Being freed from work, like a wild bird escaping a cage, I fled to the woods. I had almost forgotten how much I love running the trail that follows the Willamette River in the Mollala River State Park. A few years ago I came here nearly every day with my dogs and we would run and hike the trails, play in the water, and explore the underbrush. There was a regular group of us. Funny, I can remember the dogs easily enough: Raven, Shiloh, and Mickey. But it took me a lot of thought to match the human names with their canine companions: Jim, Red, and Carol. Thinking back to those days, with my wolfhound Tonks who I lost to cancer 2 years ago, and my goofball Hugo, it made me a little melancholy for times gone by, and a companion lost. But the park hadn't changed much.
It is a narrow path, more overgrown than it used to be, that twists and turns, dips and rises, over fallen logs, under downed trees. Damp, packed dirt under my favorite running shoes, a canopy of giant trees above my head, rainforest dense underbrush hiding a plethora of small, woodland creatures. The air feels thick with newly produced oxygen, loaded with positive ions from the wind blowing across millions of fir needles. The air is so loaded it acts like a performance enhancing drug in my system. I run slow and easy. The narrow, winding path doesn't allow for anything else. I am so relaxed, yet alert. In my mind I can imagine ultra-endurance trail running, or that I have slipped back in time a thousand years and am running through the woods to carry tribal lore from one small village to the next. I run easy. I feel like I can run forever. But I know better. I know better than to over-do it on my poor body, which has had a helluva time recovering from a continual array of pain and injury. My run was only about three miles, but it was an excellent three miles.
A powerful run left me still wanting to burn energy. Of course I had my swim bag, and had planned to hit the pool. Today I decided to do The One Hour Challenge: How far can you swim in 60 minutes. I warmed up with 500 yards of mixed strokes: breast, back, and crawl. Then I slipped into my I-can-do-this-all-day pace. Lap after lap, letting my mind wander. Today was a good day for this, I had been enjoying being inside my own head from the moment I escaped work. I hadn't even turned on music in the car, enjoying silence instead. Lap after lap. At about lap 55 I was feeling a little bit of fatigue in my shoulders, so, being the weirdo that I am, I decided to pick up the pace a little. Besides, this really does help train for a strong finish when racing, and I thought I was only a few laps from the end. I had expected to swim about 1 minute laps so at lap 60 I checked the clock and was surprised to see that I still had about 10 minutes. So I swam on, still pushing myself, really putting some power behind my strokes. I ended up swimming 70 laps = 3500 yards = 1.989 miles. I was pleased with myself for sure. Finished up with a 250 yard cool-down. Total swim 4250 yards = 2.41 miles. A good swim. I do think I will add this swim into the rotation about every 3rd week, it is a good way to measure progress.
Of course, I followed my swim with the now mandatory 30 minute leg work in the water. I am convinced that this hydro physical therapy is what let me run the Freedom 5K with little joint pain. And it is likely why I am not having joint pain in the days after the race. Yes, It was a slow run for me. My asthma kicked up about mile 2 so I had to slow to a brisk walk a couple of times to get my breathing under control. And it was my first 5K run since the same event last year. I have been too damaged to run in the last year. Now I am thinking/hoping/wishing that I have figured out how to run again without damaging myself. Only time, and more running, will tell. For the moment, I am just stoked to have rediscovered the trail along the river.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Long, Strong, and Silent
Tonight should have been a Sprint Set swim. That really was the plan. Last night was power, tonight was sprint. I got to the pool so tired, stiff, and sore that I almost didn't swim. I was very tempted to just head for the Jacuzzi. But no, that is not my style. I slipped into the water and started with my standard warmup, with a minor alteration, halving the set: 50 yards each breast stroke, backstroke, crawl (normally I do 100 yards each). Every muscle felt tight and sore. Every. Muscle. I was going to do a few sets to warmup, it turned into 7 sets = 21 laps = 1050 yards. Time for Sprint sets. I swam on lap at a moderate sprint pace, and realized I was still too too, I was going to strain something if I tried to sprint. I hung on the edge of the pool for a moment, thinking of calling it a day and crawling into the Jacuzzi. Not my style.
