Is Running Bad For You?

The title of this post may seem a bit self destructive for a guy who aspires to keep on running.  However, popular media and, indeed, the scientific community seems to be split on this simple question: Is running bad for you?

I cannot tell you how many people have told me now much damage I've done to my body because I've complete 2 marathon distance runs.  "You have no idea how taxing that is on your heart." "You will be in a wheelchair when you are older, because of the strain you are putting on your feet and knees now."  "Study XYZ says that people die within 24 hours after a marathon run.  That could be you."

Time to talk to the experts.  I invited my good friend and neighbour ( who also happens to be my doctor ) over for a couple games of Settlers of Catan and casually segwayed into the topic of running.  I love and respect her advise because she doesn't just regurgitate Medical Journals to me.  There is a sensibility, personal-touch and pragmatism to her that a lot of doctors lack.  Not to mention a strong moral code - she has turned down many many career and life changing opportunities from the States, because she refuses to work in a system that doesn't treat healthcare as a basic human right.  All that to say that I respect her opinion and character and take it to heart.

I asked her what she thought about running.  She replied quickly, "It's great for you, keep doing it."  Oh, ok.  I pressed her a bit more, playing devils-advocate.  "Someone told me that I should only run so far and I could die and will be crippled."

"You are going to die anyway.  There is no scientific research that says running is worse off for you. Quite the opposite.  We should all be running, biking, walking, swimming, etc.  There is AMPLE scientific research backing the obesity epidemic in the western world.  And those that fall over after or during big events, probably weren't ready for the event.  People who rarely exercise, are 50 times more likely ( that's 5000% ) to die of a heart attack during or shortly after people who engage in moderate to strenuous exercise 5 times per week.  We are getting fatter and lazier, and we are doing everything we can to stay on that couch watching Netflix."

She hit the nail on the head.  The Blerch has infiltrated our popular subconscious.

Humans are a funny lot, when a problem gets too big, we tend to ignore it more. ( how much sleep have you lost over global warming? )  Take a look at the west 20, even 30 years ago. ( go ahead, find an old photo album and really look at your relatives and friends )  Maybe it's an inherent protection mechanism for our comfortable way of life.  I don't know.  What I do know, and you don't have to be a scientist to observe this, is we've become sedentary and fat obese and nobody wants to admit it.

Regarding marketing

Everyone is selling something.  Everyone.  Whether it is an actual tangible product or an abstract idea that supports your personal, career or political agenda, you are selling something - I am selling something.  I stopped and thought about who was talking to me about the mortal dangers of running.  One was my dietician, who is selling me a food plan.  Something I need regardless of an exercise regime.  However, he is selling me a golden ticket that a running program/lifestyle collides with.  My running, the fact that I am externally burning between 1000-2000 calories per day, effects his value proposition.  Ironically, another buddy of mine tells me that I shouldn't be running because it strains the heart and joints way too much.  Instead I should join a gym ( his gym ) and incorporate myself into a gymnasium lifestyle.  Sculpt my body with muscle, which leans out all of the fat.  Yet another value prop collision.

So, here is my conclusion.  Running can be bad for you.  If you aren't prepared for it, you can hurt yourself running ( or, in very rare cases, worse ).  I would also assert that consuming water can be bad for you.  As with everything else in life, moderation and common sense, s'il vous plait.  When moderation doesn't feel like enough add a bit more until it feels like moderation again.  Keep running, stop blerching.

Enough of this computer, I'm going out for a run.

Switching Gait : Running from a Black Hawk Helicopter

I have been recently told that I sound like a slow-motion helicopter from an old Vietnam war movie when I run. ( think Apocalypse Now - a classic )  It was light-hearted and in good fun, but when I actually thought about it, it is entirely true.  I am a tall guy, 6 foot 3 inches, and I have very long legs.  Being an amateur jogger for a few years, I have taught myself to run with no guidance.  I mean, we all know how to run inherently right?  We have legs.  You just throw on some big comfy, cushiony shoes and the rest works itself out, no?  That's what I've been going on.

