Running Re-focused
Running, I'm coming back!
That's not to say I haven't been running - I have but not with any sense of purpose or direction. I run so I don't forget those muscles, so I can jump back into an Olympic triathlon at any time, to crosstrain my endurance for outrigger and just because sometimes I feel overwhelmingly inspired to head out on a trail.
I'd be lying if I didn't say a part of me was still holding fast to the doctor's words at my last knee check-up: play now, pay later. It wasn't foreboding - just matter of fact. But I'm constantly evaluating the miles I rack up today vs the months I can stave off without a knee replacement. If in fact I ever need one. No one knows. But I wonder, if I run today does that mean I might miss out on a ski season in the future? Am I trading in one opportunity for another?
Living in apprehension sucks. And I know I'm only talking about a knee - not life, not death, not work or finances or health or relationships, although all those things are real and come with their ups and downs. But really, my biggest apprehension consistently has been time spent on a disintegrating knee today vs what I can get out of it down the road.
So sometimes you just need a reason to say, fuck it.
That something is Stagecoach 100 - 100 miles from Flagstaff to the edge of the Grand Canyon with some of my favorite people in trail running and triathlon. I've signed up with my fellow Viva Pink girls to do the 4 man relay version alongside our more intrepid friends, Dana and Rick, doing the solo 100.
I'm doing something different with my training this time around - having talked with UltraU coach, Dana, about the success she's seen with Phil Maffetone's program. It's based on a formula - 180 minus your age, adding or subtracting 5 for a shortlist of items - that identifies your maximum aerobic heart rate. That's the rate you run every run at to optimize your aerobic base. For me, and for many newbies to the plan, that means fairly slow running at the start. I mean, really slow. So slow I feel like I want to yell when someone cruises past me that I'm intentionally running this slow - I have to run this slow. I'm not really this slow!
But once I got over the initial embarrassment of my plodding pace, I realized a few things - a) I'm never as tired as I used to be after a 10 mile trail run. I can do it and still bounce into work in a pair of heels feeling great. Not so when I wasn't paying attention to my heart rate. It always crippled me a bit. b) I'm not feeling any pain or sensitivity to upping my running from 1-2x a week to 4-5x. Maffetone says that this sort of training can prevent injuries - it's the slow and steady adage, I guess. And so far so good.
Of course, perhaps the best thing is that training at your max aerobic HR puts you in the fat-burning zone. The body pulls fuel from fat rather than carbs to keep going. Nice, right? Psychologically, that makes me feel 100% better about slogging along slowly for a 7 mile run on the bike path. Whether it's working I can't tell - but you know, 90% of the game is mental. Or something like that.
So all in all, I'm stoked to have a training plan, reinvigorated focus, plane tickets, a house for 12, great company, a cute running outfit and BOOM - setting the apprehension aside. Can't live in fear of what you don't know, right? Not today at least. I've missed you, consistent running.
That's not to say I haven't been running - I have but not with any sense of purpose or direction. I run so I don't forget those muscles, so I can jump back into an Olympic triathlon at any time, to crosstrain my endurance for outrigger and just because sometimes I feel overwhelmingly inspired to head out on a trail.
I'd be lying if I didn't say a part of me was still holding fast to the doctor's words at my last knee check-up: play now, pay later. It wasn't foreboding - just matter of fact. But I'm constantly evaluating the miles I rack up today vs the months I can stave off without a knee replacement. If in fact I ever need one. No one knows. But I wonder, if I run today does that mean I might miss out on a ski season in the future? Am I trading in one opportunity for another?
Living in apprehension sucks. And I know I'm only talking about a knee - not life, not death, not work or finances or health or relationships, although all those things are real and come with their ups and downs. But really, my biggest apprehension consistently has been time spent on a disintegrating knee today vs what I can get out of it down the road.
So sometimes you just need a reason to say, fuck it.
That something is Stagecoach 100 - 100 miles from Flagstaff to the edge of the Grand Canyon with some of my favorite people in trail running and triathlon. I've signed up with my fellow Viva Pink girls to do the 4 man relay version alongside our more intrepid friends, Dana and Rick, doing the solo 100.
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| Me and Coach D doing leg presses |
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| My pace group |
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| Running on Miwok (or Coastal) |
So all in all, I'm stoked to have a training plan, reinvigorated focus, plane tickets, a house for 12, great company, a cute running outfit and BOOM - setting the apprehension aside. Can't live in fear of what you don't know, right? Not today at least. I've missed you, consistent running.
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