New minimalist shoes on the horizon

I haven't run much lately, although I've been doing core-work and calisthenics every other day or so, thanks to my seven-year-old.  She saw me doing one workout while we all watched TV and wanted to join in.  Now, she's on me every day to teach her how to work out -- like I have any business teaching anybody any such thing.  But my love for her is boundless, and my desire for a better-looking upper body means my summer is becoming one of squats and lunges, bicep curls and push ups, and lots of crunches.  I've only been doing this faithfully a week or so, but I think my belly is toning up a little. 

Since I don't have any actual running to discuss, I might as well talk about minimalist footwear.  Al Gauthier over at Living Barefoot brought to my attention a few new minimalist shoes coming out in the next year or so.  I've heard of Skora, but the Kigo and Alterra are new to me.  I'd love to get my hands on a pair of any of these.  Not only do all of these shoes look promising, I doubt my wife and my friends would make fun of me for wearing them like they do with Vibram.  Anything that wins me less mockery is a good thing.  Here are my first impressions.

• Kigo features a four different models that look quite similar to the swim shoes you can buy at Walgreens for $5.  Of course, they look nicer and appear to be much higher quality.  Still, aesthetically, they look like swim shoes to me.  I imagine they give a fair approximation of barefoot running, what with their extremely thin sole, but I worry that the upper would restrict the natural splay of the toes.  They retail for $40 to $70 depending on the model.
• Alterra will be selling their Adam and Eve shoes in the fall of this year.  Adam, as you might imagine, is the male version; Eve is for the ladies.  These look like souped-up swim shoes.  The key difference, and the one that makes me much more interested in trying them out, is that the toe box is much wider than with the Kigos, allowing the toes more room for doing their thing.  Apart from what I see on their website, I know nothing else about the shoe, not even what they will cost.  Still, they look interesting.
• Skora -- still in the R&D phase, it seems -- seems to be shooting for a design that resembles racing flats.  The concept drawings in their newsletters are sleek and high-tech looking.  There is much to read but little to actually see at their website, but what I read sounds good.  They seem to be coming from a good place, philosophically.  I'm very interested in seeing what they come up with.

2011 may be the year of barefoot running given all the chatter in the blogosphere and in traditional print media, not to mention the new products and companies sprouting up to support the trend.  We'll see how it goes.

Strike while the iron is cool and breezy

Wifey shook me out of bed this morning at 2 AM and sent me to the store for fruit and gummi bears.  Blueberry [what we're calling the fetus until it's larger than a blueberry] was hungry and hot with wrath last night, turning poor Wifey's inward parts inside out and upside down.  I learned a couple things. 

1. You'd think 2:00 AM would be a great time to go grocery shopping, but you'd be wrong.  True, it's empty of other customers but full of joyless, nocturnal drones stocking the shelves.  Pallets of stuff were everywhere, making it hard to navigate efficiently.
2. 2:00 AM is a great time to run, and I should have seized the opportunity.  But I didn't.  The weather this morning was absolutely perfect: slightly cool, clear, and slightly breezy.  Running in such weather would have been a dream, especially given the swampy weather we've had lately.  Instead, I chose to get back to bed and sleep in.  I was a fool.  If I do run today, it'll be after work when it'll be hot as the devil's yam-bag.

If I am going to succeed in running consistently during Wifey's pregnancy, I'm going to have to leap through the windows opened for me by circumstance.  Otherwise, I am going to miss runs or die of heat stroke.

Have a good weekend, y'all. 

Project Barefoot update

A year ago, I bought a pair of Nike Free 5.0s with the intent of transitioning toward barefoot, or at least minimalist, running.  To date, I have put more than 600 miles on the Nikes, including training for and running the 2009 Chicago Marathon.  They've been great shoes, and I still like them.  They still have miles left in them, in fact.  But at some point I knew I would need to bite the bullet and take the next step.  Since Nike discontinued the 3.0 model for a while, I decided if I wasn't ready to go the Full Monty [literally, barefoot], I was ready to run in a thong [literally, minimal shoes.]

Enter the huaraches, which I made myself out of nylon cord and rubber.  I ran in them a couple times this spring.  Apart from the cord rubbing holes in my instep and feeling like it was going to unwind with every footfall, the sandals worked well in the sense they protected my feet.  However, they catastrophically failed the Wife test.  I tried hiding them as long as I could, but inevitably, she saw the horrid things.  Wifey took one look and ... well, ... she employed her excellent command of English and rhetoric to make it clear how ridiculous I looked. 

