Change the Stimulus

Do you do the same workouts all the time? Do you have a favorite running route you just can't break away from? Do you wear the same running shoes every day?

The beauty of the human body is its ability to adapt. In a training context, the body adapts over time to the stimuli (i.e. training) we throw at it. It's the basic "overload principle" of exercise physiology. A muscle must train at a level it isn't accustomed to in order to adapt. Over time, with the same stimuli, that's exactly what it does: adapt.
 

Once sufficient adaptation occurs, gains begin to slow and then plateau. So, we need to change the stimulus. 

Earlier this week I went for about a 45 minute base run. Nothing crazy, just a moderate effort with no watch running by feel. The change up came when I ditched running on the asphalt- or concrete-paved road, to running on the grass alongside it.

I spend about 95% of my time running on paved surfaces. This after about 15 years of playing soccer where I ran almost entirely on grass. Since taking up running, my leg muscles have slowly adapted to the needs of running on pavement. But, when it comes to running on a trail, grass, or some other uneven surface, the muscle demands are different (think stabilizing muscles around your ankle). By running on grass, I reintroduced a different stimulus my legs haven't felt in a while.

So, when you decide to go for your next run, bike ride, swim, or any other workout, ask yourself if you need to throw something new at your body, or if it's just the same thing over and over again with the hope of improve results. And we all know what that means. 

Tempo Progression Run on the Treadmill

I traveled to Tulsa, Oklahoma earlier this week for work and that meant only one thing: treadmill workout at the hotel gym. 

Whenever I'm able to, I like to run the same day I fly into a new city. Ideally I run outside, which is my way of seeing the sites and getting the blood in my legs recirculating. But, since daylight was running out after I arrived, I hit the hotel gym for a treadmill session. Just a few minutes after warming up my legs felt surprising fresh. I'm still in the early phases of getting back into training, so most of my workouts have just been whatever I feel like doing on that particular day.

I felt great on this particular day. On the fly, I came up with this progression tempo run. It will definitely find its way back into my training down the road.

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(Everything at 1% incline)

20 minute warm up (build to about 30 seconds above lactate threshold, LT)

Alternate 5 minute work intervals and 5 minute recovery intervals as:

• (4) Work Intervals: #1 @ marathon pace --> #4 @ 5k pace (decrease by ~10-15 seconds every other 5 minutes)
• (4) Rest Intervals: #1- 45 seconds slower then work interval --> increase pace by same amount work intervals are decreased  

3 Focus Areas to Improve Biomechanics, Generate More Power, and Help You Run Faster

Biomechanics are a bit of a Pandora's box in the running community. Some say they're the ticket to getting faster and building endurance. Others think runners should just stick with what's comfortable and natural.

Regardless of which camp you fall into, there are a few fundamental aspects of running biomechanics that could influence running economy and performance, and certainly relate to injury prevention. Here are three areas to focus on if you're looking to improve your biomechanics, generate more power, and get faster.

1. Back Kick 

During the swing phase of the gait (when the foot is off the ground and moves from behind to in front of you), the foot acts like a pendulum. Your hip is the pivot point, and your leg and foot are "suspended" from the pivot point. When it comes to pendulums, there's one really important variable: the length between the pivot and whatever object is at the end of the pendulum. In this case, it's your foot. A shorter pendulum is faster (or in physics speak, oscillates with a smaller period). Applying this to running, from a biomechanical perspective, having a shorter leg pendulum would be most economical. How do you "shorten" the leg while running/walking? The back kick. In the picture below, you'll see how pronounced the back kick is in many elite runners (this one from the front group at this year's Twin Cities Marathon). The runner then actively brings the foot and leg forward through the gait by driving his knee. (One other thing to note: this is at mile 25!)

2. Knee Drive

As the right foot comes forward, the runner aggressively drives the knee upward and forward. This is where a lot of the runner's power comes from. But, he's only able to do this because of strong hip extensor muscles (muscles that are somewhat notorious for being weak in many runners). He engages his hip extensor muscles, and with a strong knee drive, also drives backwards with his left leg (the toe off part of the gait cycle). A pronounced knee drive also sets up the runner for an effective foot strike. See the next picture, particularly looking at the right leg/foot. The knee drive helps avoid excessive dorsiflexion of his foot. Dorsiflexion is when you point your toes upwards. Too much dorsiflexion usually sets a runner up for heal striking, while a more neutral position, such as in this picture, usually means a more mid-foot strike.

3. Foot Strike

Two big points on the foot strike. The first is that the runner strikes mostly at his mid-foot, which tends to generate less impact forces on the lower limb joints compared to heal striking. The second point is where the foot lands relative to the rest of the runner's body. It's almost directly under the runner's head and hips. In fact, you can basically draw a straight line from the top of the head, through the torso and hips, and finishing at the heal of the foot. Having this type of alignment, with the foot striking under the hips, enables the greatest amount of power to be generated.

