Well, the major media are all over this one already.
Researchers at the Salk Institute for Biological Studies in California have developed two drugs -- easily taken in pill form -- that produce many of the beneficial effects of exercise, at least in mice.
Exercise in a Pill?
Pretty much every newspaper, television station, online news service, etc. has a blurb on this story. You can understand why. Lots of people exercise, and lots of people wish it wasn't necessary.
The Boston Globe describes the drug's potential as "a couch potato's fantasy"...
Drugs Mimic Exercise Benefits in Mice
I don't want to minimize the implications of this serious research, but I also don't want to be caught in the media overkill on this story.
First of all, drugs that have this affect in mice are one thing: drugs that do the same thing safely in people are another.
Second, I *like* to exercise, so why should I get worked up over stories about a drug that helped me do less of the thing I like? It's like hearing about a pill that takes the place of eating. OK, but I like to eat.
But science marches on, and I'm sure this research will ultimately have benefits for treating some conditions. Perhaps ten years from now, these drugs will be used to improve the quality of life for some segment of the population.
But for now, I'll just continue to deal with my "condition" using the same old-fashioned treatment: daily doses of vitamin M.
July 31, 2008
July 30, 2008
Olympic Mascots, and Web Censorship in Beijing
There's a funny article in Slate Magazine on the Fuwa, or Beijing 2008 Olympic mascots. (Swifter, Higher, Cuddlier).
It turns out that everyone hates them. The article says that the mascots are considered a curse, and are being blamed for everything from the Olympic torch protests to the Sichuan earquake. Wikipedia reports that some Chinese have taken to calling the characters "Wuwa" (witch dolls).
But this should come as no surprise. Everyone hates Olympic mascots. The author defends the Fuwa, in part by comparing them to even lamer mascots from Olympics past:
"Have we forgotten how lame most Olympic mascots are? The 1980 Lake Placid mascot was a live raccoon (which tragically died before the games even started). The 2006 Turin mascot was an ambulatory ice cube. The 1992 Barcelona mascot was an indifferently sketched dog, which the artist claimed he'd drawn while stoned.
Let's not forget the 1996 Atlanta mascot, known variously as "Whatzit," "Whatizhee," or the shortened "Izzy." To this day, I remain unsure what exactly Izzy was meant to embody. The Journal recalls that he was "derided as everything from a 'blue slug' to a 'sperm in sneakers.'"
Press Censorship in Beijing
On a less funny -- even ominous -- note, Chinese officials are restricting access to a host of Web sites at the Olympic center for foreign press. The NY Times reports (via the Associated Press) that the Chinese are filtering out Amnesty International's site, and any site that mentions Tibet in the URL.
According to the Times,
"Kevan Gosper, an I.O.C. official, had said the international organization had received assurances from Chinese officials that Internet censorship would be lifted for journalists during the Games. But on Tuesday, Gosper issued a clarification, the AP reported. He said the open Internet extended only to sites that related to Olympic competitions."
There have also been reports that the Chinese have censored web sites that criticize the Fuwa, meaning that this blog, if noticed, would also be censored.
Think about it.
July 29, 2008
Air Pollution in Beijing
I was talking with a friend, a non-runner, and he said "I pity anyone running the marathon in Beijing."
I hadn't thought about this for a while, but the issue of air pollution at the Olympics might turn out to be a major story at the games, especially if the women's marathon (one of the first athletics events to be contested) is obviously affected by the pollution in the city.
The NY Times takes stock of Beijing's attempts to curtail pollution for the Olympics by reducing driving and shutting down factories, efforts that haven't been completely successful yet...
In Beijing, Blue Skies prove Hard to Achieve
The article also gives an insight into how Chinese officials will handle the problem -- by refusing to admit that it exists. At a news conference last Sunday, Du Shaozhong, a deputy director of Beijing’s environmental bureau, touted the effectiveness of measures to improve air quality. However, the Times goes on to say...
"A system of monitoring stations calculates a daily air quality rating on a scale of 1 to 500, with 500 being the worst. The accuracy of the system has been questioned, but Beijing officials have steadfastly defended it. Under the system, any rating under 101 is considered acceptable. The recent run of bad days began last Thursday with a rating of 113. Friday brought a 109; Saturday a 118; and Sunday a 113. Monday’s rating has not yet been announced."
I hadn't thought about this for a while, but the issue of air pollution at the Olympics might turn out to be a major story at the games, especially if the women's marathon (one of the first athletics events to be contested) is obviously affected by the pollution in the city.
The NY Times takes stock of Beijing's attempts to curtail pollution for the Olympics by reducing driving and shutting down factories, efforts that haven't been completely successful yet...
In Beijing, Blue Skies prove Hard to Achieve
The article also gives an insight into how Chinese officials will handle the problem -- by refusing to admit that it exists. At a news conference last Sunday, Du Shaozhong, a deputy director of Beijing’s environmental bureau, touted the effectiveness of measures to improve air quality. However, the Times goes on to say...
"A system of monitoring stations calculates a daily air quality rating on a scale of 1 to 500, with 500 being the worst. The accuracy of the system has been questioned, but Beijing officials have steadfastly defended it. Under the system, any rating under 101 is considered acceptable. The recent run of bad days began last Thursday with a rating of 113. Friday brought a 109; Saturday a 118; and Sunday a 113. Monday’s rating has not yet been announced."
July 27, 2008
Runner's Smoothie Recipe
So your summer training is going well, and you're logging northwards of 60 miles a week, often in the heat of the day, and when you finish a run the last thing you are thinking about is having a big meal. So you drink several glasses of ice water, or maybe Gatorade, and that's all well and good. However, you need more than sugar to replenish what you've lost. When do you get it? At your next big meal?
And you said you're a vegetarian? Well, so am I! And I know that it takes a good bit of planning to get the necessary protein and iron into your diet.
But... for an endurance athlete, replacing what you've lost and getting what you need is essential to actually benefiting from all that training. If you don't have the right stuff in your diet -- and again, for vegetarians this is especially true -- you are on a path to long-term depletion. The worst thing is, the depletion (of iron stores, for example) happens so gradually that you won't even notice it. It might not be for several months, and even then you might only notice that you've had a few bad races, and you don't feel much energy, and training seems harder, and the results that you've hoped for and deserve aren't there.
I hope this doesn't happen to you, but unfortunately, it did happen to me my senior year of cross-country. By then I had been a vegetarian for over two years, had donated blood, and done a lot of running over the summer. But I wasn't better than the year before, I was slower and less competitive. I won't go through the whole story -- maybe another time, but it took me a long time to get right again, a long time of taking iron supplements, eating more iron-rich food, and recovering.
Trust me, it's far better not to be depleted in the first place! So, as a public service and by popular demand, I'll share my anti-depletion, vegetarian-approved smoothie recipe. When I'm running a lot, I try to have these after long runs or very hard efforts, and at least three times a week no matter what.
Here it is:
1 cup plain low-fat yogurt
1/2 cup peach juice
1/2 cup orange juice
1 medium banana
4 oz. frozen strawberries
1 oz frozen blueberries
24g protein powder*
I usually add all of above ingredients except the protein powder and blend it for several seconds, then add the protein powder last and blend some more. With some powders it seems to dissolve better this way.
* There are several good vegetarian protein powders available at Shaw's, Whole Foods, etc. You might need to ask someone where to find them, though.
If you make the above recipe using the Wild Harvest brand of vegetarian protein powder, you'll have about 24 oz. of liquid, containing the following:
33g protein (50% RDA)
7.3mg iron (40% RDA)
4.4g potassium (120% RDA)
500 calories
If drinking 24 oz of the stuff is too much, share it with your family. It's good-enough tasting that you should have no trouble getting others interested. Either way, this is a great start to getting the nutrients that you need to recover from your long or hard run. You still need to eat well the rest of the day, but you are far more likely to get enough protein and iron with this as a start.
And you said you're a vegetarian? Well, so am I! And I know that it takes a good bit of planning to get the necessary protein and iron into your diet.
But... for an endurance athlete, replacing what you've lost and getting what you need is essential to actually benefiting from all that training. If you don't have the right stuff in your diet -- and again, for vegetarians this is especially true -- you are on a path to long-term depletion. The worst thing is, the depletion (of iron stores, for example) happens so gradually that you won't even notice it. It might not be for several months, and even then you might only notice that you've had a few bad races, and you don't feel much energy, and training seems harder, and the results that you've hoped for and deserve aren't there.
I hope this doesn't happen to you, but unfortunately, it did happen to me my senior year of cross-country. By then I had been a vegetarian for over two years, had donated blood, and done a lot of running over the summer. But I wasn't better than the year before, I was slower and less competitive. I won't go through the whole story -- maybe another time, but it took me a long time to get right again, a long time of taking iron supplements, eating more iron-rich food, and recovering.
Trust me, it's far better not to be depleted in the first place! So, as a public service and by popular demand, I'll share my anti-depletion, vegetarian-approved smoothie recipe. When I'm running a lot, I try to have these after long runs or very hard efforts, and at least three times a week no matter what.
Here it is:
1 cup plain low-fat yogurt
1/2 cup peach juice
1/2 cup orange juice
1 medium banana
4 oz. frozen strawberries
1 oz frozen blueberries
24g protein powder*
I usually add all of above ingredients except the protein powder and blend it for several seconds, then add the protein powder last and blend some more. With some powders it seems to dissolve better this way.
* There are several good vegetarian protein powders available at Shaw's, Whole Foods, etc. You might need to ask someone where to find them, though.
If you make the above recipe using the Wild Harvest brand of vegetarian protein powder, you'll have about 24 oz. of liquid, containing the following:
33g protein (50% RDA)
7.3mg iron (40% RDA)
4.4g potassium (120% RDA)
500 calories
If drinking 24 oz of the stuff is too much, share it with your family. It's good-enough tasting that you should have no trouble getting others interested. Either way, this is a great start to getting the nutrients that you need to recover from your long or hard run. You still need to eat well the rest of the day, but you are far more likely to get enough protein and iron with this as a start.
July 25, 2008
How Breaux Greer Made the Olympic Team
Maybe it was because my brain was waterlogged from two very moist laps at Fresh Pond, but when Jonathan Wyner mentioned that he had been reading about American Javelin Record Holder Breaux Greer being named to the Olympic Team, well I didn't quite get it at first.
Breaux Greer? He's a very colorful guy, but... he didn't even make the finals of the Javelin competition at the Olympic Trials. How could he be on the Olympic team?
That sent me scurrying to the USATF web site to try to understand the Olympic Team selection process, and how it interacts with the IAAF rules.
Here is what I found out:
1. The IAAF and IOC establish qualifying standards for all Olympic Track and Field events: an "A" standard (better) and a "B" standard. The "A" and "B" standards are used to control the number of competitors a country can enter in a given event.
