It was the toughest week of Hal Higdon's Advanced Post-Marathon training schedule, and I was killing it. I was even doing extra.
When the plan called for a 90-minute run at an easy pace, I did 14 miles at a comfortable, but certainly not leisurely, 7:27 pace (for a total of 1:44:45).
When the plan called for eight 400-meter intervals at 5K pace, I did nine, averaging four seconds faster than 5K pace for each.
When the plan called for three miles at 5K pace, I ran them, but couched as miles two, four and six in a seven-mile run.
When the plan called for a 40-minute tempo run, I did 45.
And when Sunday rolled around, my left Achilles tendon was telling me to shut it down.
I did not listen, of course.
Instead, I ran another 14-miler. But this time, the pain slowed me to a jog by the halfway point, and a limping shuffle by mile 10, resulting in a time of 2:03:21 (an 8:48 pace).
But the agony of the injury is not in the pain itself. It is in the psychological tricks it plays. I started to wonder if I had done permanent damage (worst case scenario) or if I would be better in time for the 5K I was planning to run on April 7 (best case scenario) and everything in between.
So all this past week, I played it cool, resting Monday, and doing simple five-milers for the next three days - icing the tendon whenever possible.
The five slow miles on Tuesday (8+ pace) gave way to a better effort on Wednesday (7+ pace) and a return to form on Thursday (6+ pace). I can not say I am completely better, but after doing a 40 minute tempo run yesterday and a 14-mile run today, I would say that the theory of "active recovery" is being nicely put into practice. But the agony of the injury continues to nag at my brain.
Seven days until prospective race day.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Post-marathon speed training
After six years of being a marathon runner, I continue to use Hal Higdon's training schedules. They have worked so well for me and have become second nature in my schedule - long runs on Sundays, cross-training on Mondays, rest on Fridays, and some speed intervals and tempo runs thrown into the mix during the week.
Mr. Higdon's recipe for post-marathon training involves changing what your body has been used to for the past 18 weeks. After a week of slow recovery, he begins to focusing on short, fast runs. Instead of working on long endurance, you train your body to do short, fast bursts.
The Advanced program involves some great training tools once a week for four weeks:
Tempo runs - starting slow, building to race pace, then slowing back down, during the course of a 30 to 50 minute run.
400-meter speed intervals - on the track, doing a lap at 5K pace, then jogging a lap, and repeating four to eight times.
One-mile intervals - running three one-mile intervals at a designated pace, the first week at marathon pace, but the fourth week at 5K pace.
Mr. Higdon suggests a 5K race after four weeks of this training and it really is a perfect way to start a new season of running. I have gotten a few PRs at some of these first post-marathon 5Ks (and have come close in others), so it is worth putting in the work - and it is hard work at times.
Mr. Higdon's recipe for post-marathon training involves changing what your body has been used to for the past 18 weeks. After a week of slow recovery, he begins to focusing on short, fast runs. Instead of working on long endurance, you train your body to do short, fast bursts.
The Advanced program involves some great training tools once a week for four weeks:
Tempo runs - starting slow, building to race pace, then slowing back down, during the course of a 30 to 50 minute run.
400-meter speed intervals - on the track, doing a lap at 5K pace, then jogging a lap, and repeating four to eight times.
One-mile intervals - running three one-mile intervals at a designated pace, the first week at marathon pace, but the fourth week at 5K pace.
Mr. Higdon suggests a 5K race after four weeks of this training and it really is a perfect way to start a new season of running. I have gotten a few PRs at some of these first post-marathon 5Ks (and have come close in others), so it is worth putting in the work - and it is hard work at times.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Return to the scene of the awesomeness
The Central Park Marathon was a triumph, no question. And it was never more clearly evident than in the painstaking three miles I tried to run on Thursday. I was sore in all the right ways, but after three days of rest, I was simply not ready to get back out there and shuffled along at an 8+ minute pace.
So I took Friday off and tried again on Saturday to do three miles with less pain and a 7:34 pace. I can not say it felt great, but it felt right.
Sunday, however, was the day it starting falling back into place. And it was at the scene of the awesomeness a week before - Central Park.
Karen and I had stayed over in New York City after attending a preview of the new Broadway musical 'Hands on a Hardbody' (more about that in my next post!), and I was positively excited about running for fun in Central Park.
