Untamed Runner

I get frequent questions about running shoes, even from seasoned runners. Initially, this surprised me. However, given how frequently shoe technology changes and how much manufacturers tinker with their designs, it’s not uncommon for runners to change brands from time to time when their go-to model doesn’t work any longer. When that happens to me, I’ll be curious about what other shoe models are out there and how they compare to what I’ve been wearing. The shoe types that were similar to yours in the past may not be any more and when you’re brought out brands or models you’ve never considered, naturally you want to know more. Since I’m not a shoe engineering expert, I’ll rely on the product knowledge of the folks working at the store.

I’ve written on shoes in the past and much of that information still holds true. The main difference now from four years ago, besides the technology, is price–currently standard models are in the $140-180 range. But, as the most important piece of gear for running, it’s good to invest in something that will work well.

There are many different vendors, models, and shoe shapes. Many companies have, in varying degrees, stayed with the traditional higher drop, where the sole at the heel is taller than at the forefoot. Following the barefoot running trend from several years ago, some shoe companies have focused on creating zero drop soles and still others have gone to more extreme cushioning. The best way to know where you fit on this scale is to go and try several on.

My decisions are based on comfort and feel. If I go to a local running store and buy something in the aforementioned price range, I’m confident that the cushioning and stability is well-designed and that the shoe will last within the standard range of 400-500 miles.

How do you know whether you’re a 400, 450, or 500 mile person? I’ve not seen a formula and I’ve gone with the assumption it’s something learned. One subtle way to determine this it to recognize how you’re feeling during and after the run. Setting aside outlier factors like long runs or high-intensity speed workouts that will wear you down more than a standard run, if you’re feeling more muscle strain or fatigue than normal, it’s possible a new pair of shoes will help.

You can also test it in reverse. Once you’ve gotten a new pair, after a couple weeks take a run in the former pair. I did this the other day and when I started the run, I could tell the cushion and support were shot. Not only did I feel it during the run, I felt it the next day, too. Clearly I had switched in time, and I’d possibly stretched the old pair a little too long. Had it been the opposite feeling, I would have planned to alternate them with my new pair for a couple of weeks until I’d fully worn them out.

Often you can use a model of a shoe for a long period of time and just switch out for the latest model when you’re done. It’s likely you’ll need to change at some point. When that occurs, there are plenty of options to keep yourself logging miles.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine sent me a link for the Mile High Mile, a one-mile track race being held at a local high school. It featured many different heats including youth, high school, masters, elite, etc. Some readers of my blog may recall that in late 2019, I was planning to focus on training for and racing the mile during the upcoming year. Part of my reasoning was to engage with different styles of training including short, speed-focused efforts. I started on this endeavor, I bought a pair of racing flats, and then Covid slammed us. While the pandemic didn’t prevent me from making changes to my workouts, without any formal mile races on the calendar, I continued running my traditional distances.

When this mile race came up, I jumped on the opportunity. I’ve not been tailoring my workouts for shorter distances so I didn’t feel fully prepared but I figured I didn’t have much to lose. And, I still had the race flats.

There were unfamiliar things for me. The race was at night, as opposed to in the morning like most others, but I did a night 5K a few years ago in Phoenix so I had some relatively recent experience. The last time I did an organized track race was twenty-five years ago. I’ve run plenty on tracks but doing so in a tight space with other people is different. The shortest distance I’ve raced outside of time trials in the last twenty-five years is a 5K, so this was less than one-third of that distance.

With all of this in mind, the sun behind the horizon, and the stadium lights fully illuminating the track and stands, the starter fired her pistol. Off the line and through the first quarter, I felt like there was no way I’d be able to maintain my planned place. Yet, as I crossed the line to conclude the first lap, it hit me that I had three laps to go, not seven or eleven and a half. This is what happens when you run a distance outside of your normal repertoire. While I was still red-lining and straining, the size of the task became more manageable.

One thing that I’ve appreciated about speed work and time trials on a track is that you can easily check your pace every 100 meters and, if needed, adjust. As I finished the first 809 meters and headed into the final 800, I had maintained a good pace with some small tweaks here and there and felt solid. I couldn’t have picked up the speed but I felt confident I could hold it and maybe push a little.

There was one runner in front of me who was making the same adjustments I was, meaning my chances of catching him were small. I also suspected someone was right behind me but, per my last post, I focused on the heels of the next runner. By the end, we’d all maintained our places. My goal going into the race was 5:49 and I finished at 5:43. This was likely a combination of a conservative estimate combined with race flats. More importantly, it was fun, at least the kind of fun you have when running as hard as you can for roughly 1,080 steps. And, it was good to finally do a race distance I’d hoped to do nearly three years ago.

