Rambling Rev

On Sunday, May 5, 2013 I crossed the finish line of the Pittsburgh Marathon with a time of 4 hours, 42 minutes.  I was healthy and happy, with a huge life goal being accomplished.  Earlier that morning I stood in the starting corral, waiting for the gun to sound to begin the race.  Making it there was a marathon of a different sort.

In the spring of 2011, I ran the Poca River Run, a 15K race that winds through a local countryside over rolling hills.  It was the first race for me farther than a 5K.  Though a runner most of my life, I would usually do only a couple of miles at a time, never being consistent in my efforts and never following any kind of training plan.  My son and I ran the Poca River course the week of the race, and I was amazed I could run that far without stopping (though I was very sore at the end).  So a few days later, we ran the race itself, and though I struggled, I finished, slightly ahead of my son.  I was thrilled that I could do such a thing.  A week later I went back to Poca River to run the same distance, only to stop midway through the course with a pulled groin muscle.

My wife Jeannie and I have always enjoyed the TV series, “The Biggest Loser.”  While I was nursing my pulled groin muscle we watched an episode in which the contestants were challenged to run a marathon.  I thought, “If they can do it, I can do it.   I’ve wanted to get more serious about running for years.  There is no better time than the present.”  At 50 years of age I knew I would need some expert help, so I met with local, Christian running coach Matt Young and shared with him my plans.  He was enthusiastic, and agreed to work with me.  Our goal race was the Marshall Marathon in Huntington, West Virginia on the first Sunday of November 2011.

The training schedule got underway the first of July 2011.  I was vacationing with my wife, son and daughter-in-law in Myrtle Beach at the time, so the running began in considerable heat and humidity.  Things went well through September – I was getting all the mileage Coach Matt had prescribed in my training plan, and was excited about the race on the horizon in November.  I noticed that mid-September my legs were getting heavy and the miles were getting harder to cover.  I thought, “I’m 50 years old, and I’ve never trained for a marathon.  Some fatigue has to be normal.”  Coach Matt advised me to slow down my training pace so the miles would not be as demanding.  I continued with the runs, with the miles still being difficult to complete.

On Saturday, September 24 I started my prescribed long run of 16 miles.  I ran along MacCorkle Avenue in St. Albans, enjoying the view of the river.  All the runs were early morning, when the temperatures were cooler and the traffic was light.  Around mile 5 a car veered toward me, coming off the road and over to the shoulder.  I jumped from his path, and landed in a ditch which had been dug for a future bike lane.  I tried to start running again, but my ankle was aching and wouldn’t stop.  I hobbled home, only later to discover it was broken.  My first attempt at marathon training had come to an abrupt halt.

By the beginning of 2012, I was ready to make a comeback effort at running, so I trained for the University of Charleston half marathon.  Coach Matt gave me the plan, and I followed it diligently.  On April 29, I crossed the finish line with 1:55 on the clock, which was a very pleasant surprise for my first half marathon.  Still, the full marathon hadn’t been accomplished, and I was determined to achieve the goal.

After the UC half, Coach Matt put together another plan for me, this time combining training for the Charleston Distance Run on Labor Day weekend and for the Columbus Marathon in mid-October.  The training began on Memorial Day weekend.  Again, I covered all the mileage diligently, and did the extra hill drills and exercise Coach Matt had prescribed.  The summer was proving to be a very hot one.

On June 30, 2012 a derecho storm rolled through the area, knocking out power for several days.  Temperatures soared to 100 degrees the following week, and with no air conditioning the conditions were miserable.  Still, I trained every day of the plan, running in the early morning when the temperatures were not quite as warm.  By the latter part of July however, my legs were getting heavier with each run.  My quads seemed to be shutting down on me, and eventually it was difficult to run at all.  I had a mysterious soreness on the inside of my thighs.  Still, I stuck to the plan and soldiered through the mileage and the increasing pain.  On August 1, I started the prescribed run with even more stiffness, but was determined to force my uncooperative legs to run.  After the first half mile I felt a sharp pain in my left heel.  I stopped running and walked home.  I learned a few days later I had fractured my Calcaneus bone.  I was blessed to require only a walking boot rather than a non-weight bearing cast, but my running was finished for the season.  Several people asked me, “How in the world did you fracture your heel bone?”  It was a great question, one for which I wanted an answer as well.  Something wasn’t right.