By focusing on these three main factors over the past few years, I've seen some huge improvements in my own racing. For example, here's a side-by-side of what my "knee drive" looked like five years ago and what it is this year.

Take time to revisit the basics. Set a good foundation and the rest will follow.

How Rivalries Improve Performance

I love racing. Actually, let me rephrase that statement. I love to compete. My unyielding desire to test my abilities against other talented athletes is something I grew up nurturing. Though I think its deeply instinctual now, I have a pretty good idea where it came from.

Try growing up with a brother who is 18 months older than you and more physically gifted. For two active boys who loved sports, it was a recipe for daily competition. We grew up competing against each other in everything: one-on-one basketball in the driveway; wrestling on the living room floor (I have the scar on the back of my head to prove this one); and soccer training sessions when we played for the same team.

Soccer often got pretty intense. I dinstinctly remember one session where my brother and I went up against each other in a particular one-on-one drill. The offensive player had to break free from the defender, receive a pass from one of the other 4-5 guys surrounding the small box, and then pass the ball to a different player on the perimeter. Each pass I attempted, or if I held possession just a little too long, whack! I can't recall the number of times I ended up on the ground during that drill. His strength was overpowering. Ok, I'll be honest, I often got roughed up quite a bit. But it didn't matter. I fought harder. All I wanted to do was win. After each battle between us (during soccer and otherwise), I'd walk away hoping one day I could beat him.

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"You're one of the most competitive players I've coach," my longtime club soccer coach once told me a number of years back. I can recall those hot summer evenings training with my NJ Rangers club, the flood lights on, sweat pouring over me like I just got out of the pool, and always wanting to play for one more goal. If my side came up on the losing side of "next goal wins," it wasn't even a question, "one more," I'd always respond. Some nights we didn't have enough time to keep playing. Those were the sessions I left in a sour mood contemplating the ins and outs during an often silent ride home.

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Competition, and more specifically, rivalry, is a unique ergogenic aid. Pick your favorite sport and rivalry - Magic vs. Bird; Duke vs. UNC; Mo Farah vs. Kenenisa Bekele; or Mark Allen vs. Dave Scott - these battles seemingly bring out the best in both sides. I just finished reading Iron War, an account of the best triathlon ever run between two legends of Ironman, Dave Scott and Mark Allen, both six-time World Champions. What did rivalry produce between the two of them? In 1989, the two ran the marathon leg of the 1989 Ironman World Championships step for step until mile 24 when Mark Allen broke away from Dave Scott to win by a mere 59 seconds and set a run course record of 2:40:04, which still stands today.

There are good reasons to compete and seek out rivalry, that is, if you're goal is continual improvements in performance. A recent study in the journal Social Psychological and Personality Science researchers analyzed 112 race results from 2007-2009 (3k to half-marathon) of 72 runners from a northeast runner club and found that runners ran significantly faster in races where a perceived rival also raced. In fact, races times were roughly 4.92 seconds/km faster, or about 25 seconds over the course of a 5k race. That definitely is significant!

journal Social Psychological and Personality Science - See more at: http://www.stonehearthnewsletters.com/harnessing-personal-rivalry-can-boost-individuals-athletic-performance/human-behavior-motivation/#sthash.7biE3iyq.dpuf

This is why many find it beneficial to train with a partner or in groups. I personally don't think it's necessary for every session (the logistics of training alone are much simpler and I like the mental toughness that's developed as a result), but strategically placed "competitive sessions" within a training cycle could be the ticket to breaking through a plateau. These can be hard sessions with a training partner, or a local 5k. Both will do the trick.

I took the latter route this past weekend. With some degree of success, I've tried to incorporate some of these local races as a way to gauge fitness. More importantly, because I do almost all of my training alone, these races are about competing. It's the drug: waking up, knowing I'm about to force my body to suffer, all the while trying to go faster then the person next to me. I want to walk right up to that edge, but not fall over it. And sometimes that edge is a little further than what we originally thought.

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Going into this 5k I knew my run endurance was pretty solid, thanks to my Boston training earlier this year. But, this endurance focus has somewhat come at the expense of improving top-end speed. With a fairly good base for the year, I've recently starting doing a more focused block of speed work for my run (hello track sessions!).

The 5k was in Reston, VA, where my wife and I live. So, knowing the course wasn't an issue. What surprised me most was the number of people who came out on the morning of July 4th - about 2,000 runners in total. Not bad for a local race. The race also featured some pretty solid middle-distance talent from the area, many of whom run or ran in college. I was no match for their 4:45 pace, but jumping into a race with high-caliber runners forced me to up my game. I ran a 18:19 (5:55 pace) personal best (!) and finished 12th in my age group and 39th overall. Not bad at all after doing a hard hour and 15 minute hill repeat session on the bike the evening before.

After the race with my "Support the Troops" wristband given to all finishers

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What does all this mean? Seek out opportunities to regularly compete, and even embrace developing a friendly rivalry with a training partner or fellow race competitor. You just might see your performance improve.

