Toe-Shoes Tina: Why yes, I am JUST like fine wine, thanks for asking!

Distance:  5.5 miles
Pace:  9:02/mile
Heart rate:  153 BPMs

Wine:  Small bottle (375 ml) of sake with sushi last night (I recently discovered how much better cold sake is than the crappy sake they heat up for sake bombers; I feel so grown up!)

I am writing this on an airplane – yay Southwest WiFi!  Husband #1 (yeah, the nickname is sticking) and I are on our way to New Orleans to celebrate Slo Jo’s birthday.  This type of trip is much more difficult for us since we had kids (in fact, we just realized this is the first time we’ve flown out of town without kids in tow).  Specifically, yesterday we had to drive 5 hours with the kids to drop them off in the city where my parents live.  To give my poor sciatic some relief before following that up with a 3+ hour plane ride, I went for a run this morning.  Trying to figure out pacing, I decided to just run at a speed that felt good.  I was a little disappointed that speed was over 9:00/mile on a 5.5 mile run.  This probably puts my marathon pace at 10:00/mile or more. 

I decided to run a loop that took me by my old high school.  As I passed it, I saw that it now practically shares a parking lot with a smoke shop, a bar, and several fast food joints.  I guess zoning laws have changed since I graduated.  I also saw the track and tried to remember ever running on it.  I couldn’t.  Perhaps I ran a few laps in some compulsory PE event, but I’ve blocked it from my memory.  I didn’t run in high school.  I was active:  I played hockey, had a gym membership, and roller bladed (it was the 90s).  I also rode a bike until I got my drivers license on the day I turned 16 and then didn’t get on one again until I signed up for a triathlon after post-graduate school.  But I certainly didn’t run.  I was shocked today to discover my high school was less than 1.5 miles from my parents’ house.  Had they suggested I run to school back in the day, I would have called CPS and demanded a foster home.  Today I passed the high school and then ran another 4+ miles. 

It makes no sense to me that 34 year old Toe-Shoes Tina can run circles around 17 year old Tina (no running . . . no toe shoes yet).  So I consulted Professor Google.  Obviously the blog post comparing runners to fine wine caught my eye:  http://runningtips101.com/female-long-distance-runners-are-like-wine-they-get-better-with-time/.  The post gives a few reasons why women tend to peak in distance running between ages 25 and 35 – over the hill in most sports.  One reason struck a chord with me: women often start distance running as adults and tend to peak about 10 years after starting.  It makes me wonder what I could have achieved if I started running at age 14 instead of age 24.  The article also points out that women can actually improve running after childbirth.  Also an interesting point, but then you have less time to run.  I'm dubious.

In any event, I am a much better runner in my 30s than I was in my 20s and was a much better runner in my 20s than my teens.  According to the post, I have another year in my “peak zone,” so it’s good I chose this year for a marathon.  I’ll drink to that!

(TST apologizes for the lack of funny pictures on this post.  While airplane internet is awesome, it is also far too slow to mess around with images.)

Slo-Jo: Treadmill Time--Whatever Will Tyra Banks Make Those Aspiring Models Do Next?

Today’s Run: 4 miles on treadmill

Pace: 10:30

BPM: about 135

Wine consumption: 9 btls Montgras Reserva from Chile (it is birthday week)

Let me begin by saying birthday week is hard. There is a lot of food. There is a lot of wine. These are some of my favorite things. But then, alas, I don’t really feel like bounding out of bed in the morning and putting on my running shoes. I feel like lying in bed and then maybe trundling out to get a big breakfast. So that’s what I did this morning. And the morning before that. And the morning before that.

That said, I’m now afraid to get on the scale and I don’t want to have to invest in a running muumuu, so I managed to get myself on the treadmill today. I own a treadmill. It is in the spare room, and I have a TV in front of it that records shows like So You Think You Can Dance and America’s Next Top Model. (I need a certain type of program to run to—SYTYCD is perfect, because I watch these young dancers do these incredible things and think, “You can’t even run another .2?” And ANTM, um, well, I just happen to like it. Tyra Banks has sailed over the edge into craziness. She invented a new word, "smize," which means "smile with your eyes." How can I not watch?)

(Tyra Banks is not smizing.)

I decided to wear my heartrate monitor on my treadmill run because I was curious if it would be lower. Certain friends have suggested the treadmill is easier. I have to admit it does feel easier. For example, I can run at speeds on the treadmill that tend to kill me outside. The treadmill might be doing some of the work.

