Illinois Marathon: Origins

I've decided to register for the Illinois Marathon, if not run it. Let me back up.

I originally wanted to run the Boston Marathon, but it was sold out within less than 24 hours. Then I wanted to run the Big Sur Marathon, but that was sold out too. The Flying Pig Marathon is kind of a disaster, so that's out. There is a Grandma's Marathon in Minnesota. So that really left me in a bind.

My sister, who lives in Champaign, IL, previously asked me if I would like to run the Illinois Marathon and I declined since southern Illinois isn't all that exciting. I reconsidered since my options were limited and I have few opportunities to see her. So I'll just be bored for two hours, fifty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds. No big deal.

Actually, I registered in secret. I'm not sure if I really want to run this, or I just want something to do. I like running, but the whole training thing is a tedious practice. I'd like to devote more time to finding a new job, but I worry that the lack of exercise will lead me to feel unmotivated. So... I will continue to practice for another month where I can still sort of half-ass it, and then decide later.

Thinking vs. Doing (and/or)

Can you think your way out of depression? Does enough self knowledge lead to a realization that cures you of whatever it is that you just can't overcome?

In a recent New York Times article Dr. Richard A. Friedman discusses the limitations of insight in psychiatric therapy. His position is that an insight-oriented psychodynamic therapy may not actually "cure" the patient so much as the cognitive behavioral approach, which helps to reroute the channels in our brains to a more effective way of dealing with problems.

There was a portion of a book I was reading a little while ago called Buddhism: Plain and Simple by Steven Hagen. In it he describes a fable about a man who gets shot by a poison arrow. He calls a doctor to get it out and the doctor deliberates and wonders what kind of arrow is it? What kind of poison is on the arrow? Etc. What the man really needs, however, is for the doctor to yank that arrow out of his back before he dies. The lesson is that perhaps it doesn't matter what it is that's killing you, you just need to do what you need to do in order to survive. I guess you could argue that you need to know what kind of poison is needed for an antidote, but you get the point.

I've often felt as though thinking about my problems doesn't really do anything. I know what makes me depressed and I do think that helps because I'm more aware of any triggers and then I can figure out how to deal with myself. But I think Dr. Friedman's point is that all the self knowledge in the world might keep you from being depressed, but won't really make you happy. And don't we all just want to be happy?

Strength

From an article in the New York Times today comes information from several studies that seem to confirm that lifting weights is just as beneficial to cognitive development as cardiovascular exercise. As with running, strength training increases blood flow to the brain, which in turn improves cognitive functions as well as neurogenesis.

This bothers me for several reasons. The first reason is that I want to engage in the activity that's giving me the best twofer. This news that guys who look like one of the werewolves from Twilight shouldn't be allowed to be smart too. It's just unfair. The second reason this news bothers me is because I really despise lifting weights. I find it the most tedious, boring task ever. It's a very Sisyphean way to spend ones time. By contrast, running is spiritual. You get to run outside, discover new places. You can run with people, next to people, behind or in front of others.

The second reason is that I just don't want weight lifters to be on par to runners, and for that reason I refuse to believe in science for this one. Global warming, I believe the science. Meatheads and No Necks are just as good as runners, is just heresy.



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Peak Performance

Do you ever wonder what your potential is in running a marathon? According to Ben Rapoport, it can be figured out according to how well you use carbohydrates to turn into energy. In the article Avoid the Bonk, Raporort discusses how V02 Max, heart rate and other factors contribute to his mathmatical equation.

According to him, we can also now know exactly how many calories to eat while carbo loading to avoid hitting the wall because the runner is "essentially running out of carbohydrates in the leg muscles and in the liver. So when you bring the carbohydrate fuel tank to empty, the body is forced then to metabolize fat rather than carbohydrates." So this guy Rapoport figures out how efficiently you store carbohydrates and how fast you can run. I don't know if it's true, but I'm somewhat interested. I at least want to get my V02 Max tested.

Detroit Marathon: The Race

During the Detroit Freepress Marathon, I wanted to break three hours (roughly 6:51 pace). This has been my goal for two other marathons: ING New York City and Flying Pig in Cincinnati, OH. I came close in NYC (3:03), but failed miserably in Cincinnati (3:10). Third time is the charm?

