3 Peaks Challenge: Day 1 - Mt. Mansfield, VT

For those who aren't aware, I recently participated in a charity mountain climbing event called the The Conservation Fund, with the total currently around $15,000.  Donations are still open if you're interested in supporting this great charity.  We felt the charity and the event were well aligned, and that became even clearer as we did the climbs and tried to respect the fragile land around the paths we hiked and climbed.

Three Peaks Challenge where a group of us climbed the three tallest peaks in the Northeast US in three consecutive days.  Not only was this a physical challenge due to the actual climbing, it was also one due to all the driving you had to do to get to each mountain.

It was, in a word, amazing.  Below is a recounting of our first day on Mt. Mansfield, in Stowe, VT.  You can also read about Day 2 - Mt. Washington (NH) and Day 3 - Mt. Katahdin (ME). I try to share my experience on the climb as well as tips around gear, training, and - most importantly - mindset.

 A special shout out to The Clymb, where I was able to pick up most of my gear at amazing prices. I got some really high end stuff, and am glad I had it. If you're not a member, join today (for free)!

Logistics
I climbed with a group of coworkers, some I knew, and I some I knew of. This was really the most crucial ingredient - while what you pack matters a lot, the pack you're with matters much more. These were all great people who really wanted to this event. There was no one there who was forced to do it, and no one who wasn't taking it seriously. They are also all very nice (and funny) people, so if nothing else, pick your co-climbers wisely. When the going gets tough, you want good people around you.

We had a mix of experienced (e.g. two have climbed Kilimanjaro more than once) and inexperienced (most of us!) climbers, with folks coming in from all over the US (though not everyone was American). It was a good, mixed group.

We all met at the Stowehof Inn in the Stowe, VT area Thursday night, then took our caravan to a lot at the base of Mt. Mansfield Friday morning.  We hit the mountain around 9am, and were back to our cars around 1 or so. I don't recommend the Stowehof Inn. It's not cheap, and also not in great shape. The staff is really nice, but the place isn't. The grounds are gorgeous, though.

The climb
Mt. Mansfield was supposed to be our easy / warm up mountain. It was in the sense that it wasn't as steep as Washington, and wasn't as technically challenging as Mansfield, nor was it anywhere near as long a hike as the other two (about half as long), but it had its own challenges - namely, the weather. It predicted to be our coldest day, though we were supposed to be in for rain the whole time. What we weren't expecting was 60 mile per hour gusts above the tree line, or sleet.  In June. I actually got blown over twice. My face was so numb that the jerky I put in my mouth at the summit for some energy was too much work for my cold cheek muscles to deal with.

That said, the hike up through the forest section was great. It was a beautiful setting with water running through the path due to the rain. We crossed a stream, but you almost wouldn't know it since we were basically always in water.  Really, though, it was gorgeous.

At the summit in the wind, sleet and cold

It was a real workout without being anything too tricky. It was raining, but not pouring. The temperature was cool enough to keep you from overheating, but not so cold that you might get in trouble.  That was the case for probably 70% of the climb, while the peak area was exposed, wetter and much colder temp-wise and thanks to the strong winds. It's also home to some interesting rocks that are really tough to come down when wet. I barely made it down one rock face and caught my footing when another hiker's feet slipped out from under him, sending him crashing against the rock, and sliding down toward me.  I was able to brace myself and stop his slide.  That was a good thing, or he'd have slid off another 20 or so feet.  Luckily, there were only a hand full of those rocks, and we quickly found ourselves back in the safety and comfort - relatively speaking - of the forest.

I actually ended up running down the last mile or so, which was fantastic. My virgin legs were a bit quivery (yes, I fell twice - once while trying to eat another piece of jerky while walking down a slope, and other time when jumping through a stream we had to cross, though I landed in a bed of moss and was actually really happy to have fallen given how great the water and moss felt), so using my muscles differently actually felt really good and a bit easier.  That was my favorite part of the hike, and a great note to end on.

