Compression. Again.

I wrote a blog a year ago, Compression Sucks, where I defaced the name of compression socks.  I was mad because I'd gone through three different brands of compression tubes and paid over $60 per pair.  They hurt my legs to the point that I couldn't run more than 3 miles while wearing them.  What's the point of wearing something that hurts?  I concluded that I would go back to a bare bones tactic and throw out compression for good.

However, if you look back through the majority of my pictures in the last year, you'll find me a liar...

Pre Race Throw Aways.  I invest good money at the Goodwill just to toss them out.  My compression, however, keep me warm and toasty all the way through!

My husband photo bombing me. Notice the socks?

Compression Socks in Vegas! Not sure why I'm showing a little leg...?

At the finish line of the Colfax Marathon.  Compression helped a lot!

Again, compression.  You get the idea.  Apparently I signal a "touchdown" every finish!

In my defense, I threw away my CEP compression socks.  They HURT!  I felt like a snake was sucking the life from my veins within minutes of running.  Yes, I was properly fitted for the sock, they just didn't work for me.

While training for my first marathon, I found my legs continued to become extremely sore after my long runs without compression, so I opened the flood gate once more and decided to branch off to less popular brands.  I finally found Vitalsox, which provided the right balance of compression and zero pain.  That sounds more like it!  (The company doesn't endorse me, I just really like their products.) 

Here is why I believe strongly in compression socks:

1. They provide ankle, calf, and knee support, which can be awfully handy on longer runs, during speed training, or if you average 20+ miles a week.  
2. My legs are rediculously sore when I don't wear compression, and hardly sore at all the next day when I do.  (That's a no brainer for me.)
3. People argue compression socks/tights increase performance.  I don't know if I agree or not, but if I am less sore from a previous day's run, I run better the following day.  
4. They keep my legs warmer in the winter.  Okay, this sucks in the summer. 
5. I wear 0-4mm drop shoes which puts a lot more strain on the calf muscles.  I feel that strain compounded when I don't wear them.   My incident for injury has been less since wearing them regularly.

Compression is a finicky thing and you have to find the brand that works best for you.  So far I've only found one brand that I really like and trust.  However, I wouldn't put a lot of faith in increasing performance.  They obviously are not a magical stocking that will make you the athlete you've always dreamed of being, but I believe in them enough to run in them 100% of the time.  I even wear them on my treadmill because I hate being sore.  I have 30 stairs in my house that I prefer to navigate on my feet, not my butt. 


What do you think of compression?
Is there a brand that works best for you?
Do you wear them during your run or afterwards?
Have you tried arm compression?

~Roadburner

Not Bonking Before Boston

Let's keep things simple.  I am not extremely fast.  I've only run for little more than five and a half years, and raced for less than two.  There's seven half marathon medals hanging from my medal hanger.  I've only completed one marathon; I have another on the way.  I desperately want to qualify for Boston in the next couple of years and it annoys me when people say, "I qualified for Boston without training."  As if the cherished Boston Qualifying time is really no big deal and those of us slow runners are clearly doing something wrong.  I am happy for people that are naturally fast.  But I am not.  So, what does it take for a normal runner like me, going from a 4:25 finish to a make the 3:35 cut off?   I am going to have to work my tail off, and perhaps my addiction to cookies, in order to achieve my biggest dream of running the Boston Marathon.

Here is where I've come from:

I'm 29.  I am a mom of two hilarious and energetic boys.  Colorado has been my home since birth and I can't imagine living anywhere else.  (Although a lower elevation and less hills would definitely have their perks.)    I started running when my oldest son Ethan was born.  Before that, I was a history teacher.  And before that, I was a hiker, mountain biker, skier, student, and gymnast.

Fast forward to March 17, 2012.  I finished my first 5K in 30:30.  My goal was to finish and hopefully not walk too much.  A month later, I finished my first 10K, a trail race, in 62:05.  Only a week before this race, I ran 6 miles for the very first time.

During the summer of 2012, I ran a series of three duathlons in the run/bike/run format.  I won my division twice and placed second in the other.  Racing duathlons taught me it was about running a smart race.  Everyone else took off really fast, while I studied my watch and paced myself based on previous winning times.

Within one summer, I took my 5K pace down to 25:03.

September 2012, my husband joined me to run my first ever half marathon.  We crossed the finish line together and I couldn't have cared less what the clock said.  I ran 13.1 miles.  Booya!  (We finished 2:01:49.)