After perusing YouTube on running technique and taking a good, hard look at my own running style ( let's call it "Black Hawk Down" ) I decided to swallow my pride and embrace the science of running.  I took out my iDevice, and actually recorded myself running at a comfortable pace and I saw a lot of what the experts would call "heel-striking".  That is, lifting the legs up high and in front of your body and striking down.  Apparently, this is pretty bad for your knees and ankles, though I have been lucky enough not to have had any joint aches or pains.  Time to get the experts involved.

I booked an appointment with my ART physio-therapist, Stephane, who is a Boston Qualifier himself.  After many pats on the back and words of congratulations on my first official marathon, he started to work my legs.  He was surprised that most of my muscle pain was in my thighs and soloplexes and virtually no tightness was present in my calves, hamstrings and glutes.  ( Totally makes sense, I run by lifting two massive logs and ramming them into the ground in front of me, therefore I have very strong and pronounced soloplexes and thighs ) Suspicious, he asked me to hop on the treadmill to look at my form, and it was just as I had suspected, I was a glider, instead of a hopper.  He gave me a long winded explanation of the problems I might experience, should I continue to hit the pavement in front of my body instead of underneath my center of gravity and it really made sense to me.  He said it would be hard to break, as with any habit, but I should give pose running style a look.  (The guy in the before video pretty much describes how I ran before 2 weeks ago.)

So after some self assessment and self study, I decided to give the new running style a go.  I had been happily beating the pave with my Asics Gel Nimbus shoes for the last 3 years at least and, quite frankly, I loved them.  Like running on a soft, spongy cloud.  They do work really well, for those of us that do tend to strike heal first, for obvious shock absorbing reasons.  So in the interest of transition and taking it easy, I decided to begin my journey into a new running gait with these shoes first and then move into something less supporting later.  ( it seems less intuitive to be moving towards less supportive, but the theory states that you build up muscle fibres, which act as a natural support, instead of relying on artificial, unnatural external support ) I started out my run leaning a bit forward, instead of the perpendicular and even back-leaning pose I normally took.  Just doing this, leaning slightly forward and keeping my head up, changed everything.  I was now working with gravity instead of against it.  "Falling" into the ground in front of me and catching myself with slightly bent, quicker cadence strides.   3 strikes per seconds on average.  "One, two, three, one, two, three.", was my mantra for the first few minutes of a 10K.  Interesting.  It felt weird.  It looked weird.  It felt slower, because of the shorter steps.  It was not slower.  When I looked down at my Garmin, it was much, much faster to my pleasant surprise. ( 4:00/km pace instead of 5:00/km )  Hmm, interesting indeed.

After my first test run, I've decided to turn down my weekly distance.  I am essentially re-teaching myself how to run, and in doing so, working different muscle groups.  Instead of 20 and 30 km runs, I have scaled waaay back to 8-15 k runs.  I have new aches and pains in my hamstrings and calves and surprisingly my knees as well.  But honestly, the hardest part for me is having the discipline to say I am wrong, I have to fix it, especially after building up the big runs in my current style.

So here is a list of things I would recommend ( as a complete amateur, and a beginner, and nothing else ) if you are brave enough to switch to Pose:

1. Take it slow.  You are starting over, but you are going faster and building the muscles to be more efficient.  The end goal is better performance.
2. Transition to a better shoe, but don't go barefoot (yet).  You will find that the big heels of modern big name shoes are clunky with pose's higher cadence.  I grabbed a pair of Newton Gravity performance shoes, which I love, because they promote forefoot/midfoot landing, but still offer a heel when my calves and hams fatigue near the end of my runs.  Eventually, I do want to transition to minimal, but only if it does not hinder performance of long endurance runs.
3. Reset your mileage.  Scale the miles waaay back.  I know it sucks, but you are starting over, and honestly, once you start pose running, you will be very tired - it forces you to run faster and better.  You are definitely stressing different parts of your legs and I think it wise to let your muscles build up to this.

Keep running!