What did I learn?
I learned some basics about hubris (like don't eat jerky while walking down a slope), that good boots are worth every penny (I really lucked out with my close-out North Face boots that were both a good deal and a fantastic set of boots that stayed dry inside despite the rain and stuck to every surface I put them on, regardless of how much water was rushing over it).  I also learned that Gore-Tex gloves are crucial. I had two pairs of gloves with me, which was great given the cold (40s Fahrenheit) and wet weather. Unfortunately, neither was waterproof, so they made things worse. My hands hurt terribly, and really swelled up.  Of everything I wish I had, good, waterproof gloves were at the top of the list. I stopped at a ski and mountain bike shop in the Stowe area on my way to Mt. Washington and bought two pairs of Gore-Tex gloves (gotta love the off-season sales!).

So, what did I have?  A rain shell, quick-dry hiking pants that can convert to shorts, a hydration back pack (clean the bladder really well - mine tasted horrible, and made my stomach hurt), a baseball hat and a running hat, several changes of shirts of different warmths, and some snacks.  You don't need a lot of food, but do have some things you can fuel yourself with that won't get soggy.  Sandwiches aren't a good idea.  Jerky and nuts are. Some folks brought M&Ms (I got some peanut ones for Katahdin) or a dark chocolate and nut bar.  I also had a couple of newbodi.es slow carb bars, which really worked out nicely with the mix of proteins, chia seeds and coffee beans.

I also packed all of my changes of clothes into gallon Ziplock bags, and threw in a couple of extra bags for wet/dirty stuff I would take off.  Honestly, grabbing those before I left for the trip was one of the most brilliant things I've ever done in my life. No joke. OK, slightly exaggerated, but no joke.

Another thing I learned is about the pack I used. I had a 5.3 litre hydration back pack with a 1.5 litre water bladder. Others in the group tended to have larger bags, many of which looked fairly empty. That means wasted weight. I think a 6L pack would have been perfect as I had to squeeze things really tight, and act as a human vacuum sealer to get my stuff smaller.  Another 10% or so would have just lessened the aggravation.  What I did learn is that I drank less than I thought I would, and probably less than I should have, though I was fine.  That meant I could fill my bladder much less than I did, which makes it easier to stuff more clothes and gear into the main compartment.  I did that on the following days, but still had at least twice as much water as I needed.  If the water wasn't making me sick, maybe I would have drank more.  Others in my group consistently ran out of water along the way.

I also had my prior learnings around compression gear reinforced. Since I didn't train with hiking (I basically just have been running and doing other cross-training), my legs were getting pretty tired.  I had long compression pants and a long sleeve compression shirt on under my other clothes, and I could tell that they were helping.  When I got back to my car, I put on compression socks for our 2.5 hour drive to Washington, and knew I had made a good decision.  With back to back climbs, you need to use every tool at your disposal to aid recovery and keep yourself going. I've found compression to work wonders, and this climb only reinforced it to me.  I did compression-free on top for Katahdin, and I noticed the difference in how my muscles responded when they got cold. They were as cold on Mansfield, but didn't seize up or slow down, and it wasn't about freshness/fatigue.

Back to the base
In the end, Mt. Mansfield was too short to have any deep learnings about myself, the power of my mind or anything like that. Instead, I learned some lessons in logistics for the next day, and got a good sense that I'm in good enough shape and well enough trained for this event.

One down, two to go.

1 Down

Lessons for a First Time Racer - Part 3: Hydration

June 1st, 2013 was the first time I ever did a running race.  I've run hundreds of miles since starting in February of 2012, but I got injured before I could enter a race (had to scratch my first one due to a re-herniated disc), and a few injuries and surgeries since then have gotten in the way.  Today, I completed one of the Susan G. Komen 5Ks (the most popular 5K series in the country) as my first race.  It's not the longest I've run (as it would have been when I signed up for it last year), but it was a totally different experience than running recreationally, and tougher in a different way than any other run I've done, distance and speed aside.  I learned a few things (or was made aware of things I need to learn more about), and thought it would be valuable to share those things.

I've organized these learnings into sections that I will post as separate blog entries.  This is the third part on hydration.  Be sure to check out the post on shoe strategy and the other on pacing.

Hydration
Everyone has an opinion on how long of a run you'd need water for, and whether you need fuel (e.g. gels).  A coworker runner says very matter-of-fact that you don't need water for anything under 6 miles.  Another says he doesn't bother if it's less than 10. Another running friend doesn't run more than a mile at a time because he feels he really needs it at that point but refuses to carry water.

