9 months to race day

Only (only?) 270 days remain until the Carmel Marathon. I have never looked ahead to a race so far out. Perhaps that means I’m taking this race more seriously … or perhaps it’s just a function of the longings of deployment life. Either way, my sights are set on April 4, 2020, when I will run through my adopted hometown and, God willing if I do all the hard work and perform as I think I can, qualify for the 2021 Boston Marathon.


God willing?

So, I crossed out God willing, above. I first typed it because that’s what one says. It’s what I often say. “God willing, X or Y will happen.” But I will run a good marathon on April 4, 2020 not if God is willing, but if I do the work, if my body doesn’t break down, if I don’t get deathly ill, if the weather is not horrible, if I don’t get mauled by an alien panda along the course, and so forth.

Of course, in the classical sense of a God who is omnipotent and omnipresent and omnieverything, God can will that Chris Duckworth run a crappy race. I guess. And God can will that galloping unicorns shoot glitter laser bolts at evildoers of all kinds, too. But God doesn’t do such things.

My reading of Scripture reveals that God is much more concerned with the human heart, the faithfulness of those who call on God’s name, and the well-being of the poor than God is concerned with how a middle-aged guy runs a race. What does the LORD require of us? To do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God (Micah 6:8). There’s nothing in there about running a marathon. If anything, my intermittent obsession with running risks becoming a trip down vanity lane and an exercise in self-idolatry.

And more … if we say “God willing” or “thank God” for everything that is actually a function of our own work, we get into dicey territory of claiming that our achievements are God’s will. And if my achievements are God’s will, then shoot … I’ve just made God in my own image and so closely aligned myself with God that my actions and his are indistinguishable. Bam! Idolatry again. And idolatry is dangerous for how we relate to God, to each other, and to ourselves. But more on that another day.

Here’s the deal: I’m pretty sure God doesn’t give a hill of beans if I run a fast marathon … but I do. And that’s good enough for me.

So, does faith have anything to do with running?

I am grateful to God for the relative gifts I have as a runner, for the introspection that running inspires within my heart and mind, and for the challenges that running presents to me. I avoid definitively declaring God’s will in my life. But I do give thanks for God’s blessings, if that makes any sense. Running is a blessing.

And more. God calls us to care for ourselves and others. Running is one of those ways that I care for myself. And, at times running has deepened friendships and fostered new relationships. Such relationships and friendships are sacred places of mutual trust and care – a real blessing.

Running buddies as sacred? Yes. Let me explain.

At the least, if I fall down in a ditch on an early morning run, I’m trusting that my running partner will help me up. But more. There’s something vulnerable about sharing in and enduring a physical struggle with someone else. It’s an odd kind of intimacy, of opening yourself to the limits of your own physicality, facing your own limits and daring to share and push those limits with someone else … all while they share the same with you. In my experience, that kind of mutual sharing of vulnerability is humbling, holy, and encouraging – and in my book, that’s a blessing.

Finally, I’m a better human being when I run. That, perhaps, is the best reason for me to run. It makes me a more pleasant person, a more faithful pastor, and a better husband, father, and Soldier.

OK. So faith certainly plays a role in my running. But I’m not going to say God’s will is for me to run a Boston Qualifer. That’s a claim too far for me.

Back to the boring running part of this post.


So, I have 270 days, approximately 9 months, until the Carmel Marathon. I outlined how I got to this point in my last running blogpost, a few weeks ago. This post is more of a long, boring status update on running – shoes, mileage, and weight.

Shoes

When I was home two months ago on emergency family leave I picked up two additional pairs of running shoes – my standard Brooks Glycerins, which I’ve been running in for years, but also a pair of Hoka Bondis.

The Hokas feel like I’m wearing a platform shoe. I had a great pair of stylin’ platform shoes back in the late 90’s, and these remind me of them – at least in the sense of lift they give me. And running on them for the first time this morning felt really awkward for the first mile or so … but then I forgot about them and ran as normal.

