Goal directed behavior. It's a psychological idea used, I think, to describe rats as they seek the ever-illusive lever. Til they figure out the darn lever actually gives them food. Then it's all over and gluttony prevails. To be honest, I did go to graduate school for psychology but I could be making all of that up. Anyway.....
So I've been doing this goal directed behavior stuff for quite a while now. No, I'm not referring to playing with rats (though I do own two hamsters, a bunny and a guinea pig). I mean really working towards something. And it's close. The anticipation, the idea that the culmination of this work is nearing. A while ago it was some far off idea, something that just popped into my head, almost laughable. More recently I thought seriously about it and began actually working towards it, though half-committed at best. And now that things are around the corner, I'm fully focused. Excited. Nervous. A bit worried. But generally positive about things to come.
By the way, if you have no idea what I'm writing about, I suggest you take a look at my previous essay on UltraRunning (link on right).
Onward!
This past weekend (July 18 or so) I finished the Lehigh River Run. Now truthfully, this is a relay: teams of five all run different legs. Except there's this small group of maybe 40 or so people who run the whole darn thing. About 23 miles. The Iron division. Pretty Cool. They treat us really well. I've done the race before. It's a trailway between Allentown PA and Easton PA, well marked, nice people and good times for all. This year it rained, which generally is a welcome relief to the heat. However, it kills your feet, turning them into some pruny biology suspended-in-animation specimen (see pic below, not quite sure why you'd want to see it, but it's there). I had about reached my running limit on my saturated socks and New Balance 707s. Any further would've required a change similar to the Nascar pits but somehow less exciting.
I don't really remember the first time I finished, it being 2 or 3 years ago. It was somewhere around 3hrs 45mins...nothing to design a t-shirt over. This year I finished in something like 3hrs 28mins. Still not going to make a t-shirt about it but a nice improvement
Perhaps my biggest running challenge is learning to take in calories and hydrate while I run. I've been...um...challenged by a rather sensitive stomach. So here's how I look at food before and during a run:
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Mark + pretty much any food + lots of bouncing and shaking due to running long distance = really bad stuff. If you can't conjure up the requisite imagery to interpret the 'really bad stuff' part then I'm not really sure I can help you.
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But taking in calories while running long distances is critical. Those who don't will eventually expend what they have and likely BONK or DNF (did not finish). Both are unpleasant experiences. On this particular run, I estimate that I burned between 2300 and 2500 calories. And over the course of those miles I took in 0 calories. Needless to say, at the end of the run I was feeling quite depleted though I was able to finish strong. At the finish I attacked anything with sugar, downing 40 ounces of powerade, 32 ounces of Gatorade and 3 slices of pizza. After I got home, I ordered general tso's chicken with pork fried rice (my post long run favorite) and an entire pint of Starbuck's Java Chip ice-cream. I'd say I made up the calorie deficit.
Problem is if I want to get any better at distances I have to work on this while I'm running and not simply gorge myself post-race. I was terrified. Seriously. Look at the equation above. I mean this is serious stuff. I tend to run in completely barren areas. Sure there's lots of wooded areas but it's not like there's an aid station just waiting for me to saunter by. But I knew I had to tackle this monster to run well and strong the entire time. And if I was ever to reach my August goal I'd have to figure this out.
Saturday, July 23 was the day. I decided I would make a serious effort to take in calories while I ran. I loaded up my camelbak with 4 granola bars and enough cash to order a couple pizzas and off I went. I wasn't really sure how far I was going. And with the Lehigh run 6 days behind me I didn't really know how my legs or feet would feel about my decision to go long.
First leg to Danville PA, about 8 miles. I stopped at a gas station to drop the kids off at the pool (figure it out) and purchased a mountain dew and a bottle of stupidly expensive what's-likely-from-the-tap water. I learned about Dew from some books - packs a lot of calories and gives you some needed sugar. I filled up my camelbak with the water, took a few swigs of dew and off I went. Not too brilliant on my part. See apparently soda is carbonated; I must've missed that memo. So about a mile later I had a hard-as-a-rock bottle of dew ready to pop its screw top. I stopped, uncorked the volcano and let it run all over my hand. What else could I do? I drank the remainder and continued running. Lesson learned: consume carbonated beverages before running.