This is kind of the point. While there may be scientific answers to the perfect times to hydrate, the general rule of thumb is that if you wait until you're thirsty, it's too late. I find that I do better when I have water with me regardless of run length. I've tried going H2O-less on some short runs (e.g. when I only have time for a 15 minute run at work, and I'm doing a fast mile on the treadmill).  While I get through them, I find myself parched and uncomfortable.  I also personally feel that this impedes my performance.  I sweat a ton, so my body loses a lot of water quickly.  I ignore what people tell me, and I bring water, and I don't hold back drinking if I feel the desire or need.

Now, that said, I don't chug a ton of water.  I generally run with a small hand flask (I love the 22oz Nathan Sprint bottles, and have them with and without a little zippered compartment, which works really well for holding a car key, hotel room key or garage door opener), and take little shots or sips throughout my run, generally holding the water in my mouth for a bit to stave off that parched sensation without having to drink a lot to get there.  I usually finish a 3-4 mile run with half the flask available for the post run walk cool down.  For longer runs, I have a larger Nathan bottom that works well, but it is big, and you should be mindful of feeling too full and also of switching hands so you aren't weighted to one side the entire run.

I had people question why I had water for a 5K. I just said, "Because I do better with it." End of discussion. Some pointed out the water station at the 1 mile mark (that you can hit twice since the course was an out and back race). That water was cold - so nice and refreshing. And horrible for my stomach while running.  I don't drink cold water while running unless I want pain.  My water bottle had cool water (at least at the start, but it was warm by the end given the heat of the day), which went down easier.  The water stations provided some really nice cold showers to help bring my temperature back down and cool my core. If this was a marathon, that wouldn't work as well since I don't recommend carrying 2 gallons of your own water on such a long run, but for a 5K or 10K, this worked beautifully.

The Lesson
The lesson here is that you need to find out what works for you, is comfortable throughout your run (and afterward so you don't have a stomach ache from over-drinking or a headache from dehydration - or worse from either over- or under-hydration). No matter what you do, I don't recommend gulping huge quantities of water during a run.  Take small amounts periodically so your system isn't overloaded or feeling bloated (a friend ran a marathon doing this, and he said he felt like a big jug - very uncomfortable and slow race as a result). But don't limit the definition of training to putting miles in. It should include figuring out how your body needs to be hydrated (and fueled, how to dress, whether to use music, etc). Whatever works best for you is the right answer. Once you find that, don't deviate on race day because someone gives you other advice or a hard time.

These learnings, like most of my posts, are presented a bit free-form.  There's no explicit "do X to avoid Y" teaching so much as me sharing my thinking to help provoke thinking on your part.  After all, someone else telling you something will never allow you to develop as much as if you figure it out for yourself (albeit with a bit of guidance from a thought partner). That's how you enlighten.your.body.

Lessons for a First Time Racer - Part 2: Pace

June 1st, 2013 was the first time I ever did a running race.  I've run hundreds of miles since starting in February of 2012, but I got injured before I could enter a race (had to scratch my first one due to a re-herniated disc), and a few injuries and surgeries since then have gotten in the way.  Today, I completed one of the Susan G. Komen 5Ks (the most popular 5K series in the country) as my first race.  It's not the longest I've run (as it would have been when I signed up for it last year), but it was a totally different experience than running recreationally, and tougher in a different way than any other run I've done, distance and speed aside.  I learned a few things (or was made aware of things I need to learn more about), and thought it would be valuable to share those things.

I've organized these learnings into sections that I will post as separate blog entries.  This is the second part on pacing.  Be sure to check out the post on shoe strategy and the other on hydration.

Pace
You will hear people talk after a race about how they "went out too fast," or, "didn't pace myself," or, "didn't stick to my plan."  I always thought, "How could you allow that to happen?"  If you were aiming to run negative splits (getting faster with each successive mile to ensure you don't burn out early), why would you go out at a pace you've never sustained before?  If you were going to ignore other runners and 'run your own race' so you could manage to your goal pace, why would you allow yourself to get caught up in the game of picking people off to pass or pushing yourself to revenge-pass someone who just got in front of you?

