Marathoning [equals] Morning Person

If there is one life habit that marathon training changed,  is it's made me a morning person.

A grateful morning person.

I remember my Mom trying to make me a morning person in my teens. I would fight her on it. Why would I want to get up that early when I could sleep? She would tell me that I might be pleasantly surprised in becoming a morning person. Those who rise early can get their to-do list done and still have a day ahead of them.

Well Mom, you were right.

However, like most children, I had to learn that lesson for myself.

I couldn't learn it just through graduating college and entering the workforce.  

Or by how I almost always opt to buy the first flight of the morning when I travel.

Oh no, I had to learn this in a 20-week commitment - marathon training.

If I remember correctly, I fought the morning runs for as long as I could. I signed up for the latest (6:30am) Saturday long run group. I ran my midweek runs after work. 

But that summer of 2008 was a hot one. 

If there's something my body liked less than getting up early, it was humidity and heat. 

I slowly eased into early morning runs like one starts training. First, to try out a short three mile run. It's only three miles. A mere 30 minutes of time. 

From there, out of necessity and seeing the benefits of (to avoid being cheesy, but) starting out on the right foot, I continued with morning mid-week training runs for years.

Certain race days or weekend long runs called for an earlier than 5am alarm. I think that's when it really hit home how much running was changing my sleeping habits. I was up and running some mornings before the sun rose. Or, on one occasion, Jeff, Jen, Sara, Kim and I were heading to run Fort2Base (a 12 Nautical Mile run from Fort Sheridan to Great Lakes Naval Station) while people were leaving the bars in Wrigleyville.  

If there's one thing that's been truly strange about this past summer, it's that I didn't wake up before the sun rose to run. It was weird to sleep in past 6am during the week. I felt like I accomplished less last summer. That I missed out on weeks of mornings with a beautiful sunrise.

As I ease back into a running regimen (and while the city's sidewalks melt), I find myself looking forward to those spring and summer mornings.  

An Early Morning Run [Inspired by Social Media]

Training changes a normal person into a strange, somewhat complusive, maniac.

Regardless of social engagements, vacations or weather conditions - long runs must happen.

Somehow, somewhere, your few mile jog after work went away, and you welcomed long runs into your life. Long runs are big time commitments. They are a multi-front (and not to mention a well coordinated) effort.

In the time some of your friends watch their favorite movie (or find themselves pulled into the magnetic force of a four-hour replay of Shawshank Redemption on TNT - admit it, it's happened to all of us), you're doing one thing - running.

But you're not dreading it. You're planning it. 'Cause this sh-t's gonna happen.

Camille is my cousin. She is training for her second Chicago Marathon. And nothing - I mean nothing - is standing in her way. She recently posted this on Facebook, to which a few of her runner friends and myself replied.

To us, this is completely normal (and I'll admit it - I miss it):

15 Things You Should Know Before Dating a Marathoner

In the age of Buzzfeed and other like sites, there seems to be a survey or list for just about everything.

It seems fitting then that the Rock and Roll Marathon would put together a list of "Things You Should Know Before Dating a Marathoner."

The list is a good start, but I figured there's a few that deserve revising. I've added my comments in blue. What comments would you add?

1. Check your foot fetish at the door. Feet don’t look pretty after running 50+ km per week. (about 30 miles)  Not all feet are the same. Though we do talk about feet issues a lot (blisters, arch pain, toenails...) 
2. Back, leg and feet massages are expected at least twice a week to relieve tired, sore, and aching muscles.  I wouldn't turn one down, but asking for massages 2x a week seems a bit high maintenance when training lasts 18-20 weeks. Plus, I have a great massage therapist. 
3. Expect long naps on Sunday afternoons. Or for those who choose to get their long runs over on Saturday, Saturday afternoons.  
4. Don’t be surprised when you get a hot, sweaty, salty hugs and kisses. Probably not. 
5. Late nights and sleeping in on weekends doesn’t happen; getting up early on weekends to run is more important. Training doesn't have to ruin a fun night out - Long run Saturday morning, followed by a nap and a night out. 
6. There’s no such thing as a diet and eating carbs is a good thing. Eat just about everything in sight.
7. You’ll be expected to be at every race, holding signs and taking pictures along the race route and be at the finish line with warm clothes in hand. Gear check can hold my change of clothes. Spectating and signs are great for the marathon. Other races, not necessary.
8. Gift giving is easy – pedicures, running shorts, running shoes, massages, or even a foam roller will all impress. I already have one foam roller. More than enough.
9. You’ll be constantly asked to go for a run, even if you don’t run I might talk about running a lot, but I'm not going to force you do it.