I began wondering if I had some kind of problem that was causing frequent bone breaks.  After some tests, I learned that my Vitamin D count was good and that my bone density was normal.  I kept thinking about how lifeless my quads felt during the training, and how my inner thighs had ached.  I could find no answers.

One morning while I was still training Jeannie noticed a large, protruding vein on the back of my left calf.  It didn’t bother me, so I didn’t think more about it at the time.  After the heel fracture, I went to a vein doctor to see if he could correct it.  I certainly couldn’t run, so I might as well have the thing fixed.  He looked at the vein, agreed it was a problem, then told me he’d like to check my legs to see if I had any other circulation issues.  My Dad had severe varicose veins when he was in his late 30s, and had to have the great saphenous veins in both legs surgically removed.  I later learned the condition is genetic.  Upon doing ultrasound tests, the doctor discovered that the great saphenous veins in both my legs were four times larger than normal, and were not functioning as they should.  Even though there were no visible signs, much of the blood in my legs was not getting back to my heart because of the faulty valves in the veins.  The doctor informed me that the two saphenous veins would need to be closed.  When they were, the body would send the blood back to the heart by the many other healthy veins.  I was concerned about the diagnosis, thinking that the procedure would end my ability to run longer distances in general, and prevent me from achieving my lifetime goal of running a marathon.  He assured me that once the procedure was done and my legs had healed, I should be able to resume a very active lifestyle.  He also told me that I had likely had problems with my saphenous veins for a long time, with them growing progressively worse over the years.  It’s a fairly common ailment.

I had to wait a few months before the procedure would be covered by my insurance.  The insurance company insisted I try wearing compression stockings first, which only make the problem a little more bearable but never resolve it.  Finally the doctor was cleared to perform the procedure called a vein ablation.  A small laser catheter is inserted in the saphenous vein near the knee or ankle, and run all the way to the groin.  Then heat is applied as the catheter is pulled back down, causing the vein to close.  One leg is done in the doctor’s office on one day, then the second leg the next.  About a month of healing is required before running again, though walking can be done immediately.

The doctor performed the procedure on each of my legs in early November.  By mid-December the fractured heel had mended as well as the legs, and I was running short distances.  In talking with friends, I learned the Pittsburgh Marathon was scheduled for May 5, which would allow me an earlier date to accomplish my goal. I’d also be able to train in the winter, avoiding the heat and humidity that always accompany summer training.  I would rather bundle than broil any day.  Coach Matt worked with me on a plan.  By January 1, the plan was underway.  This time the training went smoothly.  The only struggle I had was with a few bitterly cold long runs.  The water in the bottles would freeze, and the gel packets were nearly impossible to squeeze with the cold, numb fingers that were under my heavy gloves.  I survived it however, not missing a single day.  There was a special sense of accomplishment as I passed the 16 mile mark in long runs, since that was the distance at which I had been injured previously.  Then I passed the 18 mile mark, then 20.  Soon the tapering had begun, and before I knew it I was driving to Pittsburgh.

I’m under no illusion that the surgery on my legs will prevent any future problems, but I do believe that poor circulation can make a person much more vulnerable to injury.  Without proper circulation, the legs can’t function well during a run, and can’t recover properly afterwards.  That’s why compression stockings are so popular during and after runs — they increase and enhance the circulation.

My greatest concern during all the training for Pittsburgh was injury – I did NOT want to get injured again.  I knew it was a risk I had to take however, so I carefully trained and did my best to allow sufficient time for recovery between runs.  There were no injuries, or anything even close to an injury during the training.  There weren’t any aching muscles – just running the plan.

Ironically, on the night before the marathon, Jeannie and I walked down the street from our hotel to get some dinner.  We then walked a few blocks farther to a special shop that was known for its delicious ice cream.  While walking along the street, I was gazing up at the tall buildings and some of the decorations in place for the next day’s event.  Talking, gawking, and not watching where I was going, I tripped on a curb and fell down on the sidewalk.  Thank the Lord I wasn’t injured, but it was a scare that prompted me to be even more careful until I reached the starting line the next day.  With God’s help, the patience and encouragement of my wife, and the supervision of a skilled running coach, after more than two years and three training attempts, I finally made it to the starting line of the Pittsburgh marathon.