Serendipitously, our local trail store had a sale around this time, so I bought a pair of Vibram FiveFinger Sprints.  Since acquiring them, I have slowly incorporated them into my weekly miles, being careful to not to run too much too soon in order to get accustomed to them.  Each week, I had this mental spreadsheet of how many miles I ran in them last week, and how much more I ought to run in them this week.  10%?  Ten percent of 18 is one point eight, round up to two.  Mustn't over do it.  Then, I'd skip a week of using them for whatever reason, and what did that mean?  Should I back off to the number of miles I ran previously or run what I forecast I ought to be running now?

In short, this gradual approach was too much for me to handle.  Therefore, this week, I have been running exclusively in the Vibrams.  On Monday, I ran three miles on a treadmill.  Today, I ran three on the street.  Right now, my calves are tight and sore, and I have a blister on the ball of my right foot.  [My first running blister ever.  No shit.]  Obviously, there has been some discomfort.  But I am not discouraged.  Tomorrow, I will do another three in them unless it's too painful to do so.  If it is, I will revert to shoes.  I still have the Nikes.

That's going to be my approach from now on.  Running in Vibrams will be the default.  Running in shoes will be for when it's too painful to do otherwise or the course too treacherous. I'll let you know how it goes.

The best laid plans of mice and blueberries

I took a week off to nurse a tender ankle and Achilles tendon.  I hesitate to call this an injury or an injury-related hiatus.  I just had some tenderness after the trail race, and rather than worsen the problem, I chose to play it safe.  I walked, rode my bike with my daughter, and stayed active.  I just didn't run.  Not running bugged me, but I think I am better off for it.  Today, I ran three miles on the treadmill here at work and felt fine.  I set it for a 2% grade and sped up every mile until I was doing an 8'22" pace.  As much as I hate treadmills, I hate melting more.  The weather at lunchtime was 90° with 63% humidity. 

Enough of the past. Let's talk about the future. As a prophet once said, "We are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives."  I'm no longer planning on a fall marathon.  Nor is a spring marathon very likely.  Y'see, the missus and I are expecting another bundle from the stork.  [Pardon the adult language.]  The newbie is about 5-6 weeks along now and the size of a blueberry.  Due date: the first week of February.  We're all terribly excited.  But I've been officially warned about three-hour training runs and five-hour races that make me useless for the weekend.  Therefore, until further notice, let's call my training plan base-building. 

I hope to still race, but I have a feeling any races will be spontaneous decisions on a Friday night -- small, local races of 10 kilometers or less.  As always, I'll keep you posted.

Summer of lameness

Friends, I have been a slug lately.  Sore since the race, I haven't done a mile, though I've had every opportunity and lots of nice weather, relatively speaking.  I get up, take an assessment of my body, and decide another hour of sleep will do me good.  The rest has been helpful.  Now my ankles and other creaky parts are no longer hurting, so I am going to run tonight -- honest.  Or tomorrow morning.  Honest. 

In the meantime, here is a picture of a bunny.

Indian/Celina afterthoughts

Though I may have complained a bit in my race report, I want my final words on the 2010 Indian/Celina Challenge to be positive. I loved this race.

Today, just two days after the event, my inbox contained an email from the race director containing links to a post-event survey, to the race results, and to the Picasa Web Album wherein you can find snapshots of the race victims.  That is great service.  I cannot complain about anything related to the race, its management, the locale, the volunteers, or anything. The race was managed phenomenally well, and I am not just saying that because I placed first in my age group.  Did I mention that I placed first in my AG?  I placed first in my AG.

This was the hardest race I have run since my first marathon, and we all remember what a bastard that was.  The terrain would have been a challenge if it hadn't been muddy and the streams had been dry.  As it was, it was brutal, exhausting, and frustrating; yet in the end, I had a great time.  Frankly, I cannot wait until next year to come run the half [or full] marathon. 

My biggest lesson from this race was that I need to get into much better shape.  I need to train my upper body, especially.  I have no muscle tone whatsoever up top.  Some muscle upstairs would have helped me pull myself up those hills.  More hill work would have strengthened my legs enough to manage that bitch of a 3 mile climb.  All it would take is 20-30 minutes a night of core work and push ups and more hills and trails during the week.  Honestly, it wouldn't have taken much additional work to have made my race experience less ... um... humbling.