My First Marathon, Rookie Mistakes, and Defeating the Blerch

I just ran my first marathon two Sundays ago, and in an attempt to earmark that euphoric moment when I crossed the finish line, I am going to compose a running blog.  "Argh", you say, "not another amateur running blog."  Well keep surfing friend, because this blog is more a journal and motivation tool for me than for you. ( but secretly I hope you will at least take a look )

Despite the title of this blog, the first thing I would like to point out is that I am not a runner.  Not yet.  True I have been doing it, placing one foot in front of the other while perspiring and wheezing, on and off for 6 years or so.  I have been a part time, "only when it's convenient" jogger at best.  In fact I have recently been notified that if I keep "running" the way I do, I will have a very short career on the pavement.  So, this is me, Jay, the blerch-avoiding jogger trying to learn how to run.

The Marathon

Alright, on to the big event.  Since I began my asphalt journey, I have dreamed of the day that I would finish a marathon, and on Sunday October 20th, 2013 my dream became a reality.

The journey to the marathon began the night before. ( actually years before, but that will be for another post ) It was out of my home town.  In fact, the reason I chose to go for an away marathon instead of waiting out the Legs for Literacy race here in Moncton, was simply because I was too late in signing up for it.  A testament to my often forgetful nature.  Lesson learned for next year.  That said, I have been training on the Legs trails for the last couple of years, so changing up the venue resulted in a more "adventurous" first marathon experience in beautiful Prince Edward Island.  However, if I would have been inclined and insistent on venue I would have been disappointed because of my own apathy.  So there's rookie mistake number one: don't wait until the last minute to sign up!

For logistical and personal ( neurotic ) reasons ( I hate staying in hotel rooms ) I arrived at my hotel in Charlottetown on Saturday evening around 7pm.  I planned to miss the chip and bib pickup and ask one of the volunteers to deliver it to my hotel instead, using the out-of-towner excuse.  She was very nice and very accommodating and she did deliver a package to my hotel.  When I checked in I asked the receptionist if there was a package waiting for me.  She smiled and said, "oh yes, you must be the marathoner".  I grinned at the thought of being called a "marathoner" and eagerly snatched my bag of goodies and began tearing through it like a 5 year old on Christmas morning.  After ripping through livestrong-esque pamphlets, pre-race Italian-Canadian meal coupons, and "all natural" granola bars, my heart sank.  No bib.  No chip.  Startled, I allowed the panic to subside and my rational brain to take over as I leafed through the pamphlet stack again to find a note from one of the marathon volunteers explaining that my bib and chip would be waiting for me at the start line the next day.  Immediately, the neurotic side of my brain took over and started throwing the "What ifs" at me.. "What if they completely forget about the chip and I can't race", "What if the chip won't somehow work, because I failed to show up the day before and register properly", "What if, What if, WHAT IF?!??!?!".  Stop. Breath, Jay.  The rational side had taken over again and calmed me down. "You will race tomorrow.  The likelihood of a bib and chip not being there for you to use is extremely low.  This is a Boston Qualifying event and they are prepared for one-offs like this.  In the extremely low chance that there is no chip/bib available for you, nothing can stop you from running the race anyway.  You've got your GPS watch and you've already paid for the event.  There will be a shiny bauble and complementary chocolate milk waiting for you at the finish line.  Breath Jay, breath."  So, rookie mistake number two, when they ask you to show up the day before to register, just show up the day before and register.  It will save you a world of unnecessary nerves the night before your big day.

Sleep.  I am normally a pretty decent sleeper.  I find as I progress into my thirties, I am unable to stay up much past 11 or midnight.   This is great news, as it enforces a consistent circadian rhythm and allows me to rise pretty effortlessly in the morning.  I touched before on my slightly neurotic nature when it comes to the comforts of my own bed.  So.. yeah, the obsessive compulsive Jay decided to show up around midnight - just as I had finally calmed my bib/chip fears.  On my back with two pillows under my head.  No.  On my back with one.  No.  Back and no pillow.  No.  Left side, one pillow for head, and one in between my knees.  No.  Maybe the right side would work better?  No.  2:30AM -  These blankets are too itchy.  I am not quite sure how to diagnose this one, but it still categorically belongs to rookie mistake number three: get a good night's sleep.  Perhaps my next out of town run will include my own pillows and sheets?