It was about a mile to the park from the hotel and I took it at a decent pace. Once on the park road, I was surprised to see so many other runners at 7:00 on a cold Sunday morning (29 degrees, cloudy and windy).
A few minutes later I heard what sounded like a swarm of bees coming up behind me. It was, in fact, a pack of cyclists in a bicycle race that was being held. As they whizzed past me, I was in awe of how fast they went and how close together they rode. Scary.
I decided to go all the way up to the Harlem hills that I heard so much about and we were able to avoid at the race a week earlier (we turned at the 102nd Street transverse). The hills were not that bad, but the thought of doing them multiple times was not pleasant.
Up that far north, I only saw one other runner. I wished her a good morning and she replied, "Good morning...looks like we're the only two people out here today." I assured her that there were plenty of others, but they were all farther south. I guess most people avoid those hills, race or otherwise.
Curving around to the west side, I found myself picking up speed in my sixth mile. The memory of last week was so vivid, I could not wipe the smile off my face.
By the time I got back on the streets, now in my eighth mile, I felt like I could run another marathon. It was the utter joy of running taking over.
One week later in Central Park, I am a new man, yet very much the man I was years ago when discovering distance running for the first time.
So I took Friday off and tried again on Saturday to do three miles with less pain and a 7:34 pace. I can not say it felt great, but it felt right.
Sunday, however, was the day it starting falling back into place. And it was at the scene of the awesomeness a week before - Central Park.
Karen and I had stayed over in New York City after attending a preview of the new Broadway musical 'Hands on a Hardbody' (more about that in my next post!), and I was positively excited about running for fun in Central Park.
It was about a mile to the park from the hotel and I took it at a decent pace. Once on the park road, I was surprised to see so many other runners at 7:00 on a cold Sunday morning (29 degrees, cloudy and windy).
A few minutes later I heard what sounded like a swarm of bees coming up behind me. It was, in fact, a pack of cyclists in a bicycle race that was being held. As they whizzed past me, I was in awe of how fast they went and how close together they rode. Scary.
I decided to go all the way up to the Harlem hills that I heard so much about and we were able to avoid at the race a week earlier (we turned at the 102nd Street transverse). The hills were not that bad, but the thought of doing them multiple times was not pleasant.
Up that far north, I only saw one other runner. I wished her a good morning and she replied, "Good morning...looks like we're the only two people out here today." I assured her that there were plenty of others, but they were all farther south. I guess most people avoid those hills, race or otherwise.
Curving around to the west side, I found myself picking up speed in my sixth mile. The memory of last week was so vivid, I could not wipe the smile off my face.
By the time I got back on the streets, now in my eighth mile, I felt like I could run another marathon. It was the utter joy of running taking over.
One week later in Central Park, I am a new man, yet very much the man I was years ago when discovering distance running for the first time.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Central Park Marathon Official Results and Photos
When I finished the Central Park Marathon on Sunday, I had no idea how I placed. It was hard to tell what my standing was because some people I passed and who passed me were a lap behind or ahead of me and some were in the half-marathon.
Imagine my surprise then, when I saw that I came in 10th place out of 318 marathon runners!
Official results are at www.NYCRuns.com and official photos are at: www.kenshelton.com
I have only bought a race photo once before, but I think I might buy my finishing photo from this race. It is a great shot and it will help preserve the proud memory of an excellent race.
Imagine my surprise then, when I saw that I came in 10th place out of 318 marathon runners!
Official results are at www.NYCRuns.com and official photos are at: www.kenshelton.com
I have only bought a race photo once before, but I think I might buy my finishing photo from this race. It is a great shot and it will help preserve the proud memory of an excellent race.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Central Park Marathon
Want to know what I did on Saturday?
Nothing.
Well, almost nothing. After a quick three-mile last-minute tuneup run in the chilly rain (at a 6:53 pace, thank you), I did my usual crunches and dumbell exercises, then I took a hot bubble bath, soaking in it for almost 45 minutes. I sat on the couch and watched movies. I ate my own home-cooked pasta dinner.
This was probably the only time that I could do my pre-marathon rituals in my own home, sleeping in my own bed, eating my usual pre-long-run cereal in the morning after a so-so night's sleep (better than most marathons, but not the deep sleep for which I was hoping). Because my marathons are destination races (even the NJ Marathon required a hotel the night before), yesterday's Central Park Marathon in New York City was essentially my hometown marathon.
