A Runner's High

First of all, congratulations to Joel and Liz and future Rise Up Runner Amelia, born yesterday at Easton Memorial Hospital. I'll let Joel fill you in with a photograph hopefully sometime soon, but she looks beautiful!

I should say at the outset that I am not a believer in the "no pain, no gain" philosophy when it applies to running. You can have great running experiences without causing yourself undo pain. And I certainly don't think one should run through injury to be "tough". That being said, there is a different kind of pain with running that I do somewhat masochistically enjoy. The kind of pain that I am talking about is the burn in the trachea that comes with pushing oneself really hard and huffing and puffing, the aching in the legs as the miles add up on a long run, the overwhelming feeling of needing to slow down when really pushing hard for a sustained distance.

That kind of pain I like, if only for the feeling of contentment when it ends! Today I explored that type of pain, which led to a profound experience by the end of the run. My goal today was to run fast for an hour.  I do not mean sprint until I drop fast, but a sustained aerobic fast, testing the limits of where my body produces lactic acid after I run out of ability to use oxygen- the so-called lactic threshold. I thought it would be great if I could maintain a seven minute per mile pace. That seemed like a nice round, albeit odd, number that I have run recently for shorter distances.

I ran an easy half mile to warm up, then waited at the corner of Idlewild and Aurora for a few minutes. No, I wasn't waiting for my running peeps, as Saturday is not a traditional RUR day. Instead, I was waiting for my Garmin Forerunner watch to pick up satellite signals and "lock in" on my position. It is a slow process, at least on my older watch, but eventually I was ready to go. When I started, it felt tough, being a little sore from the long run Mike and I did on Thursday. That was a easy-pace 21 mile affair that took a toll in soreness mainly due to the distance. Today, I was using slightly different muscles, or likely different parts of the same muscles or at least using them in a different way.

Anyway, I felt o.k. after a mile of so, and I was soon accelerating from a 7:30 pace into the 6:50 range. I was breathing hard. Not quite completely out of breath, but certainly unable to carry on a decent conversation with anyone. It was steady going until about 5 miles. Then things really started to hurt.  This is the where the pain I mentioned earlier started to hit.  I was maintaining my pace, but the will to do so was fading. My legs were tired, my breathing heavy, and I felt this urge to stop and walk. I pressed on thinking, this is my pain, I brought it on, and this is what I wanted out of today. Somehow that worked, and on I pushed.  I actually felt better by about 6 miles and by the time I turned towards home on Aurora St at 7 plus miles I felt like one of those 16 year old trail horses that picks up the pace suddenly when turning for home. If I just lost you there, I apologize. If you've ever traveled west and gone on a trail ride on a horse, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

And then, halfway down Aurora Street it happened.  It was something that I haven't felt in years. I felt a rush of adrenaline, then my legs went almost numb. Perhaps not numb since I could still feel them but the pain was gone, replaced with a feeling of strength that I could run forever. My pace quickened into the low 6's, and I felt strong. My breathing got easier, and I felt invincible.  My thoughts became crystal clear, and I briefly felt both extremely connected physically to my body, yet somehow far removed at the same time.  Then reality set in and my runner's high faded as quickly as it came. It lasted only a minute or so, but it was a glorious minute. As it disappeared, I slowed down and almost stumbled across Dover street having sustained a seven minute per mile pace for eight miles.  I stopped short of an hour at 55 minutes, 15 seconds.  My pace was 6:52. It was a good day.  The thought of running for a full hour was now irrelevant. That would have to wait until the next run.

--landy

You Don't Need to Be a Morning Person

I am not an early morning person. Let me make that clear from the outset. Being a morning person at heart is not a requirement to be a Rise Up Runner. There may be other requirements to being a Rise Up Runner such as occasional sleep deprivation or the willingness to ignore your brain when it screams to you to hit the snooze button. But I would not say you have to be a morning person.

I run early because I have to. No, I don’t HAVE to run, but if I want to run, which I do, I NEED to run early. Sure, I could try to squeeze in a run at another time during the day, but it isn’t easy. As a busy dad with three young children and a demanding job, there simply is no better time to run than before everyone else gets up. I should mention too that I love my mornings with the kids. It is the time I get to see them the most. After all, there are days that work keeps me late, and I arrive home after my kids are asleep. Or, there are days when I walk through the door at a decent hour in the evening, and I’m nearly tackled with kids shouting “Daddy’s home! Yeah!” I simply can’t imagine running upstairs, changing into my running gear, then jetting out the door with a shout to my wife and kids “See you in an hour!” It would not be cool.

When I get home, I like to play with the kids, catch up with my wife, and hear what everyone did during the day. Later, there is dinner to make, kids to wash up, bedtime stories to read, etc. I am not willing to give any of those things up. There is something very reassuring to the soul about running at a time that doesn’t take away from my time with the family.

Sure I could squeeze in a run at lunch. Only I can’t. I rarely have much time to swallow a sandwich in three bites, let alone go for an hour long run. Plus, I’d be sweaty and need a shower and a change of clothes and on and on.

So, early morning it is, and I have accepted that. What is strange is that I am starting to love it. If someone had told me a couple of years ago that I would be waking before five in the morning routinely to go for runs, I would have said “You’re joking! I have heard of THOSE types, and I am not that guy!” But I have eased into it. I couldn’t run every day at five since that would hurt my muscles and joints too much, not to mention I’d be chronically sleep deprived. However, I can manage three to four days a week. When I finish an early morning run, I know my exercise day is done. Whatever else happens, I own that run, and nothing can take it back from me. I do not worry about how hectic the rest of the day gets with other commitments. In a sense, I have paid myself first with a run. It was for me and no one else, and yet with early morning running with our group there is a sense of shared experience. The fact that there are others to help me with this challenge of running early, to motivate me to show up at a godforsaken hour in the dark and sometimes in rain and cold, well that… that is what makes it truly special.

So, if any of this sounds familiar, consider joining us. You don’t even need to be a morning person. That is what coffee is for.

--Landy Cook