7: Running the Year . . . and Then Some!

Polar Inspiration

Lake Monroe Polar Bear Plunge.
Bloomington, Indiana, January 1, 2012.

On January 1, 2012, I stood at the shore of Lake Monroe in Southern Indiana. As winter days go, it wasn't bad -- mid-30's under overcast skies. I was appropriately clad in my 5-fingers, running shorts, and swim goggles. This is where the marathon bug bit me.

Our friend, Julie, said that she had recently completed a marathon. Of course, I was impressed. But I knew she was a runner, so I wasn't entirely surprised. Then she made a statement and unwittingly planted the seed of an idea that would grow in my brain over the next several months as I was continuing to feel more comfortable with my running preparations for the triathlon: "I had decided I wanted to complete another marathon before turning 50."With that, I and the other crazies charge into the frigid waters, emerging invigorated and energized for the coming year . . . and COLD.

A year later, as I stood near that same spot on the shore of Lake Monroe, I was still a few months short of my 50th birthday, had completed two marathons, and was looking at the prospect of a 50 km event in the coming year and quite possible a 50-miler. Julie turned to my wife, Irene, and proclaimed that she "never said anything about ULTRAS!"

The Training Wrap-Around: Running the Year

As I approached the beginning of 2013, I found myself again recasting my training plan. This time, I was looking for a method through which I could increase my stamina for running. I wanted to give myself a reasonable chance of completing a 50 km (31.1 miles) run early in the summer, after which I would assess if I thought the legs could eventually carry me for 50 miles in the fall. With my brain being such as it is, I enjoy setting both long-term and short-term goals. In fact, I have often referred to my various experimentations in running as part of "the game," be it form, equipment, or training. Then, somewhat out of the blue, I came to the notion of running the year - 2,013 miles. In the latter part of of 2012, as I zeroed in on the first two marathons, I had recorded several weeks of more than 40 miles of running. Expecting that my distance would ramp up at peak times of the year, I determined that the necessary weekly average of 38.61 miles of running was doable. So I built a default training pattern with 5 running days per week (Monday and Friday off to allow for rest and/or cross-training), including a long run on Saturday, a short follow-up run on Sunday, and a low-medium-low mileage arc on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. Finally, I went to work on the spreadsheet to keep track of it all.

Once the initial form of the spreadsheet was complete, it still needed the finishing touch -- some pizzazz to show that it's a little professional, and a little fun, and more than just a data grid -- a LOGO. I'll be honest with you, I had heard vaguely of people running the number of miles in the year, but had not realized that there was an entire web-community of crazy companions to be found. I quickly identified the "Run This Year" group on Facebook and have enjoyed the encouragements that the group has provided.

Progress Through The Year

As I began my year of running, the legs were feeling quite good and I exceeded my 171-mile January target by nearly 30 miles. I decided that this was a good thing. Surely, across the year there would be times that I would not feel well or would run into scheduling difficulties. So I decided that building up a cushion of extra miles was a good strategy. February came and I racked up an extra 26 miles; 35 more in March; and, nearly 50 extras in April. The fact is, as of this blog entry, I have not felt bad or had an injury all year! Travels in June had a small impact, but the miles I did run in Colorado were beautiful! So now, as of the end of September, I am 365 miles ahead of the original target that would have had me on pace for running the year, and I am expecting to log mile #2,013 when I cross the finish line of the Indianapolis Marathon on October 19! Needless to say, I have mapped out a short-term training plan to hit that mileage target precisely.

As the year progressed, I even decided on a secondary goal for my running miles -- accumulate enough miles to have traveled from my current home in Indiana to my undergraduate alma mater, Western Washington University in Bellingham, Washington -- 2,378 miles. If that was my "Run This Year" target, I believe I would be living at some time close to the time frame of Star Trek: Voyager.

Finally, just in case anyone were to question the level of my insanity (or why my wife feels that it is appropriate to hold me up as an example of "Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder" for her Abnormal Psychology classes), this is what the results of my spreadsheet currently look like:

Postscript (October 21, 2013)

Since first posting this item, I am pleased to report that I did, indeed cross the finish line of the Indianapolis Marathon on October 19 as I completed mile 2,013.

Up next: Finding Form: How I Learned a Stride That Keeps Running FUN

6: Evolution of a Running Fool

In sports I have always thought of myself as a bit of a technician, trying to pay attention to form based on what I knew, or at least what I thought I knew. And, as I have never been a particularly swift runner, I have long assumed that will remain the case. Therefore, beyond breathing, my form could be described as "putting one foot in front of the other," or, "remain upright and moving forward for the prescribed distance." That is as technical as I generally got. After all, I had been "running" my entire life.