Sure enough, rather than the 174 I had on the 9-mile run this weekend, I had a nice, relaxed 135 bpm. I did not feel like I was working hard at all. (I realize I probably could have pushed the pace a bit more, but I was pretty happy to be on the treadmill AT ALL.) And I had the treadmill at a 1% incline to try to simulate running outside, but it still felt kind of easy.

So is it easier? According to Runner’s World (I stole that line from Toe-Shoes Tina. Maybe RW will start linking to our blog!):

“Running on the treadmill is easier than running outdoors, for a variety of reasons. One reason is that the treadmill belt assists leg turnover, making it easier to run faster. So most runners find that their pace on the treadmill doesn’t correlate to their road pace. Also, some of the soft tissue conditioning or 'hardening' that occurs with road running does not occur with treadmill running because the plate or base on the treadmill ‘gives’ more than road surfaces.” 

Runner’s World suggests using the treadmill for speedwork or tempo runs instead.

But let’s face it. It can be, shall we say, a little toasty to run outside in Phoenix sometimes, and people who live in cold-weather climates can’t run outside all year either. Sometimes the treadmill is the difference between staying in shape and the long, slow slide into getting forklifted out of your house one day.

(You didn't think I'd put a picture of some poor soul being forklifted, did you? Let's admire Matthew McConaughey instead. I wonder what he thinks of the treadmill debate.)

Thus, as Tim Gunn would say (Project Runway is not a treadmill show. It requires my full attention), we have to make it work. Most of the authorities I have found online state that one way to make treadmill running more like outside running is to add an incline to the treadmill. Basically, the issue is that the lack of wind resistance means you will consume less oxygen at the same speed on the treadmill. There was a 1996 study of oxygen resistance that concluded a 1% incline offsets this difference.

I will note a last treadmill difference I didn’t see on the running websites: on the treadmill, you cannot take your fat dogs with you. Mine just stare at me like, really? Another walk opportunity WASTED.

(Site of our future marathon greatness!)

I probably won’t be blogging about a long run this weekend because some friends and I, including Toe-Shoes Tina, are going to New Orleans for my birthday celebration weekend. Toe-Shoes Tina wants to do a long run around New Orleans. She invited me to join her. (This from the same woman who once asked if I wanted to go running before we went skiing.) 

I told her I’m probably out. I’m planning to sleep in. Maybe trundle out to have a big breakfast. As I said: birthday week is hard.

(Don't miss our latest posts! You can sign up for email updates at the top of the page! --TST & SJ)

Toe-Shoes Tina: Poppin' Tags At The Running Store

My friend, we'll call her SK for Shoe Killer, is training for her first half marathon.  Lately she's been getting a lot of pain as she increases her distance.  Turns out it's because her shoes look like this on the bottom:

(That's one way to start barefoot running.)

SK had literally run through her shoes.  Ever the running enabler, I offered to meet her at the running store to help her find replacements.  Yesterday, after dropping daughter #1 at dance, I still had daughter #2 with me because husband #1 was working late.  (I actually only have one husband, but a husband #2 -- or wife # 2, for that matter -- would be useful for childcare.). Shoe shopping with a 3 year old.  Awesome. 

The running store was fancy.  They put SK on a treadmill and filmed her running to do a stride analysis. Then they had her step into this squishy mat thing that gave them all kinds of measurements.  Finally, they put several different types of shoes on her feet.  With each pair, they would have her take a little jog around the store.  Mercifully, she took daughter #2 on these jogs with her.  Only 5 more miles and daughter #2 might be tired!  Daughter #2 liked these jogs so much, I took her on a few myself in my Havana flip flops.  I'm pretty sure I saw a couple sales people wince.  

While SK tried on shoes, I browsed.  So many cool things I don't own!  Spiked foam rollers and compression socks!  Do I need them?  (My trainer says yes to the roller, no to the socks.)  Of course the first thing I looked for was Vibrams.  Not surprisingly, a store that will spend 15 minutes analyzing what type of arch support you need does not carry shoes that are designed to mimic barefoot running.  Drats!   I wanted to check out the winterized Vibram I recently found online (surely to be the subject of an upcoming post). I did find toe socks, to my surprise.  They are exactly what they sound like:

(Of course, in this pic I am wearing them to box, not to run.)

According to Runners World (I feel like I say that a lot), injinji socks (toe socks) are the best for preventing blisters, even in real shoes.  I love them.  I also got brave and tried on those tight booty shorts all the runners and yogis wear these days.  I was so excited that the large was too big, I bought the size medium in a burst of enthusiasm.  This weekend, I will join the ranks of booty short clad runners!