Jeannie and I arrived at our hotel room late Saturday afternoon, May 4, after attending the marathon exposition at the David Lawrence Convention Center.  We had walked for about an hour at the expo, looking at all the running exhibits in wide-eyed fascination.  We had never seen this much running apparel together in one place in our entire lives!  After getting settled in the hotel room, we walked a few blocks to Panera Bread and had a light, early dinner.  We walked a couple more blocks to get some of the famous Dave and Andy’s ice cream – we realized we had a marathon to run the next day, but what better way to finish off the prep process than a bit of top-notch ice cream!  Jeannie had some unusual flavor of the real stuff, while I stuck with my tried-and-true vanilla yogurt.

After praying together, we got to bed about 9:30 p.m.  We were ready to go to sleep, and it didn’t take long to do so.  I had read about how first-time marathon runners don’t sleep the night before the race, but I did.  Well, at least that’s how it started.  Just before midnight some rowdy people in the room next door were talking and laughing so loudly that they awakened both of us.  I finally called the front desk and complained, and within a few minutes the noise had stopped.  I was awake however, and in my excitement for the upcoming race I never really got back to sleep.  The alarm was set for 4:30 a.m., but I saw it hit 4:29 and turned it off.   Jeannie was awake as well, so we got started with our pre-planned routine.  All the clothes we needed for the race were put together in one place before we went to bed. So all we had to do was eat a quick breakfast, get dressed and to do the bathroom thing, then catch the 5:00 a.m. hotel shuttle to downtown Pittsburgh.  The shuttles left at 5:00 a.m. and at 6:00 a.m., but with most of the streets being closed and the race starting at 7:00 a.m., we didn’t want to cut it too close.

We arrived in downtown Pittsburgh about 5:15 a.m., and walked a few blocks to find our starting corrals.  There were 30,000 people who had registered for the half or the full marathon, so five corrals were used to group the participants together.  The corrals were designated A-E, with A for the fastest runners and E for the slowest.  I was assigned corral C.  Jeannie and I sat for nearly an hour, then prayed together again, and went to our corrals.  At 7:00 a.m. the gun sounded, and looking ahead of me, I could see corral A starting the race.  My corral walked forward, B began, and then we walked to take the starting spot.  A couple of minutes later we were off.  The sun was beginning to rise on downtown Pittsburgh – it was a gorgeous morning with the temperature around 50 degrees.

Mile 1 through 5 was spent getting settled into the run, warming up my legs and finding my rhythm.  I stopped quickly at the first fluid station and filled the two water bottles of my hydration belt. This section of the course crossed three bridges, and with the morning sun shining on the city, it was simply beautiful.  I was taking it slow at first, remembering Coach Matt’s advice to “start slow and finish strong.”  At the end of mile five I used my first gel – I needed it more than I thought due to the lack of sleep and the length of time between eating breakfast and starting the race.  My plan was to have one gel every five miles and drink plenty of Gatorade at the fluid stations.  In my thinking, that should be enough fuel to get me to the finish.  If I became really weak, I could always squeeze another gel.

Mile 6 through 11 was the easiest stretch of the race.  I was averaging about a 9:30 pace, and enjoying the cheering spectators along the course and gazing at the sun-drenched scenery.  We were running along the river, and the temperature was still nice and cool.  As we approached the Birmingham Bridge the course split, with the half-marathoners going to the left and the full-marathoners to the right.  After crossing the bridge, the half course went west on the Boulevard of the Allies.  The full course went east on Forbes Avenue toward the campus of Pitt University.  We had reached the beginning of mile 12.

