The Meteorlogical Illogic

Hail my running brothers and sisters!  I was going to avoid posting again before the race, but I may as well mention this since this all we’re talking about today.  Apparently “they” are predicting rain, thunderstorms, and possibly tornadoes tomorrow.  The crazy part of this whole pain in the ass prediction is that the weather has been gorgeous all frakkin' week.  Figures, huh?  My current plan:  When I hear the thunder, count the seconds until I see the lightening, and if I don’t make it past a 3-count, run like Chuck Norris chasing me.  Nice plan, huh?  Later kids.  Wish me luck!

The Taper Madness Protocol

Hail my running brothers and sisters!  As I sit here and massage my calves, I personally blame Psyche for my current state of being.  If you’re reading this blog, you know that in 2 weeks I’m running the Country Music Marathon here in my hometown of Nashville (Yeehaw!).  As I have 2 weeks left, I am in the throes of taper madness!  Since I’ve started racing, I have been aware of the anxiety that I haven’t trained enough, the anticipation of busting out an awesome new PR, the fear of falling short of goal, and the exultation of visualizing racing among throngs of cheering crowds that comes with those last couple of weeks prior to your big race.  For the uninitiated, we call those last few weeks of reduced workouts to save your legs for the big race tapering.  The wild mood swings of dread and excitement, we would call the “jitters” down here.  However, Psyche gave my jitters a name that I had not heard before, Taper Madness.  And in naming, she gave those feelings bubbling through my head power.  Power over me.  Power that I cannot escape.  Power that forces me to acknowledge it at every waking moment.  Power, that if left unhindered, would surely TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!

At these times of vulnerability and weakness, I do what any obsessed runner does, I hit books!  Or in this case, the internet.  I review my online training log and feverishly copy down my past training times before my last races, so that I can statistically analyze the correlation of my training paces to game day performances.  I scour other running blogs and websites to gleam the secrets of speed and nuggets of knowledge to raise my endurance.  I ponder my diet and curse the 10-second-costing pound I gained from that harmless looking slider at lunch (hmmm…sliders…*slobber*).  I seek out new gadgets, gear, tools, and accessories on every Chinese website that delivers overnight for the Holy Grail of racing that I can ingest, strap on, or doff that will create a magic bubble around me reducing wind resistance and pushing competitors unceremoniously out of my way.  Then I pester anyone with any running experience with reviews of my training to draw out cheap praise for my hard work and assurances that I will, indeed, catch that damn BQ tiger by the tail this time and make him my beyotch.  I bribe my children to pray to the Good Lord to bless me with speed as I’m not allowed to do so (I’m pretty sure that I sold my soul when I signed my admission papers to law school.  If not, I’m sure I traded most of it for my last PR.).  I even invoke the name of Chuck Norris to amuse and distract myself as I blog mindlessly about how I love to race.  What would make an otherwise rational (don’t listen to my wife…if she truly thought I was crazy, she wouldn’t have procreated with me) man adult mature person to act in such a way?  Taper Madness.  CURSES!!!

Now for the hard numbers:  The track was closed so that the track team could get their practice in.  Inconsiderate bastiches.  Can’t they see that I am a man in need?  Anyway, I went to the park and my main workout was 10x.5 mi intervals with .25 mi recovery runs.  They broke down:  03:25.5, 03:26.8, 03:35.4, 03:46.2, 03:32.1, 03:28.6, 03:33.8, 03:27.2, 03:23.7, and 03:30.3.  This was an average pace of 3:31.0/mi.  This was 12 seconds better than I did last week.  A definite improvement, but still not quite where I was hoping to be.  I definitely felt stronger/better today, but I was reasonably rested and the heat was not nearly as bad as last week. Okay time for me to organize my training log by training type.  :P Later kids!

The Chuck Norris Paradigm

Hail my running brothers and sisters!  If Chuck Norris were a calendar, every month would be named Chucktober, and every day he’d kick your ass! I don’t care who you are…that’s funny!

Still it got me thinking (WARNING:  This is where the Taper Madness has set in, and I start spouting off.  If you are a Penguin, a small child, or Chuck Norris, I apologize (Mr. Norris, please don’t roundhouse kick me)), I can’t just run a race for the fun of it.  Like Chuck Norris, if you see me on race day, I’m there to kick your ass.  That is to say that I’m there to RACE.  Now I may not be racing against you in particular (because like Chuck Norris, you may end up kicking MY ass..a lot), but I am there to gut out a race.  I may not feel great, I may not be in my top form, but I’m not there to run it for fun.  A few months ago, my lovely wife and I were talking about some of the races that I was planning on running this year.  When I suggested that I might run a few smaller races for fun and to train for my bigger ones, she squelched that idea so fast I thought Chuck Norris had kicked me (clearly he didn’t as I’m not dead).  She told me in no uncertain terms that it’s impossible for me to run my races for fun as they post the results online and my ego would not stand for a less-than-Joel finish.

I’ve been rolling this thought around my head for awhile now, trying to decide if it was accurate, and like Chuck Norris’ beard, it’s inescapable.  She is absolutely correct.  As usual.  For me, a race defines who I am as a person and a runner.  When I race, I want to know that I gave everything I got…to be faster, stronger, and gutsier I was in my last race.  Unlike Chuck Norris, I have something to prove.  I need to prove that I’m not that bacon-loving-pie-eating asshat I was 2 years ago.  Nope, today I’m a lean, strong, fast jackhole on a mission to BQ.  Otherwise, why have I trained so hard for the last 2 years?  If I’m not willing to lay it all  out to win (i.e. reach whatever ridiculous goal that I’ve set this time), then I needn’t spend the $30-$100 to run the race.  After all, I don’t need to run a race to get a shirt or chew on stale bagels.  I’ve got plenty of money to buy as many shirts as I need, and plenty of month old bagels sitting in my pantry anytime I want one.  Nope, when I go to race, I’m running fast, like a man dodging a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick (which, by the way, is impossible).

Now I’m not suggesting that I have to win.  Not at all.  I just want to be faster than I was the last time that I raced.  And faster than that small kid with the ridiculously long stride (shouldn’t 12 year olds be at home watching cartoons or doing homework instead of trying to muscle past me in the chute).  Oh, and faster than that women pushing her stroller or running with her dog (C’mon guys, that’s just plain dangerous!).  And definitely faster than that frakkin’ guy in the tutu (I hate that guy).  Everybody comes to a race for different reasons.  Lots of people go to races to motivate them in their new healthy lifestyle (Waddle on my brothers!), and I give them full props for just getting out there and doing something.  But some people go to races to prove they’ve got the guts, skill and luck to win.  That’s me.  And Chuck Norris.

And now for the hard numbers:  I did 8.03 miles at an average pace of 8:07/mi.  It was a good, fast run along part of the marathon course.  Unlike a Chuck Norris punch to the face, it was not a perfect run, but it was still darn good.  Later kids!