Race morning.  My iPhone barked it's usual rumba alarm at me at 5:45am.  Surprisingly I was not that tired despite the mere 4 hours of restless sleep.  The adrenaline was pumping too hard I guess.  I got up and rammed out 50 pushups to warm up my body and wake myself up.  Now time to go downstairs for some breakfast.  Neurotic Jay immediately joined the party, "You know this is race day, you have to make sure you are super, duper hydrated before the race.  Drink up fool.  Drink, drink, drinkedy drink."  (Rational Jay was still fast asleep somewhere in my phsyche, otherwise he would have chimed in with something like, "Just have a normal breakfast, like when you ran your marathon in training.  Don't overdo it with the food or liquids." )  So, away I went to the complementary cold breakfast buffet.  Toast, peanut butter, a yoghurt and half a banana with a large coffee.  Little caffeine never hurt anyone, right?  "Remember that article you read that one time, that caffeine is performance enhancing and reduces the perceived effort of physical activity.", Neurotic Jay said.  Oh yeah, I though, he's right.  Better slam down another coffee.. I mean I do want to perform today - and last night I didn't get enough sleep, so that probably means I need more pep.  Second large coffee down.  "What about electrolytes?  You gotta have electrolytes and you aren't bringing a hydration belt on your run, you are relying on the water stations".  Ok, ok, neurotic Jay, I'll drink this 500 ml bottle of Gatorade before the race.  About 5 minutes later, I felt FULL.  Too full.  But no time to think about that, I had to get back up to my room, get dressed and head down to the Convention Center to catch a bus to the start line.  I had brought a shirt that I trained with, but I really liked the technical shirt that came with the pack.  Though functionally it worked out fine for me apparently this is another rookie no, no that can lead to chaffing and nipple bleeding.  Ouch.  Rookie mistake number four: don't change up your gear last minute.

The race was not a loop, as with a lot of marathon races.  It started on the north shore of the island and ended on the south shore, so the marathon committee had a fleet of buses to take everyone from Charlottetown up to Brackley Beach at 7:00AM, SHARP. ( That's what it said on the itinerary paper.. SHARP )  I was only 5 minutes or so away from the Convention Center, so I showed up at around 6:40 and navigated my way to the back of the dimly lit bus.  The energy was awesome.  People of all ages and levels of fitness were there.  I was surprised and impressed.  Some were smiling and shaking hands, obviously not new to the sport of running.  A Running Room cult was sitting next to me talking about running form and what kind of hydration belts they would be using and how often they would gel pack.  A nice couple from Cap Breton Island ( from the sound of their accents ) whom I spotted at breakfast sat down next to me.  "How's she goin', bud?", the husband grinned at me, seeing my nerves and anticipation.  Already knowing the answer, he politely asked me if this was my first marathon.  I am sure they were in their late 50s, both semi-retired and running together and calm as a couple of cucumbers - just happy to be doing something they love together.  After dispensing a few pleasantries and running stories, the bus jerked to a start and began it's trek to the sands of Brackley.  I remember spotting the finish line, accented with morning's first light, just as we were getting started.  "I'll see you in a few hours", I thought to myself and smiled.

The ride up was long.  Two coffees and half a litre of gatorade was sloshing around in my bladder and every bump became progressively less comfortable.  Finally rational Jay woke up and joined the party.  In a voice that sounds like Leonard Nimoy he said, "Do not worry Jay, you will get up to the beach and take a piss there, no big deal."  Ok.  Yeah.  Neurotic Jay chimed in, "But he has to go and get his bib and chip first.  If he doesn't have his bib and chip, he will have wasted the entire last 6 years of his life training to run.  The skies will burn and the earth will tremble.."  I let him win this one.  As soon as the bus arrived, I found a race coordinator who led me to the chip administrator where my bib and chip were anxiously waiting to be pinned to a race shirt.  Elation.  Well, not quite yet.  I had a water balloon in my belly that needed tending to.  Off to the bathrooms.  Ok, so they don't tell you, and probably won't tell you that before a marathon race, the bathrooms at the start line are more crowded than a coed bar on a Saturday night.  So after 10 excruciating minutes, I found and carved my name into a urinal.  Ahhhh.  Rookie mistake number five:  Don't overdo it with the liquids before the race.  If you didn't need a litre of fluid in you just before a run in training, don't try to jam one into you on race day.  Also, try to go to the bathroom in the comfort of your hotel room if possible.  Line ups suck.