10. There are some disgusting things that happen that aren’t always talked about. Toliet stories. Enough said.

11. Proposing at 32k (the wall aka almost 20 miles) during a marathon race could be the most romantic thing that could ever happen. (hint hint) To each their own. 

12. Pretend and show interest in topics that you know nothing about they can they talk about for hours, like running gels, hill training, or how great running on a cool morning with light rain on race day is. You may not know a lot now, but you'll learn more than you ever wanted to know. 

13. There will be a box or drawer full of race bibs, medals, maps and other miscellaneous race souvenirs. Well, yeah. Where else are you going to put them?

14. Sunday brunch will always happen after a long run. A brunch conversation helps get us through the Saturday morning long run. It's important to execute that discussion post run.

15. There is always a pile of spandex and technical shirts needing to be laundered. Spandex? What is this, 1991?

Find the link here

Legacy Finishers

Yesterday morning, the Chicago Marathon made an announcement. They laid out the rules and timeline for what will be the first official year of a lottery system. Lotteries are not uncommon in marathoning, especially for other World Marathon Majors like New York and London. The Majors consists of six races (Boston, Berlin, Chicago, London, New York and Toyko) which are arguably some of the best and most sought after races in the world.

After last year's registration site hiccup (as in, so many people were trying to get into the race on opening day that it crashed active.com's servers), rumors have swirled that 2014 would be Chicago's first true lottery.

I was lucky enough to get in to both Chicago and Marine Corps during their registration debacles last year. Some of my friends and family members were able to get in at a later date as registration reopened or they decided to fundraise for a charity to gain entry.

This year, I've been waiting as so many others have to hear the news. What would the guidelines be? Yesterday morning I received a text from Sara telling me about the Legacy Finisher option. I'd never heard of such a thing. What does that mean? I searched for the term on my iPhone read this:

 

After months of dodging thoughts about my 2014 racing plan, today a door may have opened. Based on the prerequisites, I'll qualify as a Legacy Finisher. Which begs to answer the question, "How could I not run Chicago this year?" I'm happy to finally be thinking about racing again. I've taken a long break from any type of formal training program and a short hiatus from much running at all. With the winter rearing it's ugly head, I've been quite content not running.

Yesterday's news made me think of sunshine, shorts and early morning training runs along the lakefront. Of my mile trek down Sheridan where I wave to my neighbor Glen and constantly update my Playlists to get me through the hours of training each week. Of post long run trips to McDonald's for that damn fountain Coke. Of the friends I've made training and the places we've traveled in the name of racing. It reminded me of my summertime routine for the last 6 years.
Did I honestly think I wasn't going to run a marathon this year? Until yesterday, I might have said yes.

November: What a Difference a Month Makes

In an evening, October changed to November. Along with it went my desire to run.

How can someone spend so much time running and then shut it down in a matter weeks? 

When I had this feeling last fall, I decided it was a sign (and time) for a break.

I read up on taking a break from running. Runner's World and other sources recommended it in varying lengths. It seemed like the thing to do, well, or at least try.

Before I could even experiment with a lot less running, I needed to find an activity that could fill my workouts (because in the back of my mind, I was on the path of a Marathon to Couch Program)

So I rode my bike on the bike trainer and got back into a routine with yoga. Some people would say the cross training is enough to do for a period of time. Months even.

But I couldn't let it go completely. I kept with a weekend long run and tried to do a mid-week run to keep with some type of schedule.

