Another sweaty summer

I neglected the hell out of writing for the last three months, here I go:

After a spring where I ran whatever pace I wanted with little resistance, once June weather began in earnest, I eventually had to relent to the elements. Try as I might, I can't change how my body dissipates heat, which is to say not well at all. I find the limit to mind over matter. I think about the late Sammy Wanjiru, who was able to hold a pace others thought to be a stunt in the 2008 Olympic Marathon's hot and humid weather, yet he came out on top in a huge Olympic record time. Why can't I do that? We had divergent experiences at the 2010 Chicago Marathon, the only time I raced him (I gave him a few seconds of a head start by starting several rows back), but I always wonder if I can push myself harder. I can't, but it was not for lack of trying.

Aside from a few days in March and the regrettable warm weather in Cleveland, I was lucky to not have to deal with too many hot days this spring. That's coming to an end, though to be fair it's actually Summer now.I took two days off after I couldn't manage one Sunday, but found much nicer temperatures Wednesday night (June 13) I set out for what would be my last New Virginia Manor loop. To say I was aggressive would be fair, I was out close to 6:00 pace for the first two miles to get to the loop, then let loose and ran fast enough for the two loops to average 5:50 for 10 miles. It felt like that was my natural state. I knew it might be the last good run I have in the summer and in northern Virginia for a long time. I absolutely relished all 12.5 miles of it. I took the next day off, then ran a strained three miles Friday (June 15) evening down to the W&OD and back up through the metrobus road. My mom was in town for a wedding, so I took her to Lake Accotink for some running Saturday (June 16), and I tried the place out for the first time without running the six miles from Vienna. I liked it, though it was pretty warm and I insisted on running with some mountain bikers as long as I could. I went clockwise then counterclockwise plus a little extra for 8.5 miles. The next morning (June 17), after a day of shuttling stuff to my new house, I went out to Arlington to run the Little Falls loop that I didn't do nearly enough. It was unremarkable, though it was a worthwhile option to have.

Monday (June 18) evening, I continued my farewell tour with a Steelers loop at 6:30 pace. It was cool and pleasant. I took Tuesday off, then Wednesday (June 20) fought the evening heat to run a Westmoreland one last time. By five miles, I was in trouble, and I bailed out on Haycock and finished up with 6.5. With the temperature pushing 95, I didn't need to make myself hate running.

The next night (June 21) I finished my move with a van full of furniture and ends (no odds). Another hot, but dry, day- 98 at one point. When I took the van back to the West Falls Church, I decided to get my last run in and make it functional- I'd run the nine miles between my homes. I started out well- clutching a squeeze bottle of gatorade I would earn the right to drink. I slightly altered a Williamsburg and made it four miles at 6:30 pace, then cruised along Glebe feeling like a million bucks. The steep downhill to the Chain Bridge pushed my average to 6:21 for the first 5.5 miles, and I gulped the Gatorade when I crossed the Potomac and bid farewell to Virginia. I ran along Canal, with little traffic to hassle me, and turned up Arizona, about to tackle the 2.3-mile climb to Tenleytown. As I shot up the hill, though, everything crashed. I couldn't see, my heart started racing but feeling weak, my lungs began to hurt, and I had no recourse but to sit the hell down. I'm not sure how long I was there, but when I summoned the strength to resume, I jogged gingerly. After a few minutes climbed Arizona, it became apparent I would have been unwise to continue. So, I walked, still light headed. I kept walking until I reached Rockwood- a flat mile from the house. I jogged slowly but surely and finished the job, collapsing into the first-floor bathtub to rinse myself cool. I downed two quarts of gatorade and went about trying -- and failing -- to carry my stuff upstairs. I gave up soon and went to bed, waking up four hours later, falsely panicked that I had overslept.  The next day at work, my head felt like it was cement, and my arms could barely function. I think I am pretty much ran myself to exhaustion the night before. I think it was the most miserable I have been while running, and I probably pushed myself harder than I ever had before, though it was a bad idea to do so. I took the Friday off, smartly.

June 23- I slept in and ran a little too late to beat the rising temperatures. I headed off on what I'm calling my bad ending loop- around to Connecticut, down to Dupont and back up Massachusetts and Wisconsin. I made it halfway up Massachusetts before I overheated and decided to play it safe, in case I had done myself grievous harm Thursday night, and walked the rest of the way after running 5.75 miles.

June 24- Sunday morning I slept in a little bit too much again and resigned myself to an easy 5 miles on my Fordham loop that I adapted from my AU workout warmup.

July 4 I headed up to BCC to run around the track while some of the guys worked out. Ran around with Wiggy a lot and had a total of eight miles. In the afternoon, Witty and I went out and did a Hannay's Gate and I had to stop several times in the fifth mile to let me heart rate slow down.

July 5-6 Thursday and Friday I ran the same Partial Stefan loop, up Wisconsin to Somerset, then to the CCT and down to Albemarle, and back home. Thursday I was on my own and Friday I finally had a run with both Sam and Ryan.