Meanwhile, SK spent a lot of time talking to the salesman.  He had completed 81 marathons, including New York and Boston. He is a real runner.  He told me he'd done New Orleans its inaugural year. Making a face, he said people were handing out hurricanes at mile 4.  He made a worse face when I told him that seemed more appropriate for mile 24. I guess real runners don't appreciate alcohol on the course.  Lame. If anyone is in New Orleans in February, I would very much appreciate a hurricane at mile 24. Just sayin' . . . 

SK walked away with a new pair of Saucony shoes-- this time with soles -- as well as a bunch of energy gels to try.  I hope new gear makes her as excited to run as it does me.  

Slo Jo: The Heart of a Champion (or Unfit Person)

Distance: 9 miles

Heart rate: 173-ish

Weight: Not talking about it.

Wine consumption: 2 gl. at dinner with Indian food 

Today was the weekend long run with Coach starting at 5:30 a.m. We were supposed to go with B and F. At 5:30, B texted that it was raining and she wasn’t getting out of bed. F texted that she thought the run was starting at 6:30, not 5:30. This is what happens when you start the run so early. People don’t think it’s such a great idea when the alarm goes off.

It was still dark at 5:30, leading to this conversation:

Coach:  Wait, I need to find my sunscreen.

Me:  You don’t need sunscreen. It is the middle of the night.

Coach:  Where are my sunglasses?

Me:    Have you noticed it is pitch black out and raining?

The focus of today’s nine-mile run was my new heart rate monitor. I bought this as a birthday present for myself—it is a Garmin Forerunner 110 watch with a heart rate monitor. 

(This is not my arm. I'm less veiny and muscular. And am a girl.)

Turns out I have a ridiculously fast heartbeat while working out. Or maybe all the time. We walked from the car to the stoplight, and it was already 93 bpm. Coach’s was, like, 12. Then we got to play this game for 9 miles:

Coach: What’s it at now?

Me:      168.

Coach:  Mine’s 131!

(half mile passes)

Coach: What's it at now?

I never won this game.

Coach informed me that I shouldn’t worry—what mattered was how fast my heart slows after I stop exercising. Was that true? Seems like my rate is pretty fast. (Note that it is faster at a moderate pace for a long slow distance run than Toe-Shoes Tina’s was for her all out one-mile sprint.) What if I have heart disease?

So I did a little research. Traditionally, people use a formula that takes 220 minus-your-age to come up with a heart rate maximum, and then you train at a percentage of that. So my max would be 180, and I'd be training at 75% of that, or 135. I'm quite a bit higher. But according to some pros, this formula is “notoriously inaccurate.” http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/health/nutrition/10BEST.html  

In fact, the formula was devised in 1970 by physicians who culled data from different studies to find a maximum heart rate—but these were not meant to be a representative sample of the population. They drew a line through the data and determined that for age 20, the heart rate maximum average was 200, and for age 60, it was 160. Although it was clear a maximum heart rate could vary widely depending on the individual, people took it as gospel. One of the physicians who came up with the formula said to the New York Times that the formula “was never supposed to be an absolute guide to people’s training.”  http://www.nytimes.com/2001/04/24/health/maximum-heart-rate-theory-is-challenged.html?pagewanted=all&src=pm

That article also says, “Heart rate is an indicator of heart disease," said Dr. Michael Lauer, a cardiologist and the director of clinical research in cardiology at the Cleveland Clinic Foundation. But, he added, it is not the maximum that matters: "it is how quickly the heart rate falls when exercise is stopped.”

(I tell Coach. He says, “Isn’t that what I said?” Dude, I know. I’m allowed to consult other sources.)

What to conclude? I will just keep an eye on it, hope my heart doesn't explode, and watch to see if the rate decreases over the next months as marathon training gets serious. And then there is this:

(My wine glass would likely have several more EKG rhythms in it.)

Red wine contains resveratrol, which is supposed to be good for your heart. I will now, without evidence, conclude that my awesomely fast heart rate is directly related to my wine drinking. I tried to find an article on Google to support this theory, but it appears studies are lagging in this area. If scientists need people to study, however, I know a whole lotta lawyers.

Toe-Shoes Tina: One Mile

Distance:  1 mile
Pace:  Undetermined (see below), but definitely under 7 minutes
Heart Rate:  165
Wine:  3 glasses of Dynamite Cabernet last night (a very long night of pizza and wine with friends)

Finally, I get to use Slo Jo's format!  Some of you may have noticed that I have not yet reported any actual running or wine drinking activity that occurred during this blog's lifespan.  You are perceptive.  That is because (1) I only run if I have to and I don't have to yet because it's only August (I have been boxing, but as this is not a boxing blog, I've spared you the details) and (2) I have decided not to drink wine on weekdays, barring some special event, until after the marathon.  Yesterday was Friday . . . wine!

