Adaptability

Today was a learning day, and I think we all need these once in a while.  After enjoying a 12 oz sirloin at Ruth’s Chris last night – first steak since late ‘08, and oh lordy it was good (but coulda done without the price tag!) – I had to keep to my training schedule and pull a 9 miler out of the can today.

Well, Murphy’s Law hit me from all sides.  I was up ‘til 5 watching the women’s WC marathon, slept 4 fitful hours, drank coffee and had a donut, failed to consume any useful calories, and sat around until 2:30 before I ran.  Once out the door, it took 10 minutes of wandering the neighborhood and rebooting my iPhone before the GPS could find a satellite, my Achilles throbbed from the first step, RunKeeper shut down mysteriously for a mile so I lost my time and distance, and construction had closed the trail I was running, so I had to abandon my meticulously pre-planned route and wing it (with my distances all thrown to hell after the RunKeeper nonsense).  At what I took to be 6ish miles in, the ol’ hamstrings decided they’d had enough, a mile further along my toes alerted me that my shoes are 1/2 size too small for long runs, and I spent the last three miles walking a minute for every four I ran.  And I finally gave it up a mile from home and walked in.

Wow, right?  A hundred reasons to just turn around, go home and call it a day.  We’ve all these days, and we all know that temptation to just bag it.  But this is where the lesson comes in.

I adjusted my stride, just a bit, to try and go easy on the Achilles.  It didn’t solve the problem, but it let me run.  I found a new route to run.  I got to practice guessing at distances.  I got a good idea of some things I need to improve on, so I can work on them and not be surprised if they come up in a race.  And I learned that “Tuesday’s Gone” by Lynyrd Skynyrd has a near-perfect running cadence.  Who knew?  In short, I adapted.

This is the beauty and the difficulty in running; dealing with obstacles thrown in our path when we’re already tired and hot and sweaty and hurting.  It makes us feel weak at first to be thrown off stride, but ultimately we feel and are stronger for overcoming it.  We have to adapt to the situation as it unfolds, because it’s unpredictable – our legs can hurt, it can be too hot or too cold or start hailing or our bowels can refuse to cooperate.  So we learn to focus on what we can do, and not what we can’t.  What we did, rather than what we didn’t.  It doesn’t matter that I didn’t run the last mile; I did run the first 8.75! 

What did I learn?  That I can run nearly nine miles, no matter how bad I feel.  And that I can almost hit goal pace, even with a good dose of walking thrown in.  That my sense of distance needs some practice.  And that my pacing is getting much better.  These are good things, and as I hobble around for the next 24 hours with sore legs, I’ll remember them, and be ready to attack it again on Tuesday.

105 days to Vegas! (powered by Zappos.com!)

The big ol’ training plan

So here it is, in case anybody wants to follow along (I’m calling this accountability for Switzer, btw – the more people know what’s expected of me, the more I’ll, uh, not want to be exposed as a slacker), the training plan for the Vegas half marathon.  (powered by Zappos!)  I downloaded it from Runner’s World, but I put in a few tweaks to fit my schedule and ability, but there are the goals.  I’m using Google Docs for this, despite my employment with a competitor who shall remain unnamed, so it’s a big experiment. 

For your enjoyment, click here for the full plan, and this week’s progress (so far) can be viewed below!

First tempo run!

Okay, so I took most of July off with a yanky achilles, then was just lazy the first two weeks of August, so I’m just getting back into it.  Today I did my first tempo run in about two months, and it was tough!  In hindsight, having the entire second mile of my tempo portion be uphill into a wind was…unwise.   I wound up walking a bit, but the first and third miles were close to pace.

The plan: 1 mile warm up, 3 miles @ 6:55 pace, 1 mile cool down.  The reality: 1 mile warm up, 1 mile @ 6:52, 1 mile @ 9:45 (see?), 1 mile @ 7:20, and .77 mile cool down.  Given the long layoff, I’ll take it.  Next time maybe I do this on a track so I have some consistency, or just find some level trails. 