This year and very quickly after Marine Corps, the weather changed to winter in Chicago. A few years ago I would have told you the cold weather didn't stop me from getting outside. But I'm singing a different tune this year. I've been getting over to The Lab about twice a week this month. A nice change of pace from running and truthfully some of most challenging workouts I've done in some time.

Last Wednesday was November 27th. A month since the Marine Corps Marathon. Since the marathon, I've run three times. Each effort was a poor existence of a run. Runs in which I wanted them to be over soon after the start. I could blame it on a lot of things, but I think an off season training plan of little running is in order. At least in the short term.

Two weekends ago I headed downtown for a yoga arm balance and inversion seminar. As if I can't find enough injury in running, I'm now finding fascination in poses that cause bruising and falling. I saw a few runners as I drove out to the studio. Normally, I would see a person running and think how I'd like to be running, especially if I hadn't yet that day. But on that day, I was happy to not be running. I really didn't have any desire to. I was more interested in checking out this yoga seminar for the afternoon.

So I'll take that as a sign. We'll see what happens with this not running (or not running very much) thing. It could be good. Maybe the not running thing will allow me to grow in yoga. 

[Sorta] Being Bob [Vila]

Somewhere in between tapering for Chicago and leaving for Marine Corps, an unfortunate situation appeared in my kitchen. The light had stopped working.

I heard a crackling noise when I flipped the switch and had a sense as to what it was. Dave volunteered to fix it.

As weeks went by, not having a light in the kitchen was driving me crazy. The more time that passed, the more I read up on how a bad switch being an electrical hazard. And, well, that's never good.

I watched a few youtube videos and decided I was going to fix it. 

The first weekend of November was a strange one for me. I had no long run scheduled. I woke up early and ran some errands. Errands that eventually brought me to Home Depot.

I love Home Depot. The smell of freshly cut lumber is by far my favorite smell. It reminds me of my childhood and my Dad's never-ending home improvement projects. He can destroy and then rebuild anything (though sometimes to my Mom's dismay).

We watched a good amount of This Old House with Bob Vila back then. Bob reminded me of my Dad - the flannel and jeans, tool belt, boots, mustache/beard combo. Bob worked on projects in New England where people had funny accents. A big change from the job sites in the Chicagoland area I imagine.

By the time I left for college, I'd helped with a variety of projects - painted few rooms, assisted with the construction of a gazebo, sealed a deck and laid tile in a bathroom. So I was no stranger to a Handy Andy or Builder's Square back in the day.  

But on this Saturday morning, I was at Home Depot alone. It's strange to go into a home improvement store without my Dad. He has the place memorized and knows exactly what to get. I on the other hand, wander the aisles looking for the short list I've created based on a few trusty youtube videos. Though I had hoped I'd get everything I needed in this trip, the rule of Home Depot is that you'll make two to three times the number of trips you'd originally thought to complete a project. 

I pick up a switch, electrical tape and wire tester, then head to the cashier. As I check out, I wonder - Have I bought the right switch? Will I end up electrocuting myself? How bad will it hurt? I pay the $9 bill and leave the store.

I head home and decide to tackle it right away. I re-watch the youtube video on my ipad and follow the steps. I take photos along the way. This way, if I screw something up and have to call in reinforcements, at least he'll know what I did. 

In less than ten minutes, I had replaced the switch and had a working kitchen light again.

Electricity is amazing.

The old switch pulled out from the wall.

The new switch before reattaching to the wall.

70 Miles To Go

Last Saturday, Jeff and I ran together in the last few miles of our 12 mile run.

This past weekend was the first weekend of our taper period before the Chicago Marathon.

We're enjoying the taper with some nerves as this will be first of two taper periods - We'll run the Marine Corps Marathon in DC two weeks after the Chicago Marathon.

We kept conversation going as we were both a bit sluggish and sore from a 20 mile run the weekend before.

One memorable conversation went like this -

Jeff: "From what I can figure, we only have about 70 miles to go."

Me: "70?"

Jeff: "Yeah, Chicago and Marine Corps are 52, 8 next weekend, 8 the weekend in between, then a four miler somewhere in there."

