Thought I'd stop at 2. Figured I'd push it to 3.5. Did a 10K.
Foreign that I felt it in the lungs. Moved like molasses for the last mile. Calves were acting like they hadn't been run on before.
I could feel the strain in the foot for the first mile or so, but it largely vanished. I'm sore in other places now, which may be masking the original problem. Will have to wait and see how things shape up tomorrow, I suppose. I tried to focus this time on not limiting my landings to the balls of my feet, and to allow the whole foot to land (in order to try and more evenly distribute the impact). Don't know if that helps.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Postcard from the Edge.
It's distressing to see the date on that last post. Haven't run since that day. Extreme cabin fever.
Not sure which is worse, the edginess or the occasional creeping sense that another day off is okay. These last few days have been special torment, as the foot has been 99% fine, but that 1% has been loud enough that I didn't want to chance it.
In any event. I'm off for a test run now. Hope it (and my pace) won't suffer too badly. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Gahhhhhhhhhh
No running since Friday.
The tender ankle was aggravated to the point that I was running with what felt like a pronounced limp. I should mention even still that this is different from the past; it feels more like the arch than the ankle (although there's some of that in there as well). It's difficult to explain but again, entirely walkable. 3 miles on the track Friday, plus one on the treadmill. I'd found in the past that the treadmill was easier on the ankle, if only by comparison: the track I run is 17.5 laps/mile, which means almost constantly turning.
Skipped the Saturday long run, which is actually in some ways a blessing. That trail was becoming a little rote, and it's nice to take the break mentally. It's also something of an object lesson in patience—I'm overly prone to overdoing it, and it's far too easy to feel like I've really dropped the ball when I've only taken a day or two off. It's probably important to look back and realize that I'd only even started doing long runs maybe 2 months ago. It's already progressed to a point that I now feel a bit lazy if I don't do a half-marathon in the woods on Saturdays. Funny, that.
One additional note? I did spend a full day in the woods on Sunday, swinging fake swords at other people. It gave me a good excuse to try out this recipe for Pinole, as inspired by Chris McDougall's Born to Run. Who knows if it's anything near authentic, but it actually tasted alright, was dead simple to make, and I'd take it over a Clif bar any day of the week. Will have to see if I can pack some with me next time.
And now to return to meditating beyond the fact that I need to take another day off.
The tender ankle was aggravated to the point that I was running with what felt like a pronounced limp. I should mention even still that this is different from the past; it feels more like the arch than the ankle (although there's some of that in there as well). It's difficult to explain but again, entirely walkable. 3 miles on the track Friday, plus one on the treadmill. I'd found in the past that the treadmill was easier on the ankle, if only by comparison: the track I run is 17.5 laps/mile, which means almost constantly turning.
Skipped the Saturday long run, which is actually in some ways a blessing. That trail was becoming a little rote, and it's nice to take the break mentally. It's also something of an object lesson in patience—I'm overly prone to overdoing it, and it's far too easy to feel like I've really dropped the ball when I've only taken a day or two off. It's probably important to look back and realize that I'd only even started doing long runs maybe 2 months ago. It's already progressed to a point that I now feel a bit lazy if I don't do a half-marathon in the woods on Saturdays. Funny, that.
One additional note? I did spend a full day in the woods on Sunday, swinging fake swords at other people. It gave me a good excuse to try out this recipe for Pinole, as inspired by Chris McDougall's Born to Run. Who knows if it's anything near authentic, but it actually tasted alright, was dead simple to make, and I'd take it over a Clif bar any day of the week. Will have to see if I can pack some with me next time.
And now to return to meditating beyond the fact that I need to take another day off.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
...
7 miles. Track. Ankle is officially Not Happy With Me.
It's strange, however—this pain is qualitatively different from the chronic tendonitis I periodically suffer from—that variety is debilitating, and typically prevents me from walking almost entirely. This merely feels like an over-exerted set of muscles. I'm hoping that that is a strange kind of good sign.