After my first half marathon, I ran 3 more to finish off the year.  Last year, I set a new half marathon PR of 1:52:06.  I never hit a wall during that race and I felt like I had more in me when I crossed the finish line.

My first full was the 2013 Colfax Marathon where I finished 4:25:17.

Exactly one month before the race, I bought a new house, moved, caught the flu while moving, and found out pleurisy is not a medieval disease, but a very current and sadly blistering side effect from respiratory infections.  One week after being diagnosed, I ran my first and only 20 miler where I puked my guts out in front of a horrified 5 year old boy.  

Here is where I am going:

This year, I turn 30 years old.  I will have known my husband for half my life.  We have been best friends and each other's biggest advocates since 15 years old.  This is important because without his support, I would doubt myself constantly.

My youngest son starts preschool this August, which will allow me the opportunity to train harder.  I currently wake up at 5:50 every morning and run for an hour or more until my boys wake.  While I never regret a sunrise, running later in the day will help vary my running routes.   

The Colfax Marathon is May 18, which leaves me 16 weeks to train for my goal of finishing in 3:58.  This is a huge jump in time, but I am much stronger and faster than I was a year ago.  My average pace jumped from 9:40 down to 8:30 in the last six months.  I follow the Hansen's Marathon Method very closely and believe in the method equally.

If I can finish Colfax in sub-4:00, I will start training for faster half marathon times this summer, I need around a 1:43 to feel confident.  Then I will continue my speed training and tempo runs at a 7:30-8:00 pace and try really hard not to bloody my knees.

Boston is not unattainable.  It is a lot of work.  I wasn't born with quick feet and standing at 5'4", I don't exactly have a long stride on my side.  I'm not an elegant runner, I typically fall flat on my face a few days before every race, so that I toe the line with scabs.  But who says I am not capable of working just as hard as all the other qualifiers?  I visited Boston for a family vacation two and a half years ago and while walking the streets I told my oldest son, Ethan, "Someday, Mommy will be this fast." 

~Roadburner

Bearing Hansen's

I dedicated myself to the Hansen's Marathon Method for the Colfax Marathon in May.  Many people see this as a very strange approach to training, but most are curious how this method effects my body.  To begin, Hansen's is very different than Hal Higdon.  Simply put, I run more than I ever have, and I feel it!  My previous training plan required 3-4 days a week, with one long run on the weekend.  Higdon slowly built up the mileage on the weekends adding, one mile each week, until the 20 mile run, after which you taper and race.

On the other hand, Hansen's requires a much larger commitment.  I currently run 6 days a week, with Wednesdays off.  Being in the early phase of the program, I average between 35-42 miles a week.  There is no long run.  Instead, you spread those miles out over 6 days, changing speeds each day to work different muscle groups in the body.  In the height of the training program, I will reach 60 miles a week, with a 16 mile run on the weekends.  After the race, I will have run 1,024 miles in about 5 months.  The goal is to run tired.  Not to the point of injury, but just enough to feel fatigued at the beginning of each run.  They want you to feel like it is the last 16 miles of the race, not the first.

I started the schedule a month ahead of time in order to slowly increase my weekly distance from 20 miles per week up to 40.  I didn't want to risk injury once the real work began.  Therefore, I've run 6 days a week for 13 weeks and here's what I've noticed so far:

1. Doubling my weekly mileage with only one rest day was painful.  I found my joints and muscles were extremely fatigued just walking up the stairs after a run.  However, that discomfort never turned into injury and never stopped me from running the next day.
2. About 3-4 weeks ago, most of that discomfort disappeared.  I am no longer sore after a really hilly and fast 8-10 mile run.  In fact, I feel stronger the next day.
3. Food tastes better!  Each week I run off at least 3,680 calories.  At first I felt starved.  Honestly, I think my body was in shock.  But now that I've adjusted to the new schedule, I'm not that hungry.  Food, just tastes really freaking good!  
4. What I eat directly effects the next day's performance.  I've always known this, but I pay the price on a larger scale when I detour.   
5. Cumulative exhaustion (not resting entirely between each running day), is no joke.  I feel it throughout my body and often I start a 6 mile run feeling like I already ran 3-4 miles.  
6. I slept like a fitful baby with colic for over a month.  Every night I went to bed completely exhausted.  I'd fall asleep around 9:30pm and wake around 12:00am.  I'd wake every hour to half hour for the rest of the night, tossing and turning.  Within the last few weeks, I started sleeping normally again.  I no longer wake with aches and pains, a racing mind, or crazy hot muscles. 
7. I'm getting stronger.  Before starting Hansen's, my cruising pace was about 9:20 per mile.  Now, I'm at 8:30.  
8. This training plan scares the hell out of me.  One month ago was my first real speed training session.  A few weeks ago was my first tempo run.  Six months ago, I thought people who ran 6 days a week were begging for injury.  I'm very nervous to reach the 60 miles per week, but my body has handled it so far.
9. I have to follow the plan exactly.  If I skip a day, go out faster than prescribed, or don't work really hard, I notice the effects the next day.  I'm also afraid of getting injured.  
10. Rest days are miserable.  I am painfully sore on Wednesdays and I feel really fidgety. 
11. Runners respond to this method really negatively, "You can't possibly think you are going to do well at Colfax without running a 20 miler somewhere in there!"  Or they say, "You are running too much."  
12. Non runners think I'm crazy.  I've actually had people look me in the eyes and say, "I'm sorry."   

