36th MCM

What I learned:

• The after-effects of a full effort marathon last longer than 4 weeks.
• If your hamstrings feel like they're at 90% when you start, they'll feel much less so as the race progresses.
• Expect more DOMS than after your first same-season run.
• You'll be slower than you expected, at least for your first same-season marathon.
• Don't attempt to start out even at a pace you objectively think you can hold. Start more slowly.
• (I didn't learn this, I had the good sense to forecast it.) As you decline, do not attempt to push through the exhaustion. Let your body slow down.
• The freebie breakfast at the Residence Inn is busiest at opening. If your hunger allows, wait till about 7:10 AM. (We knew this from previous stays, but manage to forget each year.
• After you're up for a while - at least if you're in good shape - the aches will subside and you will just have a sensation that nothing in your body is willing to move quickly. Specially your legs.
• Running with and for the Marines at the MCM is worth it, specially in time of war.

New Moon

On the morning of the new moon, it hung just above the horizon, minutes before the dawn. The tiniest sliver shone bright gold, while the rest of the orb glowed dimly with Earth shine. Counter-intuitively, the orb blended almost indistinguishably with the blue morning sky, making its boundary nearly imperceptible.

This morning, at 5:45 AM, I experienced another why I run moment.

I woke Denise up with a cup of coffee in bed and the pounding sounds of the Village People singing "In the Navy" and "YMC". I guess the life of an endurance junky's spouse isn't easy. We went for her run, then I did a few more miles.

We have some good winds out of the NW after yesterday's rains. This is a pattern that repeats all winter. Runner's who have done the MCM more than once know it well: those last 6 miles are often into a stiff wind from the NW as run from Crystal City to the Iwo Jima Memorial.

7 miles today, once again. I had hoped to get in 10, but I'm struggling to get out by the requisite 5:30 AM start time for a 10-miler.

Missed Destiny

I took vertebrate zoology as an undergrad in that major. It became obvious to me at that time that humans had evolved to be best long distance runners in the animal kingdom. I let life's distractions lead me away from that first academic love and the revolutionary insight that I had nurtured. Someone else pursued my insight and brought it into focus: http://barefootrunning.fas.harvard.edu/

Corning Wineglass Marathon

What I learned at Corning:

• Don't start off at a pace you instinctively feel is too fast saying: "We'll just see what happens."
• You won't be able to "will" your way through the consequences of the first bullet.
• Adjust for the weather. If its 42 F and raining, don't try to take 15 minutes off your PR with the rationalization that the course is mostly down hill.
• Static stretching after seems to break up adhesions. It alleviates the soreness and stiffness.
• 26 miles is roughly 3000 calories. 10%-15% of those are from metabolized protein. You may need the carbs right away, but get that protein.
• A technical long sleeved top, shorts, gloves are sufficient for 42 F with rain and light winds.  
• When a big rain drop hits the bridge of your nose, it bursts in a small explosion of water. This is usually entertaining. At mile 22, deep into a wall you brought on yourself, it is startling and a little surreal.
• If its raining, use the BodyGlide in places you wouldn't normally expect.

Limits

We place limits on ourselves defining what we consider reasonable. I realized how easily these limits can be pushed back last winter. Denise and I started to experiment with trail running. As the cold deepened, we began running the trail under increasingly snowy and icey conditions. I remember driving out to Greenbelt National Park with Denise sharing doubts that the Perimeter Trail would be runnable only to arrive and run it, enjoying the challenge and novelty.

Today's run was one of those moments where my sense of what is reasonable was expanded. Today's run was 10 miles in 60 F rain, occasionally breezy and heavy. I can't say it was fun. My legs were feeling heavy and the sensation was increased by water-logged shoes. I also went into the run feeling sluggish and my clammy technical fabric top did not help my mindset. It was too warm for my hat, so I left it. Water drops hit my eyes on occasion, leaving red-eyed by end of the run. I occasionally inhaled the rain, choking on it lightly.

Sitting

I did not run today or so far this week. My 50-mile training week left me with several aches and pains which inclined me to a week off. Additionally, early meetings, a doctor's appointment, and paperwork all collaborated to consume the early morning time I usually set aside for training my body.

This morning I spent extra time doing my stretching routine, which primarily has its Western-style emphasis on muscle flexibility but also includes yoga elements of focus and relaxation. I did my zen-sitting.

Running and zen-sitting have much in common. They are extremely simple in practice. The act of running is the simplicity of performing what humans are naturally engineered to do best. There are no external aids that can enhance the core experience. It is simplicity of the body. The act zen-sitting is a conscious disassociation from anything arising from externals. It is simplicity of the mind.