.

I descended into an abyss of Netflix, red wine, and tears that lasted longer than it should have, but this latest setback was a veritable coup de grace. 2:39 had become this Sisyphean endeavor unlike anything I had ever encountered.

Maybe I simply wasn't meant to run a 2:39. How many more times did I need to try and fail? My confidence wasn't just rattled, it was obliterated.

2011 arrived and it was a year of transition for me on a variety of levels. 2:39 took a backseat as I forged ahead in bold new directions with my business and my personal life. I achieved a lot of 'personal bests' in 2011, but none of them were related to running a 2:39 marathon.

As 2012 began, I explored something completely different as I ventured into ultra-running. During the countless hours I spent by myself running the trails in the Headlands, my mind kept wandering back to 2:39.

Sure, I would be thrilled to complete a 50K and the 50 mile race I signed up for, but this wasn't the ultimate goal.

In the back of my mind was the idea that maybe somehow logging this mileage early in the year and challenging my body/mind in a different way might pay dividends later in the year and enable me to attempt 2:39 one more time.

Summer waned. I knew if I wanted to attempt a 2:39, I would need to start formally training soon. I gradually segued into training. I signed up for CIM on 12/2, but I wasn't fully committed.

I would opt out if I didn't feel like I was in optimal shape. I decided if I posted a 2:39 or faster, I would make this one my final competitive marathon.

Training progressed slowly and methodically. I failed to do a lot of the little things simply because my schedule barely had time for me to just get in the training I needed. But, the body didn't complain much.

Taper approached and with it came the realization that I might just be able to pull this off. I knocked off more than a few markedly challenging workouts with a little bit left in the tank. My final long run loomed large on the horizon...22 miles with 15 of them at my target pace.

Two years prior it was during this very workout that I incurred a stress fracture in my femur. In the days leading up to this run, I prepared for it like a race. I slept well. I ate well. I hydrated well. I got a massage. I listened to the music that helped me get in the right head space.

I showed up and simply killed the toughest long run I have ever attempted in preparation for a marathon and had something left when it was over. I got a bit choked up when I finished the run as I realized I might just be ready to run a 2:39.

I'm less than three weeks away from finding out whether or not I can finally get this number out of my head once and for all. I'm confident, but I'm not taking anything for granted.

Anything can happen. But, if I can get to the starting line healthy, I know I'm better positioned to run a 2:39 than I have ever been.

So, I run because 2:39 is not just a number. It's a mission. It's a quest. It's an obsession. It's all I want from running.

Tuesday, November 06, 2012

I run because I am GIANT..

I don't think anyone really knows who they are until they've had their back against the wall. Finding yourself nearly consumed by the jaws of defeat is where you find out what you're really about.

I'm not a baseball fan, but I will readily admit I was RIVETED by the San Francisco Giants postseason run to become World Series Champions last year. Seeing the Giants come back time and again when their backs were against the wall struck a chord with me and undoubtedly, countless others.

I found myself getting a bit choked up when the Giants finally completed their remarkable run. A few tears were shed when I heard Hunter Pence and a few of his teammates talk about chemistry, the x-factor, heart, and a little bit of magic helping them achieve something GIANT.

Running is markedly different from baseball. There's no 'team' per se in running. But, things have to click on race day in order for you to have a quality race. This involves doing the right training, nailing your nutrition/hydration plan, avoiding aggravations/injuries, getting your head straight, and a little bit of the x-factor.

It's this x-factor or 'magic' that can make the difference between a good race and a GIANT race. It's 'heart' that can help you rally from the deep valley of fatigue and exhaustion to take another step, to log another mile, and to fight your way to the finish line.

At my lowest point during my 50 mile race earlier this year, I was teetering on the precipice of defeat. My stomach was staging a revolt of epic proportions. My legs were seething with pain unlike anything I'd ever felt.

Getting my feet to simply land where I wanted them to was a monumental effort. My body was simply shutting down on me. I had never felt so small and vulnerable in my entire life.

But, I didn't give into these feelings of being vulnerable and diminutive. Whether it was my heart or a little pixie dust (or the Mountain Dew I knocked back), I managed to rally during the last 5 miles of the race and actually run all the way to the finish line.

On the road and in life, we all have times where we feel small and vulnerable. Anyone who says otherwise is lying. But, to push forward and continue on despite having your back against the wall is GIANT.

I run because to stop is to give into the fallacious notion that I'm small. I run because I am GIANT...and sometimes that's what's required.