I've got 17 weeks left until the race. Last year, I ran Colfax in 4:25.  I hit the wall a couple times on the course.  It was a harder course than I expected with much bigger hills than I imaged rolling around Downtown Denver.  I ran with pleurisy, which I wouldn't recommend to anyone.  Since that race, I've told people I want another go.  I want to prove that I am stronger than 4:25.  This year, I aim to run Colfax in under 4:00.  I am training for a strong 3:58 finish. 

~Roadburner

Mother's Marathoning Guilt

Six years ago my first son, Ethan, came along.  I quit teaching 8th grade American History and became a stay at home mom.  I about drove myself crazy.  My A-type personality desperately needed goals and stress.  And worse yet, I didn't sleep for the first 14 months of Ethan's life as he had allergies, colick, and severe reflux.  He slept 2 hour stints at the most, and pretty much cried the other times he was awake.  It was a really trying first year and while I would like to look back at that time with a great sense of humor, you couldn't pay me a zillion dollars to go back to that stage.  My poor husband must have thought I was going to jump off the deep end any moment as I cried a lot and rolled my eyes at him equally.  Fast forward six years and Ethan is healthy, happy, hilarious, and vibrant.  Oh, and he SLEEPS!  Thank God. 

My boys at the park this summer.

Anyway, the point of my story is that I needed something to hold onto.  I needed a firm rope to keep me grounded.  My husband took up running around this time and I thought he was crazy to run 6-8 miles in one day.  "There is no way that is healthy!" I would grumble.  But I was secretly jealous that he had the strength and courage to run out that door every day and somehow run back in an hour later.

My husband at the Air Life Memorial 10K in 2012 where he PR'd by over 5 minutes!

Somewhere along the line, I started running to save my sanity.  I desperately needed those few hours a week to myself.  I didn't push a jogging stroller, EVER.  I didn't want a baby with me.  It was, and still is, MY time.  I am a better mother, wife, friend, and person when I run.  My weekly mileage stands for so much more than a number.  Those are the steps I took away from my family every week.  They were the moments where no one asked me for the 14th snack of the day, or desperately needed to know right now, at this very moment, "WHERE is my bear?"  No one is grabbing my legs or pulling my fingers one direction or another.  Orange juice is not being spilled all over my freshly cleaned couch.  I am alone for that one hour and holy bonanza, I LOVE it!

When I walk back in the door every morning, my boys greet me with a much anticipated, "Good morning, Mom!"  Their little smiles bring me back to reality, and in my post run high, I run up to each of them with big sweaty hugs and kisses and find out about last night's dreams. We immediately begin planning our daily adventures together while I make breakfast.

When I first started running, it was only 3 days a week, maybe 10-15 miles.  Over time, that number has dramatically grown and my commitment to the sport has tripled.  I ran my first marathon using the Hal Higdon training method, which dedicated 25-35 miles per week.  For my second go at the Colfax Marathon, I've taken on an entirely different training strategy that requires 50 miles per week on average, spread out over 6 days. That's about 8 hours a week.  In short, my kids hate the new schedule. 

Daily, I return from my morning runs as my boys greet me with amazing hugs and then quickly ask, "Why do you ALWAYS have to run?  When are you going to stop this?  Didn't you just run yesterday?"  I tell them that running makes mommy happy and healthy and it is the only thing that I ask for every day that is strictly for me.  They don't understand that yet, and I hope it will someday sink in.  My husband is extremely supportive and he tells them the same things, but I can't help feel the insane amount of guilt when their little puppy eyes beg me to stop this nonsense. 