A country can enter up to three competitors in an event, providing all have met the "A" standard. However, a country can only enter ONE competitor if that competitor has not achieved the "A" standard.
To be considered for these standards, performances must be achieved in in competitions that adhere to the IAAF rules and fall within a specific time frame.
For the Javelin Throw, the "A" standard for the 2008 Olympics is 81.80m and the "B" standard is 77.80m.
2. The USOC establishes a selection process for the U.S. team. The goals of this process are to field the strongest team with the maximum number of athletes allows by IOC and IAAF rules. Note that ALL athletes nominated to the U.S. Olympic team must have met the Olympic "B" standard.
3. The USOC selection process for all individual events (excludes relays) also requires that athletes compete in their event at the U.S. Olympic Team Trials. In an ideal world, all the competitors in an event at the trials will have met the Olympic "A" standard. Then, selecting athletes for the Olympic team is easy: take the top three ranked competitors and you're done. However, if not all athletes in the finals have met the "A" standard, complications ensue.
4. If the top finisher at the trials has the "A" standard, then the top three finishers with the "A" standard are selected. For example, if the second- and fourth-place finishers have only the "B" standard, but the first, third, and fifth have the "A" standard, the first third and fifth finishers are selected.
5. If the top finisher at the trials has only the "B" standard, then the selection depends on how many other athletes in the competition have the "A" standard. If TWO OR MORE competitors have the "A" standard, then the top two (or three) competitors with the "A" standard are selected. For example, if the first place finisher has the "B" standard, but the next three have the "A" standard, guess who gets left out? The top finisher! If the top finisher has the "B" standard and NO competitor or only ONE competitor has the "A" standard, then ONLY the top finisher is selected.
Ok, so what happened in the Javelin in the 2008 Olympic Trials? Well Beaux Greer competed and finished 17th, so he met the participation criterion.
In the finals, the results were:
1 Bobby Smith 76.06m 249-06
2 Mike Hazle 75.76m 248-07
3 Brian Chaput 75.63m 248-01
However, among all the competitors, only Leigh Smith (not Bobby!), Hazle, and Greer had met the Olympic "A" standard. This meant that the first and third finishers, Bobby Smith and Brian Chaput, were left off the team, and Leigh Smith, Hazle, and Greer were selected.
So there you have it.
But even that convoluted selection process is simple compared to how the relay teams are chosen. don't even get me started on that one.
Breaux Greer? He's a very colorful guy, but... he didn't even make the finals of the Javelin competition at the Olympic Trials. How could he be on the Olympic team?
That sent me scurrying to the USATF web site to try to understand the Olympic Team selection process, and how it interacts with the IAAF rules.
Here is what I found out:
1. The IAAF and IOC establish qualifying standards for all Olympic Track and Field events: an "A" standard (better) and a "B" standard. The "A" and "B" standards are used to control the number of competitors a country can enter in a given event.
A country can enter up to three competitors in an event, providing all have met the "A" standard. However, a country can only enter ONE competitor if that competitor has not achieved the "A" standard.
To be considered for these standards, performances must be achieved in in competitions that adhere to the IAAF rules and fall within a specific time frame.
For the Javelin Throw, the "A" standard for the 2008 Olympics is 81.80m and the "B" standard is 77.80m.
2. The USOC establishes a selection process for the U.S. team. The goals of this process are to field the strongest team with the maximum number of athletes allows by IOC and IAAF rules. Note that ALL athletes nominated to the U.S. Olympic team must have met the Olympic "B" standard.
3. The USOC selection process for all individual events (excludes relays) also requires that athletes compete in their event at the U.S. Olympic Team Trials. In an ideal world, all the competitors in an event at the trials will have met the Olympic "A" standard. Then, selecting athletes for the Olympic team is easy: take the top three ranked competitors and you're done. However, if not all athletes in the finals have met the "A" standard, complications ensue.
4. If the top finisher at the trials has the "A" standard, then the top three finishers with the "A" standard are selected. For example, if the second- and fourth-place finishers have only the "B" standard, but the first, third, and fifth have the "A" standard, the first third and fifth finishers are selected.
5. If the top finisher at the trials has only the "B" standard, then the selection depends on how many other athletes in the competition have the "A" standard. If TWO OR MORE competitors have the "A" standard, then the top two (or three) competitors with the "A" standard are selected. For example, if the first place finisher has the "B" standard, but the next three have the "A" standard, guess who gets left out? The top finisher! If the top finisher has the "B" standard and NO competitor or only ONE competitor has the "A" standard, then ONLY the top finisher is selected.
Ok, so what happened in the Javelin in the 2008 Olympic Trials? Well Beaux Greer competed and finished 17th, so he met the participation criterion.
In the finals, the results were:
1 Bobby Smith 76.06m 249-06
2 Mike Hazle 75.76m 248-07
3 Brian Chaput 75.63m 248-01
However, among all the competitors, only Leigh Smith (not Bobby!), Hazle, and Greer had met the Olympic "A" standard. This meant that the first and third finishers, Bobby Smith and Brian Chaput, were left off the team, and Leigh Smith, Hazle, and Greer were selected.
So there you have it.
But even that convoluted selection process is simple compared to how the relay teams are chosen. don't even get me started on that one.
July 24, 2008
Kids: Keep Moving!
I almost missed this article, published a week ago Wednesday in the NY Times:
As Children Grow, Activity Quickly Slows
The article cites a study that suggests a dramatic decline in activity levels in children as they become teenagers. Using accelerometers to gather data on activity levels, researchers from the University of California, San Diego found that nine-year-olds spend on average about three hours a day in active physical pursuits. However, 15-year-olds are active only 49 minutes a day on weekdays and half an hour on weekends.
The NY Times states:
"The study did not measure reasons for the decline, but researchers noted that schools often curtail physical activity as children get older. Not only does recess stop, but many schools drop physical education as well. In addition, sports become more exclusive as children grow, allowing only the best athletes to compete."
This strikes me as extremely sad and harmful.
Speaking for myself, if I hadn't had lots of physical activity in my teenage years I would have been in big trouble -- both academically and socially. Running vigorously during those years (and playing basketball and stickball, and walking to school) made an enormous difference in calming me down and helping me cope.
I'm sure not all 15-year-olds are as restless as I was, but many of them are, and the lack of opportunity to move seems hurtful and counter-productive.
As Children Grow, Activity Quickly Slows
The article cites a study that suggests a dramatic decline in activity levels in children as they become teenagers. Using accelerometers to gather data on activity levels, researchers from the University of California, San Diego found that nine-year-olds spend on average about three hours a day in active physical pursuits. However, 15-year-olds are active only 49 minutes a day on weekdays and half an hour on weekends.
The NY Times states:
"The study did not measure reasons for the decline, but researchers noted that schools often curtail physical activity as children get older. Not only does recess stop, but many schools drop physical education as well. In addition, sports become more exclusive as children grow, allowing only the best athletes to compete."
This strikes me as extremely sad and harmful.
Speaking for myself, if I hadn't had lots of physical activity in my teenage years I would have been in big trouble -- both academically and socially. Running vigorously during those years (and playing basketball and stickball, and walking to school) made an enormous difference in calming me down and helping me cope.
I'm sure not all 15-year-olds are as restless as I was, but many of them are, and the lack of opportunity to move seems hurtful and counter-productive.
July 19, 2008
New Age-Group (M45) Record for 1500m
Age-group records aren't generally big news, so it's perhaps understandable I missed this one. According to a report in Ken Stone's masters blog, 47-year-old (!!) Jesus Borrego of Spain set a new world record for the 1500 meters last Saturday, July 12.
47 years old, eh? Ok, go ahead and guess what time he ran.
Would it help if I mentioned that the listed WR for men 45-49 is John Hinton's 3:56.39? Or that the listed WR for the 1 Mile is Tony Young's 4:16.09 from earlier this year?
Ok, time's up. According to the Spanish blog Atletismo y algo más, Borrego ran 3:52.43, the equivalent of a 4:11 mile.
At 47.
Yikes.
47 years old, eh? Ok, go ahead and guess what time he ran.
Would it help if I mentioned that the listed WR for men 45-49 is John Hinton's 3:56.39? Or that the listed WR for the 1 Mile is Tony Young's 4:16.09 from earlier this year?
Ok, time's up. According to the Spanish blog Atletismo y algo más, Borrego ran 3:52.43, the equivalent of a 4:11 mile.
At 47.
Yikes.
July 18, 2008
Some BSC Athletes at Marathon Sports 5 Miler
The Marathon Sports 5-Mile Road Race, held last night, is a summer fixture and always attracts a good field (over 700 finishers this year). The race begins on a grass field at Weston High Schoool, heads out to the roads for 4 miles, features some cross-country terrain in the final mile, and then a track finish. Something for everyone!
Brookline rising senior David Wilson ran 25:24 to place third, win his age group by a minute and half (over Hopedale's Colin Oglivie) and serve notice that he will be touch to beat in the fall. David's dad James also ran, finishing 6th in his age group in 31:46.
Wellesley's Yuri Brown finished 14th overall in a fine time of 28:09. Not far behind was Needham's Kevin Potterton in 29:29.
Marathon Sports 5 Mile Road Race - Complete results
Brookline rising senior David Wilson ran 25:24 to place third, win his age group by a minute and half (over Hopedale's Colin Oglivie) and serve notice that he will be touch to beat in the fall. David's dad James also ran, finishing 6th in his age group in 31:46.
Wellesley's Yuri Brown finished 14th overall in a fine time of 28:09. Not far behind was Needham's Kevin Potterton in 29:29.
Marathon Sports 5 Mile Road Race - Complete results
July 17, 2008
"Welcome to Iten, Kenya"
Here is a nice little video that was selected as the winner in Flotrack's 08-08-08 Beijing Contest.
And the winner is... "Welcome To Iten, Kenya"
Much has been written about the success of runners from East African countries in distance events. Some of what has been written is hyperbole, but there's something very compelling about how running fits into this community.
I especially like the shot of cattle on the infield of the dirt track where the runners do their speed workouts.
And the winner is... "Welcome To Iten, Kenya"
Much has been written about the success of runners from East African countries in distance events. Some of what has been written is hyperbole, but there's something very compelling about how running fits into this community.
I especially like the shot of cattle on the infield of the dirt track where the runners do their speed workouts.
July 15, 2008
The Injury: Epilogue
At the end of a good mystery novel, it always seems like the brainy detective brings the main characters together to lead them step-by-step through the reasoning process that finally revealed the murderer and the motive. The clues are examined one by one. Some are dismissed as irrelevant, while others are shown to be be crucial. The denouement is always startling -- it was the DAUGHTER? the UNCLE? the KINDLY DOCTOR? The detective's intellectual vigor and insight uncover hitherto unsuspected relationships. The pieces of the puzzle come together with a satisfying finality.