Boston Strong: Race Report from the 2014 Boston Marathon

I thought about this race for more than a year. The anticipation was all-consuming. When I first decided to train for my first marathon some eight years ago, I set one goal for myself. I wanted to run the Boston Marathon.

For many, Boston is the Super Bowl of our sport. This is a runner's Kona. It's the holy grail we work so hard to reach, and even harder to stay in its company. If I learned one thing about the city and the people of Boston this past weekend, that's company I want to keep.

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My year didn't start out how I wanted it to. I had an off-and-on calf strain for the better part of 6 weeks in December and January. Training was a bit erratic. I spent most of January confined to exclusive aqua running. If it were any other course than the downhill pounding from the rolling Boston course, I wouldn't be worried. But when you put your quads through that much stress, they better be ready for it. Doing almost all non-impact running in the pool wasn't the ideal solution. But, it was what I had to work with at the time.

I did spend considerably more time in the weight room over the winter, which I knew would help. Heavy squats, deadlifts, step-ups, lunges, basically anything to train the eccentric contraction in my quads and gluts that I knew would come on race day.

I came out the other side of my calf injury with essentially 12 weeks of training. For the competitive runner, a build up of almost twice that length would be ideal. But, I had 12 weeks and I was determined to make the most of it.

After the race, on the drive back, I reflected a bit on what I actually accomplished during those 12 weeks. How I gave myself a chance in Boston. How I took that relatively short amount of time to set myself up for one of my most memorable performances to date, whether triathlon or over 26.2 miles.

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Boston is a special race regardless of the circumstances. This year was obviously different. The energy to "reclaim" this 118th running of the race for the city of Boston and runners everywhere was inspiring. I was truly honored and grateful to be apart of such a memorable event, one that brought out the strength, the resilience, the very best of Massachusetts, from Hopkinton to Boylston Street.

As much as running is an individual pursuit, I think we all do it for some higher purpose, something greater than ourselves. For some, this year's race was about healing. For others it was about redemption. For me, it reminded me of why I became a runner, why I'm grateful and proud to associate myself with a community that really stands apart in sport. For us runners, we know there are things we simply can't control. We can't control if a project gets dumped on us at work. We can't control if our young son or daughter is up all night with a fever. But, the one thing we can control, and in fact live for, are those times we get to lace up our running shoes, step into the sunshine (or down-pouring rain, snow, or sleet in some cases) and head off into the horizon, feeling completely free and alive.

I felt that same feeling in Boston, of truly living. And not just during the race, but all weekend. I don't think it was a coincidence that Christianity's most sacred, joyous holiday, Easter, a celebration of life, fell just one day before the marathon in a year when its meaning (life) was at the forefront of all of our thoughts. 

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We arrived in Boston on Saturday afternoon, two days before the race. My wife and I drove up with my parents. The day was perfect for driving. The sun was shining. The trees of the typically picturesque Connecticut landscape were noticeably brown. Winter definitely left its mark. That didn't matter very much, though. I stared out the window. My thoughts drifted. I pictured myself on the course in Boston, attacking. I was getting into race mode.

Before arriving at the hotel, we took a slight detour through Hopkinton and Framingham. I wanted to familiarize myself with the area and the course. Were the downhills during the first few miles really that significant? Driving the first 10k of the course gave me somewhat of an answer to the question, but nothing compares to the actual experience of your feet hitting the pavement, your quads absorbing the impact. We'll see what happens on race day.

After finally checking into the hotel, we all headed for the most important pre-race destination: Whole Foods. I'll be the first to admit, I'm extremely cognizant of what I put in my body, and during the days before a race, I'm even more so. I made sure I was stocked with all my essentials: avocados, coconut oil, almonds, and white rice to add to the few things I brought from home: UCAN Superstarch, Maca powder, and Upgraded coffee beans (and the coffee grinder, of course).

Sunday morning I went for my usual pre-race jog and stretch. This is a routine that stems all the way back to my soccer days. Nothing too significant, but a few light miles to get the legs moving, a few short strides to introduce some stimulation, and a series of dynamic stretches. Now, time to head into Boston to the expo. I definitely felt the pre-race jitters by now. It was all positive energy, though.  Excitement, not nervousness.

At one point the following morning my dad referred to me as a chemist. I travel with a lot of my own foods and I'm not shy about picking only very specific items from the hotel breakfast buffet area (which was basically just a banana and hot water) and combining them with my stuff at the table. I guess at some point I stopped caring what other people thought about the things I ate or how I ate. I know the things that help me perform at my best and I stick to them.

Anyway, breakfast that morning: water, coffee with coconut oil, and a hot mixture of the following: UCAN Superstarch, a banana, avocado, coconut oil, almonds, Maca powder, and a very small amount (1/8 cup maybe) of hot oatmeal.