Running as a Non-Runner

In high school, I ran a fair amount. As a wrestler, it was one of the quickest ways to start a sweat in order to make weight. A very unhealthy approach to weight management, I would add. Similarly, in college, I ran quite a bit. As a shot put and discus thrower, running is an essential part of the training routine. But thighs that squat more than three times one's body weight are generally not conducive to "runner's legs." I was able to clock a 5:30 mile -- once! -- through shear brute force, but it was not a pretty sight. Recreationally, running was a nice way to blow off steam during a late-night study session.

As a young professional with small children, running emerged as the most accessible form of exercise. I could do it over lunch. This was handy, I surmised, since I had an hour commute each way to work. I was gone for a good chunk of the day and somehow figured out that my wife would probably not appreciate it if I was gone even longer to go to the gym. I ran with a co-worker or two and enjoyed the company much more than the activity. Over the course of time, I entered the Indianapolis 500 "mini marathon" 10 times, each year training toward the singular completion of a 13.1 mile jog to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway and back. If you had told me then that a half marathon would eventually be a "short" weekend run, I would not have believed you.

A few of my "minis" felt good. Most did not. Typically, my legs were so shot afterwards that to get into the car I needed to sit on the edge of the seat and help my legs in by lifting them with my hands. This pattern, I deduced, was not an indicator of successful training.

My equipment was basic and cheap. I wore shoes that I found on sale. And, after my first bout of severe "chaffage" of the thighs, I began to wear bicycling-type shorts.

Thus with such a glowing description of my running experiences, it is easy to see why I preferred the bicycle.

Was I really "Born to Run"?

With the summer of 2009, as I embarked on the path to regaining fitness, I generally avoided running as a major component of my fitness regimen. For the cardio components of my workouts, I generally stuck to the bicycle or the elliptical machines. By the time I came into the "Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenges," I could no longer avoid running. Fortunately, I had lost enough weight that it was at least no worse than I remembered. 

Late in the summer of 2011, my transformation was to begin in earnest. Having successfully rehabbed after rotator cuff surgery, I was in a slow build-up in my training for an Olympic distance triathlon.

Cue the brother.

It was my brother, Ken, who had turned me on to the Body-for-Life program that had worked so well for bringing me back into better shape. This time, he told me about a book called "Born to Run." When I got home, I picked up a copy and leafed through it, declaring to myself that it seemed "mildly interesting" and I would try to read it more thoroughly at a later time. But then, as I prepared for a long drive from Indiana to Pennsylvania (and back) at the end of the summer, I picked up the audio version. By the end of the drive, I had upgraded my assessment of the book to "awesome," and "life changing." I even tried to change up my stride on a couple of trail runs while in Pennsylvania. I knew that I needed a lot more work, but it felt good! I decided that I was going to embark on a journey to learn how to run.

While the entire book is an excellent read, there are two statements in particular that have stuck with me. First, (paraphrasing) "one of the things that the modern running shoe does best is it masks pain, allowing the runner to press further into an injury before recognizing what is happening." This resonated with me, and I knew that I needed to learn to listen to what my body would tell me. The second quote that has stuck with me is from one of the main characters in the book, Caballo Blanco. "If you can't decide whether to take one or two steps between rocks, take three." As I have come to enjoy trail running, this advice has served me well. To me, it means keep your feet under you. Don't over-stride or over-commit to an uncertain landing.

Arriving home, I went to local shoe store and selected a pair of Vibram 5-fingers. I would carefully integrate the minimalist/barefoot technique into my training for the triathlon. Taking heed from "Born to Run"and from the pamphlet supplied with my 5-fingers, I eased into barefoot "style" running carefully, trying to give my feet and the rest of me a proper break-in period. My new-found technique set my calf muscles on fire! Message received. I adjusted my stride more toward the midfoot from the forefoot.

Over the coming months, I slowly tweaked my running form through drills and a slow build of miles. Eventually, I determined that the toe separation of the 5-fingers wasn't always the most comfortable situation and I quickly came to enjoy the feel of the Merrell Trail Glove. Training toward the triathlon, this became my primary shoe and I built my mileage up to the 10 km distance that would be the third leg of the race.

By the time I had completed the triathlon in June of 2012, I had convinced myself that a "Marathon before 50" would in fact be the next Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge. Conveniently, it was 21 weeks until the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon. I overlayed an 18-week "novice" marathon prep program from Hal Higdon's web site onto my training plan and I was on my way.