But make no mistake.  Everyone had trouble with this course, especially with the mud and especially with the humidity.  Even the race director, who ran the half marathon course later in the day, remarked of the near-Atlantean humidity.  Gills would have helped.  Or amphibian skin.

But I can't wait for next year.  This was a fun, fun race.  I strongly recommend it.

Indian/Celina Challenge Race Report

Small races can be the best races, and the Indian/Celina Challenge is a perfect example.  It's the sort of race that lets a chubby slob like me win first in my age group, for instance.  But we are getting ahead of ourselves.  I have to tell you why this race impressed me even before I arrived at the trail head.  A week or two before the race, we received a race manual via email.  It talked about what to expect on race day, the gear check process, the shuttle service, and what's available to eat after we finish.  Standard stuff, right?  The race manual also had very helpful tidbits like that black flies were a big nuisance right now, and we should spray ourselves and wear hats unless we want buzzing company for 8, 13.1, or 26.2 miles.  This proved to be invaluable but ultimately meaningless advice, as I will go into soon.  Oh hell, let's get on with it.

Pre-race
Leading up to the race, I was afraid I would be running trails in a thunderstorm.  Though it rained the day and night before the race, this morning was cloudy, humid, and foggy, but the rain stayed away.  Thank gods for that.  A muddier race would have been awful.  I arrived a little later than I had hoped.  I hastily parked, grabbed my gear, and sped to the shuttle that took us from the parking area to the start.  I  brought with me my hydration belt and my keys.  I thought about other things I would need, but I was wise to rush out without this extra clutter.  I was burdened enough with what I had.  The shuttles were frequent and speedy.  We quickly found ourselves in the starting area, and I stood in line for the loo.  Like every race I have been in these past couple years, even though I went to the bathroom a half-dozen times this morning, 3 minutes before the start I had to pee badly.  No worries.  I got in and out and was ready when the race director yelled GO!

Miles 0-3
This race bragged about how tough it was on its web page.  This bragging was warranted.  This was tough-going.  Up and down like a bride's nightie and tons of mud.  Parts of the trail were like chocolate pudding with boulders in it.  And little streams and creeks every quarter mile or so. This wasn't what made it so hard though.  Hills are hills.  But the humidity must have been near 100%.  I was soaked within 10 minutes, and I stayed that way until I got in my car later on and blasted the air conditioning.  I felt like I was underwater.  But life didn't really get unpleasant until the 8-milers [my people] split off from the marathoners and half-marathoners [the god-people.]

Miles 4-6
After an aid station with delicious, delicious Gatorade at mile 3.5 or so, we split.  The eight mile course turned onto an access road, and this was the most unpleasant part of the whole day.  When I say it was uphill the whole way, you might think, "Oh, he's exaggerating."  But I want you to believe me when I say that it was a nearly constant uphill grade for nearly three miles.  On coarse, loose gravel.  Honestly, I walked most of it, because I felt like this race had beaten me.  The half-marathoners were seeing some country, enjoying their trails, and here I was sucking wind up a goddamn gravel road, orbited by a damned black fly.  I hated that fly.  And I sweat.  And I sweat.  [Obviously I had long sweat off my bug spray.]  But all good things must come to an end.  The gravel road emptied onto a paved road, and we were back on the trails, so to speak.

Miles 7-8
After a brief road jog, we ducked back onto the trail.  After the long walk uphill, the trails were easy going.  I still walked up the hills, but I was feeling much better these last two miles than I had felt all day.  I was more confident; I felt strong.  There's nothing more to tell about this part of the race.  We exited the trail and ran downhill to the finish line.  When I approached the "chute" [such as it was], the race volunteer asked me to call out the last three digits of my number.  When I did, she said I was first place in my age group and handed me a Sigg bottle with the race logo painted on it.  Awesome.  I walked about a third of the race, and I still finished first in my AG?  I'm not asking questions.

Post race
After finishing, my first thought was to tear off my shoes.  They were soaked and thickly covered in mud, as was everything below my knee.  [I ran in Nike Frees. Running in Vibram Sprints would have been a disaster. The Nike Frees weren't great to run in, but at least they shielded me from the endless gravel and tree roots.]  After shedding my shoes, I wolfed down a couple burgers.  They had a grill going, and that was awesome. If they had beer, I would have been hugging people.  I appreciated the cheeseburgers, though.  Not many races have that.  I hung out for a while, watching some of the marathoners prepare for their second lap around the half marathon course.  After my feet dried out for a while, I found myself wanting a bath and home.

