The mind matters

What do you visualize to get pumped up during a run?

I ask because I think my visualization's kind of silly, but it does the trick. When I'm getting worn down in the middle of a long distance, I imagine it's the end of the Olympic marathon. I'm the underdog. Everyone's counted me out. The favorite enters the Olympic stadium for the last lap and a half of the 26.2—you know, the "victory lap" portion of the race. There's a polite cheer. He gets the first 100 under his belt and he starts to round the first turn.

Then there's a roar as I burst through the tunnel. My eyes are focused. I'm breathing hard.

And I am haulin' ass.

It's about here that I tee up my favorite kick-ass tune. (My faves are "Fever Dream" from the "300" soundtrack and "Guns" from "The Rundown." Check 'em out on iTunes and you'll see what I'm talking about.)

My pace gets faster. The favorite, he hears the cheer and he looks back at me. At first he's dismissive—he's so far ahead—but then he sees that I'm gaining on him. He tries to go faster but it's not happening. I'm too quick. His lead dwindles...quickly. Just before the last turn, we're about 20 yards apart. By the end of the turn, I'm breathing down his neck. The finish line looms in front of us. The crowd's going nuts. We're neck and neck, trading the lead.

And then, right near the end, I look over at him. He looks at me. His eyes are wide. He's giving everything he's got and he knows I know it.

That's when I smile, find another gear...and win the race.

Told you it was silly, but it works.

So what say you, blogosphere? What do you visualize? I'd love to hear it.

Happy running.

Hello, outside, my old friend

For those of you who have slacked a bit on resolutions to get in shape, note that this marks the beginning of a three-day weekend, and that presents a new opportunity to ramp up efforts to get, and stay, fit.

That being said, it's amazing the rejuvenating power of the great outdoors.

Today was my first day running outside for...well...I can't tell you how long. It was still a bit chilly, a bit damp, a bit foggy—"fuzzy," a friend's daughter once called it—but the roads were clear. Finally. After five miles on the treadmill last night, I didn't think I could take another day of staring at my reflection in the window. So I laced up and headed outside.

It was glorious. All of the stars had aligned, it seemed, to allow me the perfect running conditions. I had dressed perfectly—shorts, a Dri-Fit undershirt, a long-sleeve shirt over that, gloves, a headband to keep my ears warm. I used my new Ironman watch, a Christmas gift, to keep mile splits. The music on my iPod kept hitting the right tunes at the right time (a little Paul Oakenfold, a little Prodigy, a whole lot of Girl Talk)...

...and I flew. Or I felt like I was flying at least. The miles ticked by and I got stronger. I kept track (thanks to the watch): Mile 1—8:30, Mile 2—8:27, Mile 3—8:25. And so on. Mile after mile.

I had planned to run six or seven miles. In the end, I ran 10. My time on that last mile? 8:00.

It's supposed to rain tomorrow, but I'm not planning to let that deter me. I've gotten a taste of the great outdoors. And I'm hungry for more.

Happy running.

Time is not on my side

Until tonight, I haven't run since this past Saturday.

And that's a problem.

I'd like to run more and I have good intentions. See, I like to research various workout plans to find ways to improve my performance. Just yesterday, for example, I printed off a 10-week half-marathon training regimen, and it looked great. It looked do-able.

Only it wasn't. The problem? I can't run six (or even five) days per week. I'd like to (Heck, I'd like to run every day if I could, though I know that's not healthy), but it's a logistical impossibility. The reasons are myriad. First, it's winter, and that means it stays dark until after I've already arrived at work and gets dark again about an hour after I come home. Second, I have young children. It's not like I can leave them home alone while I scratch my running itch. Third, life gets in the way. Just last night, for example, I didn't get home from school until 8 p.m. so I could participate in the eighth grade academic night. Early morning workouts aren't an option either. I already get up at 5:45 a.m. just so I can get to work on time, which means I'd have to get up at 4:30 in order to get anything meaningful done; plus, the roads are still dark and snowy—not very safe this time of year.

All of that means my running is sporadic at best. I know it's important to find time to work out, and trust me when I say motivation isn't the problem. But who has the time? I can't believe I'm alone in this, which is why it's all the more frustrating when I see running "gurus" provide workout plans as if they don't have a care in the world. Don't they have families? Jobs? Lives? Does anyone have a plan for a busy working dad? If you do, I'd love to see it.

There may be hope, though. My neighbor works at my gym. He suggested the other day that I could stay after hours to work out while he cleans up the place. He's there anyway, he said, and there are a few other guys who stay, too. That might be a solution. I could go after my kids are in bed and still have enough time to get in a decent-sized run. It'd mean I wouldn't be home and showered until 11 p.m. or so, but it beats doing nothing. There are worse ways to spend an evening and it would beat skipping three days between runs.

Happy running.

Karma's a, well, you know

I'm too competitive for my own good.

I like to think I'm in shape. When I get on the treadmill at the gym, I like to believe I can hang with the people around me. I either keep my pace faster or, if I'm next to some young buck who starts off on a six-minute-mile pace, I run farther. For that latter scenario, it's a tortoise and the hare mentality: That fast kid usually gives up after a mile or two while I'm still pushing forward.

Not so today. Guy next to me started off at an 8.0 (7:30 mile). Me? 7.0. So I started ramping up the pace. By mile 2, I was at 7.5. Dude next to me? 8.2. I began to envision me racing with this guy, his silhouette fading quickly out of sight while I labored along getting farther and farther behind.

