The Aid Station

In every well organized longer distance race, you will encounter the aid station.  This is a table that usually provides water and/or Gatorade, while occasionally providing food like bananas, oranges, and Gu.  One race I ran even had what they called the "temptation table" with donut holes and Jack Daniels among other foods, which might not actually help the poor runners, but here I digress.  This basic aid station table can be a life saver for many a runner, if you now how to best take advantage. Here I offer my guidelines for proper aid stationing.  

Tip #1:  scout the race.  Most races will tell you at which mile markers they will provide food and what they will provide.  This is very important information: read it, learn it, love it.  You need to know when and what will be provided so you know you won't die, and so you can bring your own provisions if you still think dying is a possibility.  Besides, it gives you all the information you need for Tip #2, which is to practice your aid stations.  

To properly practice your aid station, you need to set up a table in front of your house, or hire children without anything to do to stand in front and give you water.  Then plan a route that will have you passing in front of your aid station at exactly the miles you will pass them in the race.  This allows your body to figure out what it will feel like before and after getting liquid or nourishment.  (I highly recommend filling paper cups, similar to what you will see in a race so you get used to chugging on the fly, as a paper cup is much different than a squeeze bottle, because unless your name is Meb, no one will give you a squeeze bottle.)  This might look strange to neighbors and sound obsessive to less dedicated runners, but it makes a big difference.  (Tip 2 1/2: if you don't want to loop, arrange with people you know around town to leave water/fuel at their place, just make sure they are trustworthy volunteers)

Here you can also experiment with the duration of your stop.  Tip #3 is to figure out how fast you can get through while ingesting the most calories.  Especially in longer races like the marathon, you can't afford to blow through while spilling most of the water down your shirt.  You will pay for it later in cramps.  But neither do you want to stop, walk around, catch your breath, then try to run again.  In a race, this is all clock time and every time you stop it gets harder to restart. Try different speeds to figure out what feels right for you.  

Tip #4:  Eat solid food before you get to the aid station, so you can wash it down with the water without having to stop.  For example, I carry my first Gu packet in my pocket.  Besides just being excited that I finally discovered a use for the pocket in my running shorts, I discovered that this way I can be finished with it as I approach the water.  Then I grab a refill Gu packet for the road, swig the water, and I am on my way with minimal stoppage time.  

This all may sound like overkill, but it is really just training your body to adapt to one more variable, to take out all the questions marks.  The other side benefit of an aid station is that it gives you human contact.  Volunteers are generally cheery and encouraging. Have your significant other or kids or whoever you can find step out and hand you the water or at least wave as you go by.  You might find a spring in your step when someone cheers for you and you realize that with water and a little love you can go far.  Happy running. 

PS.  You really don't need an aid station if you are running less than an hour, as long as you are reasonably trained and not running someplace like Death Valley.  So don't stop for water in that 5k, that's just embarrassing.  

Blue collar athletes

On a track team, there are glamour events (think sprints and jumps), and blue collar jobs (think distance running and throws).  If you doubt me, think of any track meet you've ever seen televised.  You get the fifteen minutes of viewing time while the sprinters stretch, warmup, wipe their noses, say their prayers, adjust the blocks, and on and on.  You get thirty seconds of the distance race at the start and finish with an ad in between. Granted, the sprinters can score thirty team points in a total of 35 seconds, while distance runners labor for 15 minutes to score one or two, but still, we know who is really working harder.  The throwers of the world never get enough credit either; they demonstrate power and strength that is unmatched on the track and field yet are relegated to the far corners of the stadium.

Maybe it is a case of opposites attracting, or maybe it is just being the neglected athletes of the sport, but I have noticed that distance runners and throwers are often friends, which was my experience as well.  And on more than one occasion, I found it to be a mutually beneficial relationship.

Years ago, my college track team went to a meet in El Paso, Texas, and for an evening excursion, we crossed into Juarez, Mexico.  Back then, Mexico may have been safer ior I may have been more naive, but my thrower friend and I had worked out a plan just in case of an emergency.  If anything scary happened, she would fight the bad guy off, while I ran for help.  We both knew I couldn't do much fighting and she couldn't do much running, so it was pretty easy to agree to the terms of the arrangement.  Fortunately we never had to test the plan, but ever since then I have realized the advantages to having friends who are bigger and stronger than myself.  

