This is the first time I’ve run with a marathon training group that has enforced the base phase of training. This may be the first time any group in Austin has done that. In the past I’ve joined groups that assume the runners have a base of running fitness by telling the participants “you should be able to comfortably run ____ miles at the start of this training.” Then the group goes straight into speed and hill workouts and building weekly mileage – with occasional drop-back weeks – up to the traditional start of a pre-marathon taper period.
And what an experiment it’s been! We started at the end of May just building mileage. By mid-July I’d worked my way up to my highest mileage ever (60+ miles per week) and, with a couple of drop-back weeks, I’ve been able to sustain it into August.
The mighty Ken and his fellow fasties have worked themselves into 100-mile frenzies week after week. Testosterone, testosterone. But everyone seems to be staying healthy.
Team Rogue has raised a lot of eyebrows in Austin’s running community.
The running has been the easy part, honestly. It’s everything that surrounds the running that’s been challenging and even comical. Fortunately for me my husband is a partner through all of this. We’re both participating, so we haven’t had to sacrifice time together like so many others must.
The hard part has been all of the pre-run prep like having to pack up work clothes, shower stuff, breakfast food, and lunch the evening before each run; having to go to bed so early that it’s still twilight so that the 4:00 a.m. alarm might not hurt so much; having to rush to prepare dinner so you can eat early enough to digest before the next morning’s run. While we did allow ourselves to watch our recorded coverage of the TdF, we’ve missed most of the Olympics coverage.
There have been some humorous stories about my teammates’ challenges, mostly associated with getting to work on time after squeezing in a 14- or a 16-miler on weekday morning. Folks tell about rushing to work late for meetings, or missing meetings entirely, or getting to the office and “I still have soap in my ears,” or having to work a boat sales floor till 6:00 or 7:00 p.m. after a Saturday morning 22-miler. For me, the blow-dryer has gone unused plenty of times in exchange for a precious few minutes to grab a bite to eat and still get in the office door ahead of my Director. And makeup? Forget that.
Recently, I hung Pearl Izumi’s new ad on my office wall: “If you ran without sacrifice, congratulations. You just jogged.”
I’m almost 48. I’m running the biggest miles I’ve ever run. I’m holding together quite well. I’m part of the great Austin experiment, and I ain’t jogging.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Looking Good - Even on the Second Pass
This morning Crazy Legs Kevin (Mr. Sub-2:50) passed me about five miles into the run. I had started several minutes ahead of everyone else because I think it’s better to get passed by everybody than to get dropped at the outset. There’s a better chance for a little friendly heckling and socializing. And I can’t bring myself to meet up with the 5:00 a.m. group. It’s too much pressure to get myself out the door by 4:40 a.m. It’s out of the question.
Kevin said a quick hello as he went by, his legs doing that propeller action on his back kick. And off he went.
By now I had expected the shirtless “fasties,” as Priscilla calls them, to catch me. Ramon came by, but he was all alone.
I ambled along through Delwood, crossed over to Hyde Park, through Brykerwoods, across MoPac and into Tarrytown still all by myself. Having seen Ken and his gang make up miles on me time and again, I was feeling mighty surprised that I’d stayed out in front of them this long.
Chris K. caught up with me along Lake Austin Boulevard. We chatted for a moment. He told me that the fasties were doing the 16-mile loop. Still glad I’d stayed out in front of them, I was certain they’d be up on me momentarily as I neared the end of my 14-miler.
At the Rock I chatted with Julia and Katie. I headed out across the bridge to Barton Springs Pool and along comes…guess who? Crazy Legs Kevin! He remarked that he was passing me a second time. So, he’d made up at least two miles on me – probably three – since I’d first seen him five miles into the run. As I processed this notion with some frustration with myself and admiration for Kevin, I shouted to him, now already several yards out in front of me, “But, Kevin, do I still look good?” He looked back with a grin and gave me a nod and a chuckle. He may have even verbalized a “yes.” Whatever. I’ll take it and run.
Where were the fasties? Lost, I understand. A little pack of guys in black shorts and no shirts scrambling around the ‘hoods of central and west Austin. If found, point them south to the pool.
