15K Tempo Run + Fartlek Ladders

What the hell are Fartlek Ladders? I'm glad you asked!

"Fartlek Ladders" is just a fancy term for Speed Intervals. It goes like this: 1 Minute sprinting, 1 minute jogging/walking, 1 minute sprinting, 1 minute jogging/walking. You can do it on a treadmill, or you can set a watch to beep at 1 minute intervals.

I awoke to some pretty steady rain and mild-to-cold temperatures this morning. Yep, I'm back in Saint John. Actually, this weather reminds me of Vancouver! In the winter. With no desire to get soaked by fluids other than my sweat today, I decide to hop on a bus Uptown. That's right, they call Uptown Downtown here. I hit up the Canada Games Aquatic Centre for a change of scenery. I assume they have treadmills here.

My assumption correct, I sign up for a treadmill and take a minute to stretch - I have the advantage of not being in a rush today. I start off at my marathon pace - 9 Miles Per Hour - no messing around today. I need to kick my own ass for all the missed runs over the past few weeks. If I had a coach, he'd undoubtedly be displeased. With a good, fast pace like this, I watch the miles tick away. 20 Minutes, 3 Miles (5K), 20 Minutes, 3 Miles, 20 minutes, 3 Miles. An hour in, and I'm starting to make 3 wishes to the invisible Gym Genie. 1) I wish I had a water bottle 2) I wish I ate a better lunch 3) I wish I had my MP3 player. Treadmills is boring, yo! I need to shake things up a bit here.

At the hour mark, I've got a couple of choices. I could continue at race pace and push to see how far my legs hold out (I'm hoping 26 Miles!) or I could get creative. I must have been getting dizzy from the Air Conditioning, because I decided to deliver a punishing blow to my legs - the dreaded Fartlek Ladders.

Normally, I'd be doing these on a track, or better yet on the Stanley Park Seawall in Vancouver, with a borrowed watch or customized MP3 with a beep every 60 seconds. On solid ground, I control the tempo and how hard my sprints are. On a treadmill, all I can do is max out the machine at 10 MPH for my sprints, and jam my finger onto the "Slow" button to bring it down to 6.5 MPH for my recovery. I picked out 20 minutes for my time for some reason, and away we go!

The problem with a treadmill is that everything is artificial; the speed, the incline, even the running. Still, the rain keeps falling outside, and I'm only soaked to the skin in my own precipitation, or perspiration actually. Eau De Nathan. They should bottle it and market is as female repellent. Actually, I think I recognize the young lady working the Personal Trainer Desk from high school. I wouldn't say I know her, and I imagine she probably gets a dozen knuckleheads a week approaching her with the ol' "Don't I know you from somewhere?" routine. I better leave well enough alone and get back to the running. I'm terrible with names anyway.

Sprinting feels really good! I missed it! Cranking the treadmill up to 10, I feel right at home, and I wish it went up to 11 (that's 1 faster, Mr Tufnel). After 10 minutes, I'm still feeling good, but the recovery minute is flying by faster and faster. I slow down my next recovery lap to 5MPH, which is barely a job, then back up to 10, down to 4, up to 10, down to 3, 10 and done! This happens every time, but you know what, recovery is exactly that, recovery!

After a little cooldown walk, I used a weird-looking ab machine and stretched everything out. A little trip to the sauna and hot tub, and now we're cooking! Literally! My stomach feels a little queazy, but I think that's just its emptiness. With my ass-kicking workout complete, it's time for lunch!

Long Run Monday = 36K in the Salt Marsh

My friends live in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia. It's a quaint neighborhood, pretty quiet and seemingly safe. Looking online for running routes is as easy as checking out the Trans Canada Trail website (tctrail.ca). I see there's a really nice trail system in Cole Harbor Heritage Park, 13K from their house, and you can basically run for 50K in this system. I borrowed my friend's bike, and the plan is to bike to the Park, lock up/stash the bike in the woods and then run as far as my legs will carry me, before coasting home on fumes.

Riding a bike should be as easy as well, riding a bike. I pumped up the tires, tested the gears and set off down the hill. Then I noticed something was wrong. The crank arm, the little shaft that has the pedal on it, on the left side was extremely loose, and almost falling off! This happened to my old bike, and it took nothing more than a good tightening with a socket set. I turned around, hopped off the bike and jogged along with it, back to the house. Looking around, I couldn't locate the tool kit, so I decided to just run it. I filled my water bottle, grabbed 2 Powerbar Gels and set off. Here's my route:

13K from Dartmouth to Coal Harbor
10K Heritage Trail/Salt Marsh Trail
13K back to Dartmouth

It's perfect running weather today; a little cloud, a little cool-ish and not too humid. The run to the park felt pretty good, save for some construction work that diverted me to a back street. It's the scenic route, right? There was a good hill up, a good hill down, and then another good hill down, down, down to Cole Harbor Heritage Park. After navigating through a section of the Heritage Trail, I hung a left and the trail opened up into a huge Saltwater Marsh, with all kinds of sandpiper and heron. This reminds me of the wetlands back in Saint John at the Irving Nature Park, except the air smells way fresher, with a little salty hint.