I guess the moral of this story is be nice to the hard working, blue collar athletes. Throwers are good to have on your side in a pinch, and you should never undervalue the skill set of a distance runner.  You never know when you might need someone to run for help. Happy running.

Stinky possibilities

What, exactly, is the reload time for a skunk who is spraying an enemy?  

This question was posed by my sister in the middle of our 18 mile run last Friday. Yes, a strange thought, but a very practical one too. I am guessing she was wondering how long she had to escape if she threw me in front of the skunk before he could get her, too.  Which brings up another ethical-moral dilemma:  to stink or not to stink.  Should a loyal running partner take the brunt of a skunk spray to save one's companion, or is that a case of every runner for herself? I have not, fortunately, had to find an answer to this question, but one always ought to figure these things out in advance. 

You never know when you might encounter a skunk.  I was in the middle of a long run few weeks ago when a small skunk emerged from the bushes in front of me and crossed the road.  I had a brief moment of concern.  If he was not alone, or if he changed directions and retreated, we would be on track for a collision course, which would not end well for me.  My initial reaction was that if I got sprayed, I wouldn't be able to finish my run.  (I worry about myself slightly that my fears were not for the smell that would reek from me but whether or not I would complete the workout.)  Luckily we did not have the dreaded encounter, but it did get me thinking about what to do the next time.  Would I be the better person and sacrifice myself for my partner, or would I simply run for help?  Either way, the one who got sprayed still has to walk home because there's no sane person who would let you in their car.  Could I run fast enough to avoid the spray? Let's hope I never have to find out. And let's hope we never find out how quickly skunks reload either. But thanks, Kristy, for encouraging me to think about it and helping me pass a few more miles deep in thought.  

Run like a Horse to the barn

In honor of all things rodeo this week (it is That Famous Preston Night Rodeo week), let me tell you about the workout I call "the horse to the barn" run.  I first became aware of this phenomenon in college, when I was out for an easy run with a group of girls.  The first half was indeed easy, but as we turned around and headed for home, we gradually picked up the pace until we were running at a pace that could be described as a full gallop, much faster than the comfortable trot we had started with.  When we finally stopped and realized how much we had increased the pace, one girl apologized, and mentioned how we were running like horses that could sense the barn and so were racing to get back.  That stuck with me, and now any workout with comedown miles (negative splits) reminds me of a horse running back to the barn.  

My marathon training plan calls for several of these type of workouts on the long run day. For example, it prescribes a 16 mile run.  The first 8 are comfortable pace, but the last eight get progressively faster, decreasing pace by about ten seconds a mile, until the last mile is at half-marathon pace.   This is a challenging workout, but one I highly recommend because it teaches your body to run harder when it is tired.  It really builds confidence that I will be able to push harder those last eight to ten miles of the marathon.  It also feels surprisingly good to shift gears after maintaining a steady pace for so long, and I start getting excited the last few miles when I know I am almost home.  It is a great workout; run like a horse who can smell the barn. 

Running the Overnight Relay

My sister is running in the Epic Events Cache-Teton Relay in just a few weeks.  It has me thinking about my own experiences with the overnight relays.  My family team (with a few friends, but by the end you are adopted in to the family) ran the Wasatch Back relay, part of the Ragnar Relay series, three consecutive years.  We finished third, third, and then second, so things went well for us.  I also ran with another family's team last year as a last minute fill in, so I have some different experiences in relays.  All this to say that I recommend them for anyone seeking a more team oriented race, or a race that covers a long distance, but not all at once.  However, it is a different sort of beast, so I have some advice for anyone attempting one.  Here goes:

1. You need to have more than 12 people in your pool of potential runners.  Inevitably, someone will get hurt, sick, or chicken out before the actual race, and you will need a quick replacement. Have people you know have been running ready as backups.  

2.  12 runners x a lot of teams x a lot of granola bars and fresh fruit= always carry an extra roll of toilet paper. Just trust me on this one. 

3. Husbands and wives should never be in the same van. After not sleeping all night and running 15+ miles, you might not take it well when your husband tells you to get in your rhythm.  Especially if you already are in your rhythm, and that's as good as it gets.