Currently I have two pairs of Brooks Glycerins that I’m wearing – one at 320.5 miles, and one at 277.9 miles. Based on my past history I will need to replace both of these pretty soon. I’m trying out these Hokas to see if I like them, and if I want to order another pair. Otherwise, I have one more new pair of Glycerins with me, and can switch to them and order additional shoes for the next few months. At the mileage I’m running, I’ll need a few more pairs of shoes for the deployment.

Mileage

I ran 155 miles last month, and I expect that number to climb through the summer and into the fall, as least incrementally. Over the past few weeks I’ve run anywhere from 33-42 miles/week, and I’m feeling great. In the past I’ve only cleared 25 miles/week when I’ve been in a formal marathon training program. At nine months out from the marathon and running this kind of mileage – with two weekly speed workouts, a long run (currently at 12 miles, with a 14 miler scheduled for this weekend), and easy runs – I’m getting stronger and building more of a base than I ever have this far in advance of a marathon. I’m excited.

I broke my consecutive days streak at 50 days, and have since taken two days off. Two days off within a week was too many, even if it felt nice to sleep in one day (the other day my schedule wouldn’t allow for a morning run). I like running every day, even if it is an easy, slow 2-3 miler on a rest day. I imagine I’ll take a day off here and there, but otherwise I don’t see many days off in my future.

Weight

I’ve dropped probably about 25-30 pounds since the start of the deployment five months ago. I say probably, because I was so ashamed of my weight back in January and February, just prior to the mobilization, that I wouldn’t even step on a scale. I was 242 somewhere in late January, when one day I mustered up the will to weigh myself. Lordy, the pre-deployment stress eating was intense!

I last weighed in at 214.6 lbs. To meet my Army weight, I still have about 12-15 to go (203 lbs is the max weight for my height, gender, and age that doesn’t require the Army’s “tape test,” a body mass index-type of measurement). I attribute my weight loss to the structure of Army life where I have less ready access to a box of Goldfish crackers or Cheez-Its, increased physical exercise (both through running and lots, lots of walking), and to some modification of my diet. But to reach my weight goals – to get under 200 lbs and stay there – I’ll need to make more significant, and lasting, changes to my diet. That’s my next step in this process. It’s not something that will come overnight, but it will come.

From Race Prep to Building a Base

I just completed a rather dumb training cycle. With just a few sub-100 mile months under my belt after two months of near zero training due to injury and a cross country move, I decided last fall to run a spring marathon … and to use the Hansons Marathon Method Advanced Program to help me achieve that goal.

So I went from less than 100 miles combined over last June, July and August, Last 12 months mileageand September, October, and November each in the 80-ish mile range, to cranking out four consecutive 150+ mile months (two of those months over 200 miles) in my marathon training program.

It felt great at times. But it also hurt at times. On race day I met my goal of running a sub-3:30 marathon, but I wasn’t quite ready for it. I don’t recommend this kind of running. I needed more of a base, and a more gradual increase in my weekly and monthly mileage. (For the long boring race report/post-mortem of my race, visit my Running Ahead training log here).

So now I’m building a base. Runners with a strong base are stronger, better runners. I want to be a stronger, better runner. I’ve never built a base, but have mostly geared up for races, finished the races, and then – due to injury or life change – stopped running for a period. I’m done with that kind of running. Now is time to build the base.

Though I have some racing goals in mind, my primary goal now is to just keep running, with less intensity but with disciplined regularity, to build my mileage base, get stronger, and increase my endurance. From weeks in the high 50s and low 60s during my marathon training plan, I’m dialing back to 35-40 miles per week (150 miles per month). But unlike I’ve ever done, I hope to string together several months of regular running with consistent miles. Perhaps I’ll intersperse these miles with a few races, but the primary focus will be the disciplined, yet less exciting, goal of building a base.

It’s easy to get up early on a dark, rainy day when you’ve got a marathon on the calendar and a personal record to chase. This new stage of training – with no personal record or marathon on the immediate horizon – will be a new kind of challenge for me.