Since this is the week of my "starting" measurements (body fat, Vo2, etc.), I decided to see how fast I can run a mile.  I suspected I could do it in about 7 minutes and really hoped I could break 7 minutes.  This was also a good opportunity to try out my heart rate monitor that I got for my MapMyRun app.  As an aside, I love love LOVE MapMyRun.  It tells me my time and pace at each mile and also has a handy map for running in new cities.  Then it breaks down all kinds of awesome stats after the run: elevation, climbs, splits, and now heart rate!  The monitor connects via blue tooth to my phone.  Score!  I will use it to make sure I'm in a good training zone on distance runs as I struggle with finding a pace I can sustain long term.

Back to the run.  One mile:  no biggie, right?  Not when you're sprinting.  I started out feeling good.  It was 6:30 am and the sidewalk was packed.  There are a lot of retirees in my neighborhood and they were all out walking this morning, some with pets.  It was like an obstacle course at times.  One very elderly man using a walker, not seeing me, actually decided to enter the sidewalk right in front of me causing me to dodge him in rather spectacular fashion.  Fortunately for him, the agility ladders at boxing class have paid off and I avoided him.

I ran like I've never run before, or so it felt.  When fatigue kicked in, I made the mistake of looking at my phone to see how far I'd gone.  It was a big mistake that I only made once; I was only a HALF a mile in.  Oh hell, grit, right?  Well a half mile of oxygen-deprived sprinting tested the limits of my grit.  I dug in and ran until I was literally seeing spots in my periphery and pain was radiating under my collar bone.  Finally, MapMyRun announced "Distance:  One Mile!"  The three most beautiful words I have heard in a long time.  I did not collapse onto the ground like I wanted, but broke into a walk instead to recover.  Today I learned it is challenging to simultaneous gasp for air and try to hold down the coffee that so desperately wants to climb back out of your stomach.  When the dizziness passed, I looked at my stats.  Duration: 6:55; Pace:  6:56; 1 Mile Split: 6:52. Eh?  Which is it?  I'll go with the middle number and call it 6:55.

This is just one of the useful summaries MapMyRun gives.  It also told me I climbed a total of 82 feet during this mile.  That is 70 more feet than the elevation of the NOLA marathon.

According to a recent Runners World article about one mile races, this makes me a slightly faster than a strong "local" competitor and nowhere near a strong "regional" competitor.  I'm not sure what that means, exactly, but I'll take it.

If only I was 60 or older . . . 

By the way, despite the fact the sun had just come up, it was already hot and (for Phoenix) humid.  Maybe I'll try this again when it cools off.  

No wonder all the senior citizens were out walking.  In an hour, it will be unbearable! 

Slo-Jo: Goals for the Full (More Pinot, Fewer Cabs?)

Run: 3 miles, testing new Garmin

Heartrate: 180 (whaaaa?)

Wine consumed: 1 gl. night before

Weight: down two lbs (boom!)

Serious training for the marathon will begin soon, so before that happens, I want to set out some goals. I’ve done this before. For example, when I set out to run the half marathon, I had a goal: FINISH. Over the course of training, that goal got refined a little.

I wasn’t in the greatest shape before I set out to train for the half. I was sedentary. I ran occasionally, but I would have to walk during mile 2. Running three felt like I was some amazing Olympian. And then I made the big mistake of having my body fat tested in some torture device called “The Bod Pod.” 

(The Bod Pod. This woman is smiling. She must not have received her results yet. Or she thinks she is going on an amazing space odyssey.)

Let us just say my number was QUITE A BIT HIGHER than Toe-Shoes Tina’s in her latest post. I recall waving the printout around and saying, “This is clearly wrong. This is wrong. I am not a candidate for The Biggest Loser. This is obviously your business’s attempt to get me to sign up for personal training so you can test me later and give me a normal number and claim that you are really effective.”

(I hope I didn’t actually voice the last sentence and used my internal monologue for that last complaint, but I can't say for sure. I was really upset.)

So I went out for a big meal (if I’m going to be 130% fat, might as well eat) with my good friend L. I believe I confessed that he was eating dinner with someone who was mostly fat, maybe with some bones hidden in there. We decided that I should run a half marathon, and to spice it up, I should challenge our mutual friend J to a bet. J was also looking to get in better shape.