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The ambiance of packet pick-up and the expo was pretty overwhelming. I've run in large races before, but this was different. I felt as though I was in different company, that I reached a new level in my endurance sports career. After a short bout of anxiety because I left my runner's passport (essentially your ticket to pick-up your bib) in the hotel room, I was relieved to see an information area where you could replace it if need be. This is pretty standard practice now with many races. You don't usually need your registration confirmation, but you always fear the worst.

With packet pick-up behind me, time for some lunch. The challenge, of course, was trying to find a place with an open table. Runners swarmed the restaurants around the Hynes Convention Center on Boylston Street. We walked a few blocks and finally came upon a decent looking cafe, with some outdoor seating nonetheless. Lunch was a big Greek salad with a side of hummus and olives.

My pre-race meals, especially dinner, don't deviate too much from my normal, everyday meals around major training sessions. And as I've written about before, I don't follow the conventional "carbo-load" approach to pre-race fueling. I think it's unnecessary to an extent and counterproductive, especially if you're goal is to control insulin, which is essentially the body's gatekeeper to fat burning (by spiking insulin, this basically triggers the body to shut down fat oxidation and rely exclusively on glycogen). That night at dinner (which was at this really cool jazz place in Cambridge called Beat Hotel) I had fluke ceviche, sweet potato, and broccoli rabe.

One final thing to do before bed and that was to layout all my gear for the following morning. Lights out.

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I woke up race morning feeling rested. I had no issues the previous night falling asleep (thank you Natural Calm magnesium, another item in my mobile food pantry). It also helped psychologically that the time I had to wake up was about 45 minutes later than the time I normally wake up for AM training sessions. So, I actually got to sleep in!

Now, on to breakfast, which was another "science experiment." A doubly concentrated cup of Upgraded coffee with coconut oil, and another slurry with a small amount of white rice, avocado, half a mashed banana, UCAN Superstarch, a few almonds, and a small scoop of Maca powder. I also prepared my race fuel, which was pretty straightforward: a 10oz handheld flask with a concentrated solution of Superstarch that I planned to sip on from mile 8 or 9 till I finished it.

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The shuttle bus drop-off point in Hopkinton was about a mile from athlete's village. Between the time my dad dropped me off at Hopkinton State Park at the shuttle and entering athlete's village, I passed through three security checkpoints. But, I knew this was coming, so all the added security didn't phase me too much.

As I walked through the starting corrals in Hopkinton, which, in a few short hours would be packed with thousands of runners, I felt an incredible sense of calm. I'm not sure if it was the sun, the cool morning air, or the mental state I was able to put myself in, but I felt entirely present in that moment. I walked by countless volunteers, thanking them for their service, and even more spectators, thanking them for their support and hospitality. I was, in fact, simply a visitor, and I was honored they embraced my company (for all those who understand Marathon Monday in Boston, the city more than embraces the runners who compete).

Athlete's village was a sprawl of bodies claiming the smallest of plots on the ground. Most flocked into areas hit by sunlight for added warmth. It wasn't extremely cold, but there was definitely a chill in the air. Because of new gear check rules, no bags were allowed in Hopkinton. That meant anything you wore you either had to discard (all clothing was donated) or run with it. Like many others, I arrived wearing pants, a long sleeve shirt, and a fleece top straight from the 90's. Observing all the interesting pre-race outfits (from bathrobes to blankets) provided a bit of entertainment during the 90 minutes or so I spent waiting in the village. I found a spot up against one of the tent poles to sit. Now the waiting game.

Nine o'clock finally rolled around, which meant it was time for the first wave to assemble in the staging area. I stripped off my sweats and exited athlete's village to join the other runners of my wave. There was only one thing missing in this area though, port-a-johns. Runners began to line the tree line around the parking area similarly to how lines would queue to wait for a port-a-john. The only problem: there were none. It didn't seem any of the police officers were itching to pass out citations for public urination. Anyway...

All nine corrals stretched through the center part of town in Hopkinton. But, runners were able to exit to the sides to warm-up. That's where I went. Down a fairly flat side street, I got a solid warm-up in. I felt good. Legs were loose. I didn't overdue it. Breathing was under control. I felt relaxed. I re-entered my coral - coral four, just three behind the elites - just in time for the national anthem.

After introductions of the elite runners, which included a pretty stacked field on both the men's and women's side, the gun finally went off. The corals in front of me slowly made their way across the start line. It's a slow, steady walk to the start line, and then, in an instant, you turn it on.

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Ask any running coach or Boston veteran, they will all tell you the same thing. Don't go out too fast. Sure, this can be said of any race, but there's one thing that sets Boston apart from many other courses. The first 6 miles are all downhill. A few of these downhills are signficant, but many are gradual. They are deceptive. You wouldn't know it, but the course drops more than 250 feet over the first 4 miles (150 feet over the first half mile). The tendency is to take advantage of the free speed (not to mention the adrenaline that's pumping from the crowds at the start) to make up time early that you might lose later on. But, this is a slippery slope. As, the saying goes, every 1 minute you run too fast early in Boston, you lose 2 minutes later.