So after my cereal and a few trips to the bathroom, I was in the car and heading to Manhattan. Within a half-hour, I was parking my car on W. 68th Street, practically across the street from the entrance at Central Park West where the finish line would be. I picked up my race shirt, checked my bag, hit the bathroom one more time (a triple-poop morning usually makes for a great race), and headed to the starting line. No hassles, no worries, just focusing on the 26.2 miles at hand. This is why I like small marathons.
Placing myself at the front of the pack at the starting line near the E. 72nd Street transverse, I felt a great deal of confidence come over me. As I embarked on the first of five counter-clockwise loops through Central Park, with a long, steady hill leading up toward the 102nd Street transverse where we turned inward toward the west side, I thought about how confident I was at the beginning of the previous two races. And those did not turn out well.
I convinced myself that it was no matter because I did everything right this time - I did not overeat on Saturday, I had my breakast a full two hours before the race, and I did not take the Advil that I now believe was the culprit in December.
The goal, then, was to run the race for which I trained - a 7:01 pace with as 3:03:00 finish.
At first, I was running too fast. I checked my stopwatch every mile, and with each mile I saw more and more of a cushion. By the fifth mile I was up by about 30 seconds. That doesn't seem like a lot, I know, but it translates to six seconds per mile faster than my goal pace. You do not sustain that kind of increase for 26 miles, so I pulled back.
On the second of the roughly five-mile loops, I bounded up the east-side uphills at a swift and effortless pace, but took a relaxed approach to the west side downhills. By the time I hit the finish area for a second time, I was exactly on target.
Up the big hill again, I passed several people. Hill training paying off. I was feeling great, but not quite invincible. The stomach problems in Delaware began in the 13th mile; in Narragansett, the seventeenth. If I was to persevere, I still needed to keep myself in check. Yet despite taking the downhill at an extremely relaxed pace, I was still right on pace for my goal.
Though I had to work at it the fourth time, I still surprised myself on the hill. As much as I hate doing hill training, I know it kept working its magic yesterday. But I had pulled back too much on the flats and gentle inclines and declines, losing a few seconds through the 14th, 15th, and 16th miles, so by the time I got to the 102nd Street transverse again, around Mile 17, I was behind by closer to a minute.
Still, I felt fantastic. Rather than push it, I reset my goal. Instead of trying to make up time, I decided to try not to lose any more time. So I kept shooting for 7:01 miles.
At first, it worked, but once I hit Mile 20 and heading uphill again, there was no way for that to happen. I am still proud of myself for pushing up that hill for the last time and ending up with a 7:15 for that mile, but I was set back by more than a minute by then. No PR would be had, I was sure of it. But a second-best was in the cards. Just had to stanch the flow of the seconds that kept bleeding away, mile after mile.
At the fifth cross of the finish area, in Mile 24, before a short loop that cut through the 72nd Street transverse, I saw my parents, and that gave me the boost I needed to defy the fatigue that was now setting into my leg muscles.
Pushing into overdrive, heedless of the pain consuming my legs, I surged. Mile 26 was partially uphill. No matter. Push. Push. Push.
I hit the finish line, to the cheering of my parents, at 3:06:28. My third best marathon ever - just behind Missoula by 13 seconds, and behind Kansas by a minute and 47 seconds.
My confidence is restored. I feel like a real marathon runner again. Who knew that I could have such an amazing marathon experience so close to home. This is my return to form. I am back.
Nothing.
Well, almost nothing. After a quick three-mile last-minute tuneup run in the chilly rain (at a 6:53 pace, thank you), I did my usual crunches and dumbell exercises, then I took a hot bubble bath, soaking in it for almost 45 minutes. I sat on the couch and watched movies. I ate my own home-cooked pasta dinner.
This was probably the only time that I could do my pre-marathon rituals in my own home, sleeping in my own bed, eating my usual pre-long-run cereal in the morning after a so-so night's sleep (better than most marathons, but not the deep sleep for which I was hoping). Because my marathons are destination races (even the NJ Marathon required a hotel the night before), yesterday's Central Park Marathon in New York City was essentially my hometown marathon.