J is tall and very athletic. But he does not have, shall we say, a runner’s frame, and I thought I had a chance. J did not hesitate in accepting the challenge and, in fact, let us know he was offended that I thought I could beat him. I am, after all, most kindly described as “bookish.” “Nerdy” is a word that has been bandied about. So J thought he had this in the bag. But I knew that we bookish types are good at reading up about training, and I also tend to work hard if I have a goal. I had a goal.

I wrote up a little contract and sent it to J:

Let's iron out the terms of our bet. If you beat me with your half-marathon time, then I pay for your flight to Vegas (not to exceed $200). If I win, then you pay for a spa treatment of my choice (again, not to exceed $200).

Forfeiture: if you must forfeit for any reason, including injury, sickness, lack of adequate training, then forfeiting runner pays $100 if other person finishes half marathon.

J agreed. It was time to train.

My starting runs had one thing in common: they were slow. I couldn’t believe how slow I was. If you had asked me before I started using the Map My Run app, I would have said I ran 10-minute miles. I also probably would have said I had 20% body fat. I was wrong.

(What's that 13:47 doing in there? Some days, running is hard.)

Around this time, I became friends with a guy I've nicknamed Coach. Coach has competed in several races and was interested in my training. I had never run with others before; I was more of a solitary trudger. I didn’t like feeling like others were frustrated by my pace or by my need for walking breaks. But I ran very slowly with Coach and some other friends, and it was actually a very positive experience. These friends were so supportive. They weren’t judging my inabilities. They were helping me get better. It was pretty awesome.

Over time, I decided my goal was not just to finish. It was to finish in under 2:30. This would be an 11:30 mile, which is still pretty slow, but I thought it was reasonable for my first half. And at least I had something more concrete to say when people asked me about my goals.

Now, about a week before the half, a miracle happened, and I suddenly started running 10-minute miles. I ran 3.5 at 10:04 pace, and longer runs at 10:20s. I have no explanation for this other than I started eating sandwiches. I’d like to have a wine-based explanation, but I think my wine consumption was pretty high consistent over this time period.

The half marathon arrived, and another friend, S, had signed up for the half but wasn’t feeling well that day. She decided to run with me as my coach. I said, “Let’s do 11:30s.” She said, “Great.” I could tell when we began that we were going faster, but I felt so good. I had a smile on my face. We were blazing through the pack of runners. And, because I had set up with the marathon that certain friends would get text messages of my progress through the race based on my timing chip, I knew I had to keep going or Coach was going to kill me. I could hear him saying, “Don’t go out too fast.” And here I was, going out too fast. But I held on to it with S.’s help.

Around the end of mile 11, S said brightly, “We can finish in under 2:20!” Then she added, less brightly: “But it’s going to hurt.”

So instead of SLOWING DOWN for the last two miles, we picked it up. I think my smile had faded a bit by this point. I remember asking her, “HOW MUCH LONGER?!” And she would lie. “Two more minutes!”

We finished at 2:20. We had done a 10:40 pace, which was nearly a minute faster than my game plan per mile. I was so happy! And really grateful for S’s help.

So here are the lessons. One: I can probably do more than I think I can. Two: I have some awesome friends.  Three: Screw you, Bod Pod. 

But how do these translate into the marathon goals? 

Not sure yet. Right now I feel like if I could finish in under 5 hours, that would be swell. I lost 10 pounds in training for the half, so it feels like I am no longer the 437% body-fat person I was. Muscles have emerged. I’d like to lose another ten. I’m planning to do more speed workouts and weight training this time, and I’m hoping that will translate into a better time. I think I’ll update this goal in December and see where I am.

Last but not least: did I beat J in the marathon? YES. Because he didn't compete. He had some excuse which I have forgotten. I did not enforce our contract--instead, he came over and fixed my shower for me. Friends are good. 

Toe-Shoes Tina: Muscle and Grit

Good news, I did not cry in the dunk tank.  Upon arriving, I changed into my bikini and realized I haven't shaved my legs in 3 days. Uh oh, would tiny air bubbles cling to my leg hair and make me more buoyant (which means fat in hydrostatic weighing)????  No time to fix it now!

The trainer made me feel better, telling me my scale was wrong and that such devices had up to a 20 percent margin of error.  He was only mildly amused when I pointed out that meant I could possibly be 52% body fat.  He thought I'd definitely be below 30.

Hydrostatic weighing is no joke. The tub looks like an elongated hot tub (but much colder). You lie face down on this cradle, blow all your air out, dunk your head under, and continue to blow air out until the guy administering the test taps you on the leg, signaling you to raise your head.  When you do so, you gasp for air like you are Uma Thurman and John Travolta just stabbed you in the heart with epinephrine to save you from an OD. 