While it has some of the elements of a detective story, this injury saga does not have a tidy ending. First of all, no brainy detective figures in this story, although I have at times wished for a sports medicine Sherlock Holmes to swoop in and dispel the doubts and fears. Second of all, the clues both false and true are still somewhat in dispute, and the conclusions are tentative.
However, there is this one similarity: injuries, like crimes, inspire narratives. A narrative is how we try to make sense of events and experiences that are troubling or problematic. I started telling myself this story way back in February, and, as you can probably guess, I've had to keep revising it as fresh evidence became available.
Basically, I had this need to try to make sense of something that wasn't such a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but was a little bit bigger (to me) than a pulled muscle. For me, training is all about learning, and it seemed that I had not grasped the proper lessons.
I had sustained an injury -- I now think that the "January injury" was a strain or tear of the gluteus medius muscle -- that was was probably the result of a lot of factors. These might have included what the ever-perceptive Dr. Chasen describes as SNDS (Stress, Nutrition, Depression, and Sleep). He wisely observes that this cocktail of risk factors doesn't cause injuries, but creates the conditions in which they become more likely. He might also have added that as one ages, it is increasingly untenable to ignore the need for increased recovery and a more systematic approach to maintaining overall health.
I also suspect that this injury came on top of some pre-existing problems, specifically weakness in the gluteal muscles, and chronic soreness, tightness, and scarring in the hamstrings themselves. Of course, I had been ignoring these problems for a long time (had gotten in the habit of doing the wrong thing).
In a rare moment of insight back in March, I remarked to someone that I had SRS -- Stubborn Runner Syndrome. I think that was probably the best self-diagnosis I made in the last 12 months. But identifying the problem and licking the problem are two different things.
Injuries inspire narratives. In narratives we try to tease out the lessons learned, and we try to use the past to be better in the future. I know that this narrative is not over, and that I am still at risk for a flare-up of the problems that have been present all spring. I also know that for now, my focus has to be on overall health rather than specific training goals.
What else did I learn?
I certainly have a new-found appreciation for the intricate sequence of biomechanical events that comprise the running stride. It doesn't take much, really, to interrupt that sequence and cause the finely tuned machine to break down. I also appreciate the big role of small muscles. Suddenly, all the emphasis on core strength and stability makes a lot more sense to me.
But more important, I think, I was reminded that running doesn't exist in a vacuum -- it is an activity that we undertake in a social and personal context, and reflects many actions and conditions of the life we are living around that hour or two a day in which we don nylon shorts and old race t-shirts and head out for another few miles. For me, it mattered a lot that people cared how I was doing. It mattered a lot that even my worst day of running was a way of connecting with a world that I loved.
In some ways, serious injuries never go away. Some injuries create permanent mechanical weakness in the body. Others leave permanent impressions on the mind and psyche. I still warm up the way I do because of a calf injury I suffered almost 25 years ago. I'm sure that I'll forever do these new stretches that I've learned as a result of becoming more intimately acquainted with my lesser glutes.
And that's ok with me. After many months of having my injury knocking at my door and me ignoring the persistent rapping, I finally let it in and we had good long talk. And if it stays in touch, well at least it has been an interesting companion.
While it has some of the elements of a detective story, this injury saga does not have a tidy ending. First of all, no brainy detective figures in this story, although I have at times wished for a sports medicine Sherlock Holmes to swoop in and dispel the doubts and fears. Second of all, the clues both false and true are still somewhat in dispute, and the conclusions are tentative.
However, there is this one similarity: injuries, like crimes, inspire narratives. A narrative is how we try to make sense of events and experiences that are troubling or problematic. I started telling myself this story way back in February, and, as you can probably guess, I've had to keep revising it as fresh evidence became available.
Basically, I had this need to try to make sense of something that wasn't such a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but was a little bit bigger (to me) than a pulled muscle. For me, training is all about learning, and it seemed that I had not grasped the proper lessons.
I had sustained an injury -- I now think that the "January injury" was a strain or tear of the gluteus medius muscle -- that was was probably the result of a lot of factors. These might have included what the ever-perceptive Dr. Chasen describes as SNDS (Stress, Nutrition, Depression, and Sleep). He wisely observes that this cocktail of risk factors doesn't cause injuries, but creates the conditions in which they become more likely. He might also have added that as one ages, it is increasingly untenable to ignore the need for increased recovery and a more systematic approach to maintaining overall health.
I also suspect that this injury came on top of some pre-existing problems, specifically weakness in the gluteal muscles, and chronic soreness, tightness, and scarring in the hamstrings themselves. Of course, I had been ignoring these problems for a long time (had gotten in the habit of doing the wrong thing).
In a rare moment of insight back in March, I remarked to someone that I had SRS -- Stubborn Runner Syndrome. I think that was probably the best self-diagnosis I made in the last 12 months. But identifying the problem and licking the problem are two different things.
Injuries inspire narratives. In narratives we try to tease out the lessons learned, and we try to use the past to be better in the future. I know that this narrative is not over, and that I am still at risk for a flare-up of the problems that have been present all spring. I also know that for now, my focus has to be on overall health rather than specific training goals.
What else did I learn?
I certainly have a new-found appreciation for the intricate sequence of biomechanical events that comprise the running stride. It doesn't take much, really, to interrupt that sequence and cause the finely tuned machine to break down. I also appreciate the big role of small muscles. Suddenly, all the emphasis on core strength and stability makes a lot more sense to me.
But more important, I think, I was reminded that running doesn't exist in a vacuum -- it is an activity that we undertake in a social and personal context, and reflects many actions and conditions of the life we are living around that hour or two a day in which we don nylon shorts and old race t-shirts and head out for another few miles. For me, it mattered a lot that people cared how I was doing. It mattered a lot that even my worst day of running was a way of connecting with a world that I loved.
In some ways, serious injuries never go away. Some injuries create permanent mechanical weakness in the body. Others leave permanent impressions on the mind and psyche. I still warm up the way I do because of a calf injury I suffered almost 25 years ago. I'm sure that I'll forever do these new stretches that I've learned as a result of becoming more intimately acquainted with my lesser glutes.
And that's ok with me. After many months of having my injury knocking at my door and me ignoring the persistent rapping, I finally let it in and we had good long talk. And if it stays in touch, well at least it has been an interesting companion.
July 13, 2008
The Injury: Part 5
You Are Not In This Alone
In the first week of June I skipped a club championship race (only a 5K!) for the first time in 18 months. The next day, I got mail from Terry, my training partner of almost 20 years. More than anyone else, Terry had been witness to all my gains and setbacks over many months. He wrote about finding the "healing plateau" -- the level of activity (or the lack of it) that would truly represent a firm foundation on which to build up to healthy running again.
It was a strange period, with the Mass. State Championships representing the competitive peak of the spring for many athletes I knew, with the return of collegiate runners to Newton, and with the open calendar full of opportunities to run on the track and on the road. Also at that time, people were asking me when the Cold Springs runs would begin.
It was hard to imagine running with collegians who had been tearing up the track in the spring, and me a broken down senior citizen barely able to manage seven-minute pace four times a week. And yet, a funny thing happened. All these runners, without exception, were gracious and accommodating to my slower pace. Noah would agreeably run at whatever pace I needed; Dave would keep me entertained with his non-stop (and non-sequitur) conversation as I panted through our runs together. Sam accompanied me on gentle runs of 4-5 miles, when he could have been running twice as far and much faster. In spite of my reservations, the Newton Summer Running Project was revived, and I began looking forward to Monday and Wednesday runs again.
I think there are few good runners who aren't comfortable training alone; but I also think that no one stays long in the sport without the help and support of a group of friends who can share the effort, and help with the rough patches.
A Summer Running Project
As far as high school goes, I've always considered the second week of June to be the first week of summer. Unless a runner is good enough to run at Nationals, this usually either the first week of rest (after States) or the first week of summer (after a week or two off).
For lots of reasons, I think summer is the only time that it makes sense for HS athletes to have a specific mileage target. That's why I've liked the idea of mileage goals for the twelve weeks of summer beginning the second week of June.
This year I made up training logs for Concord Academy runners, and the first day of their summer running project was June 8. That turned out to be the first day of the Cold Springs Runs. And it also was the first day that I started writing down my runs again after several months of being too discouraged to do so.
But a strange thing happened: at the same time I started writing down my runs, I started noticing the discomfort in my right leg decreasing. I don't think it was training log, but it was strange all the same. What was REALLY going on, I think, is that after several weeks of my "no-fast-running" plan, the pain-tightness-soreness in my hamstring-hip-gluteus had quieted down to the point that I could actually identify at least one area that was causing the problem, and I could attack it. And, just as importantly, I was now following better habits (e.g., sleeping better) that gave mne a better chance of repairing the damage that I had done.
I found a combination of stretches and tennis ball massages that seemed to reveal and relieve a particularly small and subtle area that seemed unusually tender. Every day I worked on it, it seemed to get a little bit better. And unlike before when there were multiple "hot spots" in my upper leg, working on this tender spot didn't simply reveal other problems.
By the weekend of June 21, I was definitely getting better. Actually, I was literally feeling more and more mechanically sound each day. And I was enjoying my runs again, which was like having water in the desert for someone who had been struggling with the basics for many months.
But still no speed. Now I was just running every day -- various distances, various paces, but just plain running, followed by an hour of stretching, massaging, icing (sometimes).
Independence Day
I broke my "race" fast on July 4th, running a 5-mile race in Concord. It was a low-key race, and I wasn't expecting to run hard. I just thought it was time to run a little faster, and I had been feeling pain-free after runs for almost two weeks. I went out easy, way behind the high school kids with their cut-off shorts and the guys with the American flags painted on their chests. It was a cool, wet day, and I ran steadily without urgency or ambition. I finished in 29:56 -- about six-minute pace (although Jonathan Wyner tells me the course was 20s short). I felt strong throughout the race, with no late-race disintegration.
Most encouraging, I felt no ill effects from this run. No waking up the next morning to fund myself unable to run 8:00 pace; no complex with a mysterious source. I felt... normally tired, and normal had never felt so good.
In the first week of June I skipped a club championship race (only a 5K!) for the first time in 18 months. The next day, I got mail from Terry, my training partner of almost 20 years. More than anyone else, Terry had been witness to all my gains and setbacks over many months. He wrote about finding the "healing plateau" -- the level of activity (or the lack of it) that would truly represent a firm foundation on which to build up to healthy running again.
