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Winter running seems to be a particular type of masochism where the runner alternates between being too cold due to the season and too hot due to running. Skilled runners seem to manage to be slightly uncomfortable for the whole process until they stop running and then turn into fitsicles when hit by a stiff wind.

I have avoided winter running so far and don’t venture out when the temperature’s below 45 degrees. I have a nice treadmill in front of a nice television, and my version of managing layers is being in a climate-controlled room. But, beating myself up has again become a hobby so I looked into winter runnning gear like leggings. I did my homework, went to Amazon, purchased a highly reviewed pair, selected my size and received a set of youth XL leggings. The item clearly listed the size of XL with Youth XL as another option, so I’m pinning this squarely on the sender. Regardless, I don’t know if it’s a testament to my weight loss or the elasticity of polyester, but I fit in them regardless.
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If they didn’t crotch about three inches below where they should, I could actually run in them, or so I thought. After the minute it took for me to take this picture my feet had gone numb.

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I woke up at 4 am, edited some photos until about 6am, ran a half marathon while talking to someone in a Google Hangout, dropped my car off to be repaired, ran home, took a nap, and started preparing some chicken and cheese for Mike who came over for dinner. These are my Sundays.

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The Rock and Roll Half Marathon was supposed to be a triumph for myself and my previous coworkers but I was the only one of the original 10 that ran it. I headed out from Somerton station at 6:14 and the train slowly filled with people in running clothing. Then Suburban Station filled with people in running clothing. Then Logan Square filled with people in running clothing. Then the area outside the Art Museum filled with people in running clothing.

I was in coral 18 of 25 with again, mostly women my age and older healthy looking men. Each coral was released about 90 seconds after the previous and I set off at 8:25. Here were my mile times:

Mile 1 – 8:35
Mile 2 – 8:45
Mile 3 – 8:55
Mile 4 – 9:06
Mile 5 – 9:16
Mile 6 – 9:25
Mile 7 – 9:35
Mile 8 – 9:45
Mile 9 – 9:55
Mile 10 – 10:05
Mile 11 – 10:15
Mile 12 – 10:25
Mile 13 – 10:35
Finish – 10:36:10

I feel this kind of timing consistency is a byproduct of training almost exclusively on a treadmill.

The bump in time around mile 4 was due to me having several text message conversations during which I slowed down a little. During the Broad Street Run I made arrangements for Anthony Celona’s bachelor party so I guess this was apropos. I also guess that since I had the energy to text I probably wasn’t pushing myself. I was able to walk like a non-drunkard immediately after finishing, enjoyed some chocolate milk, and walked easily the six blocks to the train station. I wasn’t destroyed, just sweaty and while I developed a few salt deposits I was presentable enough to meet someone for lunch. My feet had blistered and stairs hurt my knees but otherwise I just felt tired.

Maybe I try for a full marathon next time.

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A side effect of a ketogenic diet has been a nose-dive in my ability to do distance running. Once a week, I try to run 10 or more miles in a single stretch and this week and last I’ve simply not been able to go more than about 8 before I reach a level of discomfort where I don’t want to continue. This isn’t exhaustion or muscle failure but simply not wanting to run any more. So I suppose the alternate explanation is that keto has not reduced my stamina, but turned me into a bitch, albeit a lighter one.

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The Broad Street Run had jazzed me up about running and now I wanted to do it with other people. After yesterday’s race, the members of the Temple contingent swapped notes and stories and I enjoyed this part of the event much more than I thought I would.

Today, I walked around work asking people if they wanted to do the Rock n’ Roll Half Marathon. The answers I received were varied:

Julia: Sure.
Joe: Can you ask me a month from now?
Carl: No.
Everett: Can I say yes, then bail on you while training?
Pauline: Ok, sounds hard, but I’ll do it.

That last one was a victory. Once Pauline jumped on board, I used her as a club.

John B: No thank you.
Me: But Pauline’s doing it.
John B: The short woman from EHS?
Me: Yep. You’re not going to let her beat you, are you?
John B: Dammit. I’ll do it.

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I arrived at Temple University at 6 AM and received my shirt and number and stood among the group of people that appeared vastly fitter than me.  The group was composed of policemen and actuaries/underwriters and having little else to talk about we BSed about weather and sports.  We bused to the starting point of the race and I looked for my corral which corresponded to how quickly I thought I’d finish the race.  I said 2 hours and my cohort consisted of reasonably fit older folks and slightly plump 20 somethings which seemed appropriate.  The race began at 8:00 AM, my wave began at 8:45 AM and I was off on my first race that meant anything.

From SuburbanAdventureRehost

At the bottom of the picture are orange stripes lined by blue.  Each of the race bibs had a sensor strip in them that talked to these boxes and were used to log time per mile.  This allowed for me to start the race after the first runner had probably finished and still be ranked accurately.