I stop to choke down a Gel and read a plaque, which tells me this was once a Native fishing ground, but European settlers came in and built a railroad, connecting one part of Nova Scotia to the other, presumably before the highway was built. This abandoned railbed, including several bridges, is now the home of a nice running/walking trail. There are a few other people out today with their dogs and families, and a couple of fisherman putting around in boats. I'm not sure what they're pulling out of the water, because I don't see any fish. Maybe clams? I reach the other side of the Salt Marsh and turn back, re-tracing my steps back up, up, up to Cole Harbor Road.

My water bottle is empty, so I start eyeing restaurants and businesses along the side of the road where I can fill up. I step inside a gas station, dripping with sweat and breathing heavily. I ask the counter attendant if I can use the bathroom, and the frightened look on her face tells me that she was probably expecting me to utter the magic words, "Empty the register" or "Put all the money in a paper bag!" I just want some tap water fer chrisakes!

After filling up, I caught my reflection in the mirror, and that's when I noticed the huge white lines running down my face, remnants of the salt left behind from all the sweat escaping my pores. Combined with my bloodshot eyes from the sweat burning my pupils, I was quite a sight. I got the hell out of that gas station with a fresh bottle of water and another horrified look from the cashier.

The final stretch is all uphill. I turn up a street called Irish Town or something or other, and I'm really pounding it out, laying it on the line. This is another Triple Threat Hill, complete with blind crests and a never-ending incline. I get back to my friends' place and look at the kitchen clock. 36K in 3 hours is way off my race pace, but I have to factor in the climb, the gas station break, stopping to read the plaque, and taking my time to avoid getting lost in an unfamiliar neighborhood. Still, I'm pretty happy with my ability to climb a full-out hill at the end of 36K, which bodes well for my next run. I was making up for lost time with this long run, but there's no sense of desperation. With 6 weeks left before the Victoria Marathon, there's lots of time to improve. I'm so hungry I could eat a whole cow, which is exactly what my buddy serves up for dinner. A 10-ounce steak, sweet potatoes and grilled vegetables has never tasted better!

Rolled Ankle = Weekend Off

Somehow on Thursday night, while having a couple of pints with a good friend, I rolled my ankle. The details are beer-soaked and foggy. It was either falling upstairs at the pub, or running home in the fog. Either way, I messed it up. Not smart, Nathan. You're supposed to be in training.

It's Friday, and the ankle is not feeling good. I'll take the day off.

Saturday comes around and the ankle is still hurting. No running today.

On Sunday, I hopped in a car with some good friends and we drove to Nova Scotia. As much as I want to spend time with my family, I need a little "me time" and a chance to clear my head. My ankle still feels stiff, but the pain has pretty much subsided. A good night's sleep tonight, and I'll be ready to make it up with a long run tomorrow.

Speedwork Wednesday becomes Junk Mile Thursday

I asked around to see if anybody knew where there was a running track in Saint John. It turns out there's one at the University of New Brunswick. It's not a gravel track like I'm used to; it's 1,000 meters instead of 400, but it's exactly what I need. Rather than take a bus or bum a ride, I use the 10K from my Mom's house to the track as a slow warm-up. I run down Douglas Avenue, past some gorgeous character homes that make Vancouver's Heritage Houses look like condos, and through the troubled North End Community to the University.

Upon Arrival, I see tradesmen sitting around, doing what they do best, and a huge fence around the running track. Shit. A huge sign on the fence confirms my fear: the track is closed for construction. I see a few workers snickering at me from the other side of the fence, laughing at the runner who didn't get the memo. Rather than sit around and sulk, I turn and set out for home. It ain't speedwork, but any running is better than no running at all.

My first 10K was intended to be a warmup, so I wasn't exactly burning up the streets. Now, with no track workout, I can rock a fast 10K home and still make decent time overall. I was just jogging at first, so it took me roughly an hour to get to the university. Let's see if I can break 40 minutes on the way back. It'll be close.