So after my cereal and a few trips to the bathroom, I was in the car and heading to Manhattan. Within a half-hour, I was parking my car on W. 68th Street, practically across the street from the entrance at Central Park West where the finish line would be. I picked up my race shirt, checked my bag, hit the bathroom one more time (a triple-poop morning usually makes for a great race), and headed to the starting line. No hassles, no worries, just focusing on the 26.2 miles at hand. This is why I like small marathons.
Placing myself at the front of the pack at the starting line near the E. 72nd Street transverse, I felt a great deal of confidence come over me. As I embarked on the first of five counter-clockwise loops through Central Park, with a long, steady hill leading up toward the 102nd Street transverse where we turned inward toward the west side, I thought about how confident I was at the beginning of the previous two races. And those did not turn out well.
I convinced myself that it was no matter because I did everything right this time - I did not overeat on Saturday, I had my breakast a full two hours before the race, and I did not take the Advil that I now believe was the culprit in December.
The goal, then, was to run the race for which I trained - a 7:01 pace with as 3:03:00 finish.
At first, I was running too fast. I checked my stopwatch every mile, and with each mile I saw more and more of a cushion. By the fifth mile I was up by about 30 seconds. That doesn't seem like a lot, I know, but it translates to six seconds per mile faster than my goal pace. You do not sustain that kind of increase for 26 miles, so I pulled back.
On the second of the roughly five-mile loops, I bounded up the east-side uphills at a swift and effortless pace, but took a relaxed approach to the west side downhills. By the time I hit the finish area for a second time, I was exactly on target.
Up the big hill again, I passed several people. Hill training paying off. I was feeling great, but not quite invincible. The stomach problems in Delaware began in the 13th mile; in Narragansett, the seventeenth. If I was to persevere, I still needed to keep myself in check. Yet despite taking the downhill at an extremely relaxed pace, I was still right on pace for my goal.
Though I had to work at it the fourth time, I still surprised myself on the hill. As much as I hate doing hill training, I know it kept working its magic yesterday. But I had pulled back too much on the flats and gentle inclines and declines, losing a few seconds through the 14th, 15th, and 16th miles, so by the time I got to the 102nd Street transverse again, around Mile 17, I was behind by closer to a minute.
Still, I felt fantastic. Rather than push it, I reset my goal. Instead of trying to make up time, I decided to try not to lose any more time. So I kept shooting for 7:01 miles.
At first, it worked, but once I hit Mile 20 and heading uphill again, there was no way for that to happen. I am still proud of myself for pushing up that hill for the last time and ending up with a 7:15 for that mile, but I was set back by more than a minute by then. No PR would be had, I was sure of it. But a second-best was in the cards. Just had to stanch the flow of the seconds that kept bleeding away, mile after mile.
At the fifth cross of the finish area, in Mile 24, before a short loop that cut through the 72nd Street transverse, I saw my parents, and that gave me the boost I needed to defy the fatigue that was now setting into my leg muscles.
Pushing into overdrive, heedless of the pain consuming my legs, I surged. Mile 26 was partially uphill. No matter. Push. Push. Push.
I hit the finish line, to the cheering of my parents, at 3:06:28. My third best marathon ever - just behind Missoula by 13 seconds, and behind Kansas by a minute and 47 seconds.
My confidence is restored. I feel like a real marathon runner again. Who knew that I could have such an amazing marathon experience so close to home. This is my return to form. I am back.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Central Park Marathon in three days
I really have no desire to run the New York City Marathon. People keep asking me when I am going to do it, but I tell them that if I ever do, it will be the last one and a long time from now; my victory lap after many years of marathon running.
Besides, New York is a big state and there are plenty of choices to check it off my list as I strive to run a marathon in every state. There is one in the Wappingers Falls area that piqued my interest as well as the Hamptons Marathon that is sure to be nice.
It's funny, then, that my next marathon, only three days from now, is going to be in New York City after all.
A few months ago, a co-worker and fellow runner told me about this new marathon that was being planned in Central Park - a back-to-basics alternative to the big, crazy tourist spectacle of the annual November race that attracts more than 40,000 runners and winds through every borough in the city.
This new February race would be five laps through the interior of Central Park. That is it. Simple, kind of boring, and no frills.