Still, I have a few race goals for the next few months. For one, I want to go sub-6:00 in the mile. When I was 16 years old I ran 4:23. Those days are LONG gone. However, last year I did surprise myself in an open mile in Minneapolis and ran a 6:03. With more training already this year than I had at that time last year, I am pretty confident I can go under 6:00 – perhaps even close to 5:50 … but we’ll see. I’ve signed up for the inaugural Monumental Mile on June 5 in downtown Indianapolis. Should be fun.

The other race goal I have for the short-term is to drop my half marathon time. In Saturday’s full marathon I hit my half marathon split at just 12 seconds off my half marathon personal record. If I ran a half marathon at just 12 seconds off my personal record, and then continued to run another 13.1 miles, I know I can drop a few minutes from that PR in an open half marathon. But the problem with reaching this goal is that I won’t be in respectable half marathon race condition until sometime in June … and after the end of May there are very few half marathons in the region until late September, when I will report to Ch-BOLC (Chaplain Basic Officer Leadership Course) to begin my training as a Chaplain in the Indiana Army National Guard.

So the goal for the moment is base-building. Get out there and run 5-6 miles three days/week (easy pace); 7-8 miles two days/week (with a moderate tempo and/or fartlek workout); and a 10ish mile long run. Though I’ve just trained like a madman with 3:50am alarms and 12-14 miles before sunrise some days, this shift to a different kind of training is likely to be my hardest challenge yet.

Wish me luck, please.

The Bible’s “Marathon” Verses – 26:2

Bible 26:2

I am running my second-ever marathon this Saturday. A marathon is 26.2 miles. For no reason other than the novelty of it, I present here every chapter 26, verse 2, of the Bible – out of context, and perhaps quite odd to read in isolation from the broader story of the text.

The marathon distance is rather arbitrary, and the assignment of verse numbers to Scripture texts wasn’t exactly a precise science, either. I’m no believer in hidden codes in Scripture, nor that the chapter/verse numbers themselves have any intrinsic meaning. I just like marathons and I like the Bible.

That being said, I will certainly carry Job 26:2 with me during Saturday’s race: “How you have helped one who has no power! How you have assisted the arm that has no strength!” If I run this race correctly, I should be pretty much out of power and without strength at the end of the race (and hopefully have a new personal record). This Saturday I will certainly find comfort in the God who helps one who has no power.

I am grateful for the gifts and opportunities God has given to me to run and to train. Running truly gives me such joy, and is a great way for me to revel in the gift of life God has given me. I look forward to celebrating God’s gifts over a 26.2 mile course this Saturday.

Soli Deo Gloria.

Genesis 26:2
The Lord appeared to Isaac and said, “Do not go down to Egypt; settle in the land that I shall show you.”

Exodus 26:2
The length of each curtain shall be twenty-eight cubits, and the width of each curtain four cubits; all the curtains shall be of the same size.

Leviticus 26:2
You shall keep my sabbaths and reverence my sanctuary: I am the Lord.

Numbers 26:2
“Take a census of the whole congregation of the Israelites, from twenty years old and upward, by their ancestral houses, everyone in Israel able to go to war.”

Deuteronomy 26:2
You shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground, which you harvest from the land that the Lord your God is giving you, and you shall put it in a basket and go to the place that the Lord your God will choose as a dwelling for his name.

1 Samuel 26:2
So Saul rose and went down to the Wilderness of Ziph, with three thousand chosen men of Israel, to seek David in the Wilderness of Ziph.

1 Chronicles 26:2
Meshelemiah had sons: Zechariah the firstborn, Jediael the second, Zebadiah the third, Jathniel the fourth.

2 Chronicles 26:2
He rebuilt Eloth and restored it to Judah, after the king slept with his ancestors.

Job 26:2
“How you have helped one who has no power! How you have assisted the arm that has no strength!”

Psalm 26:2
Prove me, O Lord, and try me; test my heart and mind.

Proverbs 26:2
Like a sparrow in its flitting, like a swallow in its flying, an undeserved curse goes nowhere.

Isaiah 26:2
Open the gates, so that the righteous nation that keeps faith may enter in.