Course elevation chart

Mile 12 through 19 was where I was most upbeat about the whole race, even though the hills were seemingly non-stop.  Mile 12 was Forbes Avenue, which was a long, steep incline approximately a mile and a half in length.  There was one lone, older lady near the top of the hill who was shouting to us, “The top is just around the corner!”  She gets my prize for the most strategic encouragement – there weren’t many onlookers in that section, but she was there, and she made a huge difference for me and other runners.  At the top there was a brief pause, only to be followed by another hill.  The course was rolling hills for the next several miles, with the elevation continuing to increase overall.  I slowed down my pace on the hills as Coach Matt had instructed me, so that I would have enough energy to make it to the end.  Still, I didn’t stop running.  I feel very positive about this section of the course, that despite the relentless hills ascending ever higher, I kept running.  Shortly before mile 14 I took my one and only potty break – my bladder was grateful!  I had no stomach issues on this race, which is another thing for which I am extremely thankful.  On this section of the course I continued to enjoy spectators, smiling at them, slapping hands, and occasionally commenting on one of the many motivational signs.  I also started talking with a young relay runner named Kelly who was probably in her late 20s.  She commented that she is a Biology teacher, and then shared all about her family, how her father and mother both run, and how her husband was being very supportive of all them after he had suffered a torn ACL.  I told her about my wife who was running the half, my son who lived near Washington PA, and my daughter-in-law Amy who is an elementary school teacher.  She asked me, “Is this your first marathon?”  “Yes,” I responded.  “Will it be your last?”  she followed.  “Probably not,” I said, thinking that was an odd question to ask around mile 20.  After talking a while Kelly pulled ahead of me.  After a few minutes I caught up with her as she had stopped to walk.  We talked three or four times total – it helps when there is someone with whom to chat.

Mile 20 through 26.2 started well.   As my Garmin showed 20 miles, Kelly was there for the last time and I remarked confidently, “I’m going to see just how tough this 20 mile wall is!”  She didn’t respond.  I stopped at a fluid station to refill both water bottles once again.  I was encouraged by the thought that the last 4.5 miles of the course were downhill, so it should be easier for me to finish.  For miles 20 and 21 there were even more rolling hills, and I started feeling like running uphill was easier than running downhill.  By mile 22 the course was definitely on a decline.  What should have been a welcome development for me turned into the greatest challenge of all.  The more I ran downhill, the more my hips began to ache.  My shoulders had been sore for several miles, but that was fairly easy to remedy by stretching, folding and flexing my arms.  There was nothing I could do to deal with the hip pain, and the more I ran the worse it became.  At that time I would have given $20 or more for a couple of Motrin to lessen the pain so I could reach the finish line. Unfortunately, there was no aid station nearby, and I only had two energy gels in my waist pack.  For the first time in the entire race, I stopped and walked downhill in order to ease the pain.  As the pain decreased I started running downhill again, then stopped to walk when it became too great.  There was another rolling hill near mile 24, so I gladly ran up the hill, since it only hurt to run downhill.  Then there was another downhill section, so with the pain I walked a bit more.  I started walking with two guys who were a little younger than me, but also walking.  I said, “Man, I could do okay if my hips would stop hurting!”  One of them replied, “Everything in my body is hurting!”  The other one said, “Yeah, my stomach would be doing better if I didn’t drink the free beer I got back there!”  As the pain eased I started running again.  At mile 25 the downtown portion of the city was in sight.  “Only a mile and a half, surely I can run another mile and a half.”  My hips were starting to ache on the flats now, and my energy was pretty much spent.  I popped another gel, hoping it would help a little.  I had seen a fire hydrant set to sprinkle on the street a mile or so earlier, and had the muddled thought, “I can’t run through the water – it will screw up my Garmin!”  Now I saw another one that was also sprinkling on the street to refresh the runners if they wanted to run through it.  This time my mind was a little clearer, and I thought, “The sprinkler is the same thing as rain – your Garmin will be fine.”   When the cold water hit me, it was like a breath of fresh air.  I kept running toward the city, and nearer to the finish line.  I kept running through the downtown section, where crowds were cheering the racers as they neared the finish line.  I saw flags in the distance, and even though I was exhausted, with the flags in sight I kept running and ignored the hip pain.  Finally I reached the flags and saw they were at a street corner.  I rounded the corner, expecting to see the finish line.  It was nowhere in sight.  I stopped to walk again – I was crushed.  After a few steps someone shouted, “It’s only 400 yards ahead – keep running!”  I started running again, and after topping another small hill, I could see the real finish line ahead of me.  I crossed the line with the timer displaying 4 hours, 42 minutes.  I hoped initially for a much better time, but my overall goal was to finish without injury, and happy.  Through the strength and provision of my Lord Jesus, at age 52 I met that goal and finished my first full marathon.  I walked through the finishing chute in somewhat of a daze, accepted my medal, and then was greeted with a huge smile and hug from my dear wife Jeannie.  She exclaimed, “I am so proud of you – you did it!”  Yes praise the Lord — I did it!