You know what slowed me down? Crosswalks. I'm the kind of guy that usually sees an opening and takes it, but I don't know what the jaywalking fines are like in Saint John these days, so I'd better just take my time and wait for the little man that tells me I can "Walk". Through the North End, I'm sweating like a hooker on pay day, and my water is almost gone. It's pretty hot out today, and in true Nathan Stafford style, I'm wearing all black clothing. Like Hendrix's muse in Crosstown Traffic, I "Don't Mind a little pain." I fly down Douglas Avenue, past the ancient homes and across the famed Reversing Falls Bridge (a popular suicide spot in Saint John). Up a hill, left on Lancaster Avenue, and I'm on the home stretch. The clock read 2:30 when I left the University Track, so I wonder if I'll be home before 3:10? Only the kitchen clock will tell. I desperately need a watch.

I enter the kitchen, look at the wall clock, and to my dismay it's 3:15. I don't know if this clock is fast, the University clock is slow, or a combination of both, but let's just blame it on the crosswalks. Yeah, that'll work.

Tip of the day: Get a watch, you dummy!


My view from the other side of the fence.

Improvised Speedwork - No track, No problem

I'm limited on time today. It's an important day, and running unfortunately has to take a back seat. Today is my Dad's funeral. Let's see if I can pack a high-intensity workout into about 20 minutes, and get a good sweat going. There's no track in my Mom's neighborhood, but a city block should do just fine. I eyeball it, and figure it's slightly longer than the 400 meter gravel track I'm used to at Brockton Oval, so let's call it 500. Sprint 500, jog 500, sprint 500, jog 500, and so forth. My goal is 4 sprint laps, and I'm not one to let my goal slip away. I pick the most level block I can find, and I'm off to the races!

Leave it to some jerk to park their SUV right at the front of their driveway, blocking the sidewalk and forcing me to run out into the road. I'd rather not do that, since who knows what kind of idiot might come speeding around the corner and clip me, or worse. But hey, nothing's gonna stand in my way! By the way, I shouldn't have had that 2nd beer last night, but I did.

Lap #1 was a little labored. It's cold outside, and being short on time, I didn't exactly warm up properly. The first lap is my warm-up, so be it. The first rest lap couldn't come soon enough, and I'm chugging along like a steam train. Actually, the cold air burns my lungs more like coal. Sprint #2 rolls around, and I'm feeling a little better. As I finish the lap, I think I see a little set of eyes peeping through some curtains at me, but I can't be sure. Maybe it's a kid.

I grind out my 3rd Sprint and let out a big grunt at the end. My water bottle is still in the same bush where I left it, so I scoop it up and take a big swig, careful not to drink too much so I don't cramp up or feel that slooshy-feeling in my guts. Boy, I feel like crap today! Maybe it's sprinting on pavement (don't usually do that), maybe it's the poor night's sleep last night, maybe it's the 2 beers, and maybe, just maybe it's the 4-hour time difference.

I usually do my speedwork in a group, with someone almost as fast as me. Today it's all about personal best, and I can tell I'm not running as fast as I can. With nothing to lose, I come around that final turn and just give it everything I have! Why not? As I cross the imaginary finish line, legs exploding, lungs burning, I notice that little set of eyes from earlier. I inch a little closer and expect to see a small child. "Woof!" My spectator is a Jack Russell Terrier! Maybe next time, Jackie boy will time me, because I have no idea how close I was to a minute. I need a track and a clock. I consider today's speed workout a failure, or at least a warmup.

Long Run Sun(day) 27K

More of the same. Much more.

Today was my scheduled Long-Slow Run of the week. When I say slow, it's not like I'm plodding along like an old lady in an antique shop, but a little less intense than my Wacky Hill Climb on Friday. Seeing as how I didn't really know any other routes off-hand, I guess I'll head to the Nature Park again. This time though, I'll add an extra lap around the park to to tag on another 7K.

Heading out, I take a slightly different route to avoid the wrath of Lancaster and Duke Streets, heading further West to take Dufferin Row and Lancaster Avenue. Fundy Heights wasn't a problem, and the hill down to the park was well, downhill. Getting into the park, I notice there aren't many cars parked in the lot, as it's still relatively early and I guess most folk around here are the church-goin/Sunday relaxin-type. I see a few squirrels bouncing around like acorn-crackheads, but other than that, it's a quiet morning at the park.

Lap #1 around the park was easy-peasy. I've done this before. Without a watch, I have no idea how fast I'm going, but my trusty MP3 player keeps my legs moving at a steady groove. Today it's all about Chromeo. Awww yeah! A friend of mine made me a mix of all different songs, sped up, or slowed down to one tempo, keeping the kick drum going steady the whole time for 90 minutes. Strangely, the track ended as I finished finished the second lap. That's 20K in 90 minutes. A little faster than Wednesday, but factor in Extreme Hill aka Sand Cove Road, and it's a rough stretch home.

