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