I felt this constant struggle during the first few miles. I wanted to push a comfortable pace, one I knew I could handle. But, I also had the continuous caution on repeat in my head. "Don't overdue it on the hills." I settled into a fairly moderate pace along the road's edge. At each mile marker I glanced down at my watch, half hoping I was ahead of my PR pace because I knew I could beat it, and half hoping I was right at my pace because I knew the challenges that lie ahead.

5k split: 20:54. 

Unlike any other event I've competed in, there were really no dead spaces along the course. Spectators formed a seemingly endless connection and flow of noise, support and energy. During the first five miles or so, I didn't even feel as though I was running. It might have also been my intense focus on not tripping over the feet in front of me. Much of the course is along a two lane road. That's not much real estate for thousands of runners jockeying for space.

But, before I knew it, I was out of Hopkinton, through Ashland, and into Framingham. Now, if you're a public health researcher like myself, Framingham holds a unique place within our community. The town has been the site of a major cohort study, beginning in 1948, looking at heart disease and its risk factors. In fact, the term "risk factor" can be traced back to the Framingham Heart Study. Okay, propeller hat is off, back to the story.

Not too long into the race, I fell into a great rhythm. One stride after the next, they felt perfect. My mind began to think 120 minutes into the future. I visualized myself striding strongly up Heartbreak Hill. I saw myself getting stronger as others suffered. Flashes of images from the YouTube clips I watched for motivation in the car on the way to the start formed a montage in my head. But, not too much of that. I needed to focus on the task at hand and keep checking in with how my body was feeling.
 
10k split: 41:41


Just after the 10k mark was when some of the early race high began to wear off. It's inevitable. It's also essential. Relying exclusively on adrenaline can only take you so far. You're more apt to make mistakes this way. Maximizing performance requires a keen awareness of your body in all aspects, muscular, cardio-repiratory, digestive, mental, and, yes, spiritual.

This is also when I started to think about if I needed to shift any of my nutrition protocol. I don't have a standard set mile marker when I begin to take on nutrition, it more depends on the conditions of the day. Hotter temperatures, like how things were shaping up that day, means a slight shift to starting my "drip" earlier in the race. Somewhat early in the race, around mile 10 or so, I also began taking several cups of water at each aid station and dumping them on my head and neck to try and keep my body temperature somewhat cool. Sixty to 65 degree temperatures aren't terribly hot, but with running, every degree makes a difference.

13.1 mile split: 1:28:32 (6:45 pace)

Ok, now it's game time. Legs were now feeling some slight fatigue from all the downhill on the first half of the race. Races are always broken up into segments. It's a series of small victories strung together that make a full performance. At 13.1, my eyes were set on the Newton hills in a few miles. I couldn't wait for them, in fact. I'm admittedly a much better uphill runner than downhill. Bring 'em.

After the halfway point, the crowds started to grow. Soon enough I came upon the famed section passing by Wellsley College. Students were out in full force, hanging over the barricades, holding their "kiss me" signs, and cheering with every ounce of air in their lungs. A few runners did stop for a quick kiss. A happily married man, I knew my boundaries (love you Steph). I did move over to run along the barricades, though, to high-five many of them. The least I could do, right?

The energy gave me an instant jolt. I needed it coming into the hills of Newton. I must say, hitting those first inclines were like heaven, a relief in many ways. I love running uphill. Climbing is all about efficiency. Your stride shortens, cadence increases. Head down. Just keep turning 'em over.

I was finally joined by that inevitable running partner. He always shows up at some point during a race. In a marathon, it's usually around mile 18 or 20 when you start asking questions of yourself. Am I strong enough? Will I make it? Can I hold this pace? I'm talking about none other than pain himself.

I spent a lot of time over the winter perfecting my mental game, working on how to deal with this partner. I meditated and did deep breathing exercises and yoga regularly. And so when pain joined me, I embraced the feeling. I knew it was coming. It always does. Don't fight it. It was in these moments that I learned to think about the unique sensations in my legs, how it felt. I channeled the suffering and used it positively. I felt I was getting stronger.

30k split - 2:07:29

And then it came. I finally arrived at the famed Heartbreak Hill. I've definitely run up steeper and longer hills during my time as a runner and triathlete, but never at mile 20 of a 3 hour marathon (at least that's what I was on pace for). I approached the hill with the same mentality as the previous: head down, steady cadence. Do the work! Keep the engine turning! I crested the hill feeling roughly the same as when I started. I didn't feel as though it really took much out of me at all.

The more painful section was the downhill afterwards. My quads were absolutely screaming at this point (and they're still feeling it even as I'm posting this). I just tried to hang on at this point, feed off the energy of the massive crowds. I took some comfort in knowing my wife and parents were somewhere in the crowds between mile 23 and 25. I had no idea where, but I kept an eye out, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. Well, as much as I could. The crowds at this point were unlike any I've experienced.