I've begun getting up an hour earlier (5:45am or before) so that I can run and be finished, or close to being done by the time everyone else in the house wakes up.  But I still hear complaints on the weekend when I run longer, or if I miss their waking up by 10-15 minutes.  I started this nonsense to break away for small fractions of time.  I needed goals outside my kids.  It was a way to find me again.  Yes, I am a mom, but I am more than that.  And running proved it.  When I am with my kids, I give them 100%.  I love them desperately, but there has to be a balance. 

I don't want running to get in the way of everyone else in my family.  They didn't sign up for the marathon, I did.  It shouldn't affect my kids or husband, but the reality is, you can't train to run 26.2 miles without putting a little pressure on the system.  It's with their unwavering support and patience that I will cross the finish line again in May. 


How do you strike the balance between parenthood and mileage?  
Does your family make you feel guilty for running?

~Roadburner
 

Boozer Street

I visited my parents in Omaha this weekend. 

The three day weekend started by almost giving my dad a heart attack.  For once, my mom and I kept my visit a secret.  She picked me up from the airport, made plans to meet him for lunch, and the second my dad got in the car, I jumped up from the back seat and said nice and loud, "Hi, Dad!" My dad jumped backward out of the car, tripped on the curb, and left only the elegant words behind, "OH! SHIT!"

Yeah, I have that effect on people.  Once everyone dried themselves from the pee inducing laughter, we had a great weekend.  We ate some great food, I made late night sand angels in the sand traps of their local golf course, and I had a nice 6 mile run at what felt like sea level.

My mom and dad recently moved to a new side of Omaha and I don't know the area well.  So my mom offered to help by plotting a path along the "Boozer Trail." She said it would spit me out somewhere near a lake.  Sounds good.  But who is the drunk guy?

Dad's theory was Boozer must have been some infamous drunk who got hit by a train years ago and they renamed the road after him to serve as a lesson to future drunks.  I cackled at my dad's hilarious theory.  "Hey kids, don't pee on the third rail.  Look what happened to Boozer!" 

Unwilling to leave it at that, I grabbed a smart phone and I found the story of an incredible man. Bob Boozer was not a drunk.  He was born in Omaha, Nebraska in 1937.  He was an African American who graduated from Kansas State University, won a gold medal in the 1960 Summer Olympics, and was drafted into the NBA where he played for the Cincinnati Royals.  As if that wasn't enough of an illustrious career, when he retired from basketball, Bob became an executive for Bell systems (the phone company), and dedicated much of his wealth and volunteered endless hours at Boys Town, a local home for troubled youth.

Bob Boozer's honorable image is the one I carried with me on my 6 mile run to Lake Zorinsky.  The trail follows the Boozer Highway, which is situated next to the rail road tracks.  It winds next to some high school stadiums, a few neighborhoods, and many quiet hidden gems along the way. 

While many of the runners on the path were quite rude, refusing to return a smile or "hello," I felt honored running in the shadow of a great local man.  I would have never known of Bob Boozer had running not created that connection.

Denver Rock 'n Roll 2013

After every race, I have a myriad of mixed feelings.  Did I go hard enough?  Did I start too fast?  Should I have stayed with a pace group?  Overall, I am happy with my new PR at the Denver Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon yesterday.  I earned a 1:52:06.  Compared to last year's time of 2:01:49, I'd say that's a worthy improvement. 

Before the race. It was actually a pleasantly warm morning!

Monica, my husband Randall, and I all stayed ahead of the 1:50 pace group for the first 10 miles.  Somehow at mile 10, there was a crowded water station that forced people single file and the next time I looked up, not only were the 1:50 pacers ahead of me, but I'd lost my friend and husband in the crowd. 

My husband photo-bombed me at mile 4.  I love running with my husband and friends.  They keep it light and fun!

I didn't start the race wanting a specific time.  Start strong, finish fast.  That's it.  I wanted to improve on last year's 2 hour finish and I knew I could accomplish that goal.  If I felt good I would maintain between an 8:20-8:40 pace, averaging right at 8:30 miles.  Every time I looked at my watch it read right at 8:30.  Seeing the reality of that goal, mile-after-mile, boosted my spirits and kept me feeling strong right to mile 10.  I knew the 1:50 pace group was right at our heals starting at mile 8 and if I wanted to stay ahead of them we'd need to speed up for the finish. 