Me: "Sounds about right. The scary thing is we're doing this all in the next 28 days."

Jeff: "Yeah, but it's going to be fun."

Yes, Jeff. Yes it is.

The Morning After [the 20 miler]

Sunday was CARA's Ready to Run 20 miler.

It was around the 10th or so time I've done a 20 mile training run over the last six years.

The run went well overall. The weather was reasonably cool with periods of cloud cover. Jeff and I maintained pace with our group through 15, then slightly behind them through the finish. All and all, it's a 20 miler I'll call a success. If it was a race, we might say I PR'd the 20 miler.

For the most part, I feel like someone should feel after a 20 - sore and stiff but with a sense of accomplishment. 

Going down stairs was a slower process than normal on Monday morning, but not as bad as years past. 

I took notice of curbs as I navigated public transit that first morning, but I did not feel they were getting the better of me with their uneven ways. 

I stopped at an Argo Tea in the loop before a meeting Monday morning. I placed my order and then looked over a wide selection of loose leaf tea while others picked up their orders. I looked out the window for a moment, then thought it would be nice to sit.

That's when I saw this:

Just when I'd thought I was managing pretty well the morning after the 20 miler, reality slaps me in the face with an available, yet not attainable chair hovering a foot off the ground.

Though I imagine they wouldn't be so easy to get in and out of on a regular day, either.

Pushing Through

Long runs can take a long time. I like to think of them as journeys.

You can experience a variety of emotion, physical challenge and weather all on the same long run. 

September 7th's 18 miler was just that.

After a tune-up massage on Thursday night,  I foam rolled and crossed my fingers that my sore hip and quad would cooperate during Saturday morning's group training run.

That morning, I met Jeff and Carl, along with many others fellow marathoners-in-training, down at the Montrose site.

The weather was cooler than expected for what would be a hot day. Even still, it was humid.

The run started off ok. As we pulled into the first aid station at Diversey, I started to experience the lightheaded symptoms I had two weeks ago. I wonder where this is coming from. I've managed to train for five marathons and never have this.

I didn't want to give up 2.5 miles in to an 18 mile run, but at the same time, I didn't want to push too hard and pass out either. I decided to slow down the pace a bit and stay in the back of the group where I could trail off if needed.

I let Jeff know I wasn't feeling 100% and encouraged him to go on at the front of the group without me. He checked in with Carl, our group leader, and then came back to me. He said not to worry about it, he would run with me.

I have known Jeff since the summer of 2008 when I trained for my first marathon. With the exception of one year, he's been there with our group each year. Last year, Jeff and I ran the entire Chicago Marathon course together. Talk about stars aligning! This year, Jeff's training is going quite well. He seems stronger this year than in any other year I've known him. He could have easily continued with Carl at the front of the group, leading the way down to McCormick Place and back. Instead, he came to hang back with me. What a great friend!

We chased our group from a distance down to the turn around, then headed back north. Some miles I felt better (physically or mentally), others worse. The clouds parted to sun, back to clouds, to rain, to overcast again.

We talked about anything we could think of. Any topic could fly except to talk about running.

In the end, we finished where we started. 18 miles was complete.

A McDonald's fountain coke was purchased on the way home followed by a check mark placed next to the date where 18 miles was written.
 
The run wasn't pretty, but it was done.

[Thanks, Jeff]

The Concrete Jungle

In a city where we like to contain our nature and surround it by concrete, it's only fitting to have a place called the Concrete Jungle.

 Every Saturday morning, my group meets at Montrose Harbor and heads south on the lakefront trail. We start on a crushed limestone path, then move to an asphalt spur that brings us onto the formal bike path at the northern end of the golf course. We tuck under Lakeshore Drive just south of Belmont which puts us back on the limestone path down to North Avenue.

Earlier in the summer, our shorter routes don't push us over the North Avenue bridge. But by July, we're treking over the bridge and meeting up with our summertime training nemesis - The Concrete Jungle.

The Concrete Jungle, at least in my training group's terminology, is the 1.5 mile stretch between North Avenue and Ohio Street beach. This section of the lakefront is highly photographed and a popular place for Chicagoans and tourists alike to do all things recreation.