The last time I was in Saint John, I tried to do a similar run, but I couldn't make it home and had to walk up that hill, taking breaks along the way. Not today, friendo. I dig in, lift my knees and make that hill a thing of the past. The long, steady climb didn't hurt at all, and I can tell I've come a long way physically since last summer. Fundy Heights levels out and I'm able to slow my breathing down a bit. Nothing feels better than a rest period after a big climb (well maybe one or two things), but I know I still have a downhill to burn. Here we go! It feels pretty good to sprint at the end of a long run, and I almost feel like I could run another 10K or so. That's good to know, because in just a few short weeks, I'll be running a marathon in Victoria! 27K was a breeze today, and took me just under 2 hours. That's not race pace, but it's not bad.

Black Friday - Hill Speed

7K Down, 7K around, 7K Up and Back.

Saint John, New Brunswick has its share of hills.

Even on the other side of the country, I still have to get my run in. Today just so happens to mark the death of my father, but the kind of guy he was, he wouldn't want a little thing like death to distract me from doing what I'm supposed to do. If anything, his memory provides me with motivation.

My Dad was one of the most feared rugby players in Atlantic Canada at one time, and I heard an account from one of his former opponents that he would just drop the ball/turn it over, rather than be tackled by the beast that was Don. He always played clean from what I gather. He was a big guy, but in a game of sustained intensity like rugby, it's about more than just size. You've got to be able to run. For this reason, I'll pour everything I have into this run today. For you, Dad.

I'm crashing at my sister's house for the time being, and it's right in the inner-city, a neighborhood lovingly dubbed "Lower West". The are is ripe with tough hills, rugged shoreline and pothole-ridden roads. This is just the challenge I need, but a little nature would be nice.

Enter the Irving Nature Park, 7Km from my sister's house, which offers everything a runner needs as twisting trails and hellish hills. I think I'll make this my destination. I set out with a small bottle of water and a Powerbar Gel just in case things get hairy.

The run from Lower West takes me up 2 devastating hills called Lancaster Street and Duke Street; it's a good way to warm up. As I hit the neighborhood of Fundy Heights, things level out and I make my way to Sand Cove Road, a big, long stretch that ends at the Nature Park. Sand Cove is actually a major downslope, ending in a nice steep hill. That was a breeze! But hey, everybody knows that what goes down must come up...

As I enter the park, I pause for a decond to look at the trail map. I could spend all day in these trails, but like the ant of "The Ant & The Grasshopper" fame, I know there's a long winter ahead. This winter includes a Kilometer-long Extreme Hill, followed by about 3K's of steady climbing. I think I'll take the main road, which is only another 7K. I find solace in the fact that I'm finally off the pavement. Loose gravel isn't exactly a down-filled comforter, but my knees can feel the difference right away.

Rounding every corner, climbing every hill, I'm afforded some pretty amazing views of moist wetlands full of marine birds like Heron, Sandpiper, and my favourite marine bird, Crow. On the other side of the park is the majestic Bay of Fundy, where seals come to play. I'm tempted to take it all in, but this is running, not gawking. With a little turn of the head, I can take in the view while still keeping pace, just seeing everything in high-speed view. It's still pretty awesome. It saddens me that I took this place for granted all those years I called Saint John home.

As the main trail nears its end (I can tell by the excellent trail markers every 0.5 Km), I swig water and choke down my Gel. I estimate I've been running for about an hour now, or 14 K, whichever comes first. Looking ahead, I see the behemoth that awaits, Sand Cove Road.

There are at least 3 ways to build leg muscle in my books: Track workouts, Hill Repeats, and Weightlifting. I'll take Door #2, Bob. Hills! With 14K behind me, I'm not exactly fresh, but this is where my mental toughness kicks in. That hill is nothing compared to what I can do. With my head up high, I grind it out and get through the extreme elevation. Now it's a steady climb up, and the nice, level Fundy Heights. I'm almost home! Let's see if I can gather some speed down Duke Street. Yup! I can!

Since I'm without a watch, I rely on the kitchen clock at my sister's house. Walliam Clockington tells me I just ran 20K in 1 Hour and 40 minutes. Not great, but not bad when you factor in those hills. What did I learn today? Climbing your way to the top is achievable if you want it and are willing to work. I hope the drenched t-shirt and aching calves are enough evidence of my struggle, and I hope Dad was watching from above. If I ever play rugby again, my opponents are going to feel the power and the strength that Dad gave me, and the hill repeats just proved. Love ya big guy!



Don Stafford - March 4th 1941 to Aug 13th 2010

Speedwork Wednesdays - The Clinic is Growing!

Last night I instructed week 2 of the Personal Best Clinic through Running Room Ltd. We're up in numbers this week! Like the painters, it's now a group of 7. I guess word is getting around, and people are liking the fact that this is the only clinic where they're sore the next day (or two days), the sign of a good workout.