The cast is off the ankle, and I’m able to walk without a limp.  The break is healing well, and I’m definitely on the road to recovery. For the past two weeks I’ve been trying to run, but have been uncertain as to how hard I should push myself.  The last thing I want is to have a relapse.  So far I’ve been doing well, running five miles last Friday just a little slower than my usual time.  The ankle was sore afterwards however, so I was concerned about exactly how I should resume running.  I contacted my running coach, Matt Young, and he graciously provided me with a comeback plan that began today.

The plan covers eight weeks, with running times gradually increasing each week.  Monday and Wednesday of this week I do four repetitions of five minutes running, two minutes walking.  On Saturday I do five reps of the same times.  Next week the intervals increase to four reps of seven minutes running, two minutes walking, with five reps on Saturday.  By the end of the plan, I’ll be running for an hour, then racing in the 10K winter series in early February.  Matt helped me reach 14 miles of non-stop running in the marathon training, a distance I had never achieved in my life.  I have confidence in his gradual, conservative comeback plan.  Even though the cast is off the ankle and I can run, there is only so much I should run until the healing is complete.

On the days I’m not running, I’ll be doing cardiovascular cross-training on the elliptical trainer or the stationary bike.  Fridays and Sundays will be rest days, with the exception of the two winter series Sunday afternoon races in January and February.  My goal for the coming year is to complete a full marathon, barring any more freak accidents!

Someone may think, “Why in the world do you want to do all this stuff?”  The answer is because I enjoy it!  It keeps me in shape, and I especially savor the worship time on the long runs.

There are only 29 days left to go now of wearing this ankle cast.  Unless of course, the doctor decides I need to be casted longer after my return visit next month.  My biggest struggle so far has been with these dang crutches!

I’ve already been online looking for some kind of alternative to traditional crutches, and there isn’t anything that doesn’t cost a fortune or wouldn’t be just as much of an aggravation.  The last time I used crutches was in college, and that was only for a few days while my ankle (can’t remember which one) was wrapped in an Ace bandage.  I had turned it playing basketball, and had to fly back to college 1,000 miles from home on a set of crutches.  My mother cried when I got on the plane with the dang things.  Of course, my mother always cried.  Always.

Anyway, when I first started using these crutches I thought, “How in the world am I going to carry anything?”  I’m always carrying something from one point of the house to another, and then to the car, to some other destination, etc.  It’s amazing how many things I transport during the course of one day without even realizing it!  What in the world am I going to do?  Will I have to resort to asking someone to carry things for me a gazillion times a day?  Then it dawned on me:  I have a backpack!  I immediately hooked into the shoulder straps and was in business.  Now I can carry bottles of water, my iPhone, books, laundry, etc.  All kinds of things will fit into it.  My backpack is my friend.

So far I’ve managed to do all sort of cool stuff in the 24 hours I’ve been plagued with these wooden devices of torture.  I’ve taken them with me in the car and made my way into a local drugstore looking for a better model.  Go figure.  I spend all sorts of energy to go to a store trying to reinvent the wheel.  No success.  Then I go to the church and make my way up the steps to my study, just to prove to myself I could.  I then navigated across the church building and down more stairs to get ready for a Bible study tonight.  Even though there was no else in the building and I will have plenty of help for this evening, I had to prove to myself I could do it alone.  Then I came back up the stairs I went down, return to my office, and plop down in my chair with perspiration beading on my forehead.  Have I had enough of this self-inflicted hardship?  No way — I’m sweating for the first time since I’ve been injured!  It’s a workout, so I savor it, catch my breath, then make my way back down the steps, through the outer door, across the walkway in the rain, to my vehicle.

On the way home I thought about stopping at the grocery store as I would normally do, but didn’t have the nerve to use one of the motorized shopping carts.  At least I didn’t have the nerve yet.  I’ll probably do it in the next couple of days, because grocery shopping has been one things I do to contribute to household chores.  I am determined to do my share of the work regardless.

Upon arriving home, being as tired as I was, I fell down upon the bed and drifted to sleep with my iPhone on silent.