It was a strange period, with the Mass. State Championships representing the competitive peak of the spring for many athletes I knew, with the return of collegiate runners to Newton, and with the open calendar full of opportunities to run on the track and on the road. Also at that time, people were asking me when the Cold Springs runs would begin.
It was hard to imagine running with collegians who had been tearing up the track in the spring, and me a broken down senior citizen barely able to manage seven-minute pace four times a week. And yet, a funny thing happened. All these runners, without exception, were gracious and accommodating to my slower pace. Noah would agreeably run at whatever pace I needed; Dave would keep me entertained with his non-stop (and non-sequitur) conversation as I panted through our runs together. Sam accompanied me on gentle runs of 4-5 miles, when he could have been running twice as far and much faster. In spite of my reservations, the Newton Summer Running Project was revived, and I began looking forward to Monday and Wednesday runs again.
I think there are few good runners who aren't comfortable training alone; but I also think that no one stays long in the sport without the help and support of a group of friends who can share the effort, and help with the rough patches.
A Summer Running Project
As far as high school goes, I've always considered the second week of June to be the first week of summer. Unless a runner is good enough to run at Nationals, this usually either the first week of rest (after States) or the first week of summer (after a week or two off).
For lots of reasons, I think summer is the only time that it makes sense for HS athletes to have a specific mileage target. That's why I've liked the idea of mileage goals for the twelve weeks of summer beginning the second week of June.
This year I made up training logs for Concord Academy runners, and the first day of their summer running project was June 8. That turned out to be the first day of the Cold Springs Runs. And it also was the first day that I started writing down my runs again after several months of being too discouraged to do so.
But a strange thing happened: at the same time I started writing down my runs, I started noticing the discomfort in my right leg decreasing. I don't think it was training log, but it was strange all the same. What was REALLY going on, I think, is that after several weeks of my "no-fast-running" plan, the pain-tightness-soreness in my hamstring-hip-gluteus had quieted down to the point that I could actually identify at least one area that was causing the problem, and I could attack it. And, just as importantly, I was now following better habits (e.g., sleeping better) that gave mne a better chance of repairing the damage that I had done.
I found a combination of stretches and tennis ball massages that seemed to reveal and relieve a particularly small and subtle area that seemed unusually tender. Every day I worked on it, it seemed to get a little bit better. And unlike before when there were multiple "hot spots" in my upper leg, working on this tender spot didn't simply reveal other problems.
By the weekend of June 21, I was definitely getting better. Actually, I was literally feeling more and more mechanically sound each day. And I was enjoying my runs again, which was like having water in the desert for someone who had been struggling with the basics for many months.
But still no speed. Now I was just running every day -- various distances, various paces, but just plain running, followed by an hour of stretching, massaging, icing (sometimes).
Independence Day
I broke my "race" fast on July 4th, running a 5-mile race in Concord. It was a low-key race, and I wasn't expecting to run hard. I just thought it was time to run a little faster, and I had been feeling pain-free after runs for almost two weeks. I went out easy, way behind the high school kids with their cut-off shorts and the guys with the American flags painted on their chests. It was a cool, wet day, and I ran steadily without urgency or ambition. I finished in 29:56 -- about six-minute pace (although Jonathan Wyner tells me the course was 20s short). I felt strong throughout the race, with no late-race disintegration.
Most encouraging, I felt no ill effects from this run. No waking up the next morning to fund myself unable to run 8:00 pace; no complex with a mysterious source. I felt... normally tired, and normal had never felt so good.
July 11, 2008
The Injury: Part 4
(How long will this series last? We're past the halfway point, readers.)
When the body is in proper working order -- when all the muscles, tendons, ligaments, bones, sheaths, fascia, and miscellaneous gristle are untroubled by tears, pulls, strains, inflammation, and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to; when all the nerves are firing harmoniously to maintain order and balance; when the heart is keeping time with measured beats, and the arteries are carrying gloriously oxygenated blood through miles and miles of well-maintained capillaries; and when the whole system is fed and happy and allowed to rest once in a while -- then running seems like the most natural and simple thing in the world. You just go out there and do it. When you get tired, you stop. When your muscles ache, you go easy for a few days. In short, running happens without much external effort or strife.
But let one thing go awry and there is kinesthetic hell to pay. Let one strand of tissue give out and tear, and that tear affects a muscle that you've never heard of, and that muscular discomfort causes a slight and almost unconscious compensation in an otherwise fluid stride, and that compensation leads to different patterns of stress and wear that bring secondary injuries. The fluid stride goes slightly out of tune, and the effort becomes too conscious of itself. The simple act of running becomes... puzzling.
At the beginning of April, I was frankly puzzled.
Was I injured or wasn't I? Was I sick or tired or what? Every day, I could imitate the running motion rather convincingly, and any outside observer would guess that I was just as happy (or just as unhappy) as all the other plodders clogging the streets and sidewalks of the metropolis. But every step Was uncomfortable, and the way I did it, it didn't feel like running. It felt like penance. But I wasn't sure exactly what I had done wrong, and when my debt would be paid.
In April, I turned a corner in my attitude from trying to continue to training to trying to broaden my perspective on this thing and figure out how to enjoy running again.
The first step, I knew, was to try to rid myself of all my expectations about what times I should be running and how it should feel. No, that's not quite right. I still clung to the idea that running should be pleasurable. In fact, I started consciously thinking about what made running enjoyable for me, and schemed how to make it so. So what made running fun? Well, I loved the camaraderie of running and valued my running friendships a great deal. On the other hand, I didn't feel capable of doing the same workouts I had been able to do before. So I started showing up to workouts with my own plan -- to run only half as far, or much slower. I couldn't have done this if my running buddies had not been 100% supportive and encouraging, and this meant a great deal to me. It's not always easy or pleasant to have a wounded runner jumping in and out of your interval workouts trying to figure out life. Terry and Jonathan and Tom never complained about this distraction.
Another thing that I had missed for several months was the experience of finishing any run strong. Too many of my runs and race recently had been ending poorly, my form in a shambles. I decided that even if I had to start slowly, at the back of the pack, I would finish strong. I ran one race in May in which I started out so slowly that I didn't pass our club's top 60-year-old woman until a half mile into the race. But I managed to finish strong!
I also made what seemed like a big decision to never run unless I felt like it. I took a lot of days off in April. Sometimes I got on my bike, but a lot of time, I didn't do anything at all. It was risky to flirt with the sedentary life, but after a couple of days of leisure, I always found my desire to run -- and my subsequent enjoyment -- much greater when I did get out there again. Of course, this meant that my weekly mileage shrunk into the teens.
And all the while, I kept trying to observe what worked and what didn't, what felt good and what felt injurious. I think I was still trying to pinpoint the single cause of all the trouble. Then, on a solitary run, I had a simple but compelling insight: there could be more than one problem. Looking for a single cause might not be the right strategy for getting healthy again. I started to see my injury as only one of a number of things that were out of kilter. The injury might have been a cause of my poor running, or it might have been the manifestation of other problems that had been developing for years. I started looking at my nutrition, my sleep patterns, how much time I allowed for warming up before and stretching after my runs. I started looking critically at what I was doing (or not doing) to maintain my core strength and flexibility. My life had been busy and stressful lately, but that was no excuse. If I couldn't follow good habits, then I had to stop running so much.
As for the injury itself, by the middle of May, I felt I had finally reached an important conclusion: I had to stop running in pain. if this seems obvious to my readers, then I only hope it will be just as obvious if they ever experience a similar injury. It took me months to get to this point, and it was a tough decision. But I had tried just about everything else, so in desperation I said good-bye to track workouts, tempo runs, races, strides, and anything else that had given me trouble over the past five months. Now, my only runs were at 7:00 pace or (usually) much slower.
Back to the drawing board.
(In Part 5, things finally start to turn around just in time for me to avoid losing all my readers.)
When the body is in proper working order -- when all the muscles, tendons, ligaments, bones, sheaths, fascia, and miscellaneous gristle are untroubled by tears, pulls, strains, inflammation, and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to; when all the nerves are firing harmoniously to maintain order and balance; when the heart is keeping time with measured beats, and the arteries are carrying gloriously oxygenated blood through miles and miles of well-maintained capillaries; and when the whole system is fed and happy and allowed to rest once in a while -- then running seems like the most natural and simple thing in the world. You just go out there and do it. When you get tired, you stop. When your muscles ache, you go easy for a few days. In short, running happens without much external effort or strife.
But let one thing go awry and there is kinesthetic hell to pay. Let one strand of tissue give out and tear, and that tear affects a muscle that you've never heard of, and that muscular discomfort causes a slight and almost unconscious compensation in an otherwise fluid stride, and that compensation leads to different patterns of stress and wear that bring secondary injuries. The fluid stride goes slightly out of tune, and the effort becomes too conscious of itself. The simple act of running becomes... puzzling.
At the beginning of April, I was frankly puzzled.
Was I injured or wasn't I? Was I sick or tired or what? Every day, I could imitate the running motion rather convincingly, and any outside observer would guess that I was just as happy (or just as unhappy) as all the other plodders clogging the streets and sidewalks of the metropolis. But every step Was uncomfortable, and the way I did it, it didn't feel like running. It felt like penance. But I wasn't sure exactly what I had done wrong, and when my debt would be paid.
In April, I turned a corner in my attitude from trying to continue to training to trying to broaden my perspective on this thing and figure out how to enjoy running again.
The first step, I knew, was to try to rid myself of all my expectations about what times I should be running and how it should feel. No, that's not quite right. I still clung to the idea that running should be pleasurable. In fact, I started consciously thinking about what made running enjoyable for me, and schemed how to make it so. So what made running fun? Well, I loved the camaraderie of running and valued my running friendships a great deal. On the other hand, I didn't feel capable of doing the same workouts I had been able to do before. So I started showing up to workouts with my own plan -- to run only half as far, or much slower. I couldn't have done this if my running buddies had not been 100% supportive and encouraging, and this meant a great deal to me. It's not always easy or pleasant to have a wounded runner jumping in and out of your interval workouts trying to figure out life. Terry and Jonathan and Tom never complained about this distraction.
Another thing that I had missed for several months was the experience of finishing any run strong. Too many of my runs and race recently had been ending poorly, my form in a shambles. I decided that even if I had to start slowly, at the back of the pack, I would finish strong. I ran one race in May in which I started out so slowly that I didn't pass our club's top 60-year-old woman until a half mile into the race. But I managed to finish strong!
I also made what seemed like a big decision to never run unless I felt like it. I took a lot of days off in April. Sometimes I got on my bike, but a lot of time, I didn't do anything at all. It was risky to flirt with the sedentary life, but after a couple of days of leisure, I always found my desire to run -- and my subsequent enjoyment -- much greater when I did get out there again. Of course, this meant that my weekly mileage shrunk into the teens.