The track club that put this event on hosts meets during the summer. I’ve always intended to try one but this may be the nudge I needed to actually go to more of them next year. Even if you’re not perfectly prepared for an event, and whether or not you plan to run it again, doing something different can bring a little joy.

During my formative running years a friend of mine said that in a race, the only person who has any business checking behind them is the one in first place. Everyone else should be focusing on the next runner ahead. Besides the symbolic value of focusing on gaining time and catching people ahead of you, there are multiple reasons for this.

Turning your head and looking over your shoulder can slow you down just a fraction of a second. This may not be a big deal in a longer race but to look back repeatedly will add time. (Even the person in first place should minimize their checking.)

If someone turns and checks over their shoulder it can mean two things. It’s possible they feel fine and want to see whether they need to kick it up a gear or keep cruising. Or, they’re running out of gas and are concerned that they’ll get caught. If I look back, I figure I’m giving away information that I don’t want to reveal. While anyone behind me will be trying to catch me anyway, why give them extra motivation?

For these reasons, I almost always keep my eyes looking forward but there are scenarios where I may need to see who’s behind me. A few years ago, I was running a 10K and it was ridiculously hot outside. I’d run the opening half of the race way too fast and with a mile to go, I was in fourth place but struggling. It was obvious that I was not going to catch the person ahead of me so in the interest of maintaining my place, I checked over my shoulder several times in the last mile to see where the next runner was. I gauged what I needed to do to stay ahead of the next folks without falling apart, hoping that I had the energy to do so. I did, and in this situation breaking the rule was, in my mind, justified.

While looking ahead is better, if there are times I need to know who’s behind me there are a few simple ways to do this without actually fully checking over my shoulder.

If the course has turns, especially ones that swing you more than 90 degrees in one direction, once I’m on that turn, I’ll swivel my head just a bit to see who’s behind me. If it’s a 180 degree turn, I won’t even need to turn my head.

If the course goes underneath any roads and thus puts me in a small tunnel, if someone is close behind me, I’ll be able to hear them clearly with the echoes, assuming they enter the tunnel while I’m in there. If I don’t hear anything, I at least have a gap of the tunnel length on them.

Spectators along the course will often give a few claps or small cheers for any runners who come by. If I pass a group of spectators, I listen for when they’re making noise for the next runner and I then know where that person is.

As runners, we want to focus on going faster and, if we’re not in first place, then getting as close to that person as possible. While checking behind you is a natural temptation, minimizing it conserves time, doesn’t reveal how you might be feeling, and keeps you in a better position to improve your time and place.

With the blazing temperatures sweeping across the country, a post on hot weather running seems appropriate. Links to my past posts on this, which include my preparations and experiences, are at the bottom of this one. And, while I am still using the strategies and methods from those, I also make small adjustments based on experience.

I haven’t changed much of how I prepare and go through a hot weather run but I’ve been more mindful of what I do after. There are a couple of reasons.

One of my friends tracked his running heart rate through the calendar year. While I don’t have those numbers, the difference between the summer and winter months was substantial, and it showed numerically that the extra heat is stressful on us; it’s not just a few extra drops of sweat.

Following a 10K time trial on a hot day with one of my DCS teammates, I could tell that evening and the next morning that the heat plus the added speed had a bigger impact on me than other warm runs. Generally when I run in hot weather, I’m choosing my own pace and I’m not pushing too hard. For a time trial, I’m going at race pace and after that one, it definitely showed during recovery.

What I do immediately after a warm run is similar—a staggered cool down and gradual fluid intake. The difference now is that for the next day’s miles, instead of charging right back into the heat, I’ll go earlier in the morning when it’s cooler. This allows for more recovery time so I avoid excessive stress on my body. While I’m not pushing at race pace on most warm runs and it’s possible this new strategy isn’t necessary, it does allow me to maintain mileage in a more efficient way.

One other experience note. In prior posts, I mentioned that if I’m on an exposed course, I feel like it serves me better to cover my skin, as opposed to using short sleeves with sunscreen. On one 100 degree run, I wore compression sleeves. I got to a point where I was feeling exceptionally warm so I pushed the sleeves down to see if it would help. When the sun hit my arms, I felt even worse and the sleeves went back up. If staying covered, it’s important to take in plenty of fluids but it did offer better protection for me.