Notes:

  • Many people ran as a team and I myself had a giant Temple “T” on my back.  One team was “Black Women Run”.  Someone had a slightly messed up shirt that said “Black Women, Run”.  That’s a very different team.
  • Favorite sign: Worst Parade Ever
  • People I saw running: Several people dressed as green man, someone in a tutu, and a bad-ass fellow in Marine fatigues who ran the entire race waving a giant American flag.
  • The early miles had a lot of bands playing.  As I passed Temple, their band was out playing and I found this strangely encouraging.
  • The cross streets were all closed to cars but pedestrians could still cross.  At one point there was a blind woman crossing.  Wow.
  • Each time I ran under a traffic light that was a red a neuron fired going “I ran a red light, tee hee”.
  • You could tell what kind of hydration station you were approaching by whether or not it was sticky (Gatorade) or not (water).
  • John Andelfinger was on one of the islands in the street.  I stopped to chat for a few seconds and we made dinner plans.
  • About a 1/3 of a mile from the finish line a man ran up next to me and said “hey, you keep a consistent pace.  My running group has been following you since mile 3.  How do you keep your pace?”  “I train on a treadmill and that’s about it.”  I bolted.

For the first five miles of the race Billy Penn grew taller and taller as you approached City Hall and then the skyline diminished as you approached the Navy Yard.  The first five miles were fun, the next three were boring, the last two were brutal.  As you run you use both the fine muscles that control micromovements as well as the large muscles that power you forward.  Eventually, the fine muscles give out and the large ones take over and you begin to pound pavement.  Upon crossing the finish line, most people fall back on these fine control muscles to walk and discover they are completely gone and have to use the larger ones to control their walking which is quite hard.  Everyone looks drunk.  Since everyone does this as they cross the finish line there is a standing wave where people turn from runners to drunkards which is quite fun to watch.  I finished in 1 hour 35 minutes and was very happy with that time.

We returned to Temple and I enjoyed myself at the barbecue which had Yoohoo chocolate drink and chicken sausages.  I ate and talked and ate and talked and found out later that I had eaten more in calories than I had burned running the previous 10 miles.  Time to go home and burn those calories off on the treadmill.  Hazaa…

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Six miles for the March of Dimes seemed like an easy idea but I had never before run so far on asphalt nor in front of this many people.  Kelly, Jess, and I started together and I kept to my rule of “I’ll go at your pace as long as you are actually running”.  This held up for two miles before one of them needed to walk, and then again every half mile or so.  At about 3.5 miles, I asked if they’d mind if I continued without them and they politely allowed me to depart.  I took off.  At around mile four I shot up a hill without tiring and thought to myself “ah, that’s what adrenaline feels like”.  At around mile five, I was taken in by the sound of birds, the breeze, and the bucolic scene and thought to myself “ah, that’s what endorphines feel like”.   If I didn’t finish first I came damn close.  But this wasn’t a real race so I ran back and caught up with Jess and Kelly and literally pushed them to the finish line.

The whole experience was strangely fun until about two hours later when I had the feeling that my body was breaking down.  Every joint in my body was seemingly seizing up and 1/2 my muscles hurt.  In my contorted state I googled “running stretches” and learned the depth of my folly when I saw all the things I had failed to do.  We need a run for warm-up, stretching, and cool down awareness.

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Gina is a friend of mine from High School that recently moved back to Philadelphia and has taken to running.  We got together for dinner at Beau Monde, a creperie on 6th and Bainbridge that I remember enjoying in High School.  The entire wait staff was in skintight leather and the crepes were good.  I remember one of those from high school but wonder if the other was what really made the selection for me.  Gina and I talked and we went over our recent past.  She had apparently gained and then lost a lot of weight, started and then quit smoking, and dated and then stopped recently but now had a vastly better job.  I had gained and lost a lot of weight, gained and then lost a neat job (medical device start-up gig), and started and stopped dating, but now I had a vastly improved cardiovascular capacity.  I’d prefer the job.

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Me: Want to running this weekend?
Kelly: Actually some friends and I are running at BCCC if you want to join.
Me: Sure, what time?
Kelly: Around 10 AM.
Me: Ok.

*Call later*

Kelly: What size shirt are you?
Me: XL, wait, what’s this for, have I been conned into running for something?
Kelly: Yes, but don’t worry, it’s free and there’s food.
Me: Ghaaaaa, what am I supporting?
Kelly: Infant diseases.
Me: Dammit, I can’t argue with that one.
Kelly: See you at 10.

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Mike: I see on Facebook you’ve been running 5ks. What’s your time down to?
Me: Around 24 minutes is my best time. Nothing crazy.
Mike: Still better than me, which is annoying.
Me: Why? I am nearly half your age.
Mike: Yes, you may have youth but I have a personal trainer and very expensive running shoes. What do you have?
Me: A treadmill with over a thousand miles on it and shoes I got for $40.00 on Amazon.