And all the while, I kept trying to observe what worked and what didn't, what felt good and what felt injurious. I think I was still trying to pinpoint the single cause of all the trouble. Then, on a solitary run, I had a simple but compelling insight: there could be more than one problem. Looking for a single cause might not be the right strategy for getting healthy again. I started to see my injury as only one of a number of things that were out of kilter. The injury might have been a cause of my poor running, or it might have been the manifestation of other problems that had been developing for years. I started looking at my nutrition, my sleep patterns, how much time I allowed for warming up before and stretching after my runs. I started looking critically at what I was doing (or not doing) to maintain my core strength and flexibility. My life had been busy and stressful lately, but that was no excuse. If I couldn't follow good habits, then I had to stop running so much.
As for the injury itself, by the middle of May, I felt I had finally reached an important conclusion: I had to stop running in pain. if this seems obvious to my readers, then I only hope it will be just as obvious if they ever experience a similar injury. It took me months to get to this point, and it was a tough decision. But I had tried just about everything else, so in desperation I said good-bye to track workouts, tempo runs, races, strides, and anything else that had given me trouble over the past five months. Now, my only runs were at 7:00 pace or (usually) much slower.
Back to the drawing board.
(In Part 5, things finally start to turn around just in time for me to avoid losing all my readers.)
July 10, 2008
The Injury: Part 3
The Search for Remedies
Having an injury, especially a "minor" injury that mimics the normal aches and pains of training, is a little like being lost in the woods: you often feel absolutely sure you know where you are, but after an hour or so of puzzling effort, you realize you have no idea where you are going.
I really had no idea why running was suddenly so hard, and very little idea of what to do about it. I tried a lot of things: I tried taking days off. I tried cross-training. I tried stretching more, stretching less, stretching differently, not stretching, stretching in the middle of runs, stretching while watching TV... I tried doing all my runs slower, I tried focusing on different aspects of my stride to isolate what was going wrong. The net effect of all of this experimentation was about the same: I felt more or less ok when I didn't run, and then when I tried to run more than four miles or faster than 7:30 pace, I was right back to the same pattern of feeling really uncoordinated and fatigued.
I had made up my mind to get some good massage therapy, and that was the first thing that really made a difference. I went in complaining about my hamstrings, but I admitted I didn't really know what the problem was. During the first session, the muscular therapist didn't identify a single cause of all my misery (I was alittle disappointed), but with his competent digging into my tissues he did find a few "trigger points" in the hamstring muscles and worked on them. I went back a week later and he REALLY worked on them, bringing me to the point of tears several times.
The results were good: I was now able to run more or less normally for 5-6 miles and the tightness in my hamstrings seemed to be very much relieved. Plus the memory of the massage and where he had found problems helped guide my own stretching and "tennis-ball therapy." I was encouraged. I knew I had lost a lot of fitness, but I decided to run at the nationals anyway. I guess I was hoping that we had solved the problem and that I would be able to contend for a medal in my new age category (50-54).
I know how the stock market feels
Since it has been held in Boston, I have run the Indoor Nationals almost every year. Two years ago I doubled in the M45-49 3000 and 1M. Last year (my last in that age category) I ran the mile. This year was to be my debut in the M50-54 category, and I planned to run the 3000. I figured that I still had endurance, even if I had lost some of my speed.
In January (prior to the injury), I had run 9:33. If I could come anywhere close to that, I figured I would have a chance at a medal. I chose to view my 5:00 mile as an aberration and -- newly massaged -- I went into the meet with a good attitude and the intention of running well.
The race went out fast, but I stayed back a bit. I've always felt confident running from behind so this was no big deal. I passed 400m in 78, about 3s behind the lead pack. However, instead of feeling smooth and under control, I felt really tired, laboring already. I started running 40s laps, settling into 10th place where I posed no threat the leaders. I went through the mile in 5:18 and felt no energy at all. It really took all I had to keep grinding away, but I finally finished in just over 10 minutes. I had lost a half minute of fitness in two months, and gone run all-out to run a 3K that was slower than what I could run for 5K a year earlier.
I was pretty discouraged.
I had heard of runners who experienced precipitous declines, becoming slow seemingly overnight. It was maddening because I still did not have a clear idea of what was going on. In fact, my "decline" had begun long before my January injury. I had been running poorly for a long time. Let me qualify that: In March 2007 I ran a half marathon in 1:16:49 -- 5:56 pace. From that high-water mark, I had submitted the following performances:
10K in 35:50 / 5:47 pace (April 08)
10M in 61:00 / 6:06 pace (July 08)
5M in 32:30 / 6:30 pace (Sept 08) **
That 5M race was the worst race of my life. I never imagined a race could be so slow and so difficult at the same time. Yes, it was a hot day, but I had routinely done training runs at that pace. After two miles, I was struggling. After three miles, the world was a grim and forbidding place. At four miles, I had to stop and walk for about a minute. It was embarrassing, but my body just wasn't working right.
I didn't race much the rest of the fall, and when I did, I tried to have very low expectations. Indoor track was supposed to be my return to racing form, but there I was in March of this year, running dramatically slower times and still nursing my mysterious injury.
I felt it was time to take a fresh look at things.
Having an injury, especially a "minor" injury that mimics the normal aches and pains of training, is a little like being lost in the woods: you often feel absolutely sure you know where you are, but after an hour or so of puzzling effort, you realize you have no idea where you are going.
I really had no idea why running was suddenly so hard, and very little idea of what to do about it. I tried a lot of things: I tried taking days off. I tried cross-training. I tried stretching more, stretching less, stretching differently, not stretching, stretching in the middle of runs, stretching while watching TV... I tried doing all my runs slower, I tried focusing on different aspects of my stride to isolate what was going wrong. The net effect of all of this experimentation was about the same: I felt more or less ok when I didn't run, and then when I tried to run more than four miles or faster than 7:30 pace, I was right back to the same pattern of feeling really uncoordinated and fatigued.
I had made up my mind to get some good massage therapy, and that was the first thing that really made a difference. I went in complaining about my hamstrings, but I admitted I didn't really know what the problem was. During the first session, the muscular therapist didn't identify a single cause of all my misery (I was alittle disappointed), but with his competent digging into my tissues he did find a few "trigger points" in the hamstring muscles and worked on them. I went back a week later and he REALLY worked on them, bringing me to the point of tears several times.
The results were good: I was now able to run more or less normally for 5-6 miles and the tightness in my hamstrings seemed to be very much relieved. Plus the memory of the massage and where he had found problems helped guide my own stretching and "tennis-ball therapy." I was encouraged. I knew I had lost a lot of fitness, but I decided to run at the nationals anyway. I guess I was hoping that we had solved the problem and that I would be able to contend for a medal in my new age category (50-54).
I know how the stock market feels
Since it has been held in Boston, I have run the Indoor Nationals almost every year. Two years ago I doubled in the M45-49 3000 and 1M. Last year (my last in that age category) I ran the mile. This year was to be my debut in the M50-54 category, and I planned to run the 3000. I figured that I still had endurance, even if I had lost some of my speed.
In January (prior to the injury), I had run 9:33. If I could come anywhere close to that, I figured I would have a chance at a medal. I chose to view my 5:00 mile as an aberration and -- newly massaged -- I went into the meet with a good attitude and the intention of running well.
The race went out fast, but I stayed back a bit. I've always felt confident running from behind so this was no big deal. I passed 400m in 78, about 3s behind the lead pack. However, instead of feeling smooth and under control, I felt really tired, laboring already. I started running 40s laps, settling into 10th place where I posed no threat the leaders. I went through the mile in 5:18 and felt no energy at all. It really took all I had to keep grinding away, but I finally finished in just over 10 minutes. I had lost a half minute of fitness in two months, and gone run all-out to run a 3K that was slower than what I could run for 5K a year earlier.
I was pretty discouraged.
I had heard of runners who experienced precipitous declines, becoming slow seemingly overnight. It was maddening because I still did not have a clear idea of what was going on. In fact, my "decline" had begun long before my January injury. I had been running poorly for a long time. Let me qualify that: In March 2007 I ran a half marathon in 1:16:49 -- 5:56 pace. From that high-water mark, I had submitted the following performances:
10K in 35:50 / 5:47 pace (April 08)
10M in 61:00 / 6:06 pace (July 08)
5M in 32:30 / 6:30 pace (Sept 08) **
That 5M race was the worst race of my life. I never imagined a race could be so slow and so difficult at the same time. Yes, it was a hot day, but I had routinely done training runs at that pace. After two miles, I was struggling. After three miles, the world was a grim and forbidding place. At four miles, I had to stop and walk for about a minute. It was embarrassing, but my body just wasn't working right.
I didn't race much the rest of the fall, and when I did, I tried to have very low expectations. Indoor track was supposed to be my return to racing form, but there I was in March of this year, running dramatically slower times and still nursing my mysterious injury.
I felt it was time to take a fresh look at things.
July 09, 2008
NSRP Update - July 9
We've been having good crowds lately for the Newton Summer Running Project, so I thought I should give an update.
First of all, I won't be at Cold Springs Wednesday, July 9, since I'll be traveling. I don't think that's going to stop the group, though.
In our usual disorganized way, we seem to have settled into roughly three groups: the low-mileage group typically runs about 5-7 miles, depending on how everyone feels. The mid-mileage group is doing 8-9, and there is a high-mileage group doing 70 minutes or more.
Most runs have involved the aqueduct somehow, although on Monday we tried the crosstown trail in Wellesley for variety. We still haven't done a BC Reservoir loop, so maybe that's next.
Efforts to meet at a different venue have so far failed completely, although I haven't given up on the idea.
It has been good to see the Newton South guys out in force; they are going to be tough to beat in the Fall. It has also been good to have Noah, Dave, Mike, Mike, Dan, Jarad (once!), Seb, Jamie, and Josh representing current and past Newton teams. Mike, Jerzy, Matias, and Matt represent the Brookline alumni. Rex has joined us the last couple of weeks from Dedham (and Lowell) and brought Ruben last Wednesday. Paul (Amherst HS, Brandeis teammate of Sam D) has been a great Monday addition.
I continue to be impressed with this group, and my only regret is that I didn't think to bring popsicles on Monday.
First of all, I won't be at Cold Springs Wednesday, July 9, since I'll be traveling. I don't think that's going to stop the group, though.
In our usual disorganized way, we seem to have settled into roughly three groups: the low-mileage group typically runs about 5-7 miles, depending on how everyone feels. The mid-mileage group is doing 8-9, and there is a high-mileage group doing 70 minutes or more.