Yeah, why, in deed.  That's a question a non-racer would ask.  I went out with a pace in the 6s.  I tend to run in the low 8s.  That's 25% faster than I tend to run.  My speed work is in the 7s, and I was still running faster than that in the first mile.  Why?  Well, I got caught up in the dynamics - mental and physical - of the race.  I wanted to break free from the crowd (which I kept telling myself to justify my potentially unsustainable pace - especially in 91˚ heat with near-100% humidity).  Then there was the threat of  a coworker in the race.  Office gossip was that we were racing each other.  He's better trained (having just did a fantastic job at a recent Ragnar, and recently done a 5K race at 1 1/2 minutes faster than my best training run yet).  Oh, and he's not just a coworker, he actually works for me.  While we said we weren't racing, there's pride in it under the surface, so that added pressure.  Then there's my concern that I'd crap out no matter what pace I was running at first, so I needed to get a head start so I could afford to walk a bit if I needed to.

In the end, I targeted a pace between 7'43" and 8'02" (what I needed to do a 24-25 minute 5K as I was aiming for a sub-25 minute finish as my goal).  I turned in a 7'28", finishing in 23:19 (according to my Nike+ SportWatch - still waiting on the official time).  So, it worked out, but it was a VERY risky and foolish approach.  If that was a longer race, I'd have failed to reach my target given the cost I was paying for that early pace in the first 1.5-2 miles.  Part of my time is really owed to my upper body training as I was pumping my arms pretty intensely for the last quarter mile to the finish, bringing my pace down to high 5s.  I easily cut 20-30 seconds off my finish with that last burst.  I'm lucky I had it, and am just so glad I've been working on my arms, pecks and shoulders.

The Lesson
So what are the learnings here? Well, the first is not to underestimate the dynamics of a race or of your mindset in the race. There's a reason why this is a typical newbie mistake - you don't realize the draw the event will have on your pace decisions and adherence to your race plan. Nor do you realize the power of that little voice inside you that didn't like getting passed by a guy pushing a stroller (yes, that happened to me at roughly the 1 mile mark).  I even gave myself a talk beforehand about ignoring these feelings, and kept having the same talk as I saw my pace and knew I was asking for trouble.  If you're strong enough to run fast, you're strong enough to run a little slower.  It's far better to have something left in the tank to push it in that last mile than it is to run out of steam and have no options left.

The counter argument to this is that I never walked, and finished with a good pace.  My fastest mile was 7'18.  My worst was 7'36".  That's right, my worst was still better than the low end of my goal pace. What that tells me is that I wasn't pushing myself hard enough when setting goals or training because I can clearly do much better than I ever thought I could.  I went into this race honestly thinking I could not pull off a 23-anything time.  Even if all of my miles were at my worst pace, I'd still have been in the 23s.

But the learning stands that I should have avoided 6-something pacing for the first half mile.  I had plenty of time to pass people, and was already out of the thickest bunch by the first quarter.  I probably would have turned in a slightly faster overall time and could have pushed it to a full sprint for an other couple of tenths of a mile.  It's about balance and seeing the forest for the trees.

These learnings, like most of my posts, are presented a bit free-form.  There's no explicit "do X to avoid Y" teaching so much as me sharing my thinking to help provoke thinking on your part.  After all, someone else telling you something will never allow you to develop as much as if you figure it out for yourself (albeit with a bit of guidance from a thought partner). That's how you enlighten.your.body.

Lessons for a First Time Racer - Part 1: Shoes

June 1st, 2013 was the first time I ever did a running race.  I've run hundreds of miles since starting in February of 2012, but I got injured before I could enter a race (had to scratch my first one due to a re-herniated disc), and a few injuries and surgeries since then have gotten in the way.  Today, I completed one of the Susan G. Komen 5Ks (the most popular 5K series in the country) as my first race.  It's not the longest I've run (as it would have been when I signed up for it last year), but it was a totally different experience than running recreationally, and tougher in a different way than any other run I've done, distance and speed aside.  I learned a few things (or was made aware of things I need to learn more about), and thought it would be valuable to share those things.

I've organized these learnings into sections that I will post as separate blog entries.  This is the first part on shoe strategy. Be sure to check out the post on pacing and the other on hydration.