After the debacle of the December marathon in Delaware, in which I got sick and posted my worst time ever, I jumped right back into marathon training, not something I usually do. Typically, I will rest for a few days then concentrate on short races for a few months. This time, I was right back to doing long runs with my eye tentatively on this NYC race, but figuring that I would eventually burn out and back out of a marathon that was only two months after the previous one.
But I never burned out. In fact, I got stronger. Those runs on the D&R Canal inspired me. And even the brutal 20 milers through the mountainous hills in the Caldwells, Cedar Grove, and Montclair left me confident.
So, after once again putting in the work - hill sprints, speed intervals, tempo runs, three 20-milers - of the "Advanced I" program at HalHigdon.com, I find myself ready to run my eighth marathon. It will be cold and windy on Sunday, but that is OK. I decided that this is my "reset" race. No preconceived ideals, no gunning for a personal record, just getting out there and running 26.2 miles to the best of my ability without getting sick or hitting the wall.
For that, I am ready.
Besides, New York is a big state and there are plenty of choices to check it off my list as I strive to run a marathon in every state. There is one in the Wappingers Falls area that piqued my interest as well as the Hamptons Marathon that is sure to be nice.
It's funny, then, that my next marathon, only three days from now, is going to be in New York City after all.
A few months ago, a co-worker and fellow runner told me about this new marathon that was being planned in Central Park - a back-to-basics alternative to the big, crazy tourist spectacle of the annual November race that attracts more than 40,000 runners and winds through every borough in the city.
This new February race would be five laps through the interior of Central Park. That is it. Simple, kind of boring, and no frills.
After the debacle of the December marathon in Delaware, in which I got sick and posted my worst time ever, I jumped right back into marathon training, not something I usually do. Typically, I will rest for a few days then concentrate on short races for a few months. This time, I was right back to doing long runs with my eye tentatively on this NYC race, but figuring that I would eventually burn out and back out of a marathon that was only two months after the previous one.
But I never burned out. In fact, I got stronger. Those runs on the D&R Canal inspired me. And even the brutal 20 milers through the mountainous hills in the Caldwells, Cedar Grove, and Montclair left me confident.
So, after once again putting in the work - hill sprints, speed intervals, tempo runs, three 20-milers - of the "Advanced I" program at HalHigdon.com, I find myself ready to run my eighth marathon. It will be cold and windy on Sunday, but that is OK. I decided that this is my "reset" race. No preconceived ideals, no gunning for a personal record, just getting out there and running 26.2 miles to the best of my ability without getting sick or hitting the wall.
For that, I am ready.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
At the Roxy, 20 years later
I would be remiss, as an avid Phish fan, not to mention in this space that today is the 20th anniversary of what is arguably one of the best Phish shows of all time at The Roxy in Atlanta.
It is possibly the best show Phish ever performed up to that point, and they had been around almost a decade by then. And while it certainly ranks up among most Phish fans' top ten lists, I would say it could be the greatest non-holiday show in Phishtory.
It is that good. If you are even a casual Phish listener, but you have never heard it, take my advice and listen to Feb. 20, 1993 - it is part of the boxed set called 'At the Roxy'.
For the rest of the Phish fans, you already know what I am talking about.
I know I will never forget hearing the tape of the show (before it was officially released). It was sometime in the mid-90s and friend Ali mailed me the tape of Set II. I promised to give it a live review - emailing her my reaction to it as I listened for the first time. When the insanity ensued, my email started filling up with exclamation points and "BEST SHOW EVER" proclamations. I wish I still had that email.
It is possibly the best show Phish ever performed up to that point, and they had been around almost a decade by then. And while it certainly ranks up among most Phish fans' top ten lists, I would say it could be the greatest non-holiday show in Phishtory.
It is that good. If you are even a casual Phish listener, but you have never heard it, take my advice and listen to Feb. 20, 1993 - it is part of the boxed set called 'At the Roxy'.
For the rest of the Phish fans, you already know what I am talking about.
I know I will never forget hearing the tape of the show (before it was officially released). It was sometime in the mid-90s and friend Ali mailed me the tape of Set II. I promised to give it a live review - emailing her my reaction to it as I listened for the first time. When the insanity ensued, my email started filling up with exclamation points and "BEST SHOW EVER" proclamations. I wish I still had that email.
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