Though the skyline makes for a beautiful backdrop against the lake, I've never been able to figure out what the draw is to North Avenue and Oak Street beach. In my opinion, neither of these beaches has anything on Montrose, Foster or Hollywood Beach (or the quaint Rogers Park beaches for that matter). But nevermind beach talk - let's get back to the jungle.

We start just south of North Avenue. As the group merges onto the path at this curve, we're about five miles in to whatever our distance is of the day. We feel fresh and relatively rested. It's around 7:30am and likely not blazing hot...yet. 

The Oak Street Beach turn throws us a curveball with it's pitched path. Whereas we were running closer to the wall at Lake Shore drive for the first leg of the jungle, we now have to cross down the pitch and run right on the water. Why is the path pitched around Oak Street you ask?

 Because for a  period of the spring, winter and fall, waves crash up onto the path in the jungle. You have to use extreme caution in the winter where the path could have black ice. Ice + pitched path into lake could mean trouble. Or if nothing else, a wet remainder of your run or ride.

After crossing down to run along the water, the smooth concrete terrain becomes uneven with a decade of asphalt patchwork done between Oak and Ohio Street. It's at about this time that I wonder why and how it is that this heavily populated area of the path is still not fixed.

 

Fifteen minutes after meeting the Concrete Jungle, we've found it's end as we run up the ramp at Ohio Street beach. There's a few moments of shade before crossing in front of Navy Pier and then over the lower Lake Shore bridge to cross the river.

One may think the journey on the Concrete Jungle has come to an end. However, most runs have to finish where they started, and thus, our training run would not be complete without a round trip through the jungle.

Heading back North is two to four times as grueling as coming south. We're growing tired. Some of us are cramping. The sun is blazing down on us to no avail. I look longingly at the North Avenue boat house in the distance knowing that once we reach that point, there will be water and Gatorade, and most importantly, shade.

Over the years, we've had every variety of run possible coming back through the jungle. We've had overcast, cool weather or days we felt particularly strong. We have hot, humid days that broke our group into pairs of run/walkers.

Though I never look forward the Concrete Jungle during my long runs, I sure do wish I was running when I pass it driving on Lake Shore Drive.

To Jam or not to Jam?

For as long as I can remember, I've loved music.

Vinyl albums as a young child and cassette tapes in grade school. Then came along the dual cassette player (and the ability to create a mix tape). CDs in junior high and high school. CD burners and MP3's in college.

I remember bringing my cherry red GE walkman to elementary school. I'd received it as a Christmas gift from my aunt and uncle along with my first Madonna tape. When recess time came, I walked around listening to music instead of hanging out with other kids. It was handy on the bus throughout high school, too.

In college the no-skip Discman was a backpack utility as I walked to and from class. Not to mention a great aide as I labored for hours in the design and photo labs.

 

The digital music player invention changed the way many of us worked out. Being mobile with music was no longer any different than moving around the world without it. Your digital music player could be Velcro'd around your arm and provided an hour or two of music (and unlike it's predecessor, no skipping).

Today, the iPod (or iPhone) has become as much a part of the runners outfit as shorts and shoes. So the question of this post still remains - Do you run with music or without? And it's ok if you say both.

Throughout my training career, I've come and gone in waves with music. There's certain activities where you can't have music (cycling, yoga and swimming), some where you can (lifting, running) and others where it's a gray area (races).

My current habit is to run with music when I'm running alone and run without music when running with someone. I seem to get the best of both worlds this way. My latest playlist keeps me moving during those early morning weekday solo runs. Then I enjoy catching up with a friend or discussing our breakfast plans with the CARA training group.

If I ran with music all the time, I'd probably catch less of each conversation. There would be a lot of jokes and happenings I would have missed over the last eight or so years. Those moments created memories which created friendships.  I may have missed an important safety notice on the lakefront path like "bike back" or "group passing" which could have led to yet another avoidable injury.

 So, though music and I have had a lifetime love affair, I'm going to use it sparingly while running.

