2005: Running review
What the @#$% happened to me in 2005?
I never really hit my stride. I didn't achieve the degree of fitness I aspired to. I didn't reclaim the endurance speed, however modest, I once had. I couldn't seem to stay healthy.
It's easy to blame these self-proclaimed inadequacies on illness and injury. There were plenty of those to derail me. In fact, 2005 ranks as my most unhealthy year as a runner. I suffered through some sort of respiratory crud for most of first third of the year. It took until May before my wheeze went away. Unfortunately, it was replaced by ankle problems just before Grandma's Marathon.
My right ankle remained swollen for more than a month straddling the marathon. I can't even pinpoint the source of the injury. Maybe it happened any one of the several times I tweaked my ankle during training runs. Maybe it happened when I couldn't get my cycling shoe out of a pedal as I came to a stop and I felt a brief 'POP' in my ankle. Whatever the cause, the resulting trauma to the ankle didn't seem significant at the time. It didn't hurt much later, either. But the swelling persisted. That, I believe, resulted in a chain reaction of nuisances that ultimately caused another injury.
The swelling caused blisters that affected the way I ran. My stride changed. I ran more cautiously, less fluidly. It was like my lower body was out of whack every time I ran. I ran in fear that my wheels would fall off. The finish line at Twin Cities Marathon didn't come a moment too soon. Immediately upon finishing, I experienced a pain in my hip unlike any I had experienced.
What hurt worse, though, were my marathon times. I don't set a lot of running goals for myself. I keep 'em simple: I want to run at least 1000 miles annually and I want to improve my marathon times. in 2005, I succeeded in the former (big deal), failed miserably on the latter (BIG DEAL).
I finished on the slow side of 3:30 in both marathons I ran. I want to say that's unacceptable. For me. For this time in my running career. But that's unreasonable, I'm told. The injuries were responsible for running four minutes slower than I had a year earlier, I'm told.
I fear the real reason for my slower times is worse than injury. I got soft. I lost my fire, my intensity. Sure, I made my goal for annual miles. I ran more miles (1111.9) than I had in any other year except 2003. I became more consistent. I ran more often (177 runs and two marathons). I averaged a 10K everytime I headed out the door. Heck, at one point I even got into a groove that found me making weekly trips to the local high school track for speed work.
But more often than not it felt like I was going through the motions. Just running for the sake of running. Just putting in miles to get them done. I didn't spend enough time hurting because of effort, not injury. I didn't push hard enough. For that, there is no excuse.
But there is a new year to make adjustments and improvements. I'm beyond the point of running marathons simply to finish. I want to improve. I am not an elite runner. Not even close. Never was, never will be. But I would like to qualify for Boston someday. Preferably some day before I'm 70.
At my best, I was less than 11 minutes away from qualifying. I'm not going to improve that much anytime soon, if ever. But in a couple of years I'll enter a new age group and five minutes will be added to my qualifying time. That leaves me needing to shave only about six or so minutes off my PR in the coming years. That can be done.
A healthier, hungrier, more intense me can do that. Can I do it this year? Stay tuned.
I never really hit my stride. I didn't achieve the degree of fitness I aspired to. I didn't reclaim the endurance speed, however modest, I once had. I couldn't seem to stay healthy.
It's easy to blame these self-proclaimed inadequacies on illness and injury. There were plenty of those to derail me. In fact, 2005 ranks as my most unhealthy year as a runner. I suffered through some sort of respiratory crud for most of first third of the year. It took until May before my wheeze went away. Unfortunately, it was replaced by ankle problems just before Grandma's Marathon.
My right ankle remained swollen for more than a month straddling the marathon. I can't even pinpoint the source of the injury. Maybe it happened any one of the several times I tweaked my ankle during training runs. Maybe it happened when I couldn't get my cycling shoe out of a pedal as I came to a stop and I felt a brief 'POP' in my ankle. Whatever the cause, the resulting trauma to the ankle didn't seem significant at the time. It didn't hurt much later, either. But the swelling persisted. That, I believe, resulted in a chain reaction of nuisances that ultimately caused another injury.
The swelling caused blisters that affected the way I ran. My stride changed. I ran more cautiously, less fluidly. It was like my lower body was out of whack every time I ran. I ran in fear that my wheels would fall off. The finish line at Twin Cities Marathon didn't come a moment too soon. Immediately upon finishing, I experienced a pain in my hip unlike any I had experienced.
What hurt worse, though, were my marathon times. I don't set a lot of running goals for myself. I keep 'em simple: I want to run at least 1000 miles annually and I want to improve my marathon times. in 2005, I succeeded in the former (big deal), failed miserably on the latter (BIG DEAL).
I finished on the slow side of 3:30 in both marathons I ran. I want to say that's unacceptable. For me. For this time in my running career. But that's unreasonable, I'm told. The injuries were responsible for running four minutes slower than I had a year earlier, I'm told.
I fear the real reason for my slower times is worse than injury. I got soft. I lost my fire, my intensity. Sure, I made my goal for annual miles. I ran more miles (1111.9) than I had in any other year except 2003. I became more consistent. I ran more often (177 runs and two marathons). I averaged a 10K everytime I headed out the door. Heck, at one point I even got into a groove that found me making weekly trips to the local high school track for speed work.
But more often than not it felt like I was going through the motions. Just running for the sake of running. Just putting in miles to get them done. I didn't spend enough time hurting because of effort, not injury. I didn't push hard enough. For that, there is no excuse.
But there is a new year to make adjustments and improvements. I'm beyond the point of running marathons simply to finish. I want to improve. I am not an elite runner. Not even close. Never was, never will be. But I would like to qualify for Boston someday. Preferably some day before I'm 70.
At my best, I was less than 11 minutes away from qualifying. I'm not going to improve that much anytime soon, if ever. But in a couple of years I'll enter a new age group and five minutes will be added to my qualifying time. That leaves me needing to shave only about six or so minutes off my PR in the coming years. That can be done.
A healthier, hungrier, more intense me can do that. Can I do it this year? Stay tuned.
posted by RTG at 4:48 PM
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