So now I'm running to Catawissa PA on some absurdly unused road. I have an empty bottle of dew (I really don't like running with anything in my hands) and my nipple starts to hurt. The right one, to be exact. I thought I had properly lubed up with Body Glide pre-run but obviously I missed this guy. Now before you begin to think that I'm some sicko to bring this up, it's well known in running circles that nipples will readily chafe on garments, causing serious pain and sometimes bleeding. Just stand at the finish line of any marathon and you'll see people cross over with trickles of blood coming down the front of their shirt. It's from the nips. Let's move past this odd running quirk.
With more than half the run to go I needed to do something. I took off my tank and attempted to tie it around my waist. Too short. Plus the idea of running topless really doesn't appeal to me. I could see the reports on the news later that Saskwatch was spotted (I'm a bit hairy). So I took the washcloth I had tucked into my camelbak strap and tied the two tank shoulder pieces together so they formed one piece of fabric between my pecs. Probably looked like I just got off the set from To Wong Fu, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (I hope you know what this is otherwise the joke is lost). But it worked and since I was running in the middle of nowhere I figured I was safe.
About 12 or so miles in I decided to have my first food item. True I had taken in about 100 calories with the dew but I needed to really understand how things impact me. So I ate a granola bar. It was like chewing sand. I think when normal people chew they produce saliva and that sort of helps lubricate things so food goes down smoothly. Well apparently I didn't have any to spare. Must've sweated everything out. So I'd take a bite of the granola and then grab a mouthful of water and attempt to swallow this delicacy en-masse as if it were some type of super energy pill. Let's just say I'm done experimenting with granola and switching to gummi bears.
So I made it to Catawissa in decent shape. Ran off route to a gas station for more insanely-overpriced-water-that-I-could-get-for free-out-of-some-guy's-hose. Figured I'd give Gatorade a go. I like their commercials.
It's positively comical to approach the clerk's counter in running garb (which is just shy of full nudity), completely saturated with sweat (which includes rivers of the stuff pouring off your face) and attempt to hand over some form of payment. Without fail, clerks shrink back from your extended hand while sweat droplets fall on the counter. It's as if you're carrying some awful virus with no known cure. I smile but it doesn't really change anything. The clerk at the Catawissa sip-and-go said, quite insightfully, "...wow, you're really sweaty." Profound.
So I pounded the Gatorade (24 ounces). In between gulps I read the nutrition label - potassium, sodium, calories, sugar. Seemed good to me. I filled up my camelbak with water-that-should-come-in-a-gold-bottle and began walking back towards Bloomsburg. Once situated, I took off. Well my version of taking off.
I eventually worked my way back to Bloom and home. 26 miles overall. I'm not sure I learned a whole lot, except maybe the following:
1. Don't do really long runs unless you have a crew person (i.e. Kate). I mean if War of the Worlds was happening on my lawn I would consider hitting the road solo for a lengthy journey. But otherwise, I'd rather have someone who can check in with me every so often. If nothing else it breaks the monotony.
2. I'm leaving my phone at home. The only call I received was at the Danville gas station where I was in the commode doing my thing.
3. LUBE! Seriously this is totally important. I mean if you're out there, miles from home, not properly lubed and you start to have some friction....stick out your thumb and hope somebody nice comes along.
4. The first long run I did this season I think was April. It was sunny and I had ZERO SPF on. Nothing. Nada. I was running away from the sun so the backs of my legs and the top of my shaved head were fried. I felt funky all next day and called off from work. I now use SPF45, the only level stronger being a full body condom.
5. People look at me weird. Is it me? Have they never seen a runner before? Do I look that pathetic? Do they think I just escaped? It keeps things entertaining but I'm always wondering if someone's going to stop someday....
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A year ago, after long runs, I'd ask anyone within ear shot "...can someone please explain to me why I just did this?" I generally wasn't a pleasant person after crossing the line. But things are different now. I ran Lehigh and felt good the next day. Six days later I ran 26 miles and still felt decent. So we'll see how 60 miles feels. Somehow I doubt I'll be as chippur.
See you on the pavement.
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