As my training miles slowly climbed, I determined that I needed to spend some time on the trail in preparation for Marathon #2 -- The Tecumseh Trail Marathon -- set for December. The transitional running experience I had while preparing for the triathlon had convinced me that I could in fact run, albeit slowly, and have fun at it. Eventually, I would develop a mindset that the Monumental was a "training run" leading toward the Tecumseh. While I recognize that doing your first two marathons a mere four weeks apart may not be recommended by most, it seemed to work for me. Since endurance was far more important than speed, I found that my training plan resulted in a good recovery after the long runs.

Finding the Right Shoes for Me

On my first major foray into the trails, I lost my first toenails to running -- three of them!. (I am pleased to say that I have still not added to this number, paying close attention to shoe fit, good socks, and personal pedicure technique, and, by shear luck, not jamming my toes into trail roots or other such obstacles.) I lost the toenails because I was afraid of the trail. Instead of my usual minimalist running shoes, I wore a more substantial hiking shoe. I was looking at this as more of a day hike than a run as a means to become acquainted with the terrain of the Tecumseh Trail Marathon, so it seemed to make sense the night before. But the hiking shoes did not cradle the foot well and my toes were continually pushed to the front of the toe box. I did another such trail exploration the following weekend wearing the Merrells and had no problems. What I did experience, however, was that wearing a minimal shoe on such varied and uneven terrain meant that the bottoms of my feet felt like they took quite a beating. After a few more such outings, I determined that so many footfalls under my 225-pound frame needed a bit more protection. I was fine up to about 10 miles in the Merrells, but beyond that, it seemed that the bottoms of my feet took about three days before returning to comfort.

So, I identified the components of the shoes that I thought would support my "evolved" running form: wide toe box, firm midfoot cradle, and little or no heel drop. I started with a pair of Brooks Pure Connect shoes that I used in the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon with reasonable success, but the toe box felt too narrow for the shape of my particular foot. I then presented my experience and preferences to the folks at the Indiana Running Company and came away with a shiny new pair of Altra "Instincts," which, even though they are a road shoe, served me quite nicely in the Tecumseh Trail Marathon. Later adding a pair of "Superiors" to my rotation, each pair of Altras lasted nearly 500 miles for me.

Having found Fun, Form, and Footwear in the process of the success of my third "Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge," and with the completion of my first marathon (three, actually!) before the 50th birthday, I looked forward to 2013 with a happy "what's next?" attitude.

Completing my first marathon. Indianapolis Monumental Marathon, November 3, 2012.

At the second marathon, the Tecumseh Trail, on December 1, 2012, I learned to not worry about the time and look at the finish line photographer like I'm actually having fun.

 Up Next: Running the Year . . . and Then Some!

5: Just Breathe!

Breathing is one of those physiological functions that generally happens without having to think about it. It is controlled by the autonomic nervous system so it continues whether you are awake or asleep. Unlike most other autonomic functions, however, breathing can be controlled, or at least modified, consciously. Of course, there are people far more qualified to talk about breathing than I am, but I would like to share what has worked for me. I'll focus on three aspects of breathing: intake, expansion, and cadence. I will address each of these very simply. For a more expert analysis, please consider the book "Running on Air..." referenced at the bottom of this post.

Each of these aspects of breathing is particularly important to me as an asthmatic. If I am in control of my breathing, I am less likely to suffer an asthma attack during exertion. I will also add that my asthma is "allergy induced." I have learned that, in my case, if I am in good respiratory health, the efficiency of air exchange seems to help purge the problem particles more readily, thus minimizing their catalytic effects in my lungs. Unfortunately, I cannot eliminate the concern entirely without help. Under my doctors care, I take minimal medications, and I always make sure I have a rescue inhaler with me.

Intake

Various articles I have read will suggest that a relaxed breathing pattern during which you inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth is recommended. On the inhale, breathing through the nose provides at least two functional benefits: filtration, and moderation. Even if you don't suffer from asthma or allergies, in certain parts of the country and at prime seasonal times, the dusts, pollens, and other contaminants can at the very least be an irritant. Breathing through your nose will at least catch more of it than through the mouth. To be honest, though, it is hard for me to breathe entirely through my nose when running. Even the mildest of congestion can make it feel like I am breathing through a straw. I continue to work on it and try mainly to keep a smooth, relaxed, airflow.