Four Long Runs Left

Two Saturdays ago, I met Jen and Jeff at our CARA marathon training site.

Embarrassingly, it's only the second week I've been to group training this year.

The site coordinator made a few announcements including a sound bite that we have just four long runs left in training.

Wait a sec, only four more? How is that possible?

I know I missed quite a few Saturday morning group runs due to weddings, festivals, concerts and vacations...but really, just four?

He went on to explain that there were just four Saturdays where we would run more than what we'd run that morning.

Ok, now I feel a bit better. As I let out a sigh of relief, I started to cringe.

I could see how the conversation would turn into a further explanation of how many weeks total we had left including cut back weeks. Which would lead into the question that gets asked at least once a season to the group of 200 or so runners:

The site coordinator: "This week is a cut back week. What do we do on cut back weeks?"

A few runners mumble their answer that would surely make it on the Family Feud board.

If someone else doesn't blurt it out over everyone at the site, the site coordinator follows with, "Have more sex." 

Some people laugh, smile and cheer. My face flushes red and I fight my hesitation to walk away.  Do we really need to have a conversation like this right now?

I may have dodged the exchange in the earlier weeks of training, but I'm certain I won't make it through the remainder of training without hearing it.

Morning Run Motivation

August begins tomorrow. What comes with the month of August? The continuation of marathon training.

I gathered a few quotes from Pinterest to help keep training going on the right foot (or left perferably, in my case):

One for those early Saturday mornings:

For those August and September mid-week 8 and 10 milers:

To stay focused and dedicated:

 Running clears the mind:

Why I Love Group Training

Signing up for races is easy.

Training for a race is hard.

Which brings me to one of my favorite aspects of being a distance runner - group training.

Most people can train for a 5k or 10k or their own. Many can train for a half marathon on their own. But as someone once told me, the marathon is not twice as hard as a half marathon. It's four times as hard.

On the recommendation of Mark and a few others who completed 26.2, I joined the Chicago Area Runners association marathon training program at their Montrose Harbor location in 2008. Starting in mid-June, training officially starts and thus the weekend long run. Though the Saturday long runs is where I met many of my running friends -Sara, Jen, Kim, Jeff to name a few.

Getting used to the Saturday morning training runs took a few weeks. My body wasn't ready to run at 6:30. Nor was it used to getting up earlier to eat, get ready and drive to group training (or bike if I was really motivated that morning). But very quickly, I started to notice the benefits of group training. Which is why I recommend group training to any future marathoner.

Truthfully, now that I've trained for so long with a group, I can't imagine training without it. Granted, you don't need the group for every run. But there are those days where you're mind's giving you excuses to not run (It's too cold/hot, I'm too tired...or maybe, I'm hung over) and the accountability of running with a group helps. Over the years, we've created our own branches of the CARA system - The mileage may be a bit more. The start and end location may vary. And most likely you're starting earlier in the morning. But all and all, we're keeping with the same spirit of group training. Though sometimes the group may be just a pair.

With a group, you share a common goal. Though many members of the group may be training for the Chicago Marathon, some others are planning for races in other parts of the country or world.

Running with a group challenges the voice in your head. You know, that voice that says "It's ok. You can stop and walk." With the group,  you can tame that voice and instead conquer Cricket Hill, the big hill of the North Side.

Though my training experience continues to grow, I don't think I'll ever grow out of group training.

The Big Hill of the North Side

Did you know there's a big hill on the North Side of Chicago?

Before I tell you about it, I'll need you to get into my frame of mind as I approach the bottom of the mountain (ok, maybe it's just a big hill?):

I'm in the last quarter mile of a run varying from 5 to 18 miles. It's likely warm and humid. My body and mind are probably not at 100%.

My terrain in the run so far (not including the North Avenue bridge) has been flat. I love Chicago for that.

I've spent anywhere from the last 50 minutes to 3 hours running. I'm probably ready to be done. I've consumed a relatively large quantity of water and Gatorade, not to mention Gu. A discussion has already happened about brunch (and I've decided what I'm having). A conversation on the topic of bodily fluids likely happened. On the smell meter, I'm somewhere between moderately offensive to homeless man on the El. 