What to do? What to do? When speed and/or power are beyond the scope of the day's training, no matter what the schedule says, it is time to change the plan. I decided to focus on technique. More precisely, on swimming as silently as possible. The reason being that the quieter the stroke, the more efficient it can be. I try to swim quietly at all times, though the faster the swim the louder it gets. There isn't much you can do about that. I continued with the same type of set: 50 yards each breast, back, and crawl. Mostly because my muscles were sore enough I wanted to keep changing the muscles being used. But now I was focusing on making each stroke long, strong, and silent. Extending my reach as far as possible, lengthening my entire body from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes. Grab the water and pull, keeping my fingers pointed to the bottom of the pool, and my palms facing back. Pulling myself through the water until my hands pass my waist and it becomes a push. Then pushing all the way through until my thumbs brush my mid-thigh. Easy, relaxed recovery. The hand slipping silently back into the water to repeat the stroke. The only noise was the sound of my own breathing. I would hold my breath and hear only the slightest ripple of my hand entering the water. Long, strong, and silent. This continued for another 7 sets, for a total swim of 2100 yards. Not too bad for being tired and sore.
I did an abbreviated leg workout, only 2 sets (about 20 minutes), because my legs were every bit as tight and sore as my upper body. Like I said, every muscle felt tight and sore. Every. Muscle. Of course, by the time I was done in the pool I was feeling much improved. I slid into the hot Jacuzzi and let myself melt into the heat. In a few minutes I was drowsy and yawning. But the day was not over yet.
Saturday is my self-asskicking upper body night. I still had strength training to do once I got home. I drank half a cup of coffee and ate another banana (I eat a lot of bananas), fed the animals, then launched into an intense upper body workout with resistance bands, hand weights, barbell, and pushups. Tonight was 12 various exercises (done in supersets of 4 exercises), 15-20 reps each, 3 sets each. I was quivering, sucking wind, and starving by the time I was done. It was a productive evening for starting out tired and sore. But then, I am not inclined to let that stop me, even if it may slow me down a bit sometimes.
What to do? What to do? When speed and/or power are beyond the scope of the day's training, no matter what the schedule says, it is time to change the plan. I decided to focus on technique. More precisely, on swimming as silently as possible. The reason being that the quieter the stroke, the more efficient it can be. I try to swim quietly at all times, though the faster the swim the louder it gets. There isn't much you can do about that. I continued with the same type of set: 50 yards each breast, back, and crawl. Mostly because my muscles were sore enough I wanted to keep changing the muscles being used. But now I was focusing on making each stroke long, strong, and silent. Extending my reach as far as possible, lengthening my entire body from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes. Grab the water and pull, keeping my fingers pointed to the bottom of the pool, and my palms facing back. Pulling myself through the water until my hands pass my waist and it becomes a push. Then pushing all the way through until my thumbs brush my mid-thigh. Easy, relaxed recovery. The hand slipping silently back into the water to repeat the stroke. The only noise was the sound of my own breathing. I would hold my breath and hear only the slightest ripple of my hand entering the water. Long, strong, and silent. This continued for another 7 sets, for a total swim of 2100 yards. Not too bad for being tired and sore.
I did an abbreviated leg workout, only 2 sets (about 20 minutes), because my legs were every bit as tight and sore as my upper body. Like I said, every muscle felt tight and sore. Every. Muscle. Of course, by the time I was done in the pool I was feeling much improved. I slid into the hot Jacuzzi and let myself melt into the heat. In a few minutes I was drowsy and yawning. But the day was not over yet.
Saturday is my self-asskicking upper body night. I still had strength training to do once I got home. I drank half a cup of coffee and ate another banana (I eat a lot of bananas), fed the animals, then launched into an intense upper body workout with resistance bands, hand weights, barbell, and pushups. Tonight was 12 various exercises (done in supersets of 4 exercises), 15-20 reps each, 3 sets each. I was quivering, sucking wind, and starving by the time I was done. It was a productive evening for starting out tired and sore. But then, I am not inclined to let that stop me, even if it may slow me down a bit sometimes.
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