Jeremiah 26:2
Thus says the Lord: Stand in the court of the Lord’s house, and speak to all the cities of Judah that come to worship in the house of the Lord; speak to them all the words that I command you; do not hold back a word.

Ezekiel 26:2
Mortal, because Tyre said concerning Jerusalem, “Aha, broken is the gateway of the peoples; it has swung open to me; I shall be replenished, now that it is wasted.”

Sirach 26:2
A loyal wife brings joy to her husband,
and he will complete his years in peace.

Matthew 26:2
“You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified.”

Acts 26:2
“I consider myself fortunate that it is before you, King Agrippa, I am to make my defense today against all the accusations of the Jews.”

* all bible verses from the New Revised Standard Version

 

Short-term commitment to church? I can relate.

The other day I wrote about my struggle to keep running after completing my first marathon, an effort that was itself a capstone to an amazing year of running after 17 years of inactivity and poor eating habits. You see, for a year – and particularly for the few months leading up to the marathon – I somehow got up the gumption to change my life, to commit to running, and to run a race I never thought I would be able to run. But I did it. And I felt great. 

And then I stopped. Goal achieved. Box checked. Motivation, it seems, left somewhere out on 26.2 miles of asphalt in the District of Columbia.

My experience with running is not unlike many people's experience with church.

I've seen people get really involved in church for a while, as if to complete a project – a very tangible "project" such as the Confirmation of their teenager, or a more "spiritual" project of healing following a personal trauma. But once the project is complete, they drift away, having "achieved" what they first came to church seeking, but not having made the patterns of church or faith routine enough to be part of everyday life.

I can relate.

My project was to run a marathon. Since the physically and emotionally rewarding experience of running the marathon, however, my commitment to running has dropped off. Likewise, many people experience a period of intensive involvement in church, but then later drop off.

I don't begrudge folks who slip into the church for a time and then find themselves away, and not only because I can relate with this experience within the realm of running. Rather, part of what we're called to do in the church is to walk with people where they're at, and in that moment strive to be a welcoming community of Christ for them. Our doors are open.

Some come and sit for years on end. Others just wander through and take a look. Others hang out for a while but then move on. That's OK with me. Life-long membership is not the goal. Meeting people in their spiritual need and awakening them to the saving presence of the Triune God in their life – through shared practices of faith, including worship & praise, Bible study, prayer, service, fellowship, and giving – is what we're about, it seems to me.

In my own struggle to make running a daily and on-going routine rather than a time-limited project, perhaps I'm learning a little about those who come to church for a good, long stretch, and then who are absent for an even longer stretch.

As I try yet again to re-re-commit myself to running, I am grateful for friends who know the joy of running and who make running a part of their everyday life. They share their joy with me, and they encourage me despite my inconsistent commitment to running.

May I be as good a pastor, and our church as welcoming a community of faith, as these running friends are to this on-again, off-again, on-again wannabe runner.

this post is about running … and life

I ran a marathon back in March, and I felt pretty darn good about it. But since then the running has fallen off a cliff. In two months since the marathon I've run less than 100 miles … in the last month I've run less than 10 miles. Pathetic.

Just over a year ago I got back into running for the first time in 17 years. Getting back into running was a great experience, and signing up to run the Army Ten Miler, then the Richmond Half Marathon, and then the National Marathon was great motivation to keep training. By the end of it all, I went from "Couch to Marathon" in one year. It felt great. I felt great.

Yet in this whole process running never quite became an essential part of my life. Sure, it was something I did five days/week, and to an extent I became obsessed with running during this stretch. But once I achieved the goal of completing a marathon the motivation died down.

A lot.

The desire to wake up at 5am and run 14 miles diminished. Unlike other runners, my days didn't feel incomplete if I didn't go for a run. As much as I enjoyed the experience of a good run, I also enjoy many other things. Such as sleep. And time with my family. And a bedroom that didn't smell like a locker room.

But it wasn't just these various comforts that led me astray from the straight and narrow running path. Running – particularly marathon training – is an emotionally and physically draining experience. I learned in this process that I have room in my life for one additional, intense activity beyond my family and my work.