Most runs have involved the aqueduct somehow, although on Monday we tried the crosstown trail in Wellesley for variety. We still haven't done a BC Reservoir loop, so maybe that's next.
Efforts to meet at a different venue have so far failed completely, although I haven't given up on the idea.
It has been good to see the Newton South guys out in force; they are going to be tough to beat in the Fall. It has also been good to have Noah, Dave, Mike, Mike, Dan, Jarad (once!), Seb, Jamie, and Josh representing current and past Newton teams. Mike, Jerzy, Matias, and Matt represent the Brookline alumni. Rex has joined us the last couple of weeks from Dedham (and Lowell) and brought Ruben last Wednesday. Paul (Amherst HS, Brandeis teammate of Sam D) has been a great Monday addition.
I continue to be impressed with this group, and my only regret is that I didn't think to bring popsicles on Monday.
The Injury: Part 2
The Unraveling Begins
In February 2008, two weeks after I first "tweaked" my hamstring/hip/glute or whatever it was, I raced a mile at BU at the Valentine Invitational. I had hoped to run 4:45, but having cut back on my training and still feeling discomfort in my right leg, I revised my expectations downward. I went to the meet not knowing whether the injury would flare up in the race, and I remember telling Dan Chebot that I had a "hamstring injury" and wasn't expecting much.
The rest had done me some good, and I was able to warm up and do strides without anything more than a vague sense of discomfort in my right leg. I raced, and the race went pretty well. I started out in last, but ran extremely evenly to pass several people in my heat and finish in 4:50. After the race, my leg felt pretty much the same as it had before, so I figured I was well on the way to being healed. I had no doubt whatsoever that I would be running 6-8 seconds faster in a couple of months when the national masters championships rolled around.
The next day, a Sunday, I went out for what was supposed to be an easy recovery run and felt really uncomfortable. My right leg hurt with every stride. After a few miles, I felt surprisingly fatigued, much more so than the usual post-race dullness. The strangest thing was that I couldn't pinpoint the source of the trouble, I just felt as though my legs weren't working properly.
The third rule of injuries
The third rule of injuries is that after you do the wrong thing for a while, doing the wrong thing becomes a habit. In my case, after that mile race I settled into a routine of uncomfortable and shortened "maintenance" runs, interspersed with weekly attempts to make up for my drastically reduced training volume by doing speed workouts. This is how I rationalized my "training" behavior:
Although my legs felt bad when I started running, they didn't seem to feel much worse when I was running fast. Therefore, I figured, I should make the most of my limited running to get in some quality workouts. That way, I could preserve what fitness I had until I found the right stretch, or the right therapy, to take care of this still mysterious discomfort in my right leg. Maybe the track workouts would actually HELP by making me focus more on my form. I continued to go to the track about once a week, and I struggled through short workouts with a few fast intervals and increasing levels of general fatigue.
On weekends, I had some truly disastrous runs. I remember a long run with my buddies at what should have been a very gentle pace. After 40 minutes running maybe 7:30 miles, I felt like I was in the last stages of a particularly hard race. I was doing everything I could to keep up with my buddies, who were gabbing away with no strain whatsoever. I finally stopped at about 10 miles and walked. I was completely out of gas.
And still, I was unwilling to let go of the idea that I was still training, still trying to get ready for upcoming races.
At the end February, I ran another mile race at the New England Championships at Harvard. I ran 5:00, 10 second slower than my "off" race at BU. And it wasn't easy, either!
The worst thing was that I still didn't know what was going on, and I found it frustrating to try to explain to people I knew in the running world why I was suddenly running so slow. My close training friends knew that I wasn't right, but to more casual acquaintances I was just slow. It didn't help that my woes had begun at almost the same time I had turned 50 and I was starting to deal with the "well, you can't expect to keep racing and training at the same level you did when you were younger" advice.
But I certainly felt old, at least when I ran. I would run one day for four miles, come back feeing lousy and take the next day off. If I did manage to have a decent run, or a decent couple of days, the next time I tried to push the distance or the pace of my runs, I would be back where I started.
Towards the end of February, shortly after that 5:00 mile, I finally decided I needed some help, so I made an appointment with a muscular therapist for a series of massages that I hoped would loosen the hamstrings and make it possible to continue training and racing. I still had not given up on the masters indoor championships, and the spring racing season.
In February 2008, two weeks after I first "tweaked" my hamstring/hip/glute or whatever it was, I raced a mile at BU at the Valentine Invitational. I had hoped to run 4:45, but having cut back on my training and still feeling discomfort in my right leg, I revised my expectations downward. I went to the meet not knowing whether the injury would flare up in the race, and I remember telling Dan Chebot that I had a "hamstring injury" and wasn't expecting much.
The rest had done me some good, and I was able to warm up and do strides without anything more than a vague sense of discomfort in my right leg. I raced, and the race went pretty well. I started out in last, but ran extremely evenly to pass several people in my heat and finish in 4:50. After the race, my leg felt pretty much the same as it had before, so I figured I was well on the way to being healed. I had no doubt whatsoever that I would be running 6-8 seconds faster in a couple of months when the national masters championships rolled around.
The next day, a Sunday, I went out for what was supposed to be an easy recovery run and felt really uncomfortable. My right leg hurt with every stride. After a few miles, I felt surprisingly fatigued, much more so than the usual post-race dullness. The strangest thing was that I couldn't pinpoint the source of the trouble, I just felt as though my legs weren't working properly.
The third rule of injuries
The third rule of injuries is that after you do the wrong thing for a while, doing the wrong thing becomes a habit. In my case, after that mile race I settled into a routine of uncomfortable and shortened "maintenance" runs, interspersed with weekly attempts to make up for my drastically reduced training volume by doing speed workouts. This is how I rationalized my "training" behavior:
Although my legs felt bad when I started running, they didn't seem to feel much worse when I was running fast. Therefore, I figured, I should make the most of my limited running to get in some quality workouts. That way, I could preserve what fitness I had until I found the right stretch, or the right therapy, to take care of this still mysterious discomfort in my right leg. Maybe the track workouts would actually HELP by making me focus more on my form. I continued to go to the track about once a week, and I struggled through short workouts with a few fast intervals and increasing levels of general fatigue.
On weekends, I had some truly disastrous runs. I remember a long run with my buddies at what should have been a very gentle pace. After 40 minutes running maybe 7:30 miles, I felt like I was in the last stages of a particularly hard race. I was doing everything I could to keep up with my buddies, who were gabbing away with no strain whatsoever. I finally stopped at about 10 miles and walked. I was completely out of gas.
And still, I was unwilling to let go of the idea that I was still training, still trying to get ready for upcoming races.
At the end February, I ran another mile race at the New England Championships at Harvard. I ran 5:00, 10 second slower than my "off" race at BU. And it wasn't easy, either!
The worst thing was that I still didn't know what was going on, and I found it frustrating to try to explain to people I knew in the running world why I was suddenly running so slow. My close training friends knew that I wasn't right, but to more casual acquaintances I was just slow. It didn't help that my woes had begun at almost the same time I had turned 50 and I was starting to deal with the "well, you can't expect to keep racing and training at the same level you did when you were younger" advice.
But I certainly felt old, at least when I ran. I would run one day for four miles, come back feeing lousy and take the next day off. If I did manage to have a decent run, or a decent couple of days, the next time I tried to push the distance or the pace of my runs, I would be back where I started.
Towards the end of February, shortly after that 5:00 mile, I finally decided I needed some help, so I made an appointment with a muscular therapist for a series of massages that I hoped would loosen the hamstrings and make it possible to continue training and racing. I still had not given up on the masters indoor championships, and the spring racing season.
July 08, 2008
The Injury: Part 1
The beginning
Halfway through a dreary January with my house in the midst of a renovation, I finally started feeling as though my training was going well. After several weeks of harder, faster track workouts, I was gaining confidence in my ability to race again. The fall had not gone particularly well (as far as racing went) and I was looking forward to indoor track and being competitive again.
In addition to weekly intervals at Reggie, I had been running hills every week since the beginning of December. I had started with long slow hills, but after a few weeks had started running shorter, steeper hills. The previous Saturday I had done a particularly hard workout on Highland Street -- from the base of the hill at Lowell all the way to Forest Street. This was the kind of workout I knew I needed: mentally and physically challenging and oriented toward power.
The following Tuesday, I headed to the indoor track intending to do something short and fast -- a mix of 400s and 200s. I would be racing in a week and half, and wanted to run 1M race pace or better for a bit. I didn't want to trash my legs, but definitely wanted to see how they would feel with the quicker turnover.
While warming up with flexibility drills, I felt a tweak in my upper right leg, an indistinct discomfort somewhere in the hamstring/hip/glute area. I didn't worry about it until I started my strides. There was an unusual amount of tightness... or was it weakness... as I brought the foot down to contact the track. I got through my strides, and decided to run a 200 at 90% to test everything out. I was able to run it in about 34 seconds and while I was running the discomfort stayed exactly the same. After finishing, it was a different story, as the discomfort grew into a steady ache.
The first rule of injuries
The first rule of injuries is that they make you stupid. And in most cases, it isn't the initial injury that does you in, it's the stupidity of the actions you take afterwards.
In my case, I began to act stupidly almost immediately. There I was at the track all warmed up and ready for my workout, and I was feeling resentful that some minor tweak was going to deprive me of this one hour of the week that was truly mine. I decided that I would tough it out and try to get in my workout, despite the obvious pain that I still couldn't identify. I took some time to stretch my hamstrings (they were feeling tight and balky) and then got back on the track and continued running 200s.
Every interval followed the same pattern. Initial discomfort with the first few steps, then the discomfort would recede as I reached full stride. I would feel "ok" through the interval, although I felt as though my form was breaking down more than it should for so early in the workout, and then I would finish and the steady ache. I ran six 200s this way. On the last one, my form starting coming apart completely on the home stretch, and I finally got the message and stopped my workout.
The second rule of injuries
The second rule of injuries is that once you have admitted that you are injured, you almost always misidentify the injury itself, its cause, or both. You then proceed to try a random series of strategies to fix the problem, without fully understanding its underlying nature.
In my case, I assumed that I had strained my hamstring. It was a funny kind of strain, though, because I didn't feel ANYTHING when I wasn't running, but as soon as I started, I felt like I had never run before. I felt clumsy and awkward, like I was swinging my legs mechanically rather than loping smoothly. I had taken a couple of days off immediately following the ill-fated track workout, and then started running easily again, but those four mile runs were surprisingly hard. I would come back home and Ann would ask, "How was your run?" and I would answer that if running was always like this, well I wouldn't be a runner.
