Runners' Lost and Found

Tuesday’s much-awaited easy 2-miler was run at an “easy” pace, but the run was anything but easy. Was it the heat? I hope. Perhaps it was just a bad day. Whatever it was, I struggled to keep up with 10:00/mile.

For the entire run I felt like I was on the verge breaking out of the lactic threshold. But my legs just lingered. After the first mile (when my legs, even my pained calf, are generally warmed), my legs just felt stiffer and stiffer with each stride. For a minute I thought that the past several months was all a dream. I wasn’t a runner after all. I hadn’t run 12 miles on Sunday. I didn’t have a summer of races under my belt.

But then I started being practical. These weren’t my legs! Sure, they’re the stubby, knee-scarred things I’m used to trotting on, but they weren’t my running legs. So, when I came home I made and posted the following sign all over Summit County:

OK, I didn’t actually post that sign. But I am desperately trying to figure what has happened. I’m also trying to calm myself down. We’ve all had bad running days, so I’m pinning my hopes on that notion. Just a bad day.

And Saturday will be a fantastic day. Whatever legs show up at the starting line.

Now I’m going to rest until Saturday, stretch and ice my calf, and eat my carbs. Mmm, gnocchi and grilled plums, here I come!

A New Day, A New Goal

Why wait until next month when I can pledge a bonus 30 miles for the remainder of January? (Now that's more bang for your blogging buck!)

But before you knew I was headed that way, I crossed off 4 miles today as a beginning to the latter half of the month. Since I had the day off of work, I also put in a 1,500-yard mini swimming workout too:

500 yards free
400 yards IM kick
200 yards free
400 yards IM

I will be swimming tomorrow, so I tried to keep today's training light. Although, I must admit, I hadn't realized how tired my body actually gets when I run. I took the four miles fairly fast today and then headed straight for the pool.

Only 100 yards into the swim, my arms were heavy and I struggled to get past that threshold. In fact, I don't even know that I ever did get past it! Lap after lap, I just kind of struggled.

My training schedule has been consistent for several months, so the idea that I've fallen out of shape isn't right (knock on wood).

A small part of me was a little glad my arms were tired: perhaps I just used them sufficiently during the run, that I had learned to use them effectively, that my stride had improved and I had become that much better in the course of just a few days. Or I needed to stop running like Phoebe Buffay.

Either that or my body was just a sea of lactic acid. (That's just my excuse. I watched an ESPN feature during the 2004 Summer Olympics that mentioned Michael Phelps' abnormally low levels of lactic acid, and now I'm jealous. You can learn, however, why "Lactic Acid May Not Cause Muscle Fatigue" from a report on NPR.)

When I swim tomorrow (I'll rest for the remainder of today), I'll figure out whether it was the running or something far more sinister.

What's up next? Back to the stroke and stride clinic with Part II.