For a time that one intense activity was my marathon training. Since the marathon, however, my emotional energy has been focused on our family's move from Arlington, VA to St Paul, MN later this summer, and my transition from my current church to my new congregation. Though I am terribly excited about what lies ahead, I am also sad to say goodbye to many good people and places here in Arlington and on the East Coast. The transition is emotionally exhausting.

Nonetheless, I need to run. For my health (I've regained weight since my marathon), for my sanity (the time alone in my thoughts and non-thoughts is great therapy), for the challenge (I did enjoy watching my progress from week to week, race to race), running was and still can be such a powerful and meaningful part of my life … and an activity that keeps me grounded during a hectic time of transition (thanks, Christine, for helping me realize my need for some grounding). Perhaps not as intensely as I did in my marathon training, but I need to get back out there and make running an important part of my life again.

So the challenge for me is this: to turn running from an activity that is purely goal-oriented (run my first ever marathon) into a life-giving activity that becomes part of my day-to-day routine.

—–
More of my posts on running, including some that describe my "Couch to Marathon" journey, available here.

National Marathon Recap

I ran the National Marathon this weekend, my first ever marathon. It was a great experience, and I'm looking forward to running another, either this fall in the Twin Cities, or at some point next year. Next races on my calendar – a pair of ten milers in May and June.

I returned to running last April after 17 years of little to no physical activity. I was overweight and out of shape. I started running with the Couch to 5K training program, which helped me be able to run a 5K in May. Then I ran the Army Ten Miler in October, followed a few weeks later by the Richmond Half Marathon in November. And now the National Marathon. Couch to Marathon, in one year. I did it.

But this post isn't about the last 11 months. It's about Saturday. Continue reading if you want to see some runner-geek details about the race.

This was my first marathon, and though I had run several long training runs – up to 21 miles – I wasn't quite sure what to expect, especially at the end of the race. I had been consistently training in the range of an 8:40-9:00 pace, so I knew sub-4-hour marathon was possible. Still, what every experienced marathoner says to a first-timer is true: those last few miles are an absolute bear. If you look at my race log, you'll see that my pace slows around Mile 19, and I hit my first over-9:00 mile at Mile 24. Though miles 19-22 were tough, I didn't start to really hurt or question my sanity until Mile 23. For me, the last three miles were the worst.

Though overall I felt very good, I ran a far-from-perfect race. I went out a bit too fast – 13 miles @ 1:52 – and ran out of gas near the end. The energy of the crowd of runners, and the great spectators cheering us on, got the best of me. It was lots of fun, but I went out faster than I ought to have.

Another reason for my fade during the last three miles, I think, was that I was out of fuel. I ate an entire bag of Chomps – think high-energy gummy bears – from just prior to the gun to the Half mark, but then ate nothing on the second half. In retrospect, I wish I had eaten some more Chomps from Miles 13-18, as that might have helped me somewhat at the end of the race (during which I was suffering from some wooziness).

My time was also affected, even if only somewhat, by my wide swings on most of the turns during the first half of the race. I avoided the crush of runners trying to cut the corners as tight as possible and kept my stride open, but I also added .5 miles to my run by doing that.

I stopped to use the bathroom near Mile 6 – I was overly hydrated, perhaps? That stop cost me about 90 seconds. Rather than stand in the long lines at the nasty port-a-potties, I stopped at a Caribou Coffee. However, later in the race I learned that experienced marathoners of both genders know how to find discreet spots along the course, even in an urban marathon, to find relief.

In addition to drinking from my own hydration belt (large bottle of water, small 5oz bottle of Gatorade) I hit my first water station at about Mile 9, and then drank water and/or Powerade at nearly every station after the Half mark. I never got thirsty on the run.

When I began to hit a wall at Mile 23, I knew my time was good enough that I was going to get my goal of sub-4:00. So, despite the pain and mental anguish, some of the pressure was off. Sure, I would have preferred to run negative splits, but with only 3-4 miles to go, I knew that I was able to finish at a slower pace and still get my goal of a sub-4-hour marathon. I was glad to be in the position of being able to simply focus on finishing rather than trying to maintain or pick up my pace on the last few miles.