Final thoughts
This is a supremely well-managed, well-executed race.  I loved getting the manual long before race day so I could prepare.  I loved the communication from the race director. He was super.  The course was well marked. The volunteers [the local cross country team, which the race director coaches] were superb.  Even though the gravel part sucked, I still had a great morning.  I look forward to running the half marathon next year.  You ought to think about it, too.

Can you spot the lame joke?

I don't have much to say today except that I nearly melted on my lunch-time run.  Seriously, when will I ever learn?  This morning it was gorgeous, and yet I chose to sleep in.  This afternoon, it was around 85° with 60% humidity.  On the good side, I did run instead of blowing it off entirely.  There was a strong risk of that happening because I am extremely tired.  I haven't been sleeping well, which is why I blow off my morning runs.

This weekend, my intention is to run 10 miles, mostly if not entirely on trails.  This is my last run before the eight-mile trail race I'm doing next weekend.  No word on whether Eminem will be there. 

Aside from running, this is going to be an action-packed weekend full of outdoor activities with the family.  I wonder whether I will get any decent rest at all? 

Have a good one, dear reader.

I almost stepped on Mothra

I received the race manual for the Indian/Celina Challenge that I am running on the 12th.  I love these smaller races.  This is a race that prides itself "on being nearly sponsor-free."  [All quotes herein lifted from the manual.]  I can expect a shirt and one or two other doo-dads, but not a bag full of crap most of which I'll end up throwing away.  There will be no bibs or chips.  Our numbers will be written on our hands or arms at the starting line, and volunteers will keep track of us at aid stations to make sure everyone stays honest.  Awesome.

The Challenge has a full marathon, a half mary, and an eight miler.  I'm doing the eight miler.  Given my limited experience with trail running, that's as much as I feel comfortable doing. 

The starting time for all three races is 6:30 AM.  We eight-milers will follow the marathoners for the first four miles before splitting off.  I should expect the course to be up and down, up and down, with creek crossings and big rocks on the trail.  We are warned, "DO NOT EXPECT TO SET A PERSONAL BEST!!  The course is difficult and your overall time will reflect this." 

After the race, they will be grilling burgers and hot dogs for us.  Honestly, I think this sounds as fun as a bucket of puppies.  I cannot wait to see what this race is going to be like.  It sounds wild.

Today, I ran 2.5 easy miles around my neighborhood in Vibrams.  I took it slow and enjoyed the fog, the half moon, and the cool temperature.  I saw 1,000 rabbits and one butterfly as big as my hand.  I'm not joking.  It was 4-5 inches across, brown, with big spots like eyes on the bottom wings.  I'd try to identify it but that sounds boring.  I'll just call it Mothra.  I saw Mothra on my run.  No Mothra fairies, though. 

June's most boring post so far

Last week I was a good boy, more or less.  I ran 20 miles for the week, just shy of my goal of 25 miles because I cut short my long run on Sunday.  I was suffering some tummy troubles and felt weak.  The first lap around the park nearly wiped me out.  Honestly, I felt unsafe.  I didn't have the guts to attempt a second lap.  I'm mixed on whether I did the right thing or not, quitting early.  I mean, I did clear out all the spider webs in Cherokee Park on the first go-round.  And seeing a turtle was cool.  On the other hand, "waves of nausea" aren't obstacles I feel I need to overcome during miles 6 through 10 when there isn't a medal at stake. 

Today was better.  I ran five in the heat.  The heat [81° and 68% humidity] was my punishment for failing to run in the cool, but humid, early morning hours.  I will never learn. 

I'm not feeling very chatty today, so I will leave you on this note.  I have my marathon training plan in place for the fall.  It starts at the end of the month.  I'm doing the FIRST plan again, but I am doing it based on a 5K time that's about 20 seconds slower than last time.  My tempo runs and long runs ought to be marginally easier.  Intervals suck no matter what.  But that's what I have to look forward to starting June 28 until October 17, 2010. 

During this month, I'll be doing pre-marathon-training training.  I am going to gradually build to 30 miles per week and start doing some weight lifting and core-work to tone up my upper body.