Miles 1-13

The marathon can be broken down into several parts. The first part was the run leading up to the Bridge to Canada. It’s basically the part of Detroit that I’m scared to be in after dark. I think one time I got lost there when I tricked picking up my parents from the airport. Kids were riding their bicycles toward traffic at night. I was terrified! I also stopped off to use a port-o-potty because I was running late getting to the starting line. I think that little detour cost me around 30 seconds.

The bridge to Canada was a little worse/steeper than I expected. I think they closed off a single lane (that was, from what I’m told, difficult to navigate as the crowd became thicker). It was a little difficult to get out of the disabled participants’ way at times. It was a great feeling to look out over the water and see the sunrise from a bridge that I normally wouldn’t be able to run. The Canadian security guards were friendly in checking our bibs and greeting us. There were decidedly less Canadian crowd support, and it was a little quiet if uninteresting part of the marathon. In Canada I met my nemesis, the tutu wearing man. The crowd went NUTS for this guy as if they had never seen a boorish semi-transvestite before, and I decided that I needed to pass him because he was stealing my thunder.

The tunnel back to Detroit was interesting to run in if only because it is one of the only marathons where you can run underneath water for an extended period of time. I felt at times that the white tiled tunnel was expanding as I ran though it like I was part of an uninteresting Twilight Zone episode. In terms of elevation, it was like running on an upside down bridge: downhill first, uphill last. After that incline, there wouldn’t be another significant rise in elevation for the rest of the race.

Arriving back in the United States was a little disquieting because US border control meant BUSINESS. They were very, very serious. I suppose it’s their job, but honestly who is going to sneak into a marathon to cross the border from Canada? This isn’t a Mentos commercial. We ran around Cobo Hall, much like the Turkey Trot and then through downtown and got to see the beautiful buildings that no one inhabit anymore. My parents were in the crowd in the downtown area. My mom made a sign that read, “Robert/ Vite/ Va/ Vitesse” which doesn’t really mean anything in French, but it was nice and gave me something to ponder.

The highlight of Mexican town was a three piece mariachi band! I wish I could’ve stopped and listened to them for longer. Then we ran by this Oxichmilco that I ate in one time and it was delicious. There are some really lovely houses in Detroit... I wonder if they are targeted by gangs.

We looped back through the city where my friend, Dave, was cheering. He was planning to run with Craig for the second half of the marathon. I think I crossed the halfway mark (13.1 miles) with a time of 1:30:55, which is nearly a minute off my mark and five seconds per mile slower than where I needed to be.

Miles 13 -26.2

I don’t know what happened for the next few miles, but I felt GOOD. For the first time I thought that I could really break three hours. There wasn’t many people around, and I started to really pick up the pace. I heard a woman call to a nearby biker when the roads would open. I wanted to tell her, “Never,” but I conserved my strength. Within the next four or five miles, I was all caught up to where I needed to be and I was actually was running a deficit. I was in good shape. Then in Indian Village at around mile 18, where the houses are stunning, I crapped out a little. I was about to start walking for a spell, then I snapped out of it. I kept going. I also really felt the urge to go to the bathroom, but I held it in and eventually it went away.

After Indian Village there is a long expanse of road that leads to Belle Isle. There are a lot of fast food and strip malls before you get there. Stimulating! There was a nice little bridge leading into Belle Isle, where I had never been before. It’s really beautiful there because it’s almost all parks. There is a large arboretum that looks like it could use a serious washing. By the time I hit mile 21, I ran out of gas. I could feel myself slowing down, despite willing my legs to move. I don’t think I necessarily hit the wall, but there was a definite point where I just pooped out.

I stopped for a minute, and it felt like I was having an out of body experience. I walked for maybe 20 seconds and tried to run for a mile. I kept on that pattern – run for one mile, walk 20 seconds – for the rest of the marathon. I was a bit disappointed, but more than that, I was tired. Could I have held on physically? Maybe, but it would’ve taken a willful act of God to sustain it. I didn’t have to walk, but I thought it was a winning tactic that turned out not to be so great. I think once I stop, it’s a sign of the beginning of the end. I kept running, each time thinking I could pick up the pace, but I could not.

The run finished where it started, but 3 hours, 1 minute, and 45 seconds later. I was happy for it to be over. My legs felt like they were hobbled by Kathy Bates from Misery. I was pleased with my finishing time, but not satisfied. There will always be another race... Fourth time is the charm?