Finally, I wish I had known the approach to the finish line. As I was crossing the bridge toward RFK Stadium, I knew I was getting close, but I didn't know exactly where the finish line was (the finish was on an uphill along a curve, and there were no large signs or balloons or anything rising over the crowds and trees, so it was hard to see the finish line area from the course). I remember going up the road around the north side of the stadium, where spectators were starting to line up, and asking one of the spectators, "Where the heck is the finish line?" I wish I had known the last mile better. It wouldn't have changed my time significantly, of course, but it would have made the last mile mentally much easier.

Overall it was a great experience, and I'm looking forward to more road races this season, including another marathon in the fall, if everything works out.

I'll get into the more personal side of running – the journey over the past year, and its emotional and physical ups and downs – in a future post. But suffice it to say that is has been an amazing year, and I owe so much to my dear wife Jessicah – who ran a great half marathon on Saturday – for encouraging me and putting up with me over the past year. We did it babe! Thanks so much for your love and support!

Having Serious Doubts About 26.2

"Just go home," I told myself , about one mile into yesterday afternoon's sixteen mile run.  "Turn around.  You can get your long run in later in the week."  I was weary after a lock-in with nine youth from church on the night before, and a morning service project with those same youth pulling invasive English Ivy out from a hillside at a local nature center.

And so as I struggled up and down over the rolling hills of the first four miles of my workout yesterday I tried to talk myself out of the run, until finally my legs and breathing fell into a steady rhythm as the route plateued and then headed downhill toward the Potomac River, where a wonderfully flat three mile stretch of a canal tow-path awaited me.

In the final few miles my doubts returned.  "Stop here, call Jessicah, get a ride home," I told myself as I ran past a grocery store.  And again, at a split in the path where I could have made a quicker route home – but would have falled short of the sixteen mile goal – I once again tried to psych myself out.  "Go right, head home, be done."  My knee began to ache.  Finding the strength to stride over curbs and onto sidewalks became a serious challenge.

Nonetheless, I stuck to the plan and finished the run strong, despite the wicked hills that I faced after about mile ten.  In fact, this was my best long run to date – I hit every mile under 9:00, and my half marathon split was much faster than my time at the Richmond Half Marathon two months ago.

Yet when I got home I was worthless.  My body was extremely achey, and despite stretching, my muscles siezed up, making it very hard for me to move.  I couldn't eat much, I was thirsty for hours, and I was exhausted.  I fell asleep about 90 minutes after my run, woke up a few hours later, and then went to sleep for the evening.

Ever since running the Richmond Half Marathon in November, I have been eager to run a marathon.  I chose the National Marathon on March 26, because it would give the motivation to train during the winter. Furthermore, I loved the idea that I could go Couch-to-26.2 in one year.

(I began running last April, after 17 years of inactivity.  At the start, I couldn't run for two minutes without getting winded, but thanks to the Couch-to-5K program I got to the point where I could run a full 3 miles.  I wrote about my return to running in a blogpost last June, Getting Reacquainted with Running).

But I'll admit that I'm having doubts.  I got my butt kicked on – and especially after – yesterday's run, even as I put in one of my best workouts to date.  About 20 hours after my run, I still feel like garbage.  Do I really want to keep doing this to myself?  Perhaps I should dial it back and run the half marathon instead?  Or, should I be preparing for and recovering from my long runs differently, so that I'm not in such horrible shape a day later?

I'd greatly appreciate any advice that my running friends can share.  I'm not sure if I'm simply being plagued by fickle doubts – as I was on yesterday's run – or if I indeed need to dial it down and get more mileage and fitness before I try to conquer the 26.2. 

I know I can run a marathon, but simultaneously, I'm not sure if I can … right now, anyway.

Running on the Dreadmill

I have really enjoyed my return to running.  In the past two months I have run in the Army Ten Miler and in the Richmond Half Marathon.  I'm no speed demon, but I run and I finish, and with that I am quite pleased.  In my post-half-marathon runner's high, and as motivation to keep running during the cold, dark winter months, I signed up for the National Marathon on March 26.  Morning runs are now part of my routine several days per week, and I look forward to my runs as one of my favorite parts of the day.