Since there are a couple of new people in the mix, I explained the rules and track etiquette, giving up the inside lane for faster runners, etc. With little more than an encouraging word and a reminder that "you get what you give", we're off.

Since I'll be taking a couple of weeks off to fly to New Brunswick to be with my family, I have a replacement instructor who I'm showing the ropes this week. He's a totally different style of runner than me, but he just so happened to finish 50th in the BMO Vancouver Marathon, while yours truly finished 51st. Hmmm I think he's a pretty good fit. I know this guy is fast, which is exactly why I want to run with him. There's another fast guy in the group, so the 3 of us lined up together and set off on our first lap. Shaboooom!

I made the mistake of borrowing a watch from someone, and wouldn't you know it, the battery died! I guess it couldn't handle my animal magnetism. Okay, maybe I'm negatively charged. Either way, the alkaline is running through my veins now so I gave up on trying to time myself. From now on, my time is simply "the fastest".

After the first lap, we did a full lap of recovery (jogging) and I noticed the heat was affecting my breathing. On my last Speedwork day, it was 8:30AM and foggy, so 6:30PM and sunny is a little different. Oh well, I grew up near a pulp mill, my lungs can survive anything! Sprint Lap #2 came up, and I lead the charge through another fast circuit. I tell the students (it still seems weird for me to refer to them as students) that you should save your fastest running for the final lap. Lap #3 was just a maintenance lap for me, at about 75 or 80%. I wait for everyone to catch up and give a few words of encouragement. Here we go, folks! The Final Lap!

AND THEY'RE OFF!!!

Fast guy #1 took off like a rocket from the starting line. He does realize that 400m is a long way, but I guess he feels pretty confident. I do my best to keep up with him on the first straightaway, but I let him go ahead on the curve. He doesn't know that I've been holding back the first three laps. As the track winds into the second straightaway (the long one) I shift to low gear and explode past him on the inside. I looked back over my shoulder going into the final turn, and he's 4 or 5 strides behind me. My replacement instructor was a few strides behind him. I've got this in the bag, baby!

As I shuffle my way into the final straightaway, I wind my arms way back and try to keep my elbows brushing my sides. I get low, I lift my knees, I kick my feet way back, and just let go. I feel my lungs start to burn a bit, but I ignore the pain. There's nothing that can stop me now! I fly across the finish line ahead of everyone else and turn around. Fast guy #1 is there, and sub is there, so I give them high fives. I think these guys are going to challenge me over the coming weeks, and that's precisely what I want.

It's great to have someone to push you. I've always thought that you benefit from training with someone who is as good as you or better, and track running is no different. Fast Guy #1 pushed hard right off the starting line, and that challenged me to get up there with him. Fast Guy #1 benefits from seeing me burn past him, because now he knows he's not the fastest, and he has some work to do. Everybody wins! This is definitely the hardest track workout I've ever put in, and I'm happy to say it's only Week #2. We'll be flying come Week 10.

Today's tip: "You don't have to go it alone." Find a friend or training partner who is as fast or faster, as strong or stronger, or as fit or fitter. This way you can challenge each other, offer support and watch each other advance. The best way to judge yourself is through someone else's eyes.

Injury Report: Achilles Tendon

It's just a minor strain. Gotta give it time to "heel". These days, I'm "tendon" to rush things.

I awoke today with some discomfort. The above puns eased the pain a bit. I was hit by a softball in the heel last night when I ran into 3rd base. The throw was low, and the 3rd Baseman didn't catch it, rather it connected solidly with the back of my running shoe. I was safe, he was all in my face and I just wanted to call time-out and stretch, but before I knew it, the game was back on and I was driven in to home.

In my past experience, this injury usually doesn't hurt right away, but rather brings delayed onset pain that can be quite immobilizing. I had a serious Achilles Tendon strain in the winter of 2007 while running around a snow-covered Burnaby Lake. I didn't warm up properly, went into high speed almost immediately, and didn't stop when I initially felt the discomfort, probably worsening the injury.

Most serious athletes would have immediately sat out the rest of the game so as not to further injure, but not this genius. Since we're the home team, we bat last, but only if we need it. The other guys are up now and it's their last chance to come back from our formidable 4-Run advantage. I'm in Center Field aka "My Office" and getting ready to run around. I had a nice catch, followed by a stupid throw, trying to catch the runner out back at first. My heel is stiff. Oh well, it's almost over. They rallied hard, but we managed to hold them to 3 runs, winning 9-8 I believe. I had such a lucky night before the incident. I successfully got on base every time I batted, reaching on 4 consecutive errors! 0 for 0 on the night.