As for moderation, quite simply, it is hard to "gasp" through your nose. Obviously, if you are suffering from a sinus malady, you will need to be smart with what you do and otherwise improvise. On the exhale, moderation is also useful. For example, you might ease the air out through pursed lips, allowing more oxygen to be absorbed in the capillaries of the lungs before it is expelled. The pattern should be relaxed; deep enough to get the oxygen you need, but not so long or shallow that you get light-headed.

Expansion

There are chest breathers and there are stomach breathers. Read "Running on Air" and you will find some excellent exercises to help identify how you breathe and train you to be a "stomach breather."

By personal observation, chest breathing is just more work. When you take air into your lungs, they are going to expand either out or down. Allowing the diaphragm and abdominal muscles to to relax lets the lungs expand down into a soft tissue area of the torso. The displacement may push the stomach area out just a bit in the normal process. If you hold your lower abdomen tight, however, your lungs can only expand through chest expansion, which is a much more forced process. Instead of allowing the air to flow in through the downward expansion, a chest breather almost pulls air in with a much more laborious movement. Breathing should fuel your energy, not deplete it, and stomach breathing allows for a more relaxed process.

Cadence: My Respiration Efficiency Zone

When I was younger, I swam competitively for many years. During that time, my asthma was nearly non-existent. In retrospect, I believe that the controlled, rhythmic breathing employed while swimming was the key to building lung capacity and respiratory efficiency. Some swimming strategists might suggest that taking more strokes between breaths keeps you streamlined in the water for longer periods of time, or that bilateral breathing (alternating which side you breathe from) allows you to keep track of the competition. While they may be right to some extent, ultimately it is the efficiency of breathing coupled with a developed lung capacity that provides the necessary oxygen for the blood to fuel the muscles to preform at their peak. Streamline and strategy will only get you so far if you run out of steam.

In running, I have learned that counting my steps keeps me focused and in control. I set my pace based on a sustainable breathing pattern more than on running speed. So far, my magic pattern is 4:4. 4 steps on the inhale; 4 steps on the exhale. This is also pretty close to a conversational cadence for me, and I can generally sustain this pace for as long as the legs will hold up. I can go to a 3:3 pattern on a hard push or a hill climb, but I know that I won't last long and will need to get back to the 4:4 to get back into my groove. Think of it like heart-rate training. You find the zone for you that provides for metabolic efficiency and the optimum fueling for strength and endurance. Push beyond that for too long, and your metabolism might shift enough to bring on the dreaded "bonk." So for me, the 4:4 breathing pattern is what I might call my "Respiration Efficiency Zone." If I cross over to a 3:3, I'm inviting an "air bonk." At 2:2, I'm on the verge of hyperventilating. I might be able to hold that pattern for a 100-yard dash, but not much more. At 4:4, I think that the filtering mechanisms are able to do their job effectively, and that the air is coming in long enough and deeply enough to facilitate a good oxygen absorption. I have experimented with 5:5, 5:4, and even 4:3 breathing cadences, but mostly, it is too distracting. 4:4 is like a nice simple dance step -- easy to follow without stepping on toes.

I came to my 4:4 pattern as a means of coping with asthma while running. What I had not considered is that this balanced cadence could actually contribute to injury. In "Running on Air," Dr. Coates recommends a 3:2 breathing pattern. The offset of the pattern allows for each successive exhale to begin on alternating right-left foot strikes. Because the beginning of the exhale tends to emphasize a more forceful foot strike, the idea is to share that stress across both feet instead of always on one. I'll need to continue working on this.

...and an excellent resource:

Coates, B. & Kowalchick, C. (2103). Running on Air: The Revolutionary Way to Run Better By Breathing Smarter. Rodale: New York.

This book was also excerpted in April, 2013, issue of Runner's World.


Up Next: Evolution of a Running Fool

4: Mind, Body, and Spirit

(C) YMCA

The old YMCA logo gets it. Each side of the mind-body-spirit triad supports and strengthens the other two. We can't separate who we are from what we do. So, when I ultimately decided that my next “Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge” was to complete a marathon, I knew that there was more to it than just a lot of running. Fitness in general, and running in particular would become a spiritual sanctuary. I would study the act of running, trying to figure out what works best for me. And, ultimately, I would transform my body to endure distances and times (length of time, not speed, in my case) that I never dreamed it could do. Getting to the decision that I could do a marathon, though, was probably tougher than the actual race. Eventually, I would not merely transform what I could do physically, but I would embrace it wholeheartedly.