On another note, Run Keeper Pro on the iPhone is kick-ass.  I programmed the workout, and while still telling me my pace, distance and total time every five minutes, it also tells me when to speed up and slow down as part of my interval or, as today, tempo run.  Bad ass!  Plus, it lets me do this:

Cross Country! (and other thoughts)

Well, it’s that time of year again – the leaves will turn soon, and it’s time to leave the road and start running trails.  I’m lucky to live in, um, or near, Seattle so I can join one of the largest cross country teams in the country, Eastside Runners XC Team.  For those of you paying attention, yes, I was on the team last year, but only ran one meet and then the “incident” happened.  I suspect this year will be a bit more rewarding, what with 50 pounds less on the frame and a bit more speed in the legs. 

Last night was our first team meeting, where we got to mingle a bit and cover the bases – team captains, who and how to pay, team uniforms, how to register for races, etc.  I am pumped!  I love track, but there’s something so unique in XC – the changing terrain, different challenges in every race, and given the time of year, you can deal with anything from heat to sub-zero temperatures.  It’s a sport for the hardy, with the added benefit that you tend to run in beautiful locations.  And entering a new age group, the 40-49 division, opens up some new competitive territory for me.  Let’s face it, the odds of me competing with 25 year old guys running sub-15:00 5Ks are slim.  But if I can get under 20:00 consistently, I should at least be able to help my age-group team score, and that’s what it’s all about.

Now, onto something a little more serious…

I’ve been following the World Championships in Berlin, and the women’s 800 meters has an unusual bit of intrigue – the gender of the gold medalist has been called into question.  Apparently, she improved her PR quite suddenly this July from 2:04 to 1:56, and when the IAAF saw photos of her, they asked South African officials to investigate her gender.  See why here or here.  I think, visually, there appears to be a legitimate question, and the rapid appearance of dominant ability in this person is at a minimum suspicious. 

But here’s what concerns me.  This is an 18-year old kid, however the gender issue is resolved.  Why was this released to the press the day before the final?  Why not just keep the info behind the scenes until the IAAF has their answer, and then release it?  Does this person deserve no dignity?  Even the IAAF officials, from their statement, don’t believe this is a case of fraud, but rather of someone who may think of herself as a woman but not, biologically, be one.  And this 18 year old kid has had this played out on global television. 

Watching her face prior to the final, filled with defiance, and the lack of any joy after winning a world title, just broke my heart.  Even at the medal ceremony, it was obviously bittersweet at best.  If she turns out to be clean of any doping issues and biologically female, what good has been done here?  We’ll have someone whose crowning achievement, what should be a moment of unsurpassed joy and pride, has been stripped by a public whipping that no one deserves.

Of course, if she has doped or is biologically a male, the question of fairness is moot – she doesn’t deserve the medal.  But that will still not change one salient, oh-so-important fact: this is an 18-year old kid, who will carry what’s happened this week the rest of her life.  Are there no adults in the IAAF or the media who could’ve thought better of this? 

Vegas training has begun!

Today is the official start – 111 days out – of my training for the Vegas half…excuse me, the Rock ‘n’ Roll Las Vegas Marathon and Half Marathon powered by Zappos.com.  {rolls eyes}  I’ve run it before (badly and slowly), several years ago, and bailed out at the 6 mile mark about 3 years ago, but I’m going all in this time.  I mean, aiming for a 1:30 half marathon all in.  And with that, I introduce you to my newest toy, Runkeeper.com! 

It’s an app on the iPhone that uses GPS to track your mileage, speed, elevation, and uses audio cues to keep you up to speed on your progress.  It also provides links to the workout (you’ll see this shortly).  A lot of this is in the MapmyRun app and software, the main advantages seeming to be the audio cues and real time elevation tracking.  I prefer the MapmyRun social media tie-ins, but RK seems to work okay with Facebook, although I haven’t been able to get it to tweet yet.  Anyhoo, I’m off to see District 9, but I can’t leave without offering up my first RunKeeper workout:

UPDATE: Since I’m not convinced that worked, and it only appears to be a map link if it did, >:-( here’s the scoop: 3.66 miles around Bellevue at 8:16 pace – 8:45 first mile, 7:45 second, 7:37 third, then I struggled with a 9:38 pace the last .66. 