Of course, while I am dreaming of life without my two new constant companions, my dear wife tried to call me.  When I didn’t answer she feared the worst, envisioning me unconscious in a mangled heap at the bottom of a flight of stairs with crutches on top of me. I finally returned her call and all is well.  I should say all is well until it comes time for the second shower ordeal tonight.  Did you ever try to take a shower with a cast on your leg without getting the cast wet?    Did you ever try to step into a shower while wearing a cast?  Did you ever try to do it alone? It’s not a pretty picture, so I’ll spare you the details in this public blog.  I could just take a sponge bath, but that would be too easy.  Besides, there is nothing quite like a hot shower, even if there is a plastic bag tightly tied to one leg.

For the time being I’m pretty content in my home office chair, but two sentries are right here by my side.  They remind me that when I rise from my comfort, the fun starts all over again.  The maneuvering, the juggling, the navigating through doorways and around furniture until I reach my destination.  Then once I get there, the question comes to mind once again, “What am I going to do with these dang crutches?”

It’s been some time since my last post on running.  I’d been waiting to see how my present situation develops before writing anything here.  Today was the defining moment after more than three weeks of wondering, “Will I still run the Marshall Marathon?  Will the problem with my ankle be less than what I think it is?”  Everything came together today.  First however, I’ll start at the beginning of this latest chapter in my newly acquired passion for running.

On Saturday morning, September 24, I was beginning my long run of 16 miles to top off my mileage for the week.  The marathon training plan had been going beautifully since the first of July.  A little over one month away was the November 6 Marshall Marathon.  I’d already run the equivalent of one or two half marathons in training, so the full was beckoning me.  I started my run early to avoid traffic.  I also enjoy running before daylight, then watching the sun rise.  As I jogged up a highway that was often a part of my route, an oncoming car veered from his lane and headed toward me.  I sidestepped abruptly down, off the shoulder of the road, then continued my run after the car had passed.  A half a mile later I had to stop running due to severe pain in my ankle.  I tried massaging it, stretching it, nothing helped.  I walked home and was angry over what seemed to be another injury.

My first running-related injury was in the spring with a pulled-groin muscle.  Then I was doing everything wrong.  I was over striding and over training, being very passionate about my renewed interest in running and allowing my zeal to get the best of me.   Injury was inevitable then, and with the time I had off I was determined to train smarter.  I found a running coach to work with me, read about proper running form, and when I was able started with a modest training schedule.  There would be no more than a 10% increase in mileage each week.  Over a four month period, I would train and prepare for a full marathon.

For three months I couldn’t have asked for a better experience with training — no injuries, no aches or pain, no problems at all.   After finishing a 14 mile long run, I showered and tackled the rest of the day.  There was no extreme fatigue, because my coach was doing his job and the training plan was working beautifully.

Then with a car veering my direction and quick sidestep off the shoulder of the road, all the training came to a halt.  Two days later I had the ankle x-rayed, but no breaks were evident.  I followed the RICE treatment as most coaches advise — Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation.  The ankle got worse, not better.  Twice I tried running again, but was only able to take a few steps.  Soon I started walking with a definite limp as the pain increased.  After consulting with a foot/ankle doctor, an MRI was ordered.  When the report was received, I was told I had a fractured tibia and a torn or detached tendon.  I was referred to an orthopedic surgeon, who reviewed my MRI images and informed me I had two fractures, one in the tibia and one in the talis.  He said I would need to wear a non-weight bearing cast for a month.

So today, I received a cast for the first broken bones in my life of 51 years.

There are a lot of lessons I’m learning about life from this freak accident — perhaps the main one is who I am in Christ.  The thing that most defines me is not my ability to run or physical fitness — those things can come and go.  What defines me is who I am in Jesus Christ, what He has done in my life and what He continues to do.  I am a Christian first and foremost — everything else is secondary.

Will I run again after this ankle is healed?  Probably, but only time will tell.  I definitely will be doing something to take care of the body God has entrusted to me.  When it comes to running however, I’ve learned that there simply are no guarantees against injury.  A person can do all the right things and still be sidelined.

The only guarantee I have is that One who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:6).  He’ll do it in His time, and in His way.  I am confident His way is always best, that He will take all things in my life and work them together for His glory and for my good (Romans 8:28).

(If you’ve subscribed to my blog and you’re not interested in running, you can skip this post.  Other than that sort of thing, there’s nothing to see here.)