(My nose was not bleeding, but my makeup was running)

Here is a video of guy explaining hydrostatic weighing and then doing it to himself.  He is not as gaspy as me.:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QslL-PqOs2s.

I did this 4 times and heard "hm, you're lighter in the water than I thought you'd be."  Light=buoyant=fat.  Eek!  Upon getting dressed, I was greeted with a printout showing I am 26.5 percent body fat.  With my activity level, the printout further informed me I could eat 2,500 calories a day to maintain my weight.  Wine, anyone?

On to Vo2 max testing.  This allegedly measures your fitness level. I say allegedly because it told me my level was only "fair." (I've done it twice before and scored above average.) What the WHAT?  No!  This was the test I was supposed to KILL!  The trainer told me not to worry too much because it was a submax test as opposed to a max test.  He said I can use it to pace myself for long runs.  According to the printout, my heart rate should be at 130-140 for the long distances.  Um, so I should walk?  How is that possible?  I know my heart rate is much higher than that on my distance runs. I guess I push myself harder than I should and really underestimated my grit.  Or the test is wrong.  Just like my stupid scale. Yeah, that's it. 

To reward myself for 4 hours of fasting (empty stomach for weighing), I went to my favorite vegan restaurant and ordered a huge green salad.  Now I can drink 1,000 calories of wine (except that I have parent teacher night at school). Tomorrow it is.  

               NOT WINE *sad face*

Toe-Shoes Tina: All Muscle?

I am heavy.  I stand 5’4” tall and wear a size 6, which makes me a normal size.  But I am not a normal weight.  I pack 151 pounds into my size 6 dress (if you know me, please tell me how shocked you are to hear I do not weigh 130 because you could never tell by looking).  

My current weight is actually low for me.  Through my adult life, I’ve hovered around 155, reaching a (non-pregnant) high of 162 and a low of 147 (ah, the life of a post-graduate student).  Though I feel lean at 151, BMI qualifies me as “overweight.”  BMI, of course, comes with the standard caveat that it is not accurate for certain groups of people, including muscular athletes.  Well, baby, I’m all muscle.  At least that’s what I’ve told  myself for years.  And not just me.  Others tell me that too.  In college, I worked at a gym.  Guys used to come up to me in the weight room and tell me they’d do anything to get quads like mine.  Fellas, please file this gem of a line under “how not to pick up a college girl.”  But it’s a fair point.  I have the legs that hockey built and now the calves that Vibrams built (making it challenging to find knee-high boots that zip).   But, hey, it’s muscle, right?

This is not me.  I am not literally all muscle.  Hyperbole is a literary device I enjoy. 

Unfortunately, my scale tells me I’m not all muscle.  I got my scale about 10 years ago and it is the kind you stand on and it tells you your weight and body fat percentage.  Today my scale told me I weigh 151 and am 32 percent body fat.  We are no longer on speaking terms.  Clearly, my scale is inaccurate.  I’m all muscle!  (See above.)  For 10 years it’s been the scale, not me.  But I’ve always had a nagging doubt that the scale is right and I am so . . . so wrong. 

Today we will find out.  At 1:00, I will go get my body composition tested by hydrostatic weighing.  According to this website

http://sportsmedicine.about.com/od/fitnessevalandassessment/g/UnderwaterWeigh.htm

I will be lowered underwater on a special scale, asked to expel all the air from my lungs, and remain motionless while my underwater weight is measured. This procedure is repeated three times and averaged.  Although it is vaguely reminiscent of what they used to do to witches in Salem, Mass., hydrostatic weighing is supposedly one of the most accurate ways to measure body composition.  I’ve wanted to do it for years.  It takes money and courage and I’ve never had both at the same time.  Today is the day.  If I see any number starting with a 3, I’ll cry right there in the dunk tank.   I’d be ecstatic at 25 percent.  I will update later to share my results. 

Slo Jo: Tempo Run vs. the Sloth

Today’s Run: 4 miles, tempo run

Outside Temperature: 90 degrees

Wine Consumption: 1 glass last night, unknown cabernet, but free, so no complaints here

Today’s run was a tempo run. According to “Run Less, Run Faster,” I should do a one-mile slow warm-up run, then run two miles at tempo, then do a one-mile cool-down run. According to the chart in the book, my tempo run (based on a 5K pace of 33 minutes) would be 10:54.

Here’s how it went:

Mile One: 12-minute mile pace. Felt like passing cars were wondering why I was going so slow. People were walking their three-legged Chihuahuas past me. Elderly ladies hobbled by me with their canes. (I can make fun of myself because this is the pace I started at before I did my half marathon, and it was hard for me then. It is nice to see improvement.)