It played hell with my form: I know I was really babying that foot for the last mile and a half or so, but even still, I feel like I'm struggling with understanding proper posture, and how much of a lean I should be adopting. In recent past I'd been experimenting with something between the Barefoot Ken Bob and Lee Saxby methods, which (as I understand it) is essentially like squatting. It feels balanced, but slower. I will occasionally adopt a stance which is much more upright and a pronounced forward lean. Faster but less relaxed.
It's strange, however—this pain is qualitatively different from the chronic tendonitis I periodically suffer from—that variety is debilitating, and typically prevents me from walking almost entirely. This merely feels like an over-exerted set of muscles. I'm hoping that that is a strange kind of good sign.
It played hell with my form: I know I was really babying that foot for the last mile and a half or so, but even still, I feel like I'm struggling with understanding proper posture, and how much of a lean I should be adopting. In recent past I'd been experimenting with something between the Barefoot Ken Bob and Lee Saxby methods, which (as I understand it) is essentially like squatting. It feels balanced, but slower. I will occasionally adopt a stance which is much more upright and a pronounced forward lean. Faster but less relaxed.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
After Effects.
Monday was more a challenge than it should have been—7.5 miles on the track. Left ankle screaming for the final mile. I'm convinced that was a direct result of heel-striking on Saturday.
Thankfully, I'm not hobbling today, but the 60Hz hum is definitely there—subdermal, latent. Anxious to see what the implications are for tonight, but I'm planning to go a little shorter. Also thinking of trimming the upcoming weekend long run to something closer to 10 miles, but entirely in the minimalist shoes around the pond loop.
Interesting side note: certain poses in the morning yoga seemed a little easier this morning, esp. the ones focusing on foot balance and strength. Warrior 1-3 worked out nicely.
Thankfully, I'm not hobbling today, but the 60Hz hum is definitely there—subdermal, latent. Anxious to see what the implications are for tonight, but I'm planning to go a little shorter. Also thinking of trimming the upcoming weekend long run to something closer to 10 miles, but entirely in the minimalist shoes around the pond loop.
Interesting side note: certain poses in the morning yoga seemed a little easier this morning, esp. the ones focusing on foot balance and strength. Warrior 1-3 worked out nicely.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Going Long.
First long run since I started this.
First, to quibble on terms: one man's trash will invariably be another man's treasure. My long run this weekend was 13.5 miles through mixed terrain (branch-heavy forest paths, gravel, dirt and pavement). I know that's not much to some... and at one point was not much to me. Quite literally, YMMV. Still doing this trail on my old shoes. Not ready to give up the ghost just yet, at least not for 1.5-2 hour stretches.
I did, however, try to focus on a persistent midfoot-landing and a cadence of 180. That held up pretty well; probably for the first 10-11 miles, in fact. I must have bonked in some fashion, though, because I hit a long, slow incline in the last miles that was simply too much, and reverted to a heel strike for the remainder.
That felt like a real defeat. Perhaps more illuminating, it felt noticeably awkward and uncomfortable. Which is primarily what makes it worth mentioning. My calves/achilles tendons simply needed a break, so it was nice to offload to the quads, but still.
Also: started carrying water on these weekend runs, which I'm not convinced yet is entirely worthwhile in terms of cost/benefit. It still feels strange and heavy to have that bottle in the hand all the time, and I suspect is interfering with overall gait and pace. I can absolutely go through the 22 ounces over that distance, but...at the risk of sounding goofy, that bottle weighs on my mind.
One last thing. It poured rain for about 20 minutes in the middle, and I had really bad heartburn for the final 30 minutes. I had no idea how debilitating that last fact would be.
This one felt a real struggle. Hopefully that has more to do with my transition in form than my overall abilities.
First, to quibble on terms: one man's trash will invariably be another man's treasure. My long run this weekend was 13.5 miles through mixed terrain (branch-heavy forest paths, gravel, dirt and pavement). I know that's not much to some... and at one point was not much to me. Quite literally, YMMV. Still doing this trail on my old shoes. Not ready to give up the ghost just yet, at least not for 1.5-2 hour stretches.
I did, however, try to focus on a persistent midfoot-landing and a cadence of 180. That held up pretty well; probably for the first 10-11 miles, in fact. I must have bonked in some fashion, though, because I hit a long, slow incline in the last miles that was simply too much, and reverted to a heel strike for the remainder.