Shoe Strategy
I went to the race with three shoes in my trunk and one pair on my feet.  I'm a minimalist guy, and really wanted to run in a minimalist shoe with an anatomical shape.  That would mean either my Adidas Adipure Gazelle or the even-more-anatomical Merrell Bare Access 2s.  The problem is, my Gazelles are a bit worn out (after only about 50 miles, I'm sorry to say), so I was concerned about feeling askew in them.  The Bare Access are fantastic shoes, and have a great toe box design with lots of room. However, I've found that my feet burn or feel rubbed raw in Merrells (still can't quite figure out which socks work best for this), and I ran with them in London for some longer distance runs, and the lack of soft cushioning really contributed to some nerve pain I had to deal with in the 2 weeks before the race.  With hike of the three tallest peaks in the Northeast over three days next weekend, a 3.5 mile race 10 days later and a 10K at the end of the month, I was nervous about using the Merrells.

That left me with my latest purchase, the Saucony Kinvara 4s.  I love these shoes a lot.  That said, I don't like the more traditional toe box as I feel squeezed (my minimalist running has spread my toes nicely).  I also find it's a little hard to get a good toe strike given the traditional design, despite the 4mm offset.  What I love is the light-weight feel of them (the Merrell's are actually a touch lighter, but these feel lighter as you expect them to be heavier than they are given their traditional look), and the excellent cushioning.  Some complain that they're squishy, but I don't really find that. They're not as solid when doing hard pivots or going down hill as the Adidas given the extra cushioning, but I wouldn't call them sloppy by any stretch.

What to wear, what to wear?  I went with the Merrells.  I regretted it almost instantly.  The reason is that they have a firmness to their overall construction that results in my finding it hard to get them to hold my foot stably inside. It's also likely that the great, wide, anatomical design is almost too wide for me, so there's just enough room for slop inside. I think that's why I feel like I'm running on sand paper a lot with them. It made me feel like the laces were too loose, and several times I looked down expecting them to be untied. Neither was true. I had pulled them tight before the race started, and they stayed tied. Don't get me wrong, I do love these shoes, but it became clear to me when I was really pushing the speed, pivoting around people and turning on roads a lot that I needed something a bit more glove-like.

I'm glad I didn't use the Gazelles as I feel like what little structure the uppers had in them is gone. What I should have done is what I was thinking all along - break out my new pair of Gazelles (I've only used them on treadmills, and for about 8 miles so far, so they're in great condition compared to the pair I brought with me).  The Gazelle has the perfect mix of shape, flex, cushion, light weight and comfort. It's one flaw is the laces and how quickly it wears out. I can't seem to get the laces to stay tied, even with double knots.

If I do nothing else, it would be to get Lock Laces for the Merrells and Gazelles.  I do think I will run my other Gazelles for my 3.5 mile race (JPMorgan Corporate Challenge), but use my Kinvaras for the 10K and Half I'm registered for.  All of this has me thinking I should be looking at the Saucony Virrata, but I have a feeling they're about to release a new version of it as you can start to find them with a nice discount (20% off at Running Warehouse).  I'd love two changes to them before buying them - 1) widen the toe box just a touch, and 2) put some rubber on the soles (at least in the forefoot) to increase their life (they're EVA+, which is just a denser/more durable foam).  Then they'd be hard for me to resist buying.

The Lesson
So the lesson here is to put some time aside to really think about what shoes you have at your disposal, what their pros and cons are, and then make the right call without any silly reasons for holding back. For me, my silly reason was fear of laces coming undone (I had time to get Lock Laces) and not wanting to wear out the newer pair of Gazelles.  That's really silly since they will ultimately wear out over the same number of miles.  It's not like not running in them will make them last for more miles ultimately.  It just means I'm wasting my investment in them.

These learnings, like most of my posts, are presented a bit free-form.  There's no explicit "do X to avoid Y" teaching so much as me sharing my thinking to help provoke thinking on your part.  After all, someone else telling you something will never allow you to develop as much as if you figure it out for yourself (albeit with a bit of guidance from a thought partner). That's how you enlighten.your.body.

People Don't Change, Lives Do - Part II

I wanted to go into the idea of how lives change a bit more. This is at the essence of my core values around hard work, diet, persistence and enlightenment.

I get questions from people all the time about some fad diet or fad workout program that promises that they'll drop X pounds or inches in Y weeks. I have no doubt that following these plans to the letter will likely return the kind of results they promise by the date they promise them by.

But that's just it. You can't really follow them to the letter while living your life in the real world, and you'll always be left with the question of what happens after that magic date Y weeks from now. Simple - you will return to the way you were before (or just about - maybe a little better, maybe a little worse off).  Why? You haven't learned how to live better.  You return to the same life based on the same flawed fundamentals.

