Psst! Yeah, you runner dude. The one with the John Stockton shorts and wires sticking out of your ears. Yeah, hey, can we be honest with each other for a second? I mean let's just get this out in the open once and for all. You know what I'm talking about. How when we aren't doing jack and someone asks how our training is going and we all lie our butts off telling then we're "base training" when what we really mean to say is that we're between races and don't have a freaking clue about what the hell we're doing out there and we're just making it up as we go along. C'mon, that's our fall back answer when we're dinkin' around. "Uhhh (sniff), I'm base training right now."
But seriously I DID have high hopes and a genuine interest in doing the right thing this cycle. My weight was exactly where I wanted it for starting the higher miles. I had no real injuries. My schedule was conducive to the time needed. And I had an expert trainer to keep me on task and maximize my time spent doing the long and slow. It was all there ready to go. But then...
...but then I ticked off my "E-coach". I'm not going to get into what happened because there are two sides to every story. But in my opinion two things must exist in a coach-student relationship: mutual respect and good communication. I respected his advice, but I didn't always feel his love in return. And this time around he had a BlackBerry and so his messages had become short and I suspect, on-the-fly. I'm the type that appreciates a little explanation on top of the bottom line. It's part of the journey for me to understand what we're doing. With much regret and with a ton of appreciation for all his time already spent, I had to give up this expert advice. I'm still not over it.
I still had his general base training plan: alternate weeks of 60 miles and 40 miles and keep the pace very slow. The idea was to build strength and endurance but not get hurt by pushing too hard. I was ready to go. I ran 31 miles the week before and bumped up to 42 miles the next. My plan was for 50 miles the following week, but...
...but I was at work carrying some bulky equipment back to the fire engine at an apartment building when I stepped off a retaining wall into the parking lot. A resident there had put a landscape brick, one of those gray wedge shaped types, at the bottom of the wall - apparently as a step. I didn't know it was there and my right foot hit the edge of it, buckled and rolled me right to the ground. I hobbled around for awhile cursing under my breath.
Two weeks later and I'm just now feeling like things are back to where I can run. I did a couple of light runs last week (shouldn't have) just to get out, but now feel okay.
So much for establishing a good base!
In a few days I'll be 16 weeks from the Portland Marathon. Tempo runs and speedwork will take over. So go ahead and ask me then how my training is going! I'll have plenty to talk about.
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