The 10th mile was at the top of a long but not very steep hill.  People were tiring out and the water station was extremely crowded.  I saw Monica slip behind me, as did Randall and I assumed they were grabbing a drink.  Then the dreaded pace flag bounced along in front of me and I became really mad at myself.  How can I hold them off for 10 freaking miles, and let them go just like that?  I surged forward as fast as my tired legs could run, but those 15 people kept pulling away slowly and I couldn't keep up. 

A man at the back of the pack kept belching out weird support-driven tirades, "Don't fade now!"  "Keep going!"  "PUSH! PUSH! You are stronger than that weakness in your knees!" "Finish strong and speed up, even if you might pass out!"  To be honest, he provided the demotivation I needed to slow down a bit.  I didn't want to hear him screaming at the top of his lungs for 3.1 more miles about how good he felt and how crappy I was suddenly feeling.  It is funny how one moment I can feel unstoppable but the second someone screams at me not to be tired, my legs feel instantly wrecked and I need  to find a cold place to cuddle up in the grass with a Tangerine Gu.

From the Oatmeal.

I put headphones in my ears to drown out the sounds of my heavy breathing and suddenly exhausted thoughts and pushed towards the finish.  Last year I felt like a complete rock star when I crossed the finish line.  Crowds were screaming, lights were flashing, music was playing, and I was smiling at cameras left and right.  This year, I am sure all that stuff was equally as thrilling, but I was focused on a ruthless lady in green.

She was wearing a long sleeved, green pullover and her blonde hair bounced in unison with our steps.  I felt boxed in and tried to move around her.  I surged forward but I was in no way racing her to the finish until she suddenly sped up and wouldn't let me by her for anything.  I found that insulting and made it my life's goal to pass her.  No success was more important at that moment.  We raced each other those final 200 yards to the finish in an all out sprint.  Why?  I don't know.  If I had that in me still, why didn't I use it to catch the Oatmeal's Blerch in that damn pace group?  Where was my fire 20 minutes ago? 
 

My husband Randall, me, and Monica

I crossed the finish line excited about my new PR and felt suddenly remorseful for engaging with that green lady.  I walked over to her and patted her on the shoulder to make amends.  After gathering a banquet of Gatorade, water, chocolate milk, bagels, and granola bars, we headed back to the car to nurse my chafed legs and enjoy some nicely stocked warm sweats and Irish hot cocoa.    

My precious Irish hot cocoa post race listening to Atlas Genius.

I am strong

While I was training for the Colfax Marathon, I came up with a really simple mantra to get me over the hard spots during training.  It wasn't anything awesome, but it worked.  "1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3..."  Mind-blowing, eh?  Yeah, I tried more creative sayings like, "Run harder!" or "Keep Go-ing," or "Get it done."  I found those sayings downright distracting and they defeated their purposes entirely.  The reason I employed self-talk, was because I couldn't run harder.  I was desperately trying to get that 20 miler in the books, and I didn't know if I could physically run anymore.  Counting seemed basic.  I found myself getting from one step to the next and starting all over again.  My feeble mind couldn't think of much else. 

I've used my counting strategy often while running the trails behind my house this summer, but it lost its effectiveness.  Every time I try to count my way up a hill, I get distracted and find myself counting the actual steps, which only leads to me thinking of how many more steps I must have until I get to the top of that awful hill. 

My mom suggested a long time ago that I sing a song in my head instead of repeating a mantra.  She thought "Ants go Marching," would be relevant and slightly hilarious.  How many revolutions of that song could I get through when running 26.2 miles?  I tried it and it quickly changed to "The ants go marching 4 by 4, Harrah, Harrah.  The ants go marching 4 by 4, the little one stops to wretch on the floor...."  It didn't work. 

This morning I ran my 5 mile loop on the same trails behind my house that find me every morning.  This particular loop has a mean 2 mile long hill that feels relentless.  It's grade varies from 5% up to 12% inclines.  Halfway up the hill I desperately wanted to stop and walk, but I thought about all the goals I have for new PRs in the half marathon and full marathon distance.  I can't get there by walking.  I told myself, "I am strong."  Instead of counting, I repeated, "I am strong. I am strong. I am strong," with each step. 

It worked.  I got to the top of the hill, tired as all get out with another 2 miles of hills to go, but I made it and I wasn't slow.  I ran those 2 miles under an 8:30 pace.  I AM strong dammit! 


What is your running mantra?  When do you need it most?

~Roadburner