See, everyone wants to look good for event (wedding, high school reunion, etc). I get it. But who doesn't want to look and, more importantly, feel good all the time? That doesn't come from shake diets. That comes from learning the building blocks of healthy eating and how to get and stay active.

Anyone can read the packaging on Slim-Fast or Hoodia or whatever gimmick you want to look at. It takes more to figure out how to eat smarter and live better. That takes help, guidance, and time. Time is the crucial element because it's how you really learn this stuff at a deeper level so you can sustain it. It becomes what you know naturally rather than something you need to refer to a convenient wallet card to understand to know how many points a turkey sandwich is.

I can help you learn what you need to know, and then you can help yourself change your life. That's how you enlighten.your.body.

People Don't Change, Lives Do - I Help Change Lives

People don't change...lives do.

-Me

I came up with that the other day, and it really struck me. I wanted to blog about this idea as I think it can be quite powerful. Ultimately, it's at the heart of what I try to do with newbodi.es - I try to help people change their lives - while remaining true to who they are.  Let me explain.

You hear two conflicting ideas about people and change:

1. A tiger can't change his stripes.
2. Everyone can change.

So which is it? I think they're actually not opposing, but rather are talking about different things.  And they're both true.  The idea of #1 is that a tiger's stripes are literally permanent.  It means we are, at our core, who we are.  Our bodies are somewhat fixed due to our genetics and life - we can't change our height, the number of limbs we have, etc.  We can't even change our hair color. I know, you're thinking, "Sure you can, you just dye it." No, you can't. You cover up the real color, but under that dye job, your real hair color remains. That's why people get roots when they dye their hair.

By the same token, aspects of our values and ethics are largely unchangeable as they have decades behind their development.  They can be tweaked, but they generally will remain. Perhaps not all of them, but enough for you to have an identity as a person. Don't agree with me? Would you ever kill someone for fun? Not self-defense, retribution, survival, etc.  Just for kicks.  Would you ever change that opinion?  See what I mean?  Notice I'm not assuming you would or wouldn't do it, just that your view on the matter is likely engrained permanently. Why is it so permanent? It's rooted in some very basic morals and values you hold - perhaps even subconsciously. These won't change on the whole (though they can be refined, of course).

Speaking more physically, if you want to become a great basketball player and are five feet tall, you can't work hard at being seven feet tall to be good.  You can become a great player regardless, but you can't change your height by will, reading, introspection or training.

These are the stripes of the tiger.  They don't change.  This is why I say, "People don't change."

Instead, what we can change is how we live. The choices we make around our actions and beliefs about what happens around us completely alter our lives. While the tiger's stripes are permanent, he can choose whether to eat that other animal. Whether you're a generally inactive person or not and whether you eat unhealthily or not, you can choose to go for a walk. You can choose to eat better. You can choose to believe this is good and feel good as a result. That good feeling will drive more good actions.

See, we are all dealt a hand in this card game. We can't change that. What we can change is how we play it. What strategy will we employ to win. We can also define what we consider to be winning (getting all the chips, having a great time, making stronger friendships during the game, etc).

You are who you are. That's fixed, but it's not a prison. Let's work together to change your life. It is how you enlighten.your.body.

Mind Over Miles

This post is long – very long, actually.  It’s the longest I’ve written. But that’s appropriate given the content and the message.  I hope you’ll read the entire post, and really take the message in as I think it can help.  I posted the essence to a running group I’m part of online, and the number of responses that came in almost instantly shows me how many people are out there thinking the way I was, and how much this message can help. It’s about persevering beyond your self-doubt to find a place where you achieve and grow.

On a recent business trip to London, I was going to get a chance to run with a coworker (Bill) who has done some very long races relative to the kind of mileage I put in (half marathon, Ragnar Ultra Marathon Relay).  We were talking about running along the River Thames together, which I love to do, but he was thinking of nothing major – just five miles or so.  The longest I had run was 4.2 miles, and I tore the lateral meniscus in my left knee on that run.  Since my knee surgery, the longest I had gone was 3.8 miles.  I had Bill beat speed-wise (or at least according to the self-deprecating pace he claimed to run at) by quite a margin, so I told myself going so much slower should make it ok.