I'm thinking of the big sigh I will let out as I lay in my bed an hour from now, freshly showered and full of post-run kibble. It will be glorious.

We turn off the main lakefront pathway and onto the spur that goes closer to the lakefront. The group gears up for Cricket Hill which comes into sight as we clear the viaduct. The group leaders yell something motivational about taking the hill so we don't wuss out.

Then we take on Cricket Hill. 

 

photo courtesy of emmers712.blogspot.com

The rationale is that if you run up Cricket Hill at the end of each long run then you'll have no problem with Roosevelt Street Bridge at the end of the Chicago Marathon. 

The strategy's worked for me, so I guess I'll keep on truckin' up the hill.  

Sometimes the hill comes easy. But most of the time, at least in my experience, it owns me. I get to the top of it short of breath and out of gas. Why is it that I do this? Yet I continue to do it, group run after group run. If running it once a week between June and September isn't enough, sometimes I hit it on a Wednesday mid-week run or on the off season as it's covered in snow. 

The duel between Cricket Hill and I continues (and I'll try to forget there's hill's in D.C.).

The Last Long Run

Friday night we celebrated my Uncle's birthday. He's the one that inspired me to run a marathon.

This weekend is my last long run before the marathon. A measly 8 miles.

Though I normally try to stick to Saturday morning training runs with the exception of vacation or races, 8 miles could wait until Sunday.

I went out after lunch this afternoon. It's so rare that I run on a weekend afternoon. I took notice of everything that seemed out of place.

More traffic on Sheridan. Cars blaring music as they wait in traffic. Kids on bikes. College kids with backpacks, anxiously attending to their smart phones.

Then onto the path where couples were walking together, some dogs ran without leashes, runners passed by and cyclists whizzed by.

A pick up basketball game was in full swing at the court north of Foster. Some visited Foster Avenue beach for what could be the last warm Sunday of the season.

Soccer games were held for all ages with varied field sizes - pint sized for the little tykes and regulation for the adults. A band performed before a game held around Wilson. Groups gathered for barbeques. Kids rode their bikes and ran up Cricket Hill. Mobile ice cream carts strolled by.

I turned around at Irving to head back north. The golf course seemed quiet today. I imagined many would be patrons were busy watching the Ryder Cup.

I took notice of fall colors coming out in the trees' leaves. In some ways, I can't believe I'm at this point in training, week 17, again. Each year these 17 weeks seem to go by faster.

This coming Sunday will be the fifth time I've stood in the start corral for the Chicago Marathon. Though I've done the same race four times so far, each year has been drastically different from the other.

I'm sure this year will be it's own story as well.

Hello, Soleus

The 20 miler is a lot of things.

Kind isn't one of them.

You can be at the starting line seemingly injury free, yet manage to tweak something in that long journey to the finish.

I've strained my calf before. I've had an inflamed achilles tendon as well.

This time the issue was the soleus. Do you know about the soleus? I certainly didn't.

I've never taken an anatomy class, but I'm pretty sure I can outline every muscle in the legs after distance running for the last seven or so years.

Post 20 mile run, I got a lower leg massage and followed up with RICE (rest, ice, compression and elevation) over the next few days.

Though there was a bit of swelling, the RICE method seemed to do me some good.

Two days of rest followed by a new pair of running shoes arriving in the mail.

Now you know I can't resist breaking them in...

20 Mile Prep

Every marathoner does at least one twenty mile training run.

Some of us do multiples.

For most, this is your furthest and therefore, at least on paper, your most difficult run.

The 20 miler is the peak of your training. Once you finish this run, your taper officially begins.

We are told to treat the 20 miler as practice for the race. This is an opportunity to test your outfit, your pre-race breakfast and dinner the night before, hydrating, suspect chafing...and the list goes on.

What you realize as you prepare for your 20 miler is how intricate a process running has become.

Remember when you used to go out on a run in shoes you bought at Kohl's and soccer shorts? Ah, those carefree days. When you didn't worry about how far or fast you were going. Before you knew what Gu was. When you wore (gasp) cotton socks.