Kevin said a quick hello as he went by, his legs doing that propeller action on his back kick. And off he went.
By now I had expected the shirtless “fasties,” as Priscilla calls them, to catch me. Ramon came by, but he was all alone.
I ambled along through Delwood, crossed over to Hyde Park, through Brykerwoods, across MoPac and into Tarrytown still all by myself. Having seen Ken and his gang make up miles on me time and again, I was feeling mighty surprised that I’d stayed out in front of them this long.
Chris K. caught up with me along Lake Austin Boulevard. We chatted for a moment. He told me that the fasties were doing the 16-mile loop. Still glad I’d stayed out in front of them, I was certain they’d be up on me momentarily as I neared the end of my 14-miler.
At the Rock I chatted with Julia and Katie. I headed out across the bridge to Barton Springs Pool and along comes…guess who? Crazy Legs Kevin! He remarked that he was passing me a second time. So, he’d made up at least two miles on me – probably three – since I’d first seen him five miles into the run. As I processed this notion with some frustration with myself and admiration for Kevin, I shouted to him, now already several yards out in front of me, “But, Kevin, do I still look good?” He looked back with a grin and gave me a nod and a chuckle. He may have even verbalized a “yes.” Whatever. I’ll take it and run.
Where were the fasties? Lost, I understand. A little pack of guys in black shorts and no shirts scrambling around the ‘hoods of central and west Austin. If found, point them south to the pool.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Using "Summer" as a Verb
One of the most amusing lines that came out of the republican primary contests was when Mike Huckaby said of Mitt Romney something like: “My family never used the word ‘summer’ as a verb…”
Neither did mine. But I’d sure like to. I’d like to use the word “summer” as a verb that tells what Ken and I might do some day.
On many summer visits to the Cape in the past, I thought that it would be nice to be able to spend summers there. Maybe the occasional and entirely optional and short non-summer visit but what I’m thinking here is the full-on June through August, or July through September extended stay. I’d even stay through October but, come November, Cape Cod and the entire state of Massachusetts should be left to her locals. Case in point: April 15-17, 2007.
And it’s gotta be an extended stay because if you do the standard week or two on the Cape you run the probable risk that it will rain every day you’re there. I’ve seen it happen. Not while I was “summering” there, of course, but as a teenager cooped up in a two-week summer rental with my parents. And a two-week visit doesn’t add up to “summering”.
On this most recent visit, I just about resolved that Ken and I shall “summer” on the Cape at some point in our lives. The great weather on this visit had much to do with my resolution. That, and my sister’s beautiful garden. And ALL of the beautiful gardens there! It seems that these people can just dig a few holes and plant a few perennials and annuals and they have flowers everywhere.
When I actually “summer” there, I’ll be too old to run, but I saw plenty of what looked like younger retirees cycling along the rail trail and the canal trail. You can bet I won’t go antiquing when I’m summering, but I’ll cycle and golf and lots of other nice things. Here will be our typical day:
7:00 – Wake up and have coffee and read the paper and have a bite to eat. I’ll bake muffins or a pie or run to Dunkin’ Donuts. Ken can walk the dachshund and the Labrador that we got from a rescue group.
9:00 – Jog or cycle or garden or golf. I might even let Ken talk me into some inland kayaking.
12:00 – Lunch. We’ll have chowda almost every day.
1:00 – Read or nap or write in our blogs or go to a movie
4:00 – Chores!
5:00 – Happy Hour!
6:00 – Dinner
7:00 – Walk the dogs on a beach
8:00 – Hang out. Maybe we’ll have a porch or a nice deck.
9:00 – Lights out
Neither did mine. But I’d sure like to. I’d like to use the word “summer” as a verb that tells what Ken and I might do some day.
On many summer visits to the Cape in the past, I thought that it would be nice to be able to spend summers there. Maybe the occasional and entirely optional and short non-summer visit but what I’m thinking here is the full-on June through August, or July through September extended stay. I’d even stay through October but, come November, Cape Cod and the entire state of Massachusetts should be left to her locals. Case in point: April 15-17, 2007.