I got to London a few days before Bill, so I decided I best give the distance a try.  I suited up as soon as I landed, having flown in on a Sunday.  With my compression socks pulled high and my big hand bottle filled up, I took to the Thames Path (some of the best running in a city you could imagine).

With a 5K race coming up, I figured I needed to at least pull off a 5K around my goal pace (aiming for sub-25 minutes), but anything beyond that was gravy, and I wasn’t sure I could do it.  It was very crowded on the path, so I got some good training on dodging and weaving, which I’m sure I’ll need for my upcoming race.  If you’re familiar with the Thames, I started at Tower Bridge across from Butler’s Wharf, crossed the river, and ran out through More London by City Hall toward The Eye, passing The Globe Theater and The Tate Modern along the way.  It’s really a great run.

I definitely had to push myself.  I figured it was because I had just come off a seven-hour flight and had been feeling sick for the past week.

I ran to the landmark he had mentioned for a there-and-back route (the London Eye, which is about 2.7 miles from our hotel).  I didn’t quite go all the way, and turned at 2.35 miles.

I was surprised at how fresh I was feeling – fresher than I had felt at the first mile.  My pace was about 7’40”, which was well under my target pace.  Good stuff.

The run continued with me crossing to the other side of the river, crossing on the Millennium foot-bridge.  Coming back on the other side is a mix of running along the river and having to break back into the city for a block or two as the path isn’t as direct as it is on the side I ran out on.

As I crossed the 5K mark, my pace was still sub-8, and I felt really good, but had developed a blister on my right foot that was really starting to bother me.  Despite that, I found some other runners, reeled ‘em in, and left ‘em behind.  I had to stop a couple of times to adjust my shoe to deal with my blister, so some of my victims overtook me.  Momentarily.  I found them all again, and got my kills back.  Awesome.

I really cooked a few times, getting my pace down below 7’ for some 200-800 repeats, and felt great (aside from my blister).  I came back to my hotel at 4.6 miles – a new record distance for me.  But it wasn’t enough – I had more in the tank, and needed to know I could do five before I risked humiliation in front of a coworker.  I basically ran back and forth in front of the hotel with my arm up so I could see my GPS watch until I hit five.  Slap the wrist and I’m done.  Wow.

I expected that to be my long run before Thursday when this guy and I were going to run again, and then that would be my long run for months to come.  I was right about the first part, but not the second.

On that run with Bill, he took off at 5:20am at a pace in the low 7s.  So much for his claim to run 9-10’ miles!  I was definitely working at it to keep up.  He insisted he’d be running out of steam soon, which he did, but never down to the 9s or 10s he claimed to run.  We settled in the low 8s, which I’m very comfortable at.  The first two miles took some work to keep sticking at – I could hear a voice inside saying, “It’s cool if you have to tell Bill you’re going to turn and head back. It’s ok if you’re not feeling it today. He’s a good guy. Don’t worry, just turn around. And it’s ok to stop and take a breather. He’s cool with it.”  The thing is, it’s the same voice I heard the whole first half of the run on Sunday, and that I tend to hear during my entire 2-3.5 milers, which is my typical distance.  As our pace settled and I warmed up, we started talking more, so I couldn’t hear the voice so much.  Suddenly, we reached The Eye before I knew it, and I realized I was feeling really good.  I had done a lot of first aid on my foot since Sunday, so my blister wasn’t an issue.  I was just feeling on top of my game all around.

And then it happened.  Only this time, ‘It’ was nothing.  No pain. No tiring out. No negative inner voice.  I was in a zone I’d never experienced before when running. It’s like I had gotten past some initial wall of mental traffic, and was suddenly cruising on an open freeway with a huge grin on my entire body.  Call it Flow, call it The Zone, call it a runner’s high, call it whatever.  I had hit a place where endurance wasn’t an issue.  I had hit a place where my body and my mind were in perfect sync, and both feeding off each other to the other’s benefit.  It was awesome.

I posted this in a running group I'm part of on Facebook, and got a response on the medical reasons for this:

And here’s the medical explanation…it’s ultimately about when your brain reads the signals that things need to change in how it’s dictating your systems and then how long before your body catches up given the deficit that’s built while your brain was ‘waking up’ to reality

We did 6.15 miles without realizing it.  I wish I knew so we could have made it a 10K (a quick run around the hotel would have been more than enough to get to 6.2 miles).   The thing is, I really could have kept going.  I wish I did – I honestly think I could have done 10 miles with the time I still had.  I ended up going to the hotel gym and doing 35 minutes on the elliptical, so I know I could have put in another 3-4 miles.