4.  If you disregard Rule #3, then be sure you take along your marriage counselor as one of your runners.  (Thanks Mardee!)

5. Do not put the sick guy in the back seat.  Here's the story: in an effort to get quickly to the next exchange, everyone piled into our van, with the one who had just finished struggling thorough a very difficult leg ended up in the backseat.  That was an unfortunate mistake because it is very hard to get out if you need to throw up.  Suffice it to say, the first time we turn on the air conditioning in our van every summer, we get a little essence of Marvin floating through our car. 

6.  Train like crazy.  This is a fun race, but it covers some serious terrain, and you will feel the miles in your legs, should you live to see the finish line.  Besides, it makes a big difference if you finish in 22 hours instead of 32.  It is worth it to train a bit.  

7. Don't plan on sleep.  If you do go into a darkened school gym to lay down somewhere, don't turn off your phone, and don't take the car keys with you.  When your van mates are trying to find you, every body in a sleeping bag will look the same and they don't want to make enemies by shining a light in each face.  

8.  Also don't give the car keys to the guy asleep in the van with the doors locked.  It will be nigh unto impossible to wake him without waking everyone else in the neighborhood, which again, makes grumpy neighbors.  

9.  When drinking your drink box, do not feel like you have to sip down to the very last noisy drop.  Remember tired runners have raw nerves, and the slurping at the bottom of the box might lead them to hide the rest of your food so you can't bother them again.  Same thing is true of crinkly cellophane wrappers.  Leave them home or save them for daylight.

10.  If you want the fastest time possible, assign the fastest runners to the longest legs.  This generally means you will want to mix up men and women in each van so one van doesn't get all the rest, while the other van spends more time on the course. 

11. Have fun.  It is great to run on a team, and challenge yourself in new ways.  It will be exhausting but exhilarating.  Happy running.  

Talents

While I love being athletic and playing sports, I also love music.  But I decided long ago that I when it came time in heaven to hand out the talents, I must have spent all my time in the sports lines and by the time I got in the musical talent line they were scraping the bottom of the barrel.   Alas, despite the efforts of my good Mother, I didn't put the time into learning the piano that I should have, so I realize any lack of talent is completely my own fault.  I was busy running off to soccer or track practice or to do anything else that didn't involve sitting at the piano.  Go figure.  However, there is a part of me that would love to be the elegant concert pianist, touching souls with heavenly music rather than pounding out rhythms on the pavement.
Now don't get me wrong. I value my talents and am immensely grateful for them. But sometimes I wonder what good it is.  I mean, in the eternal scheme of things, why run?  In case you haven't noticed, running for long periods of time and kicking a ball through the grass are not exactly considered performing arts, and therefore rarely needed for service in inspirational settings.  

Case in point:  I was talking with a friend one day who has a beautiful singing voice.  I complimented her on a musical number she performed at a funeral that was inspiring and emotional, and I wished that I could sing like her.  She accepted the compliment, and tried to return one by saying, "But you are really good at running."
Great, I said, but how often do people want me to run at their funeral? I have never been asked to run in church or at someone's wedding.  Talent shows have never begged me to run around the stage.  Can you imagine what folks would say when I threw my hair in a ponytail and started doing laps around the chapel? Thrilled, I'm sure.
So here I sit, knowing that while I value my talents, I will never be asked to perform them for anyone.   Maybe my talents aren't designed to help others.  But maybe they are perfecting me one mile at a time.  Running is polishing off the rough edges, humbling me by doses, and connecting me to people around me.  I have made excellent friends through running, solved problems, and found little nuggets of inspiration hidden along the side of the road.  I have enjoyed the amazing creation of my own body, as well as experienced the wonderful creation of the world around me.  

My sweaty feet have never been called angelic; my races will never move anyone to tears.  I won't ever be a concert musician, but my talents are perfect for teaching me the things I need to know to get through this life.  So on I go.  Happy running. 

Life is a race, not a Beauty pagaent

 Not that I have anything against beauty pageants, but life is more comparable to a race than a beauty contest. The main difference is that most of life occurs with sweat and a ponytail rather than evening gowns and perfectly coiffed hair.   Most of the hard work gets done in running shoes instead of heels. Just thought you ought to know.