I upped the treadmill to 7.7—a 7:45-mile pace—and held on. Surely this guy would be stopping soon. Surely if I couldn't outpace him, I could outlast him.

But alas, I couldn't keep up. After five miles, I had to stop. Dude? Still going strong. I stepped off the treadmill, wiped it down and headed over to the weights, disheartened. Twenty minutes later, my treadmill neighbor finished his workout. He headed over to the lockers at the back of the gym to get his jacket. On the back, there was a logo: "Boston Athletic Association: 113th Annual Boston Marathon. April 20, 2009."

So much for complaining about resolution runners in my previous post. That's karma for you.

Happy running.

Sign me up...or in...or something

I want a sign for the gym. Something like a get-out-of-jail-free card in Monopoly. It would say, "I have been a runner since (year) and a member of this gym since (date)." The sign would allow me to bypass the "resolution crowd" and actually get on a treadmill during the next couple of months. It would be the equivalent of getting to the front of the line at a fancy club:

"Ah, Mr. Streisel. Good to see you, sir."

"My usual treadmill, Paul?"

"But of course, sir. Right this way, sir."

Not that I have anything against the resolution crowd. Good for you, I say. Way to get motivated. Way to set some positive goals this new year.

But I write this because two days ago I got stuck in the resolution crowd rut. Contrast the gym population on a Tuesday before Christmas at around 6 p.m. (about 10 people) to the population this past Tuesday at the same time (about 60 people). There were lines everywhere—lines for the treadmills, lines for the weight machines, lines for the bathroom (not really). I had to bypass the treadmill and hit the elliptical machine. It was a decent workout, but it was no run.

So I tried a different strategy tonight. I waited until 8 to go to work out. It was a good idea. There were plenty of treadmills available; I was even able to run a full hour (seven miles).

Still, I'd like to exercise a bit earlier. Looks like that won't happen for a while, though, and that's frustrating.

Which is why I want a sign. Either that or I'll wait until the resolution crowd goes away...I figure by Feb. 20 I'll be good to go.

Happy running.

The Great Outdoors

Am I the only person who dreams about running just about everywhere I go?

I was driving to Ohio a couple of days ago with my family, and along the interstate were all of these big copses of trees. Some of these mini-forests seemed pretty extensive. And while it was a prohibitive 13 degrees outside, I couldn't keep my mind from saying in a not-so-quiet way, "I wonder what it'd be like to run in there?"

I do that all the time. For example, on New Years Day (after the OSU Rose Bowl victory, of course—Go Bucks!) I watched the premier of the HGTV Dream Home. This year the home is just outside of Santa Fe, NM. It's a nice house, full of all sorts of lovely furnishings and comfortable seating areas, but all I could think about was the outside. With all of that desert-y scrub plus all of the craggy, lunar-surface-looking rocks, I thought it looked like a tremendous place to get in a few miles. In fact, during the show, there was one split-second glance of a guy running out there in that wilderness, and I thought, "That could be me." I've registered to win the house each day since the contest opened.

When I was on my cruise to the Bahamas in early December, we were unable to make our Sunday port of call because the water was too choppy, so we were stuck on board the ship. That whole day I could've kicked myself for not bringing my running gear (I was supposed to be "relaxing"). I just felt like a good few miles would've made the whole day a bit brighter.

When I fly over mountainous areas. When I drive past a great looking trail. When I see a magazine picture of an amazing sunset. All I think about is running there. I wonder how many miles I could get in. I wonder what I'd see. I wonder how lost I could get before I find my way out.

My next trip will take me to Portland, OR. I've never been to the Pacific Northwest, but I've seen pictures.

It looks like a great place to run.

Happy runnning.

Treadmill trials and tribulations

I have a love/hate relationship with the treadmill. I love the results. I love not having to run in 8 degree weather or packed snow, but I hate feeling like a hamster in a wheel. I hate how much I sweat. I hate staring out the same window at the same boring parking lot for hours at a time.

So I play mind games to get through the workouts. Today was no exception. The first game I play is to see how far I can get before I start sweating profusely. Can I make it a mile? More? Today's distance was officially 1.14 miles. After that, you don't want to run near me (or else you should wear a poncho).

Game 2 is the "how fast can I get" game, where I bump up the speed a little bit each quarter mile. At Mile 2, I was running easily at a 7.0 (8:34 mile) pace. Then I bumped to 7.1. At 2.25 miles, it's 7.2. 2.5 = 7.3. And so on until I get to a pace where I feel like I'm working to hard to keep going up or I get bored.

Game 3 started today. At about 3.5 miles I was getting bored with Game 2, so I thought about my previous blog. In that entry, I mentioned being able to run a consistent seven-minute mile. Could I still bring it? At mile 4, I pushed the machine to 8.5 (7:03 mile) and held on. At 4.5 miles I was feeling pretty winded. By 4.75 miles, I didn't know if I'd make it—that "speed down" button looked awfully tantalizing. 4.9...4.91. I started counting my steps between hundredths of a mile. There were 10 between increments. 4.92 (10 steps) 4.93 (10 steps) 4.94 (10 steps)...the sweat was getting thick...4.95...I wanted to hit my iPod to play my favorite pump-up song, but my arms couldn't get there...4.96...4.97...Almost there...4.98...4.99...

And I made it! A seven-minute mile. It was official. Take that, 25-year-old me. I could still bring it. Well, once anyway.

I still have no idea how I used to do that consistently mile after mile.

No matter. There will be more time to figure out if I can do it more than once. After all, there are more treadmill games to play before this winter is over.

Happy running.