We emailed back and forth a bit, and I said we should do it again Friday.  I had to leave for the airport at 8, so I’d be up by 4, and would be game to hit it as soon as the sun came up (5:06am sunrise).  He emailed me at 5 to say he wasn’t up for it after a late night business dinner. I was bummed because I enjoyed his company, I wanted to show Bill the other side of the river (he’s never run by More London and wasn’t sure how to get to the other side, which can honestly be tricky with various stairs and some points where you have to go out a bit from the path to get back into it – at least to dumb Americans like me and him).  I was also bummed because I was afraid that my ability in the back half of the run came from Bill being there to push me and take my mind off things.  I had decided to run music-free this week, so I nervous about getting caught in my head too much.  I also had a really bad pain between my third and fourth met on my left foot.

I set out at 5:15am, crossed Tower Bridge, and told myself I needed to press to The Eye no matter what.  I had a plan for what to cover to get over six miles, and wanted to do seven.  My foot hurt, but I didn’t feel it as much if I focused on keeping my foot strong when I landed.

Sure enough, the first couple of miles were tough – not quite as tough as they had been on Sunday or with Bill the day before, but tough.  My foot hurt.  I was running slower on purpose because I was a little nervous about sparking an injury since I have a race coming up in two weeks and I did just run longer than I had ever run a mere 24 hours earlier.  I was in the 8’45” range, but actually decided not to look at my watch and just be a bit more disconnected.  I wanted to take things in – no music, no stressing the numbers, just enjoying the scenery and the run.

Next thing I know, I’m at The Eye, and a little bummed and want to run out past it.  I decided that wasn’t wise since a) it’s about three miles back, which could be tough if I was injured, b) I didn’t have time to walk back if I was injured or I’d be late for my flight home, c) I had no money, Tube pass or credit cards to buy my way back if I couldn’t run, and d) I wanted to run past Tower Bridge to Butler’s Wharf so I wanted to keep a little gas in the tank for that extra bit before heading back to the hotel.  I turned, and started back.

My foot hurt, but that was it. I had no problem otherwise. I actually had to remind myself that I need to be careful of my foot since my gait is probably off due to the pain when my left foot strikes, so I could injure something else or get some new blister.  I kept going anyway, and my mind and body were in that zone again – even when my foot sent sharp pains through my body.  I’ll admit my forefoot strike that I’m so proud of digressed into heel striking about 40% of the time to stay off those mets, but I kept going.

I came charging across Tower Bridge in the 7s, and started really pumping my arms to finish.  Slap the watch, and look down.  I had just crossed the 10K mark, which was awesome, but I was expecting my distance to start with a 7.  I decided I needed to do a cool down run, so I ran in the 9s around St. Katherine’s Dock (which is a beautiful little area), putting in another 0.68 on top of the 6.3 I had already clocked.  If only I knew I was .02 miles off from officially hitting seven rather than rounding to seven.  And my body and mind were still synced up, so that leisure pace dropped down into the 7s again – I couldn’t help myself.

I realized what was happening.  Biologically, there are reasons why I needed a warm up to get my body flowing, but mentally, I needed just a touch more distance, and then it was a light switch flick reaction.  Now that I’ve run past that place of doubt rather than always taking it as a sign that something is likely wrong and I need to stop – that is, interpreting it from a pessimistic and fearful perspective – I’ve allowed my mind to unlock.  What I’ve found on the other side of that door is amazing.  Putting specific pains aside (blisters, met pain, etc), I literally feel like my only constraint is time.  It’s an unreal and incredibly freeing and empowering feeling.

What I took away is the need to keep pushing myself regularly.  I need to seek a personal record (PR) every day – whatever that might and however it might be measured.  If we don’t push, we don’t grow.  We don’t achieve.  We don’t empower ourselves and see our true strength from within, which is a much more impactful place to see it from than from an external source.  I empowered myself to achieve and found this amazing place I wanted to perform at from now on.  How will you find that line so you can cross it and empower.your.body?