Rolling Hills and 10 Miles To Boot

Recovering from my run from the previous Saturday took a little more time then anticipated; by Wednesday though I was back in action and ready for our midweek practice. This mid-weeker was different from the rest... we were running our timed mile again, and were destined to see improvement. After a light 2-mile warm up, we lined up and flew out of the gates. I rolled out a moderate pace in the beginning and then kicked it up at about half way. I caught up to our assistant coach Cole and finished the mile just behind him. As I crossed the 1-mile mark I anxiously looked at my watch and caught the glimpse of 6:47.35. “HOLY CRAP!” I thought “I just dropped into the 6 minute realm." I savored the flavor of this tasty victory, and let it roll off my tongue every chance I got throughout the week.

My mid-week victory had me primed and ready to take on our 10 mile run on Saturday. This Saturday was a fairly monumental run, because it marked the return of the Great Jamie Moniz back to the running circuit. Back from her month long hiatus, Jamie was geared up and ready to tear into some asphalt. This was a big day for her as she was running an astounding 5 miles on her inaugural run back from the injury list. YEAH BABY!!

The cool morning air of Porter Ranch welcomed the eager faces of our running team. There was a slightly higher intensity amongst the group then normal. We were all aware that 10 miles was in our future today, and that the course would take use through a constant barrage of rolling hills. Our stretching seemed to have more intent on this day; each stretch was held to its regimented time and no single stretch was left to chance – our bodies were about to get hammered and we had to be ready.

The run started off with pace groups leaving at different times. The slower groups left first followed by the faster groups. The course opened up with a mild downhill slope that lured its guests into a sense of ease. I took the pace slow, knowing that I had to conserve my energy for the deepest end of this trek. From the start I was experiencing a sense of nausea that was hindering my spirit. Most of my mental energy was consequently devoted to overcoming this sensation in the first five miles.

At about a mile and a half into the run, and just when I had tackled my first hill, Cole (our assistant coach) intercepted me and took me back down to the bottom of the hill to give me some tutelage on downhill and uphill running techniques. This I was not enthused about; not only did I get separated from my pace group, but I had to run up the hill I just ran up. The techniques he showed me worked for me, so I kneaded them into my running strategy throughout the rest of my run.

Water stations were every two miles, and reaching them was always a lift in my spirits. A splash of something cold to drink and some words of encouragement was enough to keep my drive going. The course was relentless though; at every turn it seemed like we were either climbing a hill or descending one. The miles seemed long and arduous, and my one minute breaks too short to remember. I was pushing my body harder then ever and I could feel it beginning to take its toll. As I ascended the hill to the final water station, pain was settling into to my ankles, shins and calves. This was not good, I now had to dig deep and claw my way past the pain demons; I had two and half miles to go and I was not about to break down.

I hit the final water stop and my gorgeous wife Jamie was there resting after completing here five miles. Seeing her really lifted my spirits. I slammed a carbohydrate gel, threw a slug of water down my throat and took off. This was the home stretch - just two miles to go. My enthusiasm did not last long and at about a mile out I had my first break down. This was a rough blow, as it was the first time I could not complete my 8 minute to 1 minute regimen. I didn’t let it last long though. I literally slapped myself in the face, and told myself “this was it, this was the final stretch, YOU CAN DO IT!” My legs were somehow inspired by this grand speech and jumped into action.

I rounded the bend to my final mile (and hill) and saw my pace group just ahead of me. Seeing them gave me a huge boost of energy, and I took off up the hill. I saw myself closing in on them and it felt good. I crossed the finish line just behind them and with great satisfaction. I had endured 10 miles of hills, and was still in relatively good shape. I took in some water, carbs and a round of high fives… all the nutrition a training runner needs.

Try and keep up with me...

Nonstop Action

Dragging myself out of bed on this holiday weekend was pretty rough. Fortunately I didn’t listen to the devil on my shoulder and drink booze with my barbeque the day before. I was pretty energized though and eager to take on our new distance of 8 miles.