Well, that's the last softball game of the season. There are playoffs and a Championship Match, but I won't be able to make them, unfortunately due to travel and important family commitments.

I'll be flying back to Saint John, NB to be with my family to support my Dad. It looks like his fight with Cancer is coming to a sad close. It's very disheartening, and requires my primary focus for the time being. My entries may be a little sparse for the coming few days, but rest assured, if times are getting tough, I'll turn to running as my solution, to strengthen mentally and to re-build my injured body before I unleash my full potential & crank it up a notch. Thanks for reading this by the way. I greatly appreciate it. - Nathan

Speedwork Sunday - Flyin' Solo

Today I decided to hit the track again. Since I did my long run yesterday on the treadmill, I don't need to go out with the Sub-3 Hour Marathon Run Club, and I can try to promote my clinic. I arrived at the Running Room just before 8:30 and started walking around, talking to a few people and getting ready to go to the track again. Looks like everybody else is doing their long run today. Oh well! I guess I'll be hitting the track on my own. Here's where they say running is a solitary sport. I'm running, I'm solitary, I'm the solitary runner.

The rain has pretty much eased off, but the gravel track at Brockton Oval is a little muddy. I can feel a bit of slippage on the ground when I'm running, and there's a puddle or two to avoid. My first lap around the track was successful, and now I'm doing a half-lap for recovery. 400m sprinting, followed by 200m jogging. Lap 2 and 3 went by without incident, and now, the final lap, the one for all the marbles.

I paused for a second to scrape the caked mud out from the waffle tread of my running shoes (don't want to blow a tire coming around that corner) and I'm off! Visualizing my stride, I make an effort to lift the knees and make my foot land on the "sweet spot" every time. This is a good chance to work on my form.

The final turn approaches and I get ready to shift into low gear. I have several factors working in my favor today: It's cooler, being 8:30AM. It's drizzling, so I'm constantly cooled off. There's no competition other than myself; and I had a great sleep last night. Now let's see what we can do!

I dug in and powered through the final 50 meters or so. It felt good to just finish strong. My time? I didn't even bring a watch today, so your guess is as good as mine. Sometimes it's not all about your time on the stopwatch. If you want to get faster, stronger and longer-lasting, you've got to put in the maintenance runs to improve your technique and form. I sure as hell didn't run slow, but my pace felt about "average".

It's like a guitar teacher tells his student: You'll get better at playing the fast solos if you break them down and play them slow first, appreciating each note and understanding its place in the piece of music. It's Mental Gymnastics.

Treadmill Talk - 30K Pace Run

It was raining cats and dogs today, so rather than treat myself to a nice soggy Long Run to the tune of 30K, I decided to do my long run on a *GASP* treadmill. Now, there are several schools of thought on the treadmill. For one, it's less of a challenge. You just have to lift your leg enough for the treadmill belt to pass under your feet. You're not so much propelling your body forward as hovering. Secondly, the terrain stays the same, thus keeping your leg in one position for the duration of your workout. On a trail run, or running outside virtually anywhere, there are hills, uneven surfaces, rocks, curves and stumps to keep your muscles guessing and reacting. On a treadmill, you can adjust the elevation (which I always keep at 0.5 AT LEAST) but you're really just doing a straight, flat run. It's artificial. BUT, it allows me to pace myself, since I don't own a GPS or heart rate monitor.

Here's my challenge: The cardio machines at the Public Pool only allow a maximum of 30 minutes' use at a time. Being sly, I pushed mine to 40 minutes, and signed up for 3 separate machines one after another. At some larger gyms, there are enough treadmills so you don't have to do this, you can do a 2.5 hour session without stepping down from the machine once, during a screening of Goodfellas on Showcase. True Story. But, for $5 admission, I'll take what I can get.

Okay, for this to work, I need to run at my race pace or better the whole time. These machines are calculating in Miles, so I have to do a little quick math inside my head. 40 Minutes per 10 Kilometers or 6 Miles. 30Km/18Miles = 2 hours. That's 9 Miles Per Hour. Perfect. I have my base.

Setting up the machine at 9 Miles Per Hour to start off, I thank my lucky stars I had a 20 minute walk to warm things up. The lunges and squats I did in the parking lot are helping out too. Everything seems to be going alright. I creep up to 9.5 Miles per hour and figure out an interval system:

1/2 a Mile at 9MPH, followed by 1/2 a Mile at 9.5 MPH. It's JUST enough of a difference for my legs to notice. I want to be roughly paced out here, but I want to make that 9MPH pace seem like the rest period. That, my friends is how I build my base. Surprisingly, I held out for the entire 40 Minutes. That worked out to a little more than 6 Miles, but I'll call it 6.