Journey from the fat guy in the picture to a racer

Where the hell have you been, Switzer, you say? Well, you're right to wonder, but I don't appreciate your tone. The truth is, it's been...an odd year. Let's see - where to start? Tell ya what, let's make this a multi-parter. I'll tell you where I've been, and later I'll cover why I started this blog, and why I'm writing it now.

Okay, sooo...after I made my last post here almost a year ago, cross country season started. It did not go well. I was fat, out of shape, not nearly as ready as I thought and hoped I was, and it was all around humiliating. And the truth is, club teams say they welcome runners of all abilities, but the word 'welcome' is in the eye of the beholder. But that's okay, I expected some humiliation along the way - you plow through and become stronger for it. What I did not expect was the photo.

I don't have a link to this photo, as it seems to have disappeared from the intertubes. But I can describe it, because it lives on with crystal clarity in my mind. I went to the Sundodger Invitational to support my Eastside Runner teammates. I was not fast enough to run in this meet, which was okay with me. I love the sport, so I had a blast watching college athletes from NAIA Division II up to the eventual NCAA national champion UW Huskies run, and the club runners were right in the mix. Nobody on the team knew me, so I didn't really chat with anyone, but again, no big deal. I was new on the team, I can be a little shy, and they were doing other things. What I found out later was that I had inadvertently stood in the shot while some photos were being taken. When a link to the club's photos of the event went out, I happily looked through - hey, running photos are kinda awesome! I came across one that I glanced at, but didn't look that closely. The caption said "I love the look on the not-so-fit guy's face as he watches these Kenyans fly by!". I looked up to see the poor fat guy being made fun of, and was horrified to realize that I was that fat guy.

Well, I will say this. I had never experienced such a deep blow. I don't know why it hit me as hard as it did, but it did. I stopped blogging, stopped running, stopped everything. After a couple days, I decided to do something about this, and started looking into the 20/20 Lifestyles program at my gym - basically, you pay assloads of money to the club in exchange for six months of a dietician, doctor, personal trainer twice a week, and private and group therapy. My company pays most of the cost, but that still leaves a couple grand coming out of my pocket. I decided, to never feel like this again, to walk across my house without getting winded, to never feel ashamed of big clothes fitting snugly, to not fear the beating of my own heart - well, no price was too much. I perked up and was excited about this new direction in my life!

You can feel the other shoe about to drop, right? It did. I went through two physicals (to make sure I was unhealthy enough to qualify for this, but healthy enough to not die in the process), two blood tests, and all sorts of paperwork, only to find at the last minute that I had the wrong insurance. Suddenly, I was out in the dark again, and wouldn't get the help I so obviously needed until I could change my insurance, in three months.

I'm sorry to say that this put me in a depression like I've never felt before and hope to never feel again. It lasted from October into January, and I was just destroyed. I hated being fat, and desperately wanted to go to the gym, but I was borderline qualified for the program, so couldn't risk getting any healthier. I refused to take blood pressure medication, wouldn't work out, and ate even more than before, which is saying something. I ate things I didn't want, WHEN I didn't want. Eventually I could see others looking a little embarrassed, so I began to eat normal meals and snuck out to McDonalds after they'd gone to sleep, and would eat in my car. There is no way to explain the shame and hurt of sitting in your car at 1am, eating a burger you don't want.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Switzer was not cut out for supporting someone going through this type of trauma, and couldn't be with someone she thought of as fat, lazy, unwilling to fix these things, and depressed, and found another Mr. to love - I finally moved out on January 29 of this year. So, to add to the shame and hurt of being Mr. Fat Guy, I had become Mr. Single Dumped By His Wife Guy. (I promise, this story cheers up) Prior to that date, however, I had started to make some changes on my own. I stumbled on these little tuna salad with cracker things - they're $2 each, and all self-contained. I found little puddings. I forget what else I ate at this time, but the point was, while other things had gone out of my control, I found I could control one thing - what I ate. And while I felt weak in other aspects of my life, feeling hunger that I'd imposed on myself felt strong. So I started eating small portions, identical foods and amounts, at the same time every day. And weight started to come off.