Our run started off like previous runs with runners sifting into their respective running groups. Today I found myself running with our assistant coach Cole. My running regimen to date has been run 8 minutes walk 1 minute, but today Cole had it in his mind to change this plan. Upon stopping for my usual one minute walk he lit the fire under my ass and said that this was no longer my strategy… I was one of the strongest runners on the team and I was to run NONSTOP for now on. While his savory compliments fed my ego for the time being, I did feel deep down that the occasional one minute walk would ultimately prevent injury. I pressed on though.

As I made my way through the deeper mileage, I could feel my body starting to fatigue prematurely. Pain had set in - a maddening pain that resonated throughout my entire running system. I was up against the wall, and the demons in my head were rearing there nasty voices. I now had to find it deep within in myself to forge ahead and finish out the last few miles.

I hit the water stand and splashed some cold something down my throat. The final two miles were ahead of me and I was ready to kick my own ass. I found my zone, narrowly squeezing out my demons, and hit the path hard. My pain started to subside and I was able to yank myself back into the game. As I neared what I deemed the ‘final stretch’ our coach Brett met up with me to bring in the last mile.

I crossed the finish line with an uncertain sense of accomplishment. I had run 8 miles nonstop, but I didn’t feel good about it. I felt deep down that my overall run suffered. I fatigued way too early in my run, which led to a significant decrease in my pace. I did like running longer in between breaks though. Hmmmm?.. something to work on I guess.

Hanging out at the finish line and bringing our team in with clapping and cheering was a good end to my run. Our team is starting to get pretty tight with each other, and more people are jumping in to offer encouragement to others. I think the longer distances are sparking a bit of comradery in our team.

All for now. Try and keep up.

Back to the Hills and Parents Afoot

Another early Saturday morning brought a new course to my feet and a new sense of motivation. This time our run was to be on the slopes of the Santa Monica Mountains, and my mom and DAD were in town to witness it all. The 6:30 meeting time was a bit rough for me because my body did not want to fall asleep til about 12:30 the night before. Fortunately the excitement of my parents being in town and getting back to running on some hills was enough to drag me out of bed in the morning. Once up my body struggled to keep up with my enthusiasm; so slapped myself around a bit and chugged some water. After fueling my body with peanut butter toast and a peach, it was just a matter of jumping into my shoes and blowing out the door.

At our meeting spot we shuffled through our usual stretch routine, and then took a small hike up to our starting point. Today, because we were running 6 miles, we were required to wear a waterbelt (basically a belt that holds a water bottle). As soon as we took off my waterbelt made itself known by sliding off my waste and to my knees, a frustrating start to a much anticipated run. As the group scurried ahead, I was stuck feverishly fussing with my belt. Fortunately Coach Brett found me and gave me the tip to wear it across my chest commando style. I slung it on and took off.

My position at the back of the pack was not discouraging to me. I knew that if I remained steadfast I would be able to catch my pace group. I am used to running on hills, so I knew to ratchet back my pace to about 75%; this gave me the energy to run consistently through the whole course. Little by little I inched my way through the pack. As much as I could I gave each of my teammates a “Go Team!”. The closer I got to the front, the more spaced out runners became. "Where was Eloy", I thought. No sooner had that thought crossed my mind, than I saw Eloy on the horizon. With the top of the hill far into the distance I eagerly confirmed to myself that I did it - I caught my pace group.

It was not long before I caught up and eventually passed my pace group. I made it to the top of the path and climbed the stairs to the top of the missile platform. Yeah missile platform. At the top of the hill were the relics of a Nike Missile platform (cold war stuff). Quite a view. I hung out up there for about five minutes throwin out high fives and drinking down water.

The moment hit me and I bolted. Down the hill I went with an ever so slow and dainty pace. I think my pace downhill rivaled in slowness to that of my uphill pace. Downhill is not my favorite because it is way harder on the joints. I took it slow and easy, bursting into faster paces when I could. I hit the final stretch of the course with an ear to ear grin… UPHILL!! I took this hill with a fierce assault, giving it my all and with great pleasure.

My finish line could not have been better. Both Jamie and my parents were there cheering me on as I came running in. Seeing their faces and hearing their enthusiasm was an incredible moment for me. I am so lucky to have such a supportive family. I felt very proud of what I was doing, and to have my dad there to witness it and cheer me on meant the world to me.