"10 minutes until race time", I heard a peppy organizer announce on her handheld microphone.  "All marathoners to the start line."  'Marathoners' - that's me.  I smiled again.  This was my first marathon and I wanted to perform well, yet still complete it, so I set myself a goal and a stretch goal.  My goal was to finish, preferably in 4:15 or less, since I did a 42.2K in training in a little over 4 hours, with a couple of breaks.  My stretch goal was to break 4 hours.  So I placed myself just in front of the 4 hour pace bunny.  I had used Google Streetview to visualize the route, something I highly recommend if you don't have the opportunity to run or drive the marathon pre race.  It really helped me to mentally mark and prepare for the race.  I mentally split the marathon up into a half marathon, a 12 K and then a really hard 10 K.  I knew the half way point of the first "half marathon" was when the beach ended and I turned onto the highway into the countryside.  And once I reached the turnoff to the Confederation Trail, I was already half done the marathon, just another 12 K through the beautiful woods and another 10K into the city.  Rookie recommendation number one: Visualize the trail before running it.  Split it into bite-sized, achievable runs, that you've done in training.

"BLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!" was the sound of the start gun ( only slightly disappointed that it was not a gun at all ) and off I went.  The weather was perfectly clear, the sky was blue, the sun was rising above the Atlantic ocean to my left.  I took a few seconds to enjoy the scenery once I got out of the gate.  As with every half marathon I've ever done, I was fast at the start.  Too fast.  The combination of nerves and copious amounts of caffeine had my legs going hard.  I looked down at my garmin watch to see a 4:00/km pace.  Rational Jay, "Sloooow down, big fella."  And so I did.  I found my pace just between the 4:00h and 3:45h pace bunnies for the first 5 km or so and then, feeling good, decided to join the 3:45 group.  I paced with them really well, at first anyway.  The pace bunny was a large fellow, like me, so I figured he was the guy to follow.

Throughout most of my training, I had always preferred to be alone on the trails.  I am pretty anti-social when concentrating on my running form and I also use running as a means to escape the everyday, including social interaction.  My hour or three ( or four ) of zen.  I have to say though, running in a group is pretty cool.  One thing they don't tell you, and you don't realize unless you've been in a big race, is that after about 10 kilometers in, you are surrounded by a group of similar paced people with nothing to do but run and visit.  Combine this with sharing the same agony of a long distance run, you actually get to know these people pretty well, forming short-lived pseudo-friendships, a comradery of pain.  One guy that stands out particularly well was an older, British gentlemen, in his 70s that was pacing with the 3:45s.  PEI was his 250-odd marathon!  Donning a "100 marathon club" shirt, I was a little more than impressed.  I was able to practise my french with a Quebecer from Sherbrook, counting down each kilometer once we hit 25... "Juste vingt-sept plus, mon ami".  He inevitably shot back with a standard tongue-in-cheek french-Canadian curse, "Osti Tabernacle!", and a smile.

"Grrrrrr."  Oh no.  Everything was going great until kilometer 27. "Grrrooooorrooooroooo", my stomach moaned again.  The pace bunny glanced over at me and gave a big grin, "You had best take care of that now my friend, it won't get any better the more you run".  Now, in the interest of being concurrently open and couth, let me say this:  Too much caffeine is bad before a big race, it unnecessarily fills up your bladder.  This we've established.  Yes too much caffeine also gets the plumbing going and if you aren't careful, too much caffeine will catch up to your digestive system.  In fact, even though the porto-potties were aplenty and conveniently placed about 2-3 kilometers apart, when you drink too much caffeine and you gotta go, you gotta go now, not in 2 minutes or 1, or 30 seconds... NOW.  So, at somewhere between kilometer 27 and 28, I veered off the beautiful confederation trail into a pumpkin patch.  Fortunately, I was wearing dollar store mittens and without getting into too much detail, they were very ... um... multi-purpose that day.  Yeah.  So, Rookie mistake number six: bring toilet paper, you just never know ( especially if you make rookie mistake number five ).  In the wise words of Forrest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that."