Finding a Frame of Mind to Mind My Frame

I knew I was overweight, and I had a pretty good idea as to how much. However, I tend to carry my weight throughout the whole body, and as a result, if the subject of weight came up in conversation, friends did not believe that I was as heavy as I had become. They just knew that I was big, but I knew that I was too big -- by far. Even so, I don't think it fully registered for me how far from fit I had fallen – until Memorial Day, 2009. We were boating with some friends and I was invited to don a set of skis. So, “Moby Jeff, the Great White Male” (see photo at left) got ready to suit up. I pulled out a men's extra large safety vest, let out the straps and put it on. Then, I actually tucked my sides into the apparatus. Ugh! I was able to get up on the skis, but the entire time, I was reliving the motion of how I had to get into the ski vest. I vowed that I would not repeat that motion the next year.

The Shape of Things to Come: My 1-2-3 Kick Start

My Memorial Day experience was the push that finally led me to the gym. It took me a few weeks, but I finally got there. Initially, I started with the simple goal of getting in shape. I would go to the gym at least 3 days a week with interspersed outings for a bicycle ride or (gasp!) a jog. I was  able to approach my new plan with what I decided was a good frame of mind. While I knew that weight is the easiest measure to track, it can be easily frustrating. So, as an asthmatic with a family history of heart disease, my principle goals focused on things like peak-flow breathing capacity, blood pressure, resting heart rate, and cholesterol. The weight, I determined, would take care of itself. Now, I just needed to get to the gym.

My second push came in much more pleasant fashion. As “Moby Jeff” finally started going to the gym, wisely, I determined that I would take it easy with the weights and just focus on the fact that I was there at all. (Injury, it turns out, I would save for later.) Even so, it was frustrating to recognize how little I could lift compared to what I used to be able to do. A few days into my new-found resolve, I was already losing my motivation, when I started talking with a friend who worked at the campus rec sports center. She said, “It takes six weeks to make it a habit.” Challenge accepted! Six weeks later, I was down almost 15 pounds, and already feeling much better. But I knew that I would need to add structure if I was going to push past feeling like exercise was a chore. And I would probably need to think about a better eating plan.

The final kick came from my brother. While visiting family, he and I talked about various fitness plans and I began to formulate what I thought could work for me. Ultimately, that would be based on the "Body for Life" plan. So I bought the book. Reading through, I decided that a bit of the book was a sales pitch for various supplements and meal replacements. But, ultimately, it was a plan that I could get into. With all due respect to the authors, here were my takeaways from the Body for Life book:

1. Think metabolism!Feed your metabolism, not your hunger.
2. Exercise doesn't have to be overwhelming to be effective. 20 to 30 minutes a day, alternating a cardio session with a weight session will do your body a great deal of good. The cardio sessions will build stamina, and the weight training will built strength and pump up the metabolism. For the first 12 weeks, I did the Body for Life workout plan described in the book. Then every 12 weeks, I would change it up with different exercises. With the genesis of the "Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge," each change of workout plan was crafted to better prepare the body for the coming challenge.
3. Get your heart rate up. Maintain intensity throughout the workout, whether cardio or strength, and your metabolism will keep cooking even after you are finished.
4. Eat several small meals across the day: Breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner, snack.
5. Proteins and carbohydrates work together to fuel the body and the metabolic process, so include a healthy mix of lean protein and complex carbohydrates with each meal.
6. Drink water! At least 8-10 cups per day. Have a full glass with each meal. (Ice water will actually stimulate the metabolism.) And ditch the soda -- diet or otherwise.
7. Avoid sugar and sugar substitutes as much as possible.
8. Set a menu! Now, I don't want to pretend to be a dietician, so I won't go into details. Everyone is different in what they like and what will be sustainable. For me, what I landed on was to try to keep the meals reasonably small (300-400 calories for breakfast and lunch; 500-700 for dinner) and the snacks around 200 or less. The food lists and structural diet recommendations in the Body for Life book were very helpful. The basic premise, as I understand it, is to keep the body in a processing mode rather than a storage mode (which can result from skipping meals). Sundays were a "free" day from both the gym and the diet, and in most cases, I was successful with moderation even then.

When I hit the gym in July 2009, I tipped the scales at 270 pounds. By Thanksgiving, I was 225. And, with my enthusiasm for my success, I was even invited to grace the pages of the faculty-staff  fitness calendar at the university (see mug shot, below). But, as I said earlier, weight was important, but not the primary focus. I was feeling good! Peak flow breathing capacity had steadily climbed, while my resting heart rate continually fell. And, when I later went to the doctor and had the routine blood work, my cholesterol levels, which had been bordering on problematic before, were noticeably improved. I knew that I was on the right track, but did not want to stop there. If I were to set a weight goal, I decided that if I could get to 208 using a healthy and sustainable change in lifestyle -- as opposed to "a diet" -- I would like to be less than "obese" on the BMI charts. (By the way, while I understand that BMI can be useful across a population, I have many concerns with BMI as and individual measure. There is just too much body-type variability.) And, finally, I can say that I have made it below the 208 mark. I refused to do anything drastic, because I wanted it to be sustainable, which would mean lowering my set point, not just hitting a mark. It took me 5 months to lose 45 pounds. The next 25 took almost 4 years.