(This chihuahua informs me she is a helluva lot faster than a 12-minute miler. I believe her. But no take-backs.)

Mile Two: 10:05 pace. Felt like a race horse ready to go after the slow first mile. It felt good to actually run. Towards the end of the mile, I thought, I wonder if I could hang on to this pace for 13 miles. That thought made me want to throw up. I was killing my 10:54 planned tempo pace. I may have to revisit what I think my 5k time is.

Mile Three: 10:20 pace. A little slower. I tried something my friend Coach has suggested—occasional running more slowly rather than walking to catch my breath. I was breathing harder, so I needed to slow the pace a little and run at the three-legged Chihuahua elderly-person-with-cane speed a while. Then I’d try to pick it back up.

During this mile, I thought about Toe-Shoes Tina’s blog entry where she said she had grit that enabled her to keep pushing through pain for three-minute intervals. I decided I am the opposite of Tina. I have a natural tendency to quit. I am like, “This really sucks. Why not slow down? Why not walk? Why not go home and do your favorite thing: sit? Or even better—lie in bed.”

(Most of the sloth pictures I found showed them hanging from trees, which seems to require some upper body strength that I do not have. This sloth is more like me in my natural state.)

One of my favorite web sites, The Oatmeal, discussed this tendency in a comic called, “The Terrible and Wonderful Reasons Why I Run Long Distances,” available here: http://theoatmeal.com/comics/running.  The author describes The Blerch, a “wretched, lazy beast” who follows him when he runs, telling him to slow down, walk, and quit. I know this Blerch. I am the Blerch. Tina is the Anti-Blerch, but she’s unusual. 

Mile Four: Bliss. Slowed to an 11:30 pace. It felt really good. Did a nice slow trek around my neighborhood and checked out everyone’s houses. Then I went home and made myself a nice glass of mean green juice and sat on my couch. My inner Blerch--or extra lazy sloth--was happy.

Toe-Shoes Tina: But I Don't Wanna Run!

It’s not so much that I hate running.  It’s that I love boxing . . . and skating, and, well just about any form of exercise that involves short bursts of energy.  I’m an interval trainer.   At my boxing gym, I push until my lungs burn, I’m seeing spots, my face is throbbing, my muscles are shaking, and every part of my brain (at least the part that’s still functional) is screaming “Quit, you idiot!  Quit!”  But I don’t quit.  I ignore the rational part of my brain and dig in and go harder until I’m done, which is usually 30 seconds to 3 minutes later.    I can do anything for 3 minutes – I’ve got grit.  Up to now, that’s how I’ve gotten through runs.  It is marginally successful for short distances. 

According to Runners World (which comports with my own experiences), relying on grit instead of training is a recipe for injury.  Of the four half marathons I’ve run, I properly trained only for the first one in 2007.  My fitness level has improved considerably since 2007, something that is not reflected in my race times since.  Each time since 2007, I’ve limped across the finish line:  disappointed with my time and vowing to immediately start training for the next race.  That vow is then broken the next day when I can’t walk. Running in Vibrams further complicates matters.  For those of you unfamiliar with Vibrams, they look a lot like aqua socks and have about the same amount of support.  The idea is that if you run on your mid-foot instead of striking first with your heel, your muscles take all the impact that your joints used to take.  Vibrams have saved my knees and hips.  After my second half marathon (the first one for which I did not train), I ended up having to see a chiropractor to put my hips back in the right place.  After that, I switched to Vibrams and I will never go back to regular shoes or a “heel strike” running stride. 

My Vibrams gaze upon the Golden Gate Bridge (now you know why I am "Toe-Shoes")

Unfortunately, the repetitive pounding onto a thin layer of rubber can be hell on your feet unless you build up slowly.  Without training, I’m golden up to about 8 miles, then the wheels fall off.  The last time I ran a half marathon, my joints felt fine, but my feet swelled so much the next day I was having pregnancy flashbacks.  When the swelling did not go down by the following day, I visited urgent care to check for stress fractures.  I gingerly hobbled to the exam table, ready to whine about my poor swollen feet.    Except that when the doctor came in, he was an amputee – he only had one foot.  So now I’m the asshole with two perfectly normal feet complaining to the doctor with only one foot how bad my self-inflicted foot pain is.  He was more patient than I deserved, confirming via x-ray that I had no stress fracture and sending me off with pain meds and a lecture not to run in bare feet.  This was after 13.1 miles. 