However, here in Washington DC we are having an unusually cold start to the winter, and my willingness to run in the predawn darkness when the temperature hovers around 20° is being tested (my friends from colder climates are probably laughing at me right now!).  I have a flexible schedule and live next door to my office, so I've been known to adjust my work schedule so that I can run in the middle of the day, when the temperature soars to a balmy 35°.

Of course, the other option is to go to the nearby gym and use the dreadmill, ahem, the treadmill.  The treadmill is that dreadfull device that, though located in a climate controlled environment where the temperature is approximately 68°, provides you with a running experience like no other.  There is no wind on your face, and you don't actually go anywhere. There is no scenery passing by, no puddles to jump, no birds or squirrels crossing your path, no trail alongside a rushing creek.  The sounds you hear are of grunts dropping weights, friends chit-chatting, and the bad radio station the gym manager has decided to play that day.  As someone who enjoys the many facets of outdoor running, the treadmill is just dreadfull.

Screen shot 2010-12-08 at 7.00.48 AMAnd then there is the pace.  When we run outdoors, we run at a pace that is influenced my multiple factors, both physiological and environmental.  For amateurs like me – and perhaps for more elite runners, too? – pace is not perfectly consistent.  At right is a chart showing my pace over a recent 8 mile run.  While I ran a fairly consistent pace for the 8 miles – my splits ranged from 8:40 to 9:00 – as you can see, my pace within those miles varied to some degree.  What created those pace spikes and drops?  Street crossings, uphills and downhills, fiddling with my hat and gloves, playing with my stride, getting warmed up, accomodating that little kink in my ankle that pops up from time to time … any number of factors contribute to pace variations.

You don't get that kind of variation when running on a treadmill.  The pace is established by the machine, which runs a consistent pace without variation.  Surely you can program the treadmill to simulate a course or a workout, with various hill simulations or pace increases or decreases, but it doesn't allow your legs and body to run with the natural pace variation it might otherwise want or need to.  You either run the machine's pace, or you get flung off the machine.  Take your choice.

I know that I might succumb to the treadmill soon enough, especially if the unusually cold temperatures remain.  My gym is open 24-hours, and there is only so much schedule-juggling that I can do to accomodate my preference to run when the temperature peaks higher than 25°.  And I might yet learn to run in the predawn darkness with temps in the teens or single digits.   But I'm preparing for what might be the inevitable – and dreadful – decision to get on the treadmill and run.  Wish me luck.

UPDATE: A helpful article from Active.com, Treadmill Training for Winter Fitness.

Doctor’s Orders: No Running for Four Weeks

Earlier this spring I returned to running for the first time in 17 years (thanks to the wonderful Couch-to-5K running plan). I began losing weight and feeling better about myself, but most importantly I just really enjoyed running. After a little while my days felt incomplete without a run, and during the day my mind would often wander to thinking about my next run. I can't overstate what my return to running has meant to me. I even blogged about the joy of getting reacquainted with running. It's been an amazing, life-giving experience.

Thus I can't overstate how disappointed I am that, on doctor's orders, I've been shut down for four weeks.  No running, he said.  Get on your bike instead.

But I'm a runner. Not a biker.

You see, by early August I was getting comfortable running 7+ miles twice/week. My last long run was an 8-miler to the Washington Monument on August 9.  After a day of rest, I went for a short 4-miler on August 11, but didn't even last 2 miles.  I felt a shooting pain in my left shin, and a throbbing pain in my right. After feeling this horrible pain on another run following several days of rest, I went to the doctor, who told me to stop running for two weeks.  Two weeks came and went, and I went out for two short runs – 1.5 miles – on Monday and Tuesday of this week.  While I felt better, the sharp pain persisted in my left shin.  And so I called the doctor back, and that's when he gave me the four-week extension to my running moratorium.