After a quick wipe-down of treadmill #1, I grabbed some water and hit up treadmill #2, right back at 9MPH. No rest for the wicked! The first 1/2 Mile flew by, and I cranked it up to 10 this time. I know I'll be eating a Power Gel in about 10 minutes, so I can afford to burn a few calories. 20 Minutes in and I've passed the 3 Mile Mark, or 5Km, however you want to look at it. I take a few sips from my water bottle and chomp down the sugary, caffeinated Electrolyte Gel. It takes a couple of minutes, but I can soon feel my legs lifting up more effortlessly, my brain begins to dance in the sugary delight, and I'm off to the races again. How about 10 Miles Per Hour? Sure, half a mile won't kill me. From 10, down to 9, back and forth to the 40 minute mark. Before I even knew it, I killed 20KM. I'm liking this treadmill stuff so far. Everything feels good. Now, onto treadmill #3.

There's a sign on the wall that says that during heavy activity, our bodies require 1 cup of water every 15 minutes. There's no way in hell I've had that much water, and by the looks of the sweat pool under Treadmill #2, I've lost more than the average human. I'm kind of like a sno-cone left outside in the sun for a while. My wrapper is all soaked, and there's nothing left behind to vouch for my existence other than a large puddle of sticky, gross liquid. I'm a sno-cone.

The last stretch is always the hardest. I sip cool water to keep my body temperature down, and pick a spot on the wall to focus on. It's the white border of a STAFF ONLY sign on the equipment room door. It's right at eye height, so it's a good zoner-outer. My legs are feeling sluggish again, but there's no point eating another Gel. It's time to burn up what's left in the ol' energy stores. When I'm working hard, I can smell the finish line and it only motivates me more. Let's Giver! Screw the intervals. It's 9.5 Miles per hour or nothin. I'm on my horse and we're in a good rhythm. At this rate, I'll be finished 10K in under 40 Minutes. And that's just what I did! As the 6 Mile marker rolled over, I pressed the "Cool Down" button and gradually slowed down to a walk for the last 2 minutes, taking some extra-long steps to stretch out the hips and hamstrings. Ahhhhh

Here's the weird thing: When I stepped off the treadmill, my body felt all weird and like my legs didn't want to be planted on the ground. It was really easy to lift my legs up, but I had this swimming feeling in my head, sort of like a gentle head rush. After wiping down the machine, I downed some water and headed to the sauna. I might as well keep this sweat going and let all the toxins seep out of my pores. When I'm good and drained out, I replace my mineral losses with a Recovery Drink and venture out on my 20-minute Cooldown walk back to my humble abode. It's still raining, but I managed to change into dry clothes, fresh socks and shoes, and I've never felt better. I'll sleep well tonight.



*Tip: Treadmills, while not good to use all the time, can help to simulate a longer run at race pace, assuming that the treadmill is accurate, and the runner is using a natural, comfortable stride, extending the leg and lifting the knee. Throw a treadmill into your training schedule once a week, or do like I did: save it for a rainy day.

Speedwork Wednesday, Clinic-Style

Last night I resurrected the Running Room's "Personal Best" Clinic, a program designed for anyone trying to improve their speed or build a base fitness level. It's great for marathon runners, because 1 night a week, you're doing speed work anyway. It's marketed towards the 10K group right now, so you should be able to run a 10K in around 50 minutes, without stopping. It's sort of a dual clinic you can do with any race.

The night started off pretty well. I had 4 participants, which makes for a small group, but for me, it's my first time being Mr Instructor, so I think it might be the perfect size for now, and I lucked out because everybody's super keen. They'll probably tell their friends. I talked to everyone to find out their personal goals and try to understand what motivates them. Lots of different stories. Turns out, not everyone is a marathon distance runner looking to finish well under 3 hours one day. Go figure!

After a quick warmup jog, we arrived at Brockton Oval in the heart of Stanley Park. 400 meters is the distance around the Oval, which is a gravel track, about 6 lanes perfectly level. My idea of Interval training involves starting out with a rest period just as long as the work period, until I can gradually cut down the resting period to say, half of the working time. To start off the group, I went with 1 to 1 work/rest ratio. Thus, it's a 400 meter fast run/sprint, followed by a 400 meter jog or walk. We'll get to 400/200 soon enough, but it was dang hot outside too. One of the clinic members told me he cycled 40 KM earlier the same day also. Yeah.

I explained a few items off the top, like track etiquette, giving the inside lap to fast people, etc.

Here is the key lesson from tonight's clinic:

Your Last Lap Is The One That Counts

I'm keeping a log book with everyone's names and their 400m times. Here's the thing, I write down your last lap in the book. I informed the group of this beforehand, and everyone who had a watch agreed to the honour system. One guy didn't have a watch, so I started alongside him and kept the clock running after I finished, until he crossed the line.