And it’s gotta be an extended stay because if you do the standard week or two on the Cape you run the probable risk that it will rain every day you’re there. I’ve seen it happen. Not while I was “summering” there, of course, but as a teenager cooped up in a two-week summer rental with my parents. And a two-week visit doesn’t add up to “summering”.
On this most recent visit, I just about resolved that Ken and I shall “summer” on the Cape at some point in our lives. The great weather on this visit had much to do with my resolution. That, and my sister’s beautiful garden. And ALL of the beautiful gardens there! It seems that these people can just dig a few holes and plant a few perennials and annuals and they have flowers everywhere.
When I actually “summer” there, I’ll be too old to run, but I saw plenty of what looked like younger retirees cycling along the rail trail and the canal trail. You can bet I won’t go antiquing when I’m summering, but I’ll cycle and golf and lots of other nice things. Here will be our typical day:
7:00 – Wake up and have coffee and read the paper and have a bite to eat. I’ll bake muffins or a pie or run to Dunkin’ Donuts. Ken can walk the dachshund and the Labrador that we got from a rescue group.
9:00 – Jog or cycle or garden or golf. I might even let Ken talk me into some inland kayaking.
12:00 – Lunch. We’ll have chowda almost every day.
1:00 – Read or nap or write in our blogs or go to a movie
4:00 – Chores!
5:00 – Happy Hour!
6:00 – Dinner
7:00 – Walk the dogs on a beach
8:00 – Hang out. Maybe we’ll have a porch or a nice deck.
9:00 – Lights out
Away for a Few Days
I just got back from a visit to the family in MA. I gave Ken a pass on this visit to spare him from any family drama. I should have brought him. Folks would have been on their better behavior for him.
I got two lovely runs in. One was an out-and-back 12-miler on the Cape Cod Rail Trail between Dennis and Brewster. It’s asphalt-paved, mostly shaded, straight, and very level. It passes by ponds and several cranberry bogs. It’s marked every half mile. My sister rode her bike along with me. She was a great Sherpa, carrying water along in her bike bag.
The following day we went up to the Cape Cod Canal trail. There are asphalt-paved trails on either side of the canal for foot and bicycle recreation. Like the rail trail, the canal trail is straight and flat. My sister was my patient Sherpa again. It was a beautiful day. The water in the canal was a beautiful blue and there was a lot of boat traffic – mostly sailboats. The air had that great salty smell to it. It was about 72 degrees at mid-day with a steady gentle tailwind for the seven miles heading out that turned into a delightful breeze heading back.
It was nice to get out of the heat for a few days but I was very glad to get home!
I got two lovely runs in. One was an out-and-back 12-miler on the Cape Cod Rail Trail between Dennis and Brewster. It’s asphalt-paved, mostly shaded, straight, and very level. It passes by ponds and several cranberry bogs. It’s marked every half mile. My sister rode her bike along with me. She was a great Sherpa, carrying water along in her bike bag.
The following day we went up to the Cape Cod Canal trail. There are asphalt-paved trails on either side of the canal for foot and bicycle recreation. Like the rail trail, the canal trail is straight and flat. My sister was my patient Sherpa again. It was a beautiful day. The water in the canal was a beautiful blue and there was a lot of boat traffic – mostly sailboats. The air had that great salty smell to it. It was about 72 degrees at mid-day with a steady gentle tailwind for the seven miles heading out that turned into a delightful breeze heading back.
It was nice to get out of the heat for a few days but I was very glad to get home!
Monday, August 11, 2008
What's in a Name?
My favorite line out of one of the songs on my Dropkick Murphy’s CD is: “You got a piece of your life so take it and run now.” That it has the word “run” in it is a bonus. I thought it would make a good name. It’s better than “Ken has a blog so I’ll have one too,” which – I swear to God – I was considering.
This is wicked blog envy. I never wanted a blog before, but suddenly I must have one. Maybe now I gotta get me one of those MySpace pages on the worldwide web just to stay ahead of Ken.
This is wicked blog envy. I never wanted a blog before, but suddenly I must have one. Maybe now I gotta get me one of those MySpace pages on the worldwide web just to stay ahead of Ken.
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