But my injury had made me stupid and stubborn. I had put in a lot of work to get in shape, and I wasn't going to let it all slip away. I started scheming how to "train through" my recovery. Surely with a little bit more stretching, longer warmups, and a break from the track, I was sure I would recover quickly. Well, and if not, I could always run through a little discomfort until it went away on its own.
Halfway through a dreary January with my house in the midst of a renovation, I finally started feeling as though my training was going well. After several weeks of harder, faster track workouts, I was gaining confidence in my ability to race again. The fall had not gone particularly well (as far as racing went) and I was looking forward to indoor track and being competitive again.
In addition to weekly intervals at Reggie, I had been running hills every week since the beginning of December. I had started with long slow hills, but after a few weeks had started running shorter, steeper hills. The previous Saturday I had done a particularly hard workout on Highland Street -- from the base of the hill at Lowell all the way to Forest Street. This was the kind of workout I knew I needed: mentally and physically challenging and oriented toward power.
The following Tuesday, I headed to the indoor track intending to do something short and fast -- a mix of 400s and 200s. I would be racing in a week and half, and wanted to run 1M race pace or better for a bit. I didn't want to trash my legs, but definitely wanted to see how they would feel with the quicker turnover.
While warming up with flexibility drills, I felt a tweak in my upper right leg, an indistinct discomfort somewhere in the hamstring/hip/glute area. I didn't worry about it until I started my strides. There was an unusual amount of tightness... or was it weakness... as I brought the foot down to contact the track. I got through my strides, and decided to run a 200 at 90% to test everything out. I was able to run it in about 34 seconds and while I was running the discomfort stayed exactly the same. After finishing, it was a different story, as the discomfort grew into a steady ache.
The first rule of injuries
The first rule of injuries is that they make you stupid. And in most cases, it isn't the initial injury that does you in, it's the stupidity of the actions you take afterwards.
In my case, I began to act stupidly almost immediately. There I was at the track all warmed up and ready for my workout, and I was feeling resentful that some minor tweak was going to deprive me of this one hour of the week that was truly mine. I decided that I would tough it out and try to get in my workout, despite the obvious pain that I still couldn't identify. I took some time to stretch my hamstrings (they were feeling tight and balky) and then got back on the track and continued running 200s.
Every interval followed the same pattern. Initial discomfort with the first few steps, then the discomfort would recede as I reached full stride. I would feel "ok" through the interval, although I felt as though my form was breaking down more than it should for so early in the workout, and then I would finish and the steady ache. I ran six 200s this way. On the last one, my form starting coming apart completely on the home stretch, and I finally got the message and stopped my workout.
The second rule of injuries
The second rule of injuries is that once you have admitted that you are injured, you almost always misidentify the injury itself, its cause, or both. You then proceed to try a random series of strategies to fix the problem, without fully understanding its underlying nature.
In my case, I assumed that I had strained my hamstring. It was a funny kind of strain, though, because I didn't feel ANYTHING when I wasn't running, but as soon as I started, I felt like I had never run before. I felt clumsy and awkward, like I was swinging my legs mechanically rather than loping smoothly. I had taken a couple of days off immediately following the ill-fated track workout, and then started running easily again, but those four mile runs were surprisingly hard. I would come back home and Ann would ask, "How was your run?" and I would answer that if running was always like this, well I wouldn't be a runner.
But my injury had made me stupid and stubborn. I had put in a lot of work to get in shape, and I wasn't going to let it all slip away. I started scheming how to "train through" my recovery. Surely with a little bit more stretching, longer warmups, and a break from the track, I was sure I would recover quickly. Well, and if not, I could always run through a little discomfort until it went away on its own.
July 07, 2008
Hamlet in the 1500
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Alan Webb finished fifth in the 1500m final at the U.S. trials last night, which means that the U.S. record holder in the mile and the owner of 2007's fastest 1500m time will not be representing his country in the Beijing Olympics. What happened?
Defending world champion Bernard Lagat won the race, running at or near the front for three and a half laps, and kicking it in for a time of 3:40.37. Lagat was followed across the line by Leonel Manzano and Lopez Lomong, two worthy competitors who both deserve to be on the team. Lomong, in particular, showed great fortitude in the race as he was bumped off-stride by Said Ahmed with a lap to go, and found himself in the third lane and in ninth place late in the race. he charged back into contention on the backstretch of the last lap, and held on for third. Manzano shadowed Lagat the entire race and was in perfect position to use his formidable kick with 200 to go.
Webb, on the other hand didn't seem to have a plan. At the gun, he half-sprinted the first 100m, ending up near the back of a thick clot of runners who were stumbling an pushing as the pace slowed to a crawl. Then, as Gabe Jennings took the lead and upped the tempo, Webb was caught in last place. With a little over two laps to go, Webb made a big move to improve his position from 12th to about 6th, but then held back again, unwilling to go to the front so early. And there he stayed, running almost the entire last 800m in the second lane.
With 300m to go, Webb still looked like he had a chance, poised in sixth as the kicking began in earnest. As Lomong threw caution to the winds and went into a full sprint at the top of the backstretch, Webb waited. As the pack entered the final turn, it was Lagat, Manzano, and Lomong. Webb's last 200 was fast, but not fast enough to overtake those three. The final indignity came when Webb was caught at the line by William Leer, meaning Webb isn't even an alternate for the team.
The mile (or 1500) seems unique among track events in requiring equal parts physical gifts, mental tenacity, and tactical savvy. Even great runners can be undone if they exercise poor judgment. Webb is a great runner, possessing rare physical gifts and a willingness to work very hard to hone them. But for whatever reason -- lack of confidence, uncertainty about his preparation, or simply poor tactics -- Webb let others dictate the race. I keep coming back to the idea that Webb was ahead of Lomong with 300 to go, in position to finish in the top three. But while Webb waited, Lomong went all-in, risking everything. He passed Webb and reached top speed by the end of the backstratch... and Webb never caught up.
Would a big move with 300 to go have worked for Webb? There's no guarantee. Maybe Webb was already cooked from his mid-race surge, or from a tough semi-final. Maybe he just didn't have the strength yesterday. There's no certainty here. But it does seem as though Webb is his own toughest competitor, as he continues to run championship races without a clear plan of what he needs to do to succeed.
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Alan Webb finished fifth in the 1500m final at the U.S. trials last night, which means that the U.S. record holder in the mile and the owner of 2007's fastest 1500m time will not be representing his country in the Beijing Olympics. What happened?
Defending world champion Bernard Lagat won the race, running at or near the front for three and a half laps, and kicking it in for a time of 3:40.37. Lagat was followed across the line by Leonel Manzano and Lopez Lomong, two worthy competitors who both deserve to be on the team. Lomong, in particular, showed great fortitude in the race as he was bumped off-stride by Said Ahmed with a lap to go, and found himself in the third lane and in ninth place late in the race. he charged back into contention on the backstretch of the last lap, and held on for third. Manzano shadowed Lagat the entire race and was in perfect position to use his formidable kick with 200 to go.
Webb, on the other hand didn't seem to have a plan. At the gun, he half-sprinted the first 100m, ending up near the back of a thick clot of runners who were stumbling an pushing as the pace slowed to a crawl. Then, as Gabe Jennings took the lead and upped the tempo, Webb was caught in last place. With a little over two laps to go, Webb made a big move to improve his position from 12th to about 6th, but then held back again, unwilling to go to the front so early. And there he stayed, running almost the entire last 800m in the second lane.
With 300m to go, Webb still looked like he had a chance, poised in sixth as the kicking began in earnest. As Lomong threw caution to the winds and went into a full sprint at the top of the backstretch, Webb waited. As the pack entered the final turn, it was Lagat, Manzano, and Lomong. Webb's last 200 was fast, but not fast enough to overtake those three. The final indignity came when Webb was caught at the line by William Leer, meaning Webb isn't even an alternate for the team.
The mile (or 1500) seems unique among track events in requiring equal parts physical gifts, mental tenacity, and tactical savvy. Even great runners can be undone if they exercise poor judgment. Webb is a great runner, possessing rare physical gifts and a willingness to work very hard to hone them. But for whatever reason -- lack of confidence, uncertainty about his preparation, or simply poor tactics -- Webb let others dictate the race. I keep coming back to the idea that Webb was ahead of Lomong with 300 to go, in position to finish in the top three. But while Webb waited, Lomong went all-in, risking everything. He passed Webb and reached top speed by the end of the backstratch... and Webb never caught up.
Would a big move with 300 to go have worked for Webb? There's no guarantee. Maybe Webb was already cooked from his mid-race surge, or from a tough semi-final. Maybe he just didn't have the strength yesterday. There's no certainty here. But it does seem as though Webb is his own toughest competitor, as he continues to run championship races without a clear plan of what he needs to do to succeed.
July 06, 2008
Trials is a Farewell for Some
Today is the final day of the Olympic Trials, and most of our attention will be on the qualifiers who earn their shot at Olympic fame in Beijing. As always, the U.S. team will be a mix of exciting newcomers and proven veterans.
There is also a bittersweet aspect to the trials. For some former champions, the meet represents their last chance to compete at the highest level of the sport. For others, their last chance to get to the Olympics. The games only come around every four years and many who competed for a trip to Beijing won't be around when the Olympics lands in London in 2012.
I remember having this same sense in 2000 watching Johnny Gray, the fastest 800 runner in U.S. history, jog home last in his race at the Olympic Trials in Sacramento. He took a lap of honor afterwards, and the crowd applauded wildly to show its appreciation for all he had accomplished... and to say good-bye.
Allen Johnson didn't get a chance for such a lap. The 37-year-old Johnson, a gold medalist in the 110 Hurdles in 1996 and a 4-time world champion in that event, aggravated a left leg injury in the prelims and stepped off the track. It is almost certainly the end of the season, and might be the end of his career.
It was hard to imagine that Adam Goucher will be back in 4 years. The 33-year-old finished 7th in the 10K in a personal best 27:59.31, but that might have been his swan song.
Likewise Meb Keflezighi, also 33 who won a silver medal in Athens in 2004, but failed to qualify for Beijing in either the marathon or 10K. Injuries take their toll on distance runners, and the future seems to belong to the Halls, Ritzenheims, and Rupps.
On of the top U.S. women in the middle distances over the past 12 years, Amy Rudolph finished 13th in the 10K, ending her quest to make her third Olympic team. At 35, it seems unlikely she'll be back in four more years.
Perhaps the most painful stories are of great athletes who never make it to the Olympic Games. 33-year-old David Krummenacker finished 4th in the 800m at the 2004 Trials, and failed to qualify for the finals in Eugene. That would seem to be the end of the Olympic dream for a man who won the world indoor championships in 2003, and won the U.S. outdoor 800m championships three years in a row. But the world belongs to Nick Symmonds and Andrew Wheating now.