The white Adidas sign along the course with the word "Boston" on it finally came into view. It wasn't too much longer until that famous stretch of pavement on Boylston Street. I knew my paced slowed, but I still gave it everything to try and beat the 3 hour mark.

Making the left turn onto Boylston Street was unbelievable. It's really hard to put into words. You round the corner and are immediately greeted by this wave of energy. I couldn't see a vacant spot on either side in the space between the barriers and the building fronts. The cheers were booming. The finish line looked majestic. In those final few hundred meters I thought about all the hard work over the years to make it to that magical moment.

Striking the blue and yellow finish tape on the pavement, I looked up, and as I do after every race, rose my heads towards the heavens to thank all those people, past and present, deceased and alive,  who have inspired and supported me to fight for my dreams.

And that's what it means to feel alive.

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My final time was 3:02:21 (6:58 pace), good for 2747 overall and 1806 in the men's 18-39 age group. And another BQ! Maybe I'll be back.

 

And a big congrats to Meb Keflezighi, the oldest Boston Marathon winner since 1930 and the first American to win since 1983.

Disclaimer: I did not receive any form of compensation to reference the specific products mentioned in this blog post. I did so purely based on my own experience and satisfaction with those products.

I won my first race!

The countdown is on. Less than two weeks until Boston. I've started to taper, cut volume a bit, and started to focus a lot on specificity. 

So, I jumped into a local 10k last weekend up in PA outside of Philadelphia. It was held at beautiful and quiet Washington Crossing Historic Park. The goal wasn't to necessarily run a PR. I wanted to run comfortably and relaxed, treating it almost like a tempo run in training (so just a little faster than goal marathon pace). I also biked about 2 hours the day before, which provided some feeling of running on tired legs (something I'll be needing in a couple months for my first half-Ironman). 

That being said though, of course I wanted to win!

I'll get to the actual race in a second, but the best part of the day really had nothing to do with how I ran. 

The day was more of a family affair. My sister was in town to do some wedding stuff. My aunt and cousins live outside of Philly, so they were there. My parents drove down. My sister-in-law flew up from North Carolina. And Stephanie and I drove up from DC. Like I said, a family affair. 

Not everyone ran, but everyone took part in the festivities. It was all really my sister's idea, so kudos to her for making us do it. After a day of wedding stuff on Saturday (well, just for the girls, the boys did "guy things": went to my cousin's son's tee-ball game and watched sports), a bunch of us did either the 10k or 5k run on Sunday (or the 1-mile fun run). My wife and sister ran the 5k. My cousin, her husband, and I all did the 10k. And then there was my cousin's son Cal who did the 1 mile fun run (which was actually about 1.3 miles) and killed it! He came in 4th place!

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I was most proud of my wife. She ran her first 5k a few years ago, and then an 8k in Philadelphia in 2012, but hasn't done a race since. She's recently started training again (and yes, this makes for an interesting coach-athlete relationship :)) The focus hasn't all been on running, though. Actually, the majority of her sessions have been strength-based. She'll tell you how much she now loves squats and deadlifts (well, maybe). 

After the race, my wife said she felt the strength work really carry over. Though she really only runs 1-2 times per week (and those are usually higher intensity intervals, combined with walking), she still ran a 33:46, which was a PR for her by a minute.

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It was perfect running weather. The sky was clear blue. The morning air was cool and crisp. The sun was shining and starting to warm things up. Absolutely perfect. 

I got an okay warm-up in. It wasn't ideal, but I still felt ready to go. Off came the long-sleeves. I stood at the start line and took my usual moment to think about the race, that moment, and the gratitude I had for being able to run and compete. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm me down.

And then we're off.

I led from start to finish. The first half mile I had a few runners keeping pace, but I established a clear lead from early on. From there it was all about running controlled and relaxed.  

I knew going into the race that this could happen (leading the entire way). It was a smaller race and I wasn't quite sure the caliber of the other runners. This, of course, has both an upside and a downside. On one hand it provided a nice boost in confidence to run a solid race and lead the entire way. On the other hand, when you're in front my 30-60 seconds in a 10k (which is a lot for that distance) you don't have that sense of urgency, the feeling that someone is on your heals pushing you to perform better.

Nonetheless, I ran how I wanted to run, about 30 seconds per mile below goal marathon pace. 

 

I felt some sense of accomplishment running up to the finish line. My first win. I'll take it. Certainly a solid stepping-stone towards Boston. And thank you all, especially wife and family, for your support.

Now, it's all about recovery (see my article in Fit Nation Magazine on recovery) and being as prepared mentally and physically as possible for April 21st!  

Making running a team sport: My interview with American Odyssey Race Director, Bob Fleshner

Bob Fleshner is currently the race director for the American Odyssey Relay, a 36-leg running relay event from historic Gettysburg, PA to Washington, DC. He's built AOR almost single-handedly to become one of the most unique running experiences on the east coast. And that's what Bob prides the race on: the experience. If you're looking for an unforgettable adventure, don't worry, there's still time to get in on the action. The race is April 25-26 and registration is still open here. Hope to see you out there! I'll be volunteering this year.