Excuse me, doctor, while I remove my swollen foot from my mouth.

My experiences have taught me that although boxing boosts my fitness level, it is not enough to prepare me for distance running without injury.  The only way to train for distance running is to run . . . long distances (I bet you’re glad you’re not paying for this blog).  I will not be able to limp through the last 18.2 miles of the marathon.  If I want to conquer 26.2, I must train.  So I chose a training plan that only makes me run three days a week.  It turns out SloJo is doing the same plan.  And I know she’ll do great because she already runs more regularly than me.  I currently box six days a week and sometimes run one or two.  Starting in October (it is a 16 week plan), I will transition to three days of running, three days of boxing, and one rest day.  Hopefully this will keep me both motivated and injury-free. 

Slo Jo: Interval training and loaded chips

Today’s Run: 6x800s (on treadmill)

Wine Consumption: 2 glasses at happy hour with A., Copain Pinot Noir, Anderson Valley, 2011

I’ve been reading this book, “Run Less, Run Faster.” Well, by reading, I mean I skipped to the chapter that detailed the three runs per week that are supposed to provide faster results through less training. This is a program developed by the Furman Institute of Running and Scientific Training (“FIRST”), that claims studies have proven more focused and fewer runs produce better results than endless miles pounding the pavement.

Sounds good to me. Less running? In.

(So that's what the cover looks like. After getting a Kindle, I never know anymore.)

I mentioned this program to Toe-Shoes Tina, and she said, to my surprise, we were doing the same training program. Who knew? We had independently discovered it. Both of us are trying to make time for other sports (me cycling, her boxing), so three runs/week is more palatable than five. Oh, and we both have day jobs. There’s a description of the marathon plan here: http://www.wu.ece.ufl.edu/marathon%20training-first%20marathon.pdf

Anyway, the first run of the week is supposed to be intervals, and there is a chart showing you how fast you should run your intervals depending on your typical 5k time and how long your intervals are. For me, called Slo Jo for a reason, I figured I needed 33 minutes for a 5K (I know--I’m doing my best), which translated into 10-minute 800-meter intervals. I decided that was too slow for my intervals and increased it to a breathless 9:30 pace. It was not TOO bad, especially because there are 90-second walk breaks in between and the intervals only took 4:45 each. I kept telling myself, “Just three more minutes. Two more minutes. You can run for 45 more seconds, you slacker.” And I did it on the treadmill at a 1% incline watching So You Think You Can Dance, which is better than running outside in Phoenix in 110 degrees. 

(Seriously. I watch these talented dancers and think, "Really? You can't run another quarter mile?")

I was cheating a bit because part of the idea is to pace yourself, and the treadmill does it for you. But if the FIRST people in South Carolina would like to come visit Phoenix in August, then they can be the first to criticize me.

(The reward for my efforts: lovely lovely wine.)

How was the wine, you ask? It was pretty good. They have wine on tap at Windsor. And we ordered something called “Loaded Chips.” I’m pretty sure they had zero calories. And that is one reason I run.

Slo Jo

Meet The Bloggers!

Slo Jo, who is usually found in her native environment (curled up with a book on a cozy couch sipping wine with multiple dogs around her)), recently discovered she is not getting any younger and decided to train for a half-marathon. Through the patience and support of her friends, plenty of pinot, and one asthma attack later, she persevered and finished her first half in San Diego this June. Slo Jo has reluctantly pursued her running through the hot summer months in Phoenix and is signed up for another half in November and the full marathon (the subject of this blog) in New Orleans in February. Slo Jo feels that if she can do it, anyone can do it. Or more to the point--if the people on the Biggest Loser can do it, surely she can, too

Toe-Shoes Tina has recently begun to not despise (maybe sometimes even enjoy) running after years of an on-again/off-again relationship with the sport.  She ran her first half marathon when her oldest child was seven months old.  Since then, Tina has had a second child and run three more half marathons, the last two in Vibram Five Fingers.  Tina struggles with an aversion to training runs because she very much prefers more aggressive exercise, like boxing, muay thai, soccer, and hockey.   While generally a fitness junkie, she has lacked the commitment to meaningfully train for a distance event.   Tina hopes the threat of public failure inherent in blogging will motivate her to adequately train for her first full marathon, the Rock n Roll New Orleans.  Knowing her weaknesses, Tina has chosen a training plan that requires only three runs per week, so she does not have to give up the martial arts she loves (all of her friends and family can tell you that she should not go more than a couple days without hitting a heavy bag).  She will also reward her training successes with plenty of wine along the way.

We look forward to sharing our training experiences with you!