Up Next: Just Breathe!

3: The Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge: Hitting Stride

I came up with the concept of the "Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge" because I know that I am very goal-oriented. If I was going to get myself back in shape, I couldn't set that as the goal. Although it did at least start the ball rolling, it's too vague. As I began to see success in general fitness, I knew that I needed more specific targets to make it interesting, motivational, and sustainable. As runners know, there is great motivation in paying an entry fee. I wasn't yet a runner, so I looked in other directions. I figured running might enter the fray at some point, but not yet.

Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge #1: Throw the Shot Put at a Master's Track Meet

Although it was approaching 30 years since I had picked up the 16 pound cannonball known as a shot put, I was feeling stronger as my fitness increased. Energized by helping my teenage daughter at practice, I determined that I would prepare for and enter a meet. So I began a transitional training program, integrating exercises that would prepare me for the explosive strength necessary to throw successfully and without injury. Running, of course, was in the mix as part of the balance between the cardio and strength exercises that had produced success in weight loss as well as other fitness measures (but more on that process in a future blog).

I targeted a regional Master's Track and Field meet at Taylor University in Northern Indiana, scheduled for February 12, 2011. I spent more than a year working on strength and technique, thoroughly enjoying the process and feeling good about the results. Then, on February 3rd, 2011, I tore the right rotator cuff. OUCH! I was getting set for my usual sets on the bench press, but all of the free-weight stations were in use. Opting for the available Smith Rack setup, I jumped in and started my reps, feeling quite good. If you are not familiar with the Smith Rack, it can sometimes be presented as a "safe" option. The bar is contained and travels a vertical track. Thus, it cannot fall (assuming you remember to set the stops at a level above your chest, which I did, thankfully). What it also does, however, is remove the need for a balanced technique as you move the bar. The weight will still go straight up even if you do most of your pushing with a single arm. This is what I did. In one smooth motion, I brought the bar down, and as I pushed it back up, I actually felt the shoulder come undone. I assumed it was a muscular injury and gave it a few days. When it didn't seem to feel any different, I went to a sports medicine clinic. After a couple sessions of massage and microtherapy, I told the doctor that it really felt like the pain was emanating from dead center in the shoulder rather from the deltoid, which is what we were focused on. With that, she said it was time to get an MRI, but now my scheduled track meet was a mere two days away. I asked if she thought I would do more damage if I threw, or if it would just hurt, promising to throw left-handed if I was likely to exacerbate the injury. She said it would hurt, taped me up, and away I went.

She was right about the pain. By the end of the day, I had thrown the shot put slightly shorter than I had anticipated before the injury. Despite the pain and shorter throws, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience -- and even garnered a silver medal for my efforts.  (Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, there were only two throwers in my age division. But even at full health, I would not have caught the other guy.) I left the meet with thoughts of one day returning to compete again.

The following week, the MRI confirmed a very complete tear of the rotator cuff, and surgery was scheduled to undo the damage.

Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge #2: Compete in an Olympic Distance Triathlon

Should you ever experience a rotator cuff injury, I have a recommendation: swim. As I progressed through physical therapy, my range of motion continued to improve and I was a model patient. But there was still a noticeable difference between my right and left shoulder movements. As I pondered what I would do next to challenge and motivate myself, I determined that it might be fun to alternate challenges between strength and endurance. Bear in mind that at this point, I was assuming that these challenges would be an annual event. With nearly a year to prepare, I decided on an Olympic distance triathlon, which includes a 1.5 km swim, 40 km bike ride, and 10 km run. This would present a challenging, yet doable, goal, wrapped in a nice training plan. As soon as the surgeon released me to swim, I hit the pool focusing on reach and form, switching up strokes to introduce variations in directional movement. I am convinced that my magic technique for rotator cuff recovery came from the backstroke. Now,with the exception of the surgery scars, you would never know I had been injured.