I had the chance to interview Bob recently about the race and his background in the sport. 

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Race directing wasn't your first career path. How did you first break into the running and endurance sports community?

After working as an attorney and corporate executive for 25 years I decided to become certified as a personal trainer. After I received that certification I met a relay race director while at a race expo.  I had run in three relays and loved the concept.  He and I decided to bring one to the mid-Altantic.  So, we started the American Odyssey Relay in 2009.

The American Odyssy Relay is a one-of-a-kind event starting in Gettysburg, PA and ending in Washington, DC. What makes it so special for you?

Connecting with the runners and the communities along the way is what makes it special.  AOR is truly a community.  I email regularly with dozens of participants, volunteers and property owners, not only about the race, but about life in general.  We’ve made so many lifelong friends that it’s hard to count them!

We generally don't think of distance running (and endurance sports more generally) as a team sport? What was appealing about a relay format for the American Odyssy Relay?

Just that.  Teams make up funny names, decorate their vans and have funny t-shirts.  Seeing them running hard, not for themselves, but for their teammates, is really great.

What's been the most memorable moment or experience from your time as race director of AOR?

My most memorable moment was seeing Mark Holbert, who was seriously injured by an IED, come across the finish line on his hand cranked bicycle.  His grit and determination exemplifies all that is best about our military and about the running community in general.

You're a long-time runner yourself. What keeps you engaged in the sport?

I still feel better after I run than before.  I was tired today but met a friend and ran in the snow.  I feel energized and happy now, post run.  The feeling I get and the camaraderie from running with others are what keeps me fresh and interested.

What's been your favorite race as a competitor to date?

For some reason, I seem to run well in Philly.  The Philadelphia Distance Run (now Rock and Roll) and the Philly Marathon are mostly the same course and are my favorites.

Any races on the calendar for you this year?

The Reno Tahoe Odyssey Relay in late May.  It’s my business partner’s race.  It’s the 10th anniversary for RTO and my team and I needed another team challenge.

Anything else?

I may try to get myself mentally geared up for another try at Boston.  I finished a few minutes before the bombs went off last year and I don’t want that to be my last memory of Boston.

Where can people find out more about you and AOR?

www.americanodysseyrelay.com.

Want to check something off the bucket list? Race here....

I recently found out about this amazing race opportunity being organized in Ethiopia by the non-profit Race4Ever. Not only does the new Ethiopia Marathon, Half-Marathon and 5k run taking place on June 8th look amazing (okay, not quite "Running with the Kenyans" but Ethiopia has produced its fair share of world-class runners, including one who is involved with this race), it's also benefiting a great cause in Ethiopia.
 
Headlining the event is race ambassador and elite marathoner/ultra-marathoner, Michael Wardian. If you don't know him, he's qualified for the US Olympic trials three times, run some pretty serious ultras like Badwater, arguably one of the toughest ultras in Death Valley. He also won the National Marathon in Washington, DC (now rock n roll USA) five years in a row, among other accomplishments. 

Organized by DC-based endurance athlete and coach Jeff Horowitz, the one-of-a-kind road race starts 8,500 feet and ends at 9,300 feet. That's some serious altitude and makes it one of the highest road races in the world. 

This is definitely a once in a lifetime opportunity. The full travel package includes everything from round-trip airfare, to seven nights in a luxury hotel, to a city tour of Addis Ababa and the race course, and pre- and post-race festivities. Olympic champion and 5k and 10k world record holder Kenenisa Bekele is also hosting a high-altitude training camp for all race participants. 

If you'd like to get in on this awesome trip, visit here's the race website: https://www.race4ever.org/home.html 

 

New Coaching Business

And we're off and running. Pun intended. I spent New Years at my in-laws, and my father-in-law is known for his over-the-top puns. They must've rubbed off.

I recently started my own coaching business, Craig Moscetti Training Systems. It's still in the early stages and a work in progress. But I'm excited to be working with a couple clients already and that it's finally off the ground.

My mission is simple, to help clients - of all ages and ability levels - achieve higher levels of performance to meet their personal health and fitness goals. 

I don't use pre-formulated training programs. Your body type, metabolism and physiology are all unique. That's why my advice is 100% tailored to my client's individual performance goals. Whether you're looking for helpful tips from time to time, or a personalized training approach based on your upcoming race calendar, my approach is based on client training needs. You can read more about my coaching philosophy here.

Looking for a coach? I offer one-on-one running and triathlon coaching services (both in-person and virtual), general health coaching, and individual consultations.

Contact me here for your free introductory consultation.

Top Posts from 2013

Well, 2013 is officially in the books. It's been a great year - my first full year of blogging. I hope you have enjoyed reading my posts as much as I've enjoyed writing them.