In January, I started to run again, and this time enjoyed it. I actually kicked it off with a race on New Year's Day (see the photo!) I was struggling to run two miles at 10:00 pace, but I was doing it, and it felt good. In February, I'll admit that the stress compounded and I made some poor eating choices (essentially, I became obsessed with the weight loss and stopped eating), but I was running 4 or 5 times a week and added boxing to the regimen. By the end of February I'd dropped from 198 lbs (207 on January 1) to 182, and was able to run up to 4 miles at a 9:00 pace. In February, on the days I ate, I took in under 1000 calories.

In March, I got down to the low 170's, and even peeked under 170, and rediscovered my ability to run on my toes and use a quicker stride. I signed up for races to give myself a target goal. Also, after an embarrassing fainting spell at boxing, I started eating enough food - and PROTEIN - to keep the machine going and suddenly found myself with abundant energy, and even managed to run 6 miles a couple times. I started eating closer to 1600 calories a day, and felt like I was gorging myself to do it!

In April, I got down to the low 160's, made more tweaks in the diet, adding some calories back in and moving some protein around. I also started to accumulate miles, and got up to 10 miles for my long runs.

By May, I was ready to race. I locked in at 162 lbs, and was running consistent miles, long runs around 8:45 - 9:00 pace and shorter runs around 8:20 pace. I finally added an interval workout - 2 x 1600 in 7:45, with an 800 jog between. Well, I ran one at 6:37 and one at 6:45, and knew that things had really changed. I was ready for Bloomsday.

Bloomsday is a 12k in Spokane, with Doomsday Hill about halfway in - a hill I was terrified of, as I've struggled with hills for the last few years. When I registered, I predicted a 9:00 pace on the registration form, and thought that might be a little aggressive. Even though I'd improved faster than I thought I would, I was still expecting no better than an 8:30 pace if things went really well. As it turned out, I finished with a 7:50 pace

The more important moment in May, though, involved my Eastside Runners jersey. When I got it (size XL) for cross country season 8 months earlier, it was SNUG. Like, embarrassingly, here-are-my-man-boobs snug. I wore it, but I hated it. Well, during my moving around I found it and tried it on, just out of curiosity - and it was baggy on me. Hence, I wore that bastard at Bloomsday just to make a point to myself. And I wore it at the next 5k I ran (in 21:43), in the mile I ran at an all-comer's (6:37), and in the half-marathon in late June (1:51), and the 5k on my birthday (21:49 on a longer/mis-measured course).

And I'm back. I have my confidence back. I have my assassin back - rather than just slogging through races because it's what you do, I target people and pick them off for the fun of it. I'm beating people in my club. I'm top 10 in the 40-44 division in my last three races. I can love participating in this sport again, instead of just watching it. I feel, in short, like a runner again. I look like a runner again. I eat like a runner again, sleep like a runner again, think like a runner again. This is what I do. It's been a weird and at times difficult year, but on the other side of it, I have me, and I'm happy about that. I missed me. I didn't like being the guy who couldn't tuck in a shirt or keep up on a walk to the cafe. I like this - I love watching this sport, and I love competing. I think it's a shame that I had to start beating people before I was welcomed into my running club, and I hope I can use my experience to teach people about that.

Most of all, I'm happy. And I look forward to re-purposing this blog, to tell the story of a comeback, to talk about the sport I love, and to just generally...well, drop 2,000 words at a pop and make you all suffer through it!