Diet and Exercise

Ripped off a 5 miler on the dreadmill yesterday. Ho hum. I suppose I should dedicate one of these hamster-wheel excursions to speed-work, but I am at heart a lazy runner, and I'd rather not run the risk of injury with a long-term goal of long-range miles. 

I usually do my mid-week runs at a pace between 6.7-7 miles per hour. I used to be faster on the daily slog, but about two years ago I started eating a low-carb paleo diet and my times went all to shit. I've since become less carb-phobic, but for whatever reason, I've had a hard time getting back to those 8 minute miles. The Paleo diet, if you've never heard of it, is based on the diet supposedly consumed by our paleolithic ancestors; lots of grass-fed meat, wild fish, vegetables, healthy fats and low carbs. No grains, industrial oils or sugars. This type of diet is worlds ahead of the Standard American Diet (SAD) in terms of nutrient density, but the macro-nutrient profile is all wrong for endurance athletes. 

When I started eating like a caveman, I did lose weight-about 15 pounds in less than two months-but I was so glycogen-deprived that my athletic performance tanked, my energy levels were non-existent and my memory got noticeably worse. I lasted about 2 years like this before I threw in the towel and started adding more carbs to the mix; sweet potatoes and white rice mostly, supplemented by the occasional pizza. Let's face it, unless you want to spend all your time obsessing about food, (which can lead to an eating disorder known as orthorexia), it isn't possible to eat clean 24/7. My current approach is more streamlined-steer clear of processed and junk foods, eat real food and try to avoid too much sugar. This is, in itself, enough of a challenge. As I write this, I'm looking at a piece of pecan pie about a foot away from my keyboard. Someone brought it in for Christmas and it looks damn good. The holidays. What can you do?

At this point I'm wondering whether such a lengthy period of carb-restriction  permanently screwed up my metabolism in some way. There's anecdotal evidence of this on the interwebs, but I haven't seen anything conclusive. All I know is that my weight shot up pretty quickly when I started eating more carbs, despite the fact that my calorie intake remained more or less the same and my exercise levels actually increased. As for the reduction in speed, I can't tell whether that's due to the diet or just the fact that I'm getting older. Maybe as my weekly mileage and long-runs increase, I'll find the answer.

Running Through The Fog

Running has always been therapeutic for me. The simple act of lacing up my shoes and heading out the door to put one foot in front of the other for a certain time or distance has literally saved my sanity and pulled me through some very dark times.  If you run regularly, you know what I mean. At its essence a good run (even a bad one) is moving meditation.  Solutions to problems long considered, often come in a flash of insight. I find that I can work out seemingly intransigent problems with a clarity of thought that is impossible to attain while sitting at a desk and staring into a computer screen.  I also find my thought processes slow down, as though I were engaged in seated Zen meditation.  This in turn, allows me to lower my anxiety levels and gain perspective on things. I have run through grief, and sadness, good times and bad, year in and year out, for over two decades. It is the thread that runs through my life and ties everything together.  I’m not a fast runner, I don’t take much pleasure in competition (well, a little pleasure), but I’d have a hard time going more than a couple of days without it.

Maybe something about the sheer physicality of the act of running helps clear the mind of all of that internal and external chatter. The “monkey-mind” as they call it in Buddhism. I don’t know how it works, but work it does. 

I’ve posted about the therapeutic benefits of running before on my other running blog. I usually don’t think too much about it; it just seems like a given. Still, the tragedy in Connecticut on Friday has resulted in some pretty somber runs through grey late-fall skies here on Long Island. Almost six years ago I experienced the unexpected death of my spouse, so I have some idea of what it’s like to be blindsided by fate.  I learned then, as those parents are learning in a heartwrenchingly  real way now, that despite our best efforts, we can never protect our loved ones from the unknown or the unexpected. Life is too random and the future is wholly unpredictable.  I think that the best we can do in the face of such uncertainty is live like every minute is the last minute.  Don’t sweat the small stuff.  You never know what is going to happen tomorrow and you can’t do anything about it anyway,  but we sure as heck know what’s happening right now. Being present in each moment and really listening to each other is so important. Everything else is just running through the fog.  

The Daily Grind

Since I'm "lucky" enough to work in a sleek modern office building located in the swamps of New Jersey, (with easy access to several major highways), most of my mid-week running is done on the treadmill. I tried running around the parking lot of Giants Stadium a few times, but the wind is viscous, and crossing Route 3 on foot isn't for the faint of heart, so I mostly plod away in the building's gym while watching some obscure BBC show on my smartphone. I get the miles in, which is about about all I can say about that. It isn't training so much as it is maintaining. I do the real work on Thursday mornings, which is the day I typically work from home, or on the week-end.