Preparing for the triathlon was grueling work. I loved it! I felt like an athlete again! I developed a training plan that included all three events plus supportive strength training. I felt great, even if exhausted, but ultimately, it caught up to me. I had registered for the "Muncie May Traithlon," Scheduled for May, 2012, but in March came down with a very bad and persistent respiratory infection. It knocked me off of my training plan for nearly 6 weeks. I was able to transfer to the June event, but still did not feel as well in June as I had back in March. It was a frustrating setback, but I moved forward.

The event itself was an interesting experience. And, despite doing some training days where I mimicked the mechanics of the race, there were two things that took me by surprise: blinding sun, and cramps. Due to logistics and cold weather, I was not able to swim in open water until the actual event -- or even at an outdoor pool. So it never really dawned on me that I might need tinted goggles instead of the clear ones that were serving me so well. On the outbound swim, all was fine, but once I rounded the buoy and headed back to shore -- East, into the morning sun -- I couldn't see anything. Correcting my tack about every 10 strokes, I am certain that I lengthened my swim as a result of all of my zigzagging. I couldn't even see the swimmers next to me. Eventually, I made landfall, transitioned to the bike, and had a good ride. When I got to the running segment, the cramps set it and it felt like my calves were in vices. After a very uneven final leg, which consisted of alternating between running until I couldn't take another step and then walking until I felt I had worked it out, I crossed the finish line. It's a good thing that my Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenges did not incorporate the expectation of a competitive finish. But at least I was finishing -- even if under great discomfort.

Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge #3: Complete a Marathon Before the 50th Birthday

Two things happened as I was training for the triathlon that, as it turns out, lead to my becoming a runner. First, on January 1, 2012, I participated in my first "Polar Bear Plunge." While there, I was chatting with a friend who I knew was a runner and had recently completed a marathon. She said she had run one many years before and decided to get another one in before her 50th birthday. You know how when you can't get a song out of your head, people refer to it as an "earworm?" Well, "Marathon before the 50th Birthday" became my earworm. Despite initially dismissing the idea as ridiculous for my 225-pound slow-moving frame, I couldn't shake the worm. Sure I could do a 10k, or even a half marathon. But a FULL marathon? Pshaw!

The second thing that happened truly took me by surprise. While training for the triathlon, I had come to enjoy running. I'll go into more details about how this happened in a future blog, but the upshot is that I had re-learned how to run. I ditched the jarring form that sent shockwaves with every footfall from my heels to my teeth, and it became such that when I returned home from a training run, I actually looked forward to the next run. So to answer my earworm, when the triathlon was in the books, I began looking for a marathon. I figured that even if I walked a fair amount, I should be able to stay ahead of the course closing times.

Finishing the triathlon, I had now passed my 49th birthday (April) and had 10 months to prepare for and complete a marathon before hitting 50. Since marathons are less frequent at the start of the calendar year, I found one in early December that I figured would give me time to train: The Tecumseh Trail Marathon. It's close to home, so I could train on the actual trail, so I figured it to be a good start. The only problem is that for a first marathon, you could say that it's a pretty tough course. So, on the advice of the good folks at the Indiana Running Company, I signed up for the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon, four weeks earlier than Tecumseh. Actually, I signed up for both.

Figuring I had built a decent training base after the triathlon, I moved into a Hal Higdon-inspired running program and began preparing in earnest for my first marathon. Knowing that I had thoughts of doing Tecumseh as well, I tried to get in some trail miles when I could. On one such outing, I decided to get a feel for the Tecumseh Trail by taking a day hike. I only took one wrong turn -- which turned my planned 25-mile outing into 35. And, the large Timber Rattlesnake that I nearly stepped on late in the day did serve to quicken my pace substantially.

The training went well. Originally thinking that I was just building enough of a base to stay on my feet for a 6.5 hour trot/walk, my endurance and speed increased much better than I had anticipated. When I toed the line in Indianapolis on November 3, 2012, I actually thought I might be able to do this in 5 hours. "Shattering" that goal, I crossed the finish line with a time of 4:59:11. WooHoo! It was a beautiful day: started cool -- got wet -- had a little snow -- some small hail -- and more heavy rain. The hot bowl of chili at the rest & recovery tent was the best I had ever tasted!

In the end, crossing the finish line was an amazing feeling of personal accomplishment. If you haven't seen the video documentary, "Spirit of the Marathon," it does a nice job of telling the story of how a first marathon feels. "Now," I thought, "I am a runner!" Bring on the next one!


Up next: Mind, Body, Spirit

 

2: A little about me

I have a loving wife and two beautiful daughters. I am an Orthodox Christian. I work at Indiana University. And, I am originally from Walla Walla, Washington. As this blog takes shape, it should become apparent how each of these aspects of my life have shaped my perspectives on running. And, though I have come into it late in life, running has not only shaped me into a better person physically, it has also added much to the other dimensions of my life.