I went to the running store last week, before the call to my doctor, and in hopeful anticipation of a cautious return to running this week. The guy at the store looked at my shoes – purchased in May at another running store – and said, "they're shot." "But they have less than 200 miles on them," I said. He then told me that they had a 180 lb limit (I weigh, ahem, a bit more than that), and that he himself had prematurely blown through a few pairs of this brand.  So while I don't want to blame my current predicament entirely on a poor choice of shoes, there's part of me that wants to find the guy who sold me those shoes and have a word or two with him.

Well, I bought new running shoes, the pair I wore on my two short runs earlier this week. They feel great, and hopefully I'll be running with them in a month or so.

So my hopes and plans to run the Army Ten Miler in October and the Richmond Half Marahon in November are shot.  For even if my shins feel great after four weeks, there is no way that I could get my body ready for the Ten Miler in less than a month, or for the Half Marathon in about five or six weeks.  These goals are now out of reach. For this year, anyway.

So today or tomorrow I'll take my bike to the shop, get it tuned up, and pretend to be the kind of person who likes bicycling. And tomorrow I'll go to the gym for a training session to learn how to use the machines properly, and pretend to be the kind of person who likes the gym. Let me be clear: I'm not the kind of guy who really likes cycling or the gym. Bikes and gyms don't come close to matching the simplicity and purity of running. Cycling is complicated – special shoes, helmet, gloves, and a bicycle with hundreds of parts, riding on busy roads or crowded paths where you've got to dodge pedestrians, runners, and cars, stop for cross traffic, and so forth. The gym is equally compliclated – what machines to use, how to use them, what is the proper weight? – not to mention the stale, sweaty air inside.  Running is so much more straight forward – strap on your shoes and run according to some plan. Running is the only kind of fitness I've ever really liked or enjoyed. Running is so meaningful for me (see that blogpost I referenced earlier). Shifting gears is going to be hard.

Well, this is the test, isn't it, to see if I'm so dedicated to this running thing (and to my general fitness) that I'll do anything – even ride a bike and do gym workouts – to get my body ready for an eventual return to running? I hope and pray that I can do this. I may even come to like it. But like it or not, it's my only option.

The Kingdom of God is Like a 10K Race

The following is a parable that was revealed to me while watching runners – including my dear wife, Jessicah – finish a 10K race on Saturday.  I'm pretty sure it was one of those parables that either got lost in translation or didn't make the final cut for the synoptic gospels, perhaps due to its high hokeyness quotient  😉

Then he said to his disciples, "The Kingdom of God is like a 10 kilometer race. Not one of those big charity races with thousands of runners in a big town or city, but a grassroots run in a county park with only a few hundred racers.  It's a race with many participants but few spectators, and when the fastest runners finish, there is nobody to cheer them on.  But when the slowest among them cross the finish line, there are scores cheering them on, for the faster runners had already finished, and were standing nearby the finish line, welcoming their fellow runners home."

Then the disciples asked him, "What does this mean?"  And he answered them, "Do you not yet understand? In a race the first receive the least amount of praise, since nobody but the race staff are there to cheer him on.  And what joy is there when a 21 year-old stud cruises to a first place finish in a community run?  We all expect young studs to win the race!

"But the last runner receives the greatest praise.  For when an overweight 54 year-old with achy joints sweats through the race, crossing the finish line in last place after running 6.2 miles without stopping to walk even once, the whole gathered crowd of racers who had already finished the race, cooled down, stretched, and begun replenishing their system with sponsor-provided food and drink, will put down their Gatorades and bananas to cheer on this last place finisher.  The cheers will be much louder, and words of encouragement much more plentiful, and admiration much greater for this last runner than they were for the first.  For they all know that the last place runner spent more time suffering on the course, and overcame more challenges, than any other runner in the race.

"And so it is in the Kingdom of God.  The angels and heavenly hosts will hoot and holler more loudly for those who stumble and straggle into the Kingdom than for those who sprint in hardly breaking a sweat.  For this world honors with heaps of praise the best and fastest among you; yet in the Kingdom of God, it is the least among you who are celebrated the most."