And, here are the links with additional anecdotes and experiences:

Summer running… – Untamed Runner

Warm times… – Untamed Runner

I mentioned in my last post that I took a planned week off of running while traveling to Italy. Within a couple of hours after we got back home, I went for a run. It felt terrible. I blamed it on having been up for most of 48 hours (travel quirks-long story) and figured a little rest would get me back moving. However, when I woke up the next morning, I had come down with some kind of bug and thus began a second straight week off of running.

The rule of thumb I’ve followed is that if you’re taking time off from training, you can hold fitness for 7-10 days. Following my 14 days off, I didn’t feel nearly as fast as I had been when we left for our travels.

So that I didn’t push myself back into being sick, when I was ready to start running again, while I wanted to jump right back in with the training miles I’d been doing this spring, I began mildly with 1.75 miles: .25 mile warm-up, 1 mile run, .25 all-out, .25 cool-down. The next day I went up to 4 miles at a slow pace, then 6 the following day. Part of what motivated me to push a little was that I had a 5K race on July 4th, Let Freedom Run, and I wanted to be as prepared as possible.

It takes at least a few months to properly get ready for a race and with the extra week off, I knew I wouldn’t be as fast as I had been in the spring. To get some sense of what might happen, I did a solo 2-mile time trial a week before the 4th. I planned to run the first mile in 6:30, then see what I had left. I ended up running the first one in 6:27 and the second in 6:10. I didn’t think this pointed to a sub-20 minute finish for the race, but I felt reasonably good about how I would run.

At the end of the 5K, my time reflected someone who had taken two weeks off and was slowly building back. Yet, I finished 5th overall and 1st in my age group. As a bit of consolation, even if I had been closer to the times I’d been posting this past spring (mid-19s), I probably wouldn’t have finished any higher as the top four were all in the mid-18s and faster.

The above workouts aren’t a prescription for coming back from a longer-than-planned rest. But, it showed me that starting slower and shorter can help ease me back in. Throwing in the time trial indicated what kind of speed shape I was in and kept my expectations within reason.

Speaking of races, the Dry Creek Striders posted solid results over the holiday weekend. Collin Knaub got the overall win at the Stars and Stripes 5K in Brighton and Joel Kaar ran Let Freedom Run with me and we went 1-2 in our age group. We’re hoping that our schedules will all align later this month so the entire team can do a race together.

On to more training, and hopefully getting back to faster times…

My family and I travelled for roughly the first two weeks of June. We began the trip with a week in Myrtle Beach, SC where I kept up my training miles, despising the humidity, loving the ample oxygen. From there, we drove to Charlotte, NC where my daughter and I caught a direct flight to Rome, Italy. This father-daughter trip had been in the making for several months and I’d decided early on that I wouldn’t log miles while we were there.

When you’re travelling on your own with a child, there are just too many variables that would mean big problems if she and I weren’t together. For example, maybe while I’m out for a short run, housekeeping shows up at our room, sees her alone, and is concerned, or the hotel fire alarm goes off. The scenario of a child alone in a hotel room in a country where we don’t speak the language and something like the aforementioned circumstances occurring is bad. So, I designated it as a week off and it turned out my legs were ready for a short rest. However, there were a few running notes that I picked up along the way.

We spent our time in Rome and Venice and I had assumed there would be people running in The Eternal City but not in the City of Canals. This turned out to be the opposite. Once we were there, it was easy to see why.

The traffic in Rome is on the verge of pedestrian-hostile and the sidewalks sometimes exist only by definition. In some cases, it’s a narrow strip of cobblestones that are slightly darker than the street. The streets in Venice are fairly empty of people in the early mornings and without any cars to worry about, it would be a pleasant place to run. There weren’t steady numbers of people running in Venice, but a few.

Among the sites that I hoped to see in Rome was the Circus Maximus, or the ancient chariot racing track. Though primarily known for the chariot races, it did hold some long-distance foot races.  In its prime, it was around 600M long and 140M wide along its axes. By comparison, a modern 400M running track would be around 150M long and 90M wide. The stands around the Maximus held anywhere from 150,000 to 250,000 people, which would put it among some of our modern world’s largest stadiums.

Most of it you can access for free. The bulk of the site is grass with a small dirt path on the perimeter. At one end of the track is a section that’s gated off and requires a ticket, which was well worth it. Some of the ancient structure stands there, along with several pieces of sculptures that have been found and saved.

Walking from the lower chambers of the facility through the old tunnel onto the grass and dirt area of the track, presumably as the ancient competitors would have, still sent a small spark of adrenaline through my veins. Though the original track is estimated to be 6M below the current ground surface (following its racing days it was eventually turned into an agricultural area), I ran around 50M along the path, just to say I’d done it. Were I to go back to Rome with my running shoes, I would plan to do several laps there one morning. It wouldn’t be in front of thousands of spectators or with the pageantry, but it’d be fun.