When it comes to running, I am on the road again!  The groin injury has been healed for some time now.  On July 5 I started a training routine in preparation for the Marshall Marathon on November 6.

During the month of June while I wasn’t running, I contacted Matt Young, a running coach here in the area.  He agreed to work with me, helping me to prepare for a major race and improve my form in the process.  The full Charleston Distance Run isn’t going to happen for me this year — there are too many hills in that race and too few days to train after my recovery.  It will be a good goal for 2012.  This year, my focus will be on the 26.2 mile race in Huntington, which is much flatter than the CDR.

One of the first things Matt recommended was that I make sure I wasn’t heel-striking and over-striding.  By the look of the bottom of my shoes and the injury to my groin, it was very likely I’d been doing both!  At his advice I purchased a new pair of Newton running shoes that encourage a mid-foot strike.  I also started working on increasing my cadence and shortening my stride.  At first there wasn’t much I could do other than hobble for several steps — things were much too painful to run any distance.  Gradually however, I was able to start running shorter distances again with an improved form.

I also read a couple of fascinating books, Born to Run by Christopher McDougall and Chi Running by Danny and Katherine Dryer.  Both of them stressed the importance of natural form.  Natural Running by Danny Abshire, the founder of Newton Running, was a third book on the same topic, and offered more practical advice on how to make the transition.

About the same time, Josh, Amy, Jeannie and I all took a trip to the beach on July 9.  Naturally, we spent a lot of time resting and a bit of time in the ocean.  The waves felt great on the leg muscles that were mending. It was very hot and humid, but I managed to get up early and run outdoors a few mornings before the heat was unbearable.  That week at the beach started a new routine for me, because now I get up four days a week at 5:00 a.m. or so and hit the road for my run.  I could sleep later of course, but then I’d have to deal with the heat.  I’d rather just go earlier, enjoy cooler temperatures, deal with less traffic on the roads, and have the run finished for the day.

Jeannie has been super in encouraging me in this new found hobby — she doesn’t even complain (much) if I awaken her when leaving the house so early.  Another source of encouragement has been the dailymile website.  The easiest way to describe it is a “facebook for athletes.”  I log my runs there, my crosstraining classes, and then give and receive encouragement from others who are pursuing similar goals.

Perhaps the best benefit of this whole running thing, in addition to the improved physical condition, is the extended time I have of worship.  I always take my headphones and iPod with me, listening to Christian music.  Its not uncommon for me to be running down a street playing an “air piano” with Keith Green or raising my hands in praise with Chris Tomlin.

We’ll see where all this running leads — I’m excited about the prospect of completing a full marathon in November.  If the training continues to go as well as it has, the distance shouldn’t be a problem.  I’m slowly but surely increasing my mileage each week so I’ll be ready when the race time arrives.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne” (Hebrews 12:1-2 NLT).

I should have seen it coming.  My wife has always said I am hard-headed, and finally I may be ready to concede her point.  I have enough common sense not to push a 50-year-old body past its limits, except when I am passionately pursuing a reborn love of running.  It probably began two weeks ago, when my son and I decided to run the 9.3 mile course of the Poca River Run on a Monday in preparation for the actual race on Saturday.  As a result of the training I had been doing for the Charleston Distance Run, I breezed through it.  I was exhilarated at setting a new personal record!  So then despite my body telling me of a well-deserved rest, I pushed through my usual training routine for the next week.  I was coming down with a cold by the time the race date arrived, so the run was much more of a struggle than it had been a few days earlier.  After only one day of rest however, I started pounding the routine again.   Jeannie and I left on a Thursday afternoon for a trip to Louisville, but before 7:30 a.m. that morning I had completed a full boot camp class and a three mile run on the treadmill.   We returned from Louisville the next day, and as soon as we arrived home I headed for the gym and did a fast tempo run of four miles on the treadmill.  My body was screaming in protest from fatigue and from stiffness from the long car ride, but I persisted.  The next afternoon I was scheduled to do a six mile run, but instead of merely sticking with the plan I went nearly ten miles.  By the end of the course I was barely able to run at all due to exhaustion, then noticed severe groin pain when I exited the car after the short drive home.  I could hardly walk.  I recovered a bit the remainder of the evening, and masked the discomfort the next day despite a busy Sunday at church.  On Monday morning I was back on the treadmill, doggedly walking my five scheduled miles since I couldn’t run without intense pain.  I did have the common sense to email my trainer about the situation.  Her reply brought me back to reality — “no physical activity at all for the next two days, then do some light rowing and stationery biking on Thursday and Saturday.  What your body needs right now is rest, rest, rest.”  She would then tell me what to do next based on how my body is healing.  So I am off my feet following orders, typing this blog post rather than doing something more active.