Addendum: The post race festivities weren’t as I expected. Instead of playing any of the music from Detroit’s long music history, they played this really weird techno. I know, I know. Detroit is credited with the birth of techno, but it was really awful and not a crowd pleaser at all. Work on it, Detroit Freepress Marathon.

Detroit Marathon: A Prelude

This past weekend I traveled to Michigan to participate in the Detroit Marathon. My parents picked me up from the airport thirty minutes late from the airport because my mom dumped Coke on my dad’s lap (he had it coming) and they had to stop. Due to their marital shenanigans, I arrived with five minutes before the Expo closed.

I rushed through the snaking merchandise booths until I reached the back where the packet pickup was located. I handed them my passport and they gave me my packet and goodie bag. I still wanted to get another shirt, so I went to the New Balance booth, who sponsored the event, and purchased a t-shirt that looked like this:

Saturday came and went. I tried to stay off my feet and not walk too much. I also didn’t want my legs to atrophy either, so I took some short walks and a 2 mile slow jog. That day I specifically requested that my mom not make anything with onions because I didn’t want to ride the fart train to the finish, and neither did I eat meat because I didn’t want to vomit. Meat makes runners vomit the day before. Or so I’ve heard.

I had a few stress dreams before the Marathon. The one I specifically remember concerned not being able to find my parents to take me to the finish line. Midway through the dream I realized that it was only a dream, and that I should wake up. I think I slept a total of five hours that night. Luckily I slept for ten the night before.

We left the house at 5:15AM, which meant that I had to wake up at 4:30 in order to get ready. That is an ungodly hour to do anything, no matter what. I do always get a rush of adrenaline that doesn’t go away, which helped me make it through the morning routine. I laid everything out the night before which serves the double purpose of calming my nerves and cutting down on preparation time the day of the race.

We picked up my friend, Craig, and drove to the Westin Book Cadillac where his friends had a room that we could chill out. It was nice having a space where we didn’t have to stand or huddle, and the bathrooms were immaculate. I tried to eat a bagel, but I really couldn’t finish the whole thing. I already had some fruit in the car. Maybe I needed some slow release carbs during the race that I didn’t get pre-run. More on that later.

The only complaint that I would have in terms of logistics is that the bag drop off should be a place where you can drop off your bag, not wait twenty minutes in line. That was a little ridiculous. I appreciate all the volunteers, but twenty minutes before the race! The port-o-potty line wasn’t even that long. I ended up just leaving it by the entrance since I was in the first corral, and hoped that my stuff would be there when I got back. Spoiler alert: it did.

I lied. The other complaint was that it was very hard to get to the corral due to the amount spectators at the start. I had to literally run around the block just to get to the start, and I didn’t really want to run more than I had to that day.

The “Lose It” song by Eminem was playing because it is ubiquitous in the Dirty. The weather was perfect, I was feeling good, and the race began!

Mind of a Champion

Wouldn’t we all like to be number one? Not everyone has it in them, whether it be because their bodies can handle the amount of stress that a race involves and also maybe they don’t have the amount of mental toughness In her article, How to Push Past the Pain, as the Champions Do, Gina Kolata describes the different methods that elite athletes employ in order to get to the finish line the quickest.

One of the aspects that first struck me about this article was from Mary Wittenberg, president and chief executive of the New York Road Runners, who stated that, “Mental Tenacity – and the ability to manage and even thrive on and push through pain – is a key segregator [...] in running.” This sentiment was echoed by sport medicine physician Dr. Jeroen Swart, “It never gets any easier. You hurt just as much.”

Some days I know that I’m going to have a good workout and can therefore push myself. I think of myself as a very mental runner. I have some physical ability, but much of it comes from dedication and not from mental intensity. Do I just want it to get easier or go away?

I’ve also tried to make it go away by just pretending that I’m anywhere else but running. According to the article, this disassociation isn’t practiced by those who are at the top:

In studies of college runners, he found that less accomplished athletes tended to dissociate, to think of something other than their running to distract themselves.

“Sometimes dissociation allows runners to speed up, because they are not attending to their pain and effort,” he said. “But what often happens is they hit a sort of physiological wall that forces them to slow down, so they end up racing inefficiently in a sort of oscillating pace.” But association, Dr. Raglin says, is difficult, which may be why most don’t do it.

This most recent race I embraced the fact that I was there, and I was running it when I felt like I was starting to fade. It actually helped me for a while. I wonder what would have happened if I would’ve used that throughout.