AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, 

I AM A RUNNER

 

A year ago I was a person who ran. 

 

Now 18 months and 1200 miles later, I am a runner. 

 

This is not an epiphany. It is a transformation. Every step I took, every run I completed was part of a change that was forged in those runs. It’s been a transformation of my body, but even more of my mind.

 

I spent the first four months of 2019 nursing my wife through a right hip replacement followed by hip revision surgery number two on her left hip. I also traveled for work on a much reduced schedule which left little time for me. I gained weight: I ate like a teenager, drank like a rock star, and was, not surprisingly, a physiological and psychological mess.

 

As she returned to health and fitness, she began to glance at me with that not-quite-so-tender look only a long-time wife and partner can. I could quickly tell it was time to do something before she used those two, now perfect, hips of hers to walk out the door. So, in early May, I began walking more and trail hiking once or twice a week. On those walks and hikes, I occasionally tossed in a little run or two. I began to eat more nutritious foods and cut back on the alcohol. Needless to say I began to drop some pounds, and those walks and hikes became more runs than walks.

 

I quickly settled into a historically familiar pattern. I’ve used running (inconsistently) over the years as a route to better health, but it always worked out that just when I got better and faster, I would suffer an injury of some sort that would sideline me for weeks or more. Because of that history, and of course my advancing age (64 years old at the time) I was consciously progressing very slowly: not upping my distance after being able to knock out 2-3 slow miles at a time. I was cautious of injury, and I was still heavy.

 

Then, I saw a reference to an interesting book about running slower to go faster, so I picked up “80/20 Running: Run Stronger and Race Faster by Training Slower” by Matt Fitzgerald. I can say it changed my running life.  Or perhaps more accurately, it gave me a running life. The basic thrust is that most recreational runners run too fast on their slow runs and too slow on their fast runs to make significant, long term progress. We quickly improve, but just as quickly plateau, performing each run in the same way as the last.

 

So with this new approach I did 80 percent of my runs at a very slow pace. Think about a fast walk transitioning to a run: That’s how slow I needed to go. You should be able to run at this pace and have an almost normal conversation with your running partner. Or recite the pledge of allegiance without having to take deep breaths. If you can only recite a short sentence before having to take a deep breath, you are going too fast.

 

I committed to this way of running starting in June, going through November. By the end of 2019 I had logged 445 running miles with no injuries, no setbacks. And my pace improved. I could easily run 8-to-10 miles without a break or feeling like I had just run a marathon. I even stopped riding my bike through this period because I was committed to keeping my heart rate low. I usually ran between 15 and 20 miles a week and a couple of months I ran more than 70 miles. Even while traveling. On a quick 4-day trip to Germany I managed to squeeze in two 5 mile runs along the Mosel River in Trier, before heading home.

 

 

 

This was the wonderful path along the Mosel River near Trier, Germany with perfect weather.

 

Now I recently celebrated my first running anniversary, and so far I have logged more than 1,100 miles since I started. I’ve also dropped 30 pounds. I’m proud of what I have accomplished so far and looking forward to the next year.

 

Of course, this has all been running solo. And with the lock down that started in mid-March because of the Corona Virus, all of my goal races were cancelled, the Encinitas ½ Marathon and the Black Star Canyon 9K trail and the Canyon de Chelly 50K Ultra races were postponed. So, running alone looks to be the norm for a while.