Here are the most popular posts from the past year:

1. Minimalist running shoes: Are they really what we want them to be? 

2. What's wrong with the conventional wisdom on cholesterol and how it could actually be harming us

3. Making the best of it when things don't go your way: NJ State Triathlon race report

And, of course, if there are specific topics you'd like to hear more about, let me know. I'm always looking for new ideas and would love to hear from you.

Happy New Year and best wishes for a healthy and successful 2014.

Overcoming Setbacks and Injuries

I hate injuries. They come at inopportune times and they keep me from doing what I love doing - training and racing.

Since taking up endurance sports I've been relatively injury-free. That was until recently. I've mentioned in previous postings that I've been having some issues with my calf. A short period of feeling good, training a bit more. And then bam, you're back to square one.

Injuries are extremely frustrating like that. You feel as though you're slowly climbing up a hill. You're making small progress. You're eager to continuing climbing (maybe too quickly). Then when you re-injure or have a slight set-back, it's like you're back at the base all over again.


Injuries can be valuable though. They can teach us a lot, both physically and mentally. But, we can't learn from them if we're still fighting them. Be open to the valuable lessons that dealing with an injury can teach. It's all part of the journey. Here's a few thoughts when those nagging things come up.

1. Stop - Don't push it. Once you feel something isn't right - stop. Even if it means walking the 3 miles back home. It's tempting to keep going, to push through the end of the session. I've had that feeling too. As endurance athletes we're conditioned to persevere through pain. But push at mile 25 of the Boston Marathon. Push at mile 99 of your first century bike ride. Don't push at a time when results are meaningless and jeopardizing your season is at stake. 

2. Diagnose - If the injury is severe and/or debilitating, your first step is to obviously consult a physician, chiropractor, physical therapist, or other health professional. But for other injuries, those small, nagging issues that just pop us, self-diagnosis can be useful. What do I mean by this? Think about what's changed in your training between the time you were healthy and the time you got injured. Did you come off a three-week break and increase the training load too quickly? Have your biomechanics changed at all, possibly from tightness or imbalances in some muscles? Are your shoes different? For me, the most useful process is to think about all constants and variables in my training, and see where things may have changed. Ask questions of yourself. I took the month of October off. Could this level of inactivity have contributed to tightness in my calf? I wasn't doing yoga during this time either. Culprit? Possibly. When I resumed training I was running 2-3 times per week. These were mostly base runs of no more than 1 hour 15 minutes at a fairly comfortable, zone 2 effort. Did I ramp up my training too quickly? Probably not because my intensity, frequency and volume were all fairly low.

3. Get Input - I'm not a one problem, one solution kind of guy. I have the strategies that work for me, but there are tons of athletes, coaches, friends, doctors, physical therapists, etc, who all know something I don't. Those are the things I want to hear and the things I try to search for. Resources like blogs, Youtube, and journal articles can all be helpful. I'm open to learning and constantly looking for new information. That's the only way to improve and perform better.

4. Adapt - Your training plan is never set in stone. Use this time to improve other weaknesses. My calf injury forced me to look at and focus on other aspects of training. One goal of mine is to improve my endurance and power on the bike this off-season. The 10 days I took off from running, I did a focused block of bike training. Instead of seeing my calf injury as a set-back, it helped me think about and prioritize other things that need improvement.

5. Patience - This is, in my opinion, the hardest lesson to master, but also the most valuable. Why? Because patience requires an intimate understanding of your body. How much is too much? What's just enough? I remember back in college, when I was playing soccer, where this really came back to hurt me. After a solid spring my freshman year I headed into the summer excited about the prospects for the next season. I was playing well and in really good shape. That summer, during a match, I fractured a bone in my ankle. The timetable wasn't ideal. Rehab took the rest of the summer and it was doubtful I'd make the first game of the season. I pressured myself to get back as soon as I could. The pressure from my coaches was equally as tough. I was compensating in my running and agility to try and minimize the pain. I just wanted to play. I did play in the first couple games. But, then I re-injured my ankle in training. Long story, short I only played in a few games that year. I was sidelined for about 75% of the season, which ended up being my last. It was a tough way to end my career in the sport I loved in that way. But it was also a valuable lesson in patience, one I won't forget.

Timex Factory Team

The other day I received an email that truly made me happy. My wife can attest. She watched me jump around the house like a little kid.

I was accepted onto the Timex Factory Team. For the 2014 season, I'll join more than 300 other multisport and endurance athletes from across the country and some from around the world. 

Endurance sports, including triathlon, are highly individual pursuits. They are your goals, your training sessions and your finish times. No one else can claim them. 

But I've noticed one thing over the past few years. Triathlon and endurance sports have an incomparable sense of community. Is it the distance and our individual suffering that unites us together? Put a few triathletes in the same room and they'll be content for hours talking about race destinations, the last time they bonked, their training, or even the latest politics in the sport. I know I'm guilty of this.

This is why I'm so excited and grateful for the opportunity to join the Timex Factory Team. I'm looking forward to sharing my dedication and passion for the sport with my teammates. They will undoubtedly teach me a thing or two along the way.

2014 should be a great year!