Try and keep up with me.

A Week to Heal

My run last Monday was quite possibly my most challenging to date. It was a hot summer afternoon in the Valley and my rest the night before left much to be desired. I had also been experiencing some pain in my ankles from the Saturday morning run. Add to all this the fact that I neglected to hydrate myself before my run and I was set for some serious mental training.

As I started my run, I was immediately greeted with my new nemesis… ANKLE PAIN. The pain swelled to something fierce in the first mile, and it was all that I could do to keep my feet chasing after each other. I thrusted myself through the first mile and began to feel a bit of relief from the pain - though it was still there my attention instinctively turned to the dust bowl that was my mouth. Fatigue, lack of water and pain were taking there toll on me as pushed through miles two and three. I wrapped up my run with a final half mile sprint to the local 7-Eleven, where I found myself chugging an ice cold water in front an open cooler; a true moment of bliss that I will not soon forget.

The pain that soon came after the completion of this revelatious run was of significant concern to me. As I sat with ankles wrapped in bags of frozen pees, I contemplated my training schedule for the next week - I want to go to every practice to keep up, but I also want to complete the marathon injury free. My trainer always said listen to your body. And listen I did - when it came time for our midweek run, I got over halfway to our meeting spot and decided to turn around. It was a tough decision, but the right one I feel. Though I have a strong will power, I refuse to let my ego get the best of me.

I ended up taking the remainder of the week off from practice, even missing the 5 mile run on Saturday (which I really wanted to do). Instead, Jamie and I spent Saturday through Tuesday celebrating our 2-year wedding anniversary. We went wine tasting in the Santa Barbara wine country, soaked in mineral springs (ooooooh did this feel good on my beat to hell body) and braved the elements with a night of beach camping in Jalama Beach (which turned out to be a crazy story; ask me about it, I can't post it).

The week off significantly improved my ankles, and I was able to join my fellow runners back on the path for a midweek 4-miler. Although I may be a scoatch behind, I think I prevented a longer hiatus.

Try and keep up with me.

Coagulating Runners

Our team is starting to settle into its groove. Now that we are each establishing a comfortable running pace, runners are coagulating into smaller pace groups (assigned by our coach Brett, based on our 1 mile time). There are three runners in my group; me, Eloy and someone I have yet to meet. We are the second group back from the lead group (which consists of just one runner), so we’re not looking too bad.

Our run began with the usual stretching routine. The pace of this routine seems to getting quicker; probably due to a combination of us knowing the routine and that we want to get running before the blistering heat sets in. The run started out fairly chaotic as runners scurried about locating their respective pace groups. I immediately found Eloy and we headed out to the front of the pack.

As we took off, the heat of the day was beginning to set in. I could feel the warm air oozing in and replacing the more favorable cool air. As we surged down the path I could tell this run was very different from previous runs. I was finding it very difficult to get into my usual zone. Running with a pace group (Eloy in this instance) I found myself having less conversations in my head and more with Eloy. This was challenging for me, because I thrive in my zone. I did find it beneficial though because we were able to push each other in ways not possible running alone. As we came up on the last half mile of the run, I could not help bursting into a double time pace. I unfortunately left Eloy behind me talking with our trainer Brett, but it felt damn good to push my body hard.

Greeting us at the finish line was a water/Gatorade station set up by one our great mentors Susan. To the left Susan caught a snapshot of me as I closed in to devour some much needed fuel for my body. Gatorade and pretzels were like a gourmet spread to me.

When I got back home I could feel some new pains setting into ankles. I iced them for a good twenty minutes, and the knees for another twenty. This running is beginning to take its physical toll on my body. I will preserver though, that much I’m sure of. I have a strong will power, and will overcome all obstacles.

Try and keep up with me.