There are a lot of lessons to be learned with running — a big one for me is patience.  I saw progress with the first couple weeks of training, but rather than being content with the results I wanted to supercharge things and move even faster in my desired direction.  Now I am sidelined, feeling foolish for doing what I know I shouldn’t have done.  Next time I’ll know better, that is, if this incident has managed to make its way through the thick, hard-headed noggin that my wife insists I possess.

It’s been some time since I’ve written anything on this blog, but a lot has been happening in my life.  One of the most significant things since the last post has been my renewed interest in running.  I’ve always dabbled in it, but lately am getting serious about it.  It all goes back to my days at Oral Roberts University, where each student was required to earn a particular number of “aerobic points” each semester.  If the aerobic points weren’t there, there was no progressing forward to the next semester.  They took physical fitness seriously, so it was drilled into my brain the four years I was there.  Running was the most time efficient way to earn aerobic points, so I ran.  Over the years, I’ve never really stopped running, I’ve just taken extended breaks from it.

For the longest time one of the main reasons I would run is so I could eat whatever I wanted and not get fat.  So I would run regularly and fill my body with junk at the same time.  Had I known then what I know now about nutrition, I would have done things far differently.  Anyway, I finally started eating right, and since running was so time consuming, I just settled for a couple of trips to the gym each week.  Two or three trips to the gym each week to do some sort of class was the norm for me until a couple of months ago.

One of my friends who is a pastor had gotten into running, and it really inspired me to reconsider it.  I tried running behind the local high school, just a mile or two, and it was tough after my latest extended break.  Then the winter of 2011 hit, which was very cold and snowy here in West Virginia.  In February Jeannie and I went on a mission trip to Russia, which made the weather here seem tropical in comparison.  Sub-zero temperatures,  stiff winds, sheets of ice everywhere and two feet of snow all chilled me to the bone.  When we returned home and spring arrived, I was more than ready to be outdoors.  Running was the natural thing to do.

My sights are now set on training for the Charleston Distance Run, the big fifteen mile one.  The one with the steep incline up Corridor G and then through South Hills.  The one that sharply descends back into Charleston on Bridge Road then winds through the city streets for another 10 miles or so.  It’s a big challenge, and I’ve always wanted to tackle it.  At 50 years old I’m starting to think about things on my “bucket list.”  So I’ve consulted a trainer and have an 18 week plan to prepare for the CDR.  Even though the CDR is on my bucket list, I want to make sure I don’t kick the bucket doing it!  I’ve just finished week 2 of the training plan, which is so far going very well.

After the 2011 SGK event in Charleston, WV

Last weekend Jeannie and I went to the Susan G. Komen event in Charleston.  I ran the 5K, and had no problems with it — it was a lot of fun.   This past Monday I met Josh near his home in Poca and ran the course for the Poca River Run.  It is 9.3 miles, and I covered all of it without stopping once!  My average pace was under a ten minute mile. so I felt pretty positive about it.  This morning Josh and I ran the actual Poca River Run Race, and it was much tougher for me.  Due to a cold and the excitement of running in a longer event, I lost my pace after seven miles or so.  Still, my time was better than the trial run on Monday.

The main thing I enjoy about the longer distance running is the music.  I put on the headphones, beginning listening to contemporary Christian music, and am freed to enjoy my own private time of worship with my Lord.  In that frame of mind the running becomes more like a act of service to Him.  It’s a great, renewing experience.

We’ll see what the future holds — next Monday I start week 3 of training for the CDR.  At week 7 I begin running through South Hills during the early morning hours.  That should be fun   Once the CDR is finished, I’d like to participate in a full 26.2 marathon.  If the folks on the Biggest Loser can do it, I should be able to do it!  I don’t know of any full marathons in West Virginia, but there are a few in Kentucky and Ohio.