When I trained for the 09 Philly Marathon, I would get up at 5am on Saturday to get my long run in by 8 or 9. There's nothing like finishing a 20 mile training run followed immediately by another 10 hours on your feet chasing three boys around the house. I don't know how a guy like Dean Karnazes finds the time and energy to do what he does. Apparently he's drafted his family into serving as his support crew and has somehow sold them on the idea that following him around in an RV while he runs 200 miles across Southern California is quality together-time. That wouldn't fly around my house, but I have to admire his powers of persuasion. It probably doesn't hurt that he makes his living from running, while you, me and the rest of the mid-packers have to spend it on shoes, entrance fees and travel to far-off races. This time around I'm really going to try to keep the long runs scheduled for Thursdays; at least I can sit down in front of the computer when I'm done, rather than sprinting around playing tag.

So far this week, I  ran 5 outside on Sunday and 5 yesterday on the dreadmill. Today will be 4 or 5. Tomorrow will also. Why did I start this blog, anyway? I think it had something to do with staying motivated. Maybe tomorrow I'll talk about diet.

New Challenges

I have no excuses. One post, then I disappear for months. It's really unbecoming of a running writer. Still, things have been busy and I have been feeling exceptionally lazy. I herein apologize for my slacking and resolve to do better. Resolve? Yes, it IS that time of the year, isn't it? Next year, quite early next year actually, I will turn 45. I have RESOLVED to do some kind of running event to celebrate another year past; another year of survival, another year closer to the grave.

What I have been entertaining, is the idea of running something somewhat longer than an ordinary marathon. (Been there, done that). I have been considering an ultra. The particular ultra I've been mulling over is fairly "short", as these things go. It's a 50k race, which converts to something like 31 miles. Intellectually, I know that this goal is attainable, despite the fact that I've been mostly plodding along lately at reduced speed and tepid mileage. And yet. Venturing beyond the mystical point of 26.2 is a path fraught with (mostly self-imposed) peril. I remember crossing the finish-line at the 2009 Philadelphia marathon, certain that I couldn't take another step. In fact, I groaned into Erin's ear, "babe, if I ever start talking about running another marathon, remind me of how shitty I feel right now." When I mentioned that I was contemplating taking on this challenge, she promptly reminded me. Being the egotistical SOB that I am, I went out the next day in the rain and ripped off 8 miles. Frailty of the human body, my ass!

Challenges are presented thusly: It's fair to say that I've packed a few pounds around the middle since last year. All that traveling for work and restaurant food will offset even the most aggressive running schedule. I'm topping out at 187, which is about 10 pounds over my 2009 Philly marathon weight. Either the lard goes, or my knees do, its one or the other. Also, time. I have no time. I have three active children and a long commute. I travel about 35 thousand miles a year. Who needs sleep, am I right? I figure as long as I can fit in one long run a week I will be able to make it. Time will tell.

One small glimmer of encouragement was provided by my showing in the Oyster Bay Turkey Trot 5k a few weeks back. Despite my relative lack of training, I placed first in my age group (out of 21 men, 40-44) with a time of 24:17.3 and 94th overall (out of 491 runners). I apparently won a medal, but I didn't stick around to collect it. I realize that there is a big difference between 5k and 50k, but I'll take any encouragement I can get. The picture above is a self-portrait taken at the starting line. It was cold. I was crabby and I just ran two miles to get to the starting line, because THAT's the way I roll.

Anyway, the race is in March, which means I have to up my long runs at a pretty steep pace. Last week, 8, this week, 10. So it goes.

Running Free

The recent death of ultrarunner Mica True, (aka Caballo Blanco), in the Gila wilderness last week affected many people in a profound way. Based on the outpouring of grief and the innumerable comments on the internet about Caballo’s affect on people’s personal lives, it’s clear that his message of running light and free on the earth deeply resonated with many runners. Caballo’s message was all about doing what you love, helping others and finding your own center.

Like most runners who do a little distance work, I’ve experienced moments of transcendence; flying down the trail with wings on my feet and my heart open to the beauty around me. I’ve also experienced grinding drudge-miles on the side of the highway, rain and wind whipping my face as cars roar by a foot away from the breakdown lane. Running is like everything else in life. It can be great or horrible, and sometimes both at the same time. The greatness doesn’t last forever, but then again, neither does the horror. States of mind always pass, like miles under your feet. The real Zen of it is never knowing what kind of day you’re going to have before heading out the door, and not becoming too attached to what happens once you get started.

Caballo Blanco’s own race ended too soon, but he left the broader running community with some wisdom that should be taken to heart. First and foremost, run free. Don’t worry about what you’re wearing on your feet, how many miles you’re logging or how long it’s taking you to get from point A to point B. Running at its best is really moving meditation and the less you occupy your mind with distractions, the freer your running will be. Second, give back to your community. Caballo organized the yearly Copper Canyon marathon to benefit the Tarahumara people. He donated his energy and time, and the runners that came from outside the area to run alongside the indigenous runners, donated their prize money and thousands of pounds of food to the local communities. Ultra-running has a reputation as a self-oriented, almost narcissistic sport, but Caballo proved that it can also be a force for good in the world.

This blog is a record of my own efforts to run free. It will deal with running, health topics, Zen and whatever else I feel like writing about. Welcome to the adventure.