Now back in Colorado, and working my way back into training…

Over the past several weeks, I’ve included speed work in my running schedule. During my formative running years, the total distance in my speed workouts would be around 4,000M. It might be 10X400M or 20X200M. These days, I’ve been topping out my total at 3,200M and I’ve done either 4X800M or 2X1600M. I go with a little less total distance because I’m 43 and I don’t know the impact of adding on more intense training. If I knew I was likely to hit a new PR in a distance, I might go with more but I’m far off of my all-time bests so I’ll err on the side of preserving my running longevity.

Every one of my last three speed workouts has been a dud. One was due to wind. I was doing 4X800M and while I got the first two in under 3:00, they were slightly downhill with the wind at my back. The next two were in the opposite direction and were definitely not under 3:00 each.

The next workout was 2X1600M with a goal of 5:59 per 1600M. I’ve not done a running food review in a while but I can assure you that breaded fried fish fillets and tater tots are not good pre-run food. I wouldn’t have assumed they were, but I also figured I could grind through a speed workout. Nope. My first 1600M was 6:10 and it got worse from there.

For the next workout I attempted 2X1600M again. I went mid-morning and well after my breakfast of plain oatmeal and a banana. There was no wind and I figured hitting 5:59/1600M was reasonable. For the first one, I cruised through in 5:55. The next one was terrible. I was mulling over the reason and remembered that two days before, I’d done a six-mile run where I ran the last three miles fairly hard, with the final mile at under 5K race pace. Most likely I was carrying some leg fatigue with me from that run.

Were my disappointing times all due to external factors, or do I need to tweak what I’m doing? I’m leaning towards external factors though whether I try one of the same workouts next time, as opposed to 3X1000M, is still up for debate.

The broader point with this post is that it’s important to evaluate whether you need to keep trying at something, or reconfigure. Several years ago, I was doing speed workouts that focused on very short distances, such as 200M and 400M. These had worked in the past so I figured they would again. However, my times were only changing marginally. I switched to a strategy of doing primarily threshold work (running three or six miles all-out). I had also done this in the past with good results and I figured it would work again. My times did get faster so I stuck with it.

I’ve been including more true speed work (4X800M) because that also worked over the past year, in addition to threshold runs. It’s partly why I still think external factors are what affected my times before, and why I’m not quite ready to make a switch.

In many ways, running and training are going to be similar among athletes. Professional 5K/10K runners may log 80-100 miles per week but there will likely be subtle differences among them. Plans will be tailored and adjusted to accentuate strengths and shore up weaknesses. We also can be in an ongoing state of evaluation and experimentation to see what works best to keep us moving forward as fast as possible.

At the 1996 Summer Olympics, Michael Johnson wore solid gold-colored spikes. These were the coolest race shoes I’d ever seen and they still rank at or near the top for me in that category. He won gold medals in the 200M and 400M at those games. Does what you wear or do for style matter for a race or training run, for you or for your impression on the competition?

Way back in my high school days, one of my teammates remarked that if a runner from a different team did something out-of-the-mainstream with their hair (dye it an unnatural color, have a man-bun before those were popular, etc.) he felt they were probably fast. This was an illogical thought that also made sense. I didn’t gather any data around it but when I ran the Columbus Marathon several years later, I bleached my hair to near-platinum ahead of time and showed up feeling confident I would crush it. A couple of years after that, I ran the Cleveland Marathon. In the interest of gearing up for the event (pun intended) I bought a new, flashy, bright orange racing singlet. It seemed like a good mental edge.

Even for training runs, I may pick faster-looking gear depending on what I’m doing. If it’s a four-mile run at 5:30 in the morning, I know my pace will be slow and it’s maintenance miles so I’ll toss on something plain and just get the run finished. For a speed workout or longer run where I’m pushing the pace, I’ll definitely get something on that looks sleek.

How much does having flashy clothes and shoes (or dyed hair) help? In my last post I mentioned that in 2019 I’d run an 18:42 5K at sea level and in 2020, I’d run 18:56 at elevation. Realistically the run at elevation is more difficult so the 18:56 is “faster.” For the 18:42, I was in a drab pair of gray trainers with a regular green shirt. For the 18:56, I had on menacing-looking racing flats and also used neon yellow sleeves and shorts. In the Columbus Marathon I referenced above, I fell apart at mile 19 and barely held on until mile 26.2. In Cleveland, I ran a negative split (the second half being faster than the first half) and thus finished the race feeling strong.