Back to business.  I jumped back on the trail feeling light and energetic, but all of my buddies were gone.  I could see them all about 500 meters ahead and decided that I needed to catch them so I increased my pace in an attempt to run them down.  Mistake.  I burned it as hard as I could for a couple of kilometers and finally accepted that I was not going to catch them again.  That's ok.  I looked down at my garmin and noted I was still pacing well to finish in the 3:50-ish range - well within my stretch goal of finishing in 4 hours.  So, I decided to just gear back and keep an even and comfortable pace as I passed the 32 kilometer mark.  Things were good for another couple of kilometers, then it happened.  It happened and it caught me off guard, because when I ran a marathon in training, it never happened.  The wall.  The bonk.  At about kilometer 36 I went from a pleasant run in the woods to excruciating pain.  I felt like my body had taken on 100 pounds in the course of a couple of minutes, and the final 5 kilometers was full of 300-500 meter hills.  I have never, ever felt like this running.  Even when I started "running" 6-7 years ago and was figuring out how I could possibly go for 3 kilometers straight, without stopping, I never felt this much labour below the waist.  Physiologically, my body had run out of fuel and had started to burn the stored glycogen in my liver and muscles.  It felt like an awful, dizzy, nauseous, angry mess.  Blerch Jay showed up.  "You deserve a rest, you should walk for a bit.", the chubby little demon coaxed.  "Ignore him", I thought.  "No sense in hurting yourself, you wanna be able to run in the future.  You should really walk." "Piss off, you fat little bastard."  I had switched gears and was clearly hurting, but after all of this training and effort, ( and stubborn testosterone-driven pride ) I was not about to start walking now.

Kilometer 39: cramps.  Another thing that had never really bothered me in training was cramping.  Today was an exception.  With a little over 2 kilometers to go both of my calves and thighs turned into crampy, twitching balls of pain.  I didn't give Blerch Jay the satisfaction of walking, so I just stopped.  I stopped by a light post and stretched both legs for about 30 seconds and then I started to run again.  I refused to walk one step towards the finish line.  "Take that you Belgian waffle eating little lard truffle."

Kilometer 42 : "You can stop now, you've proven that you can do a 42.2 in training.  You can see the finish line.  Honestly, you are just doing this for yourself, you have nothing to prove by crossing the finish line running."  The fat blob's voice had taken over most of my psyche.  However, the cheer of the crowd inspired me to ignore his persistently annoying pleas.  I could see the "Finish" banner.  I was hurting bad.  I was too tired to look down at my garmin watch, but I could make out the last digits on the timer at the finish line: 3:59:40.  "You don't have to.."... "SHUT. UP."  I picked up my legs, which felt like tree trunks and heaved my destroyed torso into a crampy sprint.  Both calves screamed with every step, but I wanted that 4 hour finish.  Everything after that was a blur...

Once I crossed the finish line, they told me my gun time was 4:00:04.  I had missed it by 4 seconds.  Somehow, I had the medal on my neck and was wrapped in a foil blanket, though I don't recall any of this happening.  I immediately wabbled over to a water station, took a drink and smiled.  Done.  One of the officials looked over at me and said "Nice work.".  "Thanks, I just missed my goal of 4 hours by 4 seconds", I explained.  She smiled and said, "That is your gun time, your official, real time is your chip time, just head over to atlanticchip.ca to find out".  And that's what I did.  I pulled out my iPhone and navigated eagerly to the website.

3:59:44

"YES!!!"

I got a little emotional as I got into my car and began the trip home.  Noticing the Cows Ice Cream factory on the way out of Charlottetown, Blerch Jay said, "Let's get a triple scoop".  Rational Jay and Neurotic Jay agreed.