Age to me is just a number. I've seen people seem quite devastated by whatever number applies to them at a given time, but I have been fortunate in being able to not let the numbers bother me. You either age or you die. That may sound a bit morbid, but I prefer to think of it as a blessing. The more we age, the more opportunity we have to enjoy what we have been given in life. That being said, it may be useful to reveal that I have aged to the number 50. And, as I approached my 50th birthday, for the first time in my life, I began to consider myself A Runner.

I had never thought of myself as a runner. I have been, athletically, at various time in my life, a swimmer, a wrestler, a thrower, and a cyclist. Running, when forced upon me, was a necessary evil -- part of the package, if you will, of the preparations to do what I really wanted to do. When I last competed athletically, it was to throw the shot put and discus in college. I like to say that my preferred running distance was 7 feet -- the diameter of a shot put ring. For "distance running," the discus ring is 8 feet 3 inches. Sure, running is a necessary part of a thrower's training regimen, but speed may be hard to come by. At many college track meets, they will stage a weight man's (thrower's) 4x400 relay. After one such race, my coach approached me after the finish. He said, "you know, Weber, I was watching you run the back straightaway. Your running form is actually pretty good. But it is really quite amazing how slowly it propels you."

As I entered the post-collegiate recreational athletic stage of my life, bicycling is what propelled me. In college, I had stopped short of entering competitive cycling so that I could protect the activity for its pure enjoyment. Cycling had become a sanctuary for me. It was safe, serene, even meditative. Add to this the fact that I had custom selected each piece of the bicycle as I built it over nearly two years, giving it a personality to fit what I wanted in a ride, it was easy to "be one with the bike." Of course, I still enjoy my bicycle. What amazes me about my transformation into a runner is that it, too, has become a sanctuary.

Up next: The Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge: Hitting Stride

1: Being Unreasonable

In retrospect, when I embarked on my little fitness experiment, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I didn’t quite know where I was going – or how I was going to get there. For someone who thrives on control and order, this was a very unnerving situation. What I did know was that I needed to make a change.

So let's go back to the start...  With high hopes and the thought that I knew what I was doing, I headed to the gym to “get in shape.” Of course, I knew what I was doing! I had played sports throughout my youth and into college. I had continued to lead an active lifestyle for many years. (Note the word "had" in the last sentence -- past tense!) I had read books and magazines and talked with various people of athletic reputations. In short, I had no idea what I was doing!

Fortunately, my lack of real knowledge did not dissuade me from going to the gym and getting started. And THAT was the first major success of my journey. What I quickly discovered, however, was that without a plan and a goal, my new-found fitness kick was not likely to last very long. My first helper came in the form of a friend who happened to work at the campus rec sports center. She said, “It takes six weeks before exercising starts to become habit.” That was the perfect tidbit of advice for me. It gave me something manageable to start with -- and a goal: make it six weeks. Surely, I thought, I could stick it out for six weeks! I did, and even lost a few pounds in the process. But it felt like drudgery. After six weeks of circuits and weights and cardio, I felt like an oversized hamster just spinning my wheel. What I really needed was a swift kick in the butt and good pep talk. Thank God for my brother! He gave me a great pep talk, suggested some tools and structure that proved to be a perfect fit, and was all too happy to oblige by taking the kick.

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As I got deeper into my fitness goals and began to further modify my training routines, I decided that I needed a target to shoot for. Inspiration came through my daughter. As I was helping her practice throwing the shot put and discus, I determined that was precisely what I needed to do. I would prepare myself to compete at a Master’s track meet. And thus was born, “Jeff’s Unreasonable Midlife Fitness Challenge.”

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Before taking you down my trails of being unreasonable, I would like to leave you with an image regarding the extra weight that so many of us carry around. The next time you go to the store, find your way to the “pet supply” aisle and locate one of those plastic buckets of cat litter. They tend to be between 35 and 42 pounds.  Pick one up. How about two – one in each hand so you are balanced. Now think about carrying those around ALL DAY. When you lie down at night, perhaps you could set one on your chest, or even just half of one. Are you feeling tired and out of breath yet? That's where I was.

In the four years since I began my little fitness experiment, I have nearly set aside two of those buckets full of cat litter. According to the charts, I could still stand to lose more, but that has never been my main goal. As James Brown so aptly sang, “I FEEL GOOD!” That is my goal.  And, of course, to have fun. 


Up Next: A Little About Me