Bang. We all set off. I actually said, "Bang" too. Forgot my starter's pistol at home.

I could tell everyone's first lap was pretty fast. We're nervous. I paced myself around those sluggish corners, but used the straightaways to burn away; showing an example of efficient hard running. I kept an eye on my form and adjusted my stride a little bit to run alongside a member. As I leaned into the final turn, the last straightaway presented itself. It's time to go home now. Running Track & Releasing Adrenaline go hand in hand, apparently. I scorched that last straightaway and turned around, walking backwards as I watched the other members roll in. How sweet it is to see everybody finish hard. I make a mental note of everyone's time. Now a nice, easy jogging lap.

My next two fast laps were more maintenance runs, where I'd come in alongside another clinic member, talk to them, get them talking to me on the jog around, and then burn off at the start line. The 2nd, 3rd lap I didn't even keep time. After my last sprint, I just waited off to the side until everyone finished. It's time for one of my patented Braveheart speeches. Not really. I informed everyone that "This one's for all the marbles" in a Stallone-esque or MacGiver-ly tone. They didn't know I was serious. By the looks on the winded faces, and my own sweat-drenched shirt (Hey Nike, Dry Fit This!) these guys probably can't wait to finish.

Bang. We're off.

I'm not running with anybody this time. I want to challenge myself in the future, so my last lap today is going to be FAST! Off the blocks I'm working as hard as I can, lifting those knees, pumping the arms at a fixed yet relaxed 90% angle, digging in and using my low center of gravity. I'm leaning into the first corner like a motorcyclist, but there are two slow runners taking up the inside lane. Oh well, a little extra work never hurt anybody. I swerve to pass, and one of them gets into the second lane, yelling, "Move over" to the guy in front of him. I swerve over into the 3rd lane and put the setback behind me. burning into the last corner, I wasn't low enough, so I focused on lifting my knees. I know I take way more strides than I have to, especially when I'm holding my body upright as in distance running. When the corner ends, I can see a couple of people looking at me on the sidelines. Here we go!

I shift into low gear and take off with powerful explosive strides, not exactly gazelle-like. I'm pounding this track like a gumball machine that ate my quarter! Finally, I find my stride's sweet spot and a race through the finish line. 1:09. That's perfect. I can get that down to under a minute on my last lap. The others finished, with one runner netting an impressive 1:14. We're setting ourselves up for some hard work, plateauing, and then getting crazy. That's exactly how I like to train. If we hit the track and hit it hard, the last half of those longer runs will be a lot easier. I feel stronger after doing speed work. I can't wait to do another track workout. Perhaps Sunday?

If anyone would likes the sounds of this and would like to join this clinic, visit or send me a message.

The Hills of Galiano

We gotta do what we gotta do.

Even when you're on vacation, if you're serious about running, you have to find ways to fit in your training runs. I did such a thing this weekend while camping on Galiano Island, which is in the Gulf Islands off the Coast of BC. I rode my bike from the Ferry Terminal at Sturdies Bay to Montague Harbour, a modest 7K bike ride with some suicide hills thrown in to keep you honest.

The hills I'm talking about are like none I've encountered in Vancouver. There is one hill I call the Triple Threat, which starts off with about a 45 degree climb, levels out, steepens, levels out, steepens again and then crests. This is where a hill runner like me should thrive. Should. I Should get to bed early so I can rest up for the run. Should.

I decided to wake up early before anyone else in the campsite and get this run over with before it heated up. 6am is totally out of the question, so I started out around 7:30-ish. It was pretty foggy and cold, which is odd for this time of year, but I'll take it over the heat. There was one other runner out on the road, but I'm not sure how far she went. She didn't look like she was working very hard... Once my legs warmed up, I felt like I could make some pretty good time.

My route is simple. 7K from Montague Harbour to the ferry terminal at Sturdies Bay, touch the water, turn and come back the same way. There's just one thing I forgot; what comes up must come down. I'm still working on my downhill stride. Grinding up the Triple Threat, I could feel the effects of yesterday's bike ride. You really use a different muscle group cycling than you do with running, but the hips are still tired out. Coming down the Triple Threat was even harder than going up, but once things leveled out, I was feeling okay. Okay. Normally, a 14K run would take me no more than an hour if I'm running at race pace (40 min/10K). Today's run took me an hour and a half. I was working as hard as I could, but those hills chewed me up and spat me out. Today's run reminds me that I can't rest on my laurels. I have a lot of work to do and it's time to break out the old weight routine again. Squats, Lunges, the Plank, Calf Raises and jumping rope are all in the forecast. Until next time, Galiano. You can bet I'll be more prepared.


Montague Harbour, Galiano Island.