Do the clothes and style matter? They obviously don’t directly make you faster, and I’ve had excellent races and training runs where I was wearing something plain. But, they can make you more excited to toe the line, and that’s worth something. In the meantime, I keep my eyes out for a pair of solid gold-colored spikes…

The Untamed Runner celebrates a fourth birthday this year. Four years isn’t very long-one Olympic cycle-but a fair number of notable things have occurred.

I managed to finally get back under 19:00 for a 5K (18:42 in an official race in 2019 and 18:56 on a track in 2020) and I ran a marathon where I had a stark reminder of “the wall” at mile twenty. For the first time in many years, I toed the lines of races as a member of a team, first with Runners Roost and now with the Dry Creek Striders. I expanded the number of states I’ve run in and found some that served strictly to expand my list and others that I hope to go back to, such as Highway 373 near Amargosa Valley, NV.

Given that in-person racing was nearly non-existent for 2020 and some of 2021, I did a bunch of time trials. This allowed me to connect with friends and we were able to do different distances that are not common among standard road races. In some cases, we had two-for-one. We did a 3200M on a track but we marked 16M past the finish so we could stretch it out and also record our full two-mile time. We also did a downhill mile race which was preceded by an uphill mile race (or slog). I think for the latter that was our first and last attempt. While I’m not sure I can quantify how these less common distances impacted my racing and training, they posed different kinds of challenges and were fun, which is what running should be.

This blog has been a fun way to relay information and news about running. I appreciate your reading it and look forward to writing more content. The topics will likely be varied and the next one will be on the possible impact of flashy gear. Stay tuned…

One challenging aspect of local races is that while you know the distance and (hopefully) have a reasonably good sense of your ability, the competition around you may be unknown. If you race consistently in an area, it’s likely you’ll start to see familiar faces and know their respective times. Even then, it may not be a given. For example, one runner I know posted a 20-something 5K when we were in the same race a couple of years ago. All of a sudden, he’s now running down in the 18s.

Because of the unknowns of the competition around you, it can also be difficult to know how to race against folks. Are they someone who starts fast, then fades? Do they maintain an even pace? Do they have a solid final kick over the last 1000M or are they more of a runner who sprints the last 200M?

All of that being said, there are certain tactical rules that apply. Assuming you’re running within your time abilities, if there’s someone nearby, then it’s safe to assume you should be smart tactically. In a 5K several years ago, there was a pack of three of us through the whole race, all vying for third place (numbers one and two were too far ahead). I know that I don’t have exceptional sprint speed so if I’m near some other folks in the latter stages of a race and want to make sure I put myself in a good position to finish ahead of them, I may start pushing further out from the finish. In this race, I started my kick with about 1200M to go. It would either work, or the other two would hang with me and outsprint me. Fortunately for me, they weren’t able to hang and I ended up in third.

However, it’s also possible to have tactical missteps, even if you think you’re making a solid decision. In the CMRA Clear Creek 5K race a few weeks ago, after the initial squall of runners at the start, we all settled into our spots. I was in third; fourth was right on my shoulder and he stayed there. (To his credit, when we got to a turn that wasn’t well-marked, he affirmed my decision to go left, the correct direction, when he could have bought himself a few extra seconds by allowing me to go off course.)

Now, generally you don’t want to be the person leading in a situation like this. It takes more energy, especially mentally. Even knowing this, I persisted. Why did I think the rules didn’t apply to me? I was feeling really good, even though my pace was a little faster than planned. Also, I didn’t know this runner on my shoulder. It was possible he was using me as a pacer and was also above his planned speed. Yet, the way he was hanging on made me suspect otherwise and at 1200M to go, my suspicions were confirmed and he threw in a good surge.

We were running along a creek and in the upstream direction. This meant that we were on a very gradual climb and combined with the fact I’d pushed myself beyond my pace, I didn’t have enough in the tank to make a push to reel him back in.

Whether the actual mistake was pushing too hard at the beginning or not dropping back a bit to let him take the lead is hard to say. Even if I had held back a little earlier, I’m not sure I would have caught him. Still, it was a good reminder that even though there are cases where rules can be ignored, they also exist for a reason.

Two of us on the Dry Creek Striders, Collin Knaub and I, ran this race. He won in 17:09 and I got fourth in 19:22. We went to another race last weekend, the 5K In My Shoes, in Evans, Colorado. This one wasn’t timed and there were no awards but if someone was counting, we got first (Collin in 17:10) and I cruised into second place in 19:30. The next DCS race is on 7 May (no firm list of participants yet) and then we’ll do a 10K time trial on 18 May.