At the 2008 Trials, we haven't seen a Johnny Gray moment. We might have seen one if 40-year-old pole vaulter Jeff Hartwig had finished lower in the standings at Eugene, but instead the soon-to-be-retired vaulter cleared 5.70m (18-8.25) to finish second and qualify for Beijing.
For Hartwig, the lap of honor will have to be postponed.
There is also a bittersweet aspect to the trials. For some former champions, the meet represents their last chance to compete at the highest level of the sport. For others, their last chance to get to the Olympics. The games only come around every four years and many who competed for a trip to Beijing won't be around when the Olympics lands in London in 2012.
I remember having this same sense in 2000 watching Johnny Gray, the fastest 800 runner in U.S. history, jog home last in his race at the Olympic Trials in Sacramento. He took a lap of honor afterwards, and the crowd applauded wildly to show its appreciation for all he had accomplished... and to say good-bye.
Allen Johnson didn't get a chance for such a lap. The 37-year-old Johnson, a gold medalist in the 110 Hurdles in 1996 and a 4-time world champion in that event, aggravated a left leg injury in the prelims and stepped off the track. It is almost certainly the end of the season, and might be the end of his career.
It was hard to imagine that Adam Goucher will be back in 4 years. The 33-year-old finished 7th in the 10K in a personal best 27:59.31, but that might have been his swan song.
Likewise Meb Keflezighi, also 33 who won a silver medal in Athens in 2004, but failed to qualify for Beijing in either the marathon or 10K. Injuries take their toll on distance runners, and the future seems to belong to the Halls, Ritzenheims, and Rupps.
On of the top U.S. women in the middle distances over the past 12 years, Amy Rudolph finished 13th in the 10K, ending her quest to make her third Olympic team. At 35, it seems unlikely she'll be back in four more years.
Perhaps the most painful stories are of great athletes who never make it to the Olympic Games. 33-year-old David Krummenacker finished 4th in the 800m at the 2004 Trials, and failed to qualify for the finals in Eugene. That would seem to be the end of the Olympic dream for a man who won the world indoor championships in 2003, and won the U.S. outdoor 800m championships three years in a row. But the world belongs to Nick Symmonds and Andrew Wheating now.
At the 2008 Trials, we haven't seen a Johnny Gray moment. We might have seen one if 40-year-old pole vaulter Jeff Hartwig had finished lower in the standings at Eugene, but instead the soon-to-be-retired vaulter cleared 5.70m (18-8.25) to finish second and qualify for Beijing.
For Hartwig, the lap of honor will have to be postponed.
July 05, 2008
Hasay Runs HS Record, Makes 1500m Finals
It was a another great night of races at the U.S. Olympic Trials, with the 1500m semi-finals, and the finals of the women's 5K and men's 10K.
In the women's 1500m semis, 16-year-old Jordan Hasay started a long sustained kick from 300m out that brought her from 8th to 5th and earned her a spot in Sunday's final. Hasay's time of 4:14.50 broke Christine Babcock's U.S. high school record of 4:16.42, set only two weeks ago and which itself had eclipsed Kim Gallagher's 4:16.6 from way back in 1982.
NBC video of Hasay's race (requires Silverlight)
Babcock was in also in the second semi-final, and went out hard sharing the lead on the first lap. She faded a bit in the final two laps but finished 8th in 4:20.0. A very good time, but overshadowed by Hasay's historic effort.
All-Time U.S. High School Girls 1500 Times:
Four Massachusetts runners competed last night at the Trials. Boston's Said Ahmed qualified for the men's 1500m finals, finishing 6th in his semi in 3:41.05. Marblehead's Shalane Flanagan followed her win in the 10K with a third place finish in the 5K in 15:02.81, two second behind Kara Goucher. Having qualified in both the 10K and 5K, Flanagan left open the possibility that she would compete in both at Beijing. Bromfield School alumna Ari Lambie led the 5K until three laps to go, but couldn't match the pace set by Flanagan, Jen Rhines, and Kara Goucher and finished 6th in 15:29.99. Braintree's Sean Quigley finished 9th (out of 25) in the men's 10K, running 28:21.96.
In the women's 1500m semis, 16-year-old Jordan Hasay started a long sustained kick from 300m out that brought her from 8th to 5th and earned her a spot in Sunday's final. Hasay's time of 4:14.50 broke Christine Babcock's U.S. high school record of 4:16.42, set only two weeks ago and which itself had eclipsed Kim Gallagher's 4:16.6 from way back in 1982.
NBC video of Hasay's race (requires Silverlight)
Babcock was in also in the second semi-final, and went out hard sharing the lead on the first lap. She faded a bit in the final two laps but finished 8th in 4:20.0. A very good time, but overshadowed by Hasay's historic effort.
All-Time U.S. High School Girls 1500 Times:
4:14.50 Jordan Hasay (Mission Prep) 08
4:16.42 Christine Babcock (Irvine Woodbridge) 08
4:16.6 Kim Gallagher (Upper Dublin, Ft Washington, Pennsylvania) 82
4:16.8 *Francie Larrieu (Fremont, Sunnyvale, California) 69
4:16.8 Polly Plumer (University, Irvine, California) 82
4:17.61 Sarah Bowman (Fauquier, Warrenton, Virginia) 05
4:17.84 Alisa Harvey (Jefferson, Alexandria, Virginia) 83
4:18.06 *Lynn Jennings (Bromfield, Harvard, Massachusetts) 77
4:18.62 Suzy Favor (Stevens Point, Wisconsin) 86
4:18.6 Margaret Groos (Harpeth Hall, Nashville, Tennessee) 77
4:18.8 Arianna Lambie (Bromfield, Harvard, Massachusetts) 03
4:18.9 Kathy Gibbons (Alhambra, Phoenix, Arizona)
Four Massachusetts runners competed last night at the Trials. Boston's Said Ahmed qualified for the men's 1500m finals, finishing 6th in his semi in 3:41.05. Marblehead's Shalane Flanagan followed her win in the 10K with a third place finish in the 5K in 15:02.81, two second behind Kara Goucher. Having qualified in both the 10K and 5K, Flanagan left open the possibility that she would compete in both at Beijing. Bromfield School alumna Ari Lambie led the 5K until three laps to go, but couldn't match the pace set by Flanagan, Jen Rhines, and Kara Goucher and finished 6th in 15:29.99. Braintree's Sean Quigley finished 9th (out of 25) in the men's 10K, running 28:21.96.
July 03, 2008
The Trials So Far
The first four days of the Olympic Trials were a wonderful stage for U.S. track and field, and after two rest days, the action begins again today.
Highlights from the first half of the trials included the Oregon sweep in the men's 800 meters, in which (as Alan Webb said) "the Olympic team changed nine times" in the last 150 meters. Nick Symmonds laid off the early pace (50 flat first 400) and he and Andrew Wheating blew everyone else away in the final straight. Lopez Lomong drifted out into the second lane in those last few meters, allowing Christian Smith to dive into the third spot, ahead of early front-runner Khadevis Robinson.
Men's 800m - NBC Video (Requires Silverlight)
In Monday's men's 5000m finals, defending world champion Bernard Lagat won the mad sprint to the finish, with Matt Tegenkamp (fourth fastest American all-time behind Lagat, Bob Kennedy and Sidney Maree) taking second, and Ian Dobson (PR 13:15.33) taking third. The only surprise might have been Dobson, who outkicked Belota Asmeron and Chris Solinsky for his first Olympic berth.
Here's the video, with a few unfortunate mid-identifications in the early laps.
Men's 5000m - NBC video
Solinsky made a gutsy move to take the lead with 1000 to go, but didn't have the finishing speed to hold on.
The women's 10,000 was a showcase for Shalane Flanagan who is attempting the 5000, 10,000m double, who outkicked defending world bronze medalist Kara Goucher. The race was also thrilling for 3rd-place finisher Amy Begley, who had to run a sub-70s final 400m to meet the Olympic "A" standard and earn a ticket to Beijing.
Women's 10K - NBC Video
And then there was the Men's 100m, and six guys under 10.00, led by Tyson Gay's fastest-elapsed-time-in-the-history-of-the-world (but don't use the "R" word) 9.68, aided by a favorable 4m/s wind.
So what's next?
Today's finals include the mens and women's 400m (will LaShawn Merritt take down Jeremy Wariner?) and the women's steeplechase (American Record for Jenny Barringer?). Today is also the first round of qualifying for the men's 1500, with lagat, Alan Webb, and Leonel Manzano the favorites to make the team. the 1500 also features two New England athletes, Boston's Said Ahmed (Boston English, Arkansas) and New Hampshire's and Stanford's Russell Brown.
Highlights from the first half of the trials included the Oregon sweep in the men's 800 meters, in which (as Alan Webb said) "the Olympic team changed nine times" in the last 150 meters. Nick Symmonds laid off the early pace (50 flat first 400) and he and Andrew Wheating blew everyone else away in the final straight. Lopez Lomong drifted out into the second lane in those last few meters, allowing Christian Smith to dive into the third spot, ahead of early front-runner Khadevis Robinson.
Men's 800m - NBC Video (Requires Silverlight)
In Monday's men's 5000m finals, defending world champion Bernard Lagat won the mad sprint to the finish, with Matt Tegenkamp (fourth fastest American all-time behind Lagat, Bob Kennedy and Sidney Maree) taking second, and Ian Dobson (PR 13:15.33) taking third. The only surprise might have been Dobson, who outkicked Belota Asmeron and Chris Solinsky for his first Olympic berth.
Here's the video, with a few unfortunate mid-identifications in the early laps.
Men's 5000m - NBC video
Solinsky made a gutsy move to take the lead with 1000 to go, but didn't have the finishing speed to hold on.
The women's 10,000 was a showcase for Shalane Flanagan who is attempting the 5000, 10,000m double, who outkicked defending world bronze medalist Kara Goucher. The race was also thrilling for 3rd-place finisher Amy Begley, who had to run a sub-70s final 400m to meet the Olympic "A" standard and earn a ticket to Beijing.
Women's 10K - NBC Video
And then there was the Men's 100m, and six guys under 10.00, led by Tyson Gay's fastest-elapsed-time-in-the-history-of-the-world (but don't use the "R" word) 9.68, aided by a favorable 4m/s wind.
So what's next?
Today's finals include the mens and women's 400m (will LaShawn Merritt take down Jeremy Wariner?) and the women's steeplechase (American Record for Jenny Barringer?). Today is also the first round of qualifying for the men's 1500, with lagat, Alan Webb, and Leonel Manzano the favorites to make the team. the 1500 also features two New England athletes, Boston's Said Ahmed (Boston English, Arkansas) and New Hampshire's and Stanford's Russell Brown.
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