Practice Away From Practice

Well I knew it had to happen sooner or later. This past weekend Jamie and I took off for the weekend to visit my family in Pleasanton (Bay Area), so our normal Saturday morning practice turned into a solo run for us. It was a bit tough to hang out with my three brothers and not have some beers with them the night before. One beer led to two and I ended up staying up till about 2ish. Needless to say the 6:00 AM wake-up call came and went. I cracked my eyes at around nine and stumbled out of bed - this was a four mile day, a new bump up in our mileage, and I was not about to let this own get by me. My brother Kevin the night before made the comment in his drunken state that he wanted to run with me, so I roused him out of slumber. He woke with a bit of contention, but eventually met me downstairs for some hydration and stretching. We headed out to a local spot where I had mapped a 4 mile run. He brought his blades and I my running shoes; we strapped up and blasted off.

As we started out Kevin made the stark discovering that the course I had mapped out deceptively turned to gravel. This made for an amusing display of rollerblade acrobatics on his part - a damn funny site. We rerouted and I just judged my distance by my time. The run turned out to be pretty easy; 4 miles did not seem that much longer then 3 miles for me. It was good hangin with my bro and running in our home town. We were able to extrude a few good stories from some of the familiar sites we passed through… aaaaahh reminiscing, isn’t it great (that’s a nice slice of cheese for you, now how about some wine?). I finished out my last half mile with a fierce pace, doubling that of my normal pace. We headed back to the house where I found Jamie wrecking a 30 minute ride on the stationary bike. Give her blog a glance to see why she’s biking instead of running.

So the whole reason for this weekend visit was to head out to an A’s game with my dad, brothers and nephews – a guy’s day you might say. My dad always took us to A’s games growing up, so we still like to keep it going. These games are always a blast; drinking beer, eating peanuts and hot dogs, and yelling obscenities at the umpire for bad calls. It was a damn good time hangin out with my dad like this. That's him above with my youngest bro David and his to boys Owen and Joshua. It is so unbelievable that my dad is battling cancer; he is so fiery and full of energy. His positive momentum seems to be collecting energy by the day.

Speaking of my dad’s battle, he just finished his third round of chemo and can now say the majority of it is behind him now. HELL YEAH!! Three more to go... keep rockin it dad!!

All for now. Try and keep up!!

B

Time Trials

Our second team practice turned out to be a great day weather wise... no soggy rain slowing us down this time. Today we actually got to go through our stretching routine. We learned a total of 18 stretches that covered both our upper body and lower body. After that I felt ready to take on our run.

This day was different though. Today we ran our one mile time trials to get an idea of our speed. We started off with a mile run to the starting line to get us warmed up. Once there Brett prepped us, lined us up at the starting line and let us loose. I have to say that I think I took off a little too hot out of the gates. My pace slowed about a third of the way through the mile. I wasn't worried though, I was still maintaining a good pace, and only two other people were ahead of me. I hit the turn around point, gave Cole (our assistant coach) the thumbs up and headed back. I didn't really pay attention much to the other runners as I passed them (running in the opposite direction) cause I was in the zone, but Jamie was able to break that zone for me as I saw her go blazing past me - she looked so good and I couldn't help but smile at her.

I felt my legs fatiguing under me as I hit the 3/4 mark, this was the moment of mind over matter I thought. My burst out of the gates had cost me too much energy in the beginning, and I was now paying the price - a valuable lesson I guess. I decided to kick up my pace and told myself that this was possible and dammit if I'm gonna let anyone finish close behind me - this, I thought, was a lesson in mental endurance training. I relied on my self talk and pattern breathing that I use when I run my one mile hill runs.

As I approached the finish line I could see Brett standing there looking intently at his stop watch. We was yelling out and cheering me on as I made my final sprint over the finish line. As I hit a fast walk he yelled out my time to me... "7 MINUTES 13 SECONDS!" ..wew, I thought, that sounded like a pretty good time for my first timed run. Jamie was not too far behind - but you'll have to check in to her blog to hear what she has to say about her run and time.

Our team is awesome. Everyone clapped and cheered and flung out high fives as other team members crossed the finish line. We are all going to rock it in SF this October!

We hit a nice easy run back and finished up with our stretching routine. Jamie and I headed back to our pad to sink into the couch and ice up our joints. WHAT A DAY!



Try and keep up with me!