That felt like a real defeat. Perhaps more illuminating, it felt noticeably awkward and uncomfortable. Which is primarily what makes it worth mentioning. My calves/achilles tendons simply needed a break, so it was nice to offload to the quads, but still.
Also: started carrying water on these weekend runs, which I'm not convinced yet is entirely worthwhile in terms of cost/benefit. It still feels strange and heavy to have that bottle in the hand all the time, and I suspect is interfering with overall gait and pace. I can absolutely go through the 22 ounces over that distance, but...at the risk of sounding goofy, that bottle weighs on my mind.
One last thing. It poured rain for about 20 minutes in the middle, and I had really bad heartburn for the final 30 minutes. I had no idea how debilitating that last fact would be.
This one felt a real struggle. Hopefully that has more to do with my transition in form than my overall abilities.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Radio On
Apologies for the glut, but I'm making up for lost time, and plenty of ground to cover.
One of the key components of minimalist running is the runner's cadence—i.e. the number of foot strikes (or landings) you make in any given minute. I'm sure there's some Golden Ratio/Modulo business behind it, but the research apparently bears it out—the majority of elite runners hover somewhere around 180 strikes per minute. That's not to be confused with pace. There is of course a roughly correlative relationship, just not a strictly causal one; it is possible, if challenging, to maintain a cadence of 180 and an 11-minute mile.
What it does relate to, however, are all of the other elements of Good Form; a quicker cadence generally means a shorter stride, which in turn encourages you to land under your center of mass, which helps to lead you to a midfoot landing. Et cetera, et cetera.
Why it just occurred to me now to tailor my running playlist to that rhythm is a bit of a mystery. I spent a few hours this week with a BPM counter to find songs between 175-190 bpm or, alternately, 87-95 bpm.
(Side discovery? It's surprising how narrowing that is—most dance music is very intentionally between 120-140. What does happen to be in the right range, generally? Power Pop. And, funny enough, most of the songs I wrote back in the Anushka Pop days. Score ;) )
It's made a real, appreciable difference, at least so far this week. My cadence feels much more consistent, and as a result much more efficient. Also, it's surprising how correct that rhythm feels; there were some inevitable moments where the beat would rise or fall as much as 10bpm, and matching that absolutely felt strange, either too fast or too slow.
I haven't taken a read of my pace since, but it certainly feels fast (for me, anyway). I'll miss the mid tempo songs, though hopefully I can just make the proper cadence inborn over time.
One of the key components of minimalist running is the runner's cadence—i.e. the number of foot strikes (or landings) you make in any given minute. I'm sure there's some Golden Ratio/Modulo business behind it, but the research apparently bears it out—the majority of elite runners hover somewhere around 180 strikes per minute. That's not to be confused with pace. There is of course a roughly correlative relationship, just not a strictly causal one; it is possible, if challenging, to maintain a cadence of 180 and an 11-minute mile.
What it does relate to, however, are all of the other elements of Good Form; a quicker cadence generally means a shorter stride, which in turn encourages you to land under your center of mass, which helps to lead you to a midfoot landing. Et cetera, et cetera.
Why it just occurred to me now to tailor my running playlist to that rhythm is a bit of a mystery. I spent a few hours this week with a BPM counter to find songs between 175-190 bpm or, alternately, 87-95 bpm.
(Side discovery? It's surprising how narrowing that is—most dance music is very intentionally between 120-140. What does happen to be in the right range, generally? Power Pop. And, funny enough, most of the songs I wrote back in the Anushka Pop days. Score ;) )
It's made a real, appreciable difference, at least so far this week. My cadence feels much more consistent, and as a result much more efficient. Also, it's surprising how correct that rhythm feels; there were some inevitable moments where the beat would rise or fall as much as 10bpm, and matching that absolutely felt strange, either too fast or too slow.
I haven't taken a read of my pace since, but it certainly feels fast (for me, anyway). I'll miss the mid tempo songs, though hopefully I can just make the proper cadence inborn over time.
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