Those days are long gone.

Now, the night before a 20 miler, I'm running through my long run checklist:

• Outfit, socks, hat and shoes
• In-run nutrition
• In-run hydration
• Storage for nutrition and hydration
• Music (just in case)
• A contingency plan for if I get in to trouble (house key along with a phone, cash or CTA card)

The 20 miler I did this year was an organized training run that was a point to point along the Lakefront path. We started at Wilson, went north to about Bryn Mawr, then headed south to around 63rd Street. I completed this training run with a few of my close friends and about 2000 other people. There was a party at the finish complete with massages, food, beer and most importantly, my gear check bag with a pair of flip flops in it.

The Gatorade Bush

Last weekend was Labor Day weekend. The official last weekend of summer.

My Labor Day weekend usually starts off Saturday morning by running 18 miles. Followed by a lake ice bath, brunch and a nap. By the time I resurface from the nap, it's mid-afternoon.

Kim and I had a music festival we wanted to attend this past weekend. It started Friday night.

Should we go to the show Friday night, leave early, then run our traditional 18 Saturday morning?

Or, if we ran it Friday morning, we could enjoy the show Friday night (not to mention the rest of the weekend) with our run out of the way.

Last Friday, I was up by 4:30 and driving downtown. I parked my car and met Kim just south of the river. She had our course mapped out, we'd split the 18 over the two sides of the river - 9 north and 8 south.

Some of our friends had the same idea. We ran into Ed twice. Jen was out on the lakefront as well. 

Since there were no aide stations on the route that day, she'd come up with a great plan - to stash Gatorade in a bag with some ice, then place under the cover of a bush.

We headed north first to tackle the concrete jungle before the temperature rose.  Four and a half north made for a turn around right by Fullerton. We talked about family, work, traveling and upcoming races. Then we ran back south to the Gatorade bush.

We took a few minute break, re-hydrated, topped off our fuel belts, then headed south. The southern leg of our run provided some shade that we welcomed in the heat. We replenished our water at the new 31st street marina building. It's always nice to find a new water fountain on the lakefront. As the heat rose, we were happy to be finishing our last few miles ending at the Gatorade Bush.

4:30 am Run

This summer has proved to be a hot one thus far.

Morning running has proved a necessity instead of a convenience.

However, sometimes even early morning running isn't enough.

Last Friday, for the first time in the five years I've been training, CARA canceled a Saturday long run due to the heat at all their sites. They advised against running Saturday altogether, noting that Sunday's forecast was predicted to be favorable for exercise.

Soon after the CARA email came out, emails flew between a small group of runners. Runners that were somewhat determined to get their 10 mile run in Saturday.

So how does one go about running on a black flagged day?  Run earlier than the 6:30 or 6 am training groups.

5am was tossed around as a meet up time at Montrose Harbor.

My alarm went off at 4:00am. I checked my messages to see Kim had a restless night of sleep and planned to run instead on Sunday. I ate breakfast and put on my gear. I filled my water bottles and made a strong concentration of Gatorade.

It was 4:30. I was ready. And so I went.

Running at 4:30am on a Saturday proved to be much different than at 6. The streets were relatively quiet with scattered police on patrol. I ran down the sidewalk, toward the lakefront path. I could hear my footsteps. A rarity in a city of a thousand sounds.

I wondered how long it would be before I saw someone else with the same crazy idea. I made it just three blocks from my house before seeing the first runner. I decided I would wave or say hi to each runner today. Anyone out at this time had to be partially crazy or a total bad ass.

As George had posted regarding his Friday run, I broke the run into segments. I took time to focus on hydration, stretching and tuning in to how I felt. Today wasn't a day to push through anything. I might think I was tough, but I wasn't going to be a hero for crashing on this training run either.

I was lucky enough to reach my turn around point shortly after the run broke through the clouds as it rose for the day. I had shade on my side on the way back. I barely looked at my watch but to check the overall distance.

I finished right around 6:30. It wasn't a memorable run as to how I felt physically or mentally, but I was happy to have the accomplishment complete for that day.