July 7- I was up early Saturday to avoid the 106-degree heat, starting at 6:30, and even then I felt like I had slept in too much. Luckily I had only 9 miles to meet my 60 mile goal for the week, so I simply did a Rockland, stayed on Western to Chevy Chase Circle, came back on Nebraska then headed down Wisconsin to the Hearst field, did a few laps then came back.

July 8- Sunday afternoon, I wanted until the rains were supposed to come in the late afternoon. I set out around 5, with the temperatures still in the 90s, and journeyed down Porter to the Western Ridge Trail and eventually Beach Drive. When I hit Beach, the wind picked up as a thunderstorm brewed, and my first crossing of Rock Creek was greeted with a dramatic thunderclap. The temperature was more bearable and I braced for rain that didn't come. I turned up Bingham and then a long climb up Nebraska home.

July 9- Monday was dramatically better, and it showed in my pace. I ran up Nebraska to Connecticut, to the CCT. I started taking splits at the two-mile mark and marveled as I went 6:10, 6:00, 5:30 for the three miles before I eased up for a mile then was back up those dang Albemarle hills and off for home on Butterworth, a slightly better alternative to Albemarle. I ended up hitting 10.1 miles at 6:30 pace, my fastest in a while.

July 10- Tuesday morning's run to work was a pain. It was humid, I was tired and my knees hurt. Military Road has no sidewalk to speak of, and that made crossing Rock Creek Park a lot less pleasant than I had anticipated. By the time I got to Fort Totten Park, I was feeling beaten up, so I ran to the Brookland Metro and took that the rest of the way. I still got 6.5 miles at 6:55 pace. In the evening, I set off for a run in Somerset and hit a rainstorm less than a mile in, which was fantastic. It felt refreshing to have the water all over the place, blinding me at times, cooling me off constantly, providing entertainment. I ran some turns that had calf-deep torrents running down the hill. After my shoes were completely soaked, the knowledge that it couldn't get any worse released me to enjoy it more. I ended up getting 6.25 miles at a little under 7:00 pace for 13.75 total.

The next morning I headed out on my own to run a 10 mile loop in Somerset. It was incredibly humid and I was soaked within 20 minutes. It was a decent neighborhood for running, with little traffic, and I can easily see a road race working in there, assuming cooperation from the residents. I ended up averaging 7:30s, which

Friday morning I was in Pittsburgh and running eight miles around Chatham Village before taking a nap and heading down to my hotel for a conference. The weather was cool and dry and it looked like I'd have a good stint of training while I was home.

NOPE The next morning, I was up at 5:30 to warm up for my organization's fitness 5k. It was humid as all get out. I got down to the Convention Center and we were off. I burst out into the lead and passed by my department director, who was directing participants, and pointed out that that's why they hired me- to win the fitness 5k. I cruised over the Allegheny to the North Shore and ran alone out to the casino- 8:30 out. I turned and crossed paths with a variety of delegates and staff members and waved to them. I chose one of the bridges, bounded up the steps and back over the river and back to the convention center. I saw the organizer. Oh hello! Surprised to see me here? Yes, she was, because apparently the run finished on the lower level. I ran even splits for 17:00 on what I believe to have been 5k+, because there was no indication of when to turn around. I went out on the jail trail to finish up 12 miles.

I slept in the next morning and ran in the afternoon. It was pretty damned hot. I took Second Avenue out to Hazlewood Avenue and climbed one of the more miserable hills in recently memory. I must have been out of practice running in Pittsburgh. By the time I got to Schenley Park, I opted out of my golf course loop and headed back down the Panther Hollow Trail and back on the Jail Trail. I was pretty beaten up and ready to be done after 12 miles.

I took Monday off. Tuesday evening I headed out from the William Penn to Penn Avenue, then Butler until One Wild Place, then wound up the hill to Negley, then Penn until Children's Hospital, then Liberty. I had a life-sustaining drink of water near the Church Brew Works and continued my cruise down Liberty, totaling 12.

Wednesday morning I did five miles around Chatham Village in the morning, then eight around Fox Chapel in the evening. Climbing Guyasuta from Squaw Run was no joke. Thursday morning I did an easy five around Squaw Valley Park, and eight in the evening in Mt. Lebanon. Both were really tough, weatherwise.

Friday morning I struggled through wretched humidity in Frick Park and was lucky to get about seven miles in. I supplemented that with five around Chatham Village that evening. I took Saturday off to get more rest, because I clearly needed it. Sunday, I headed back to Frick and actually got a solid 10 miles in.

I finally got some new shoes, I realized only after looking up my old order confirmation e-mails that I had been wearing the same two pairs, aside from workouts and some long runs, since early January, almost 2,100 miles.

I'm not quite sure what I did for a while, and I won't delay in finishing this up just to figure that out. There was a lot of doubling and I steadily increased my mileage: 80, 85, 90, 96, and 100 the week ending when I went out to Steve's cabin. I do remember a lot of struggle against the heat and humidity and dissatisfaction with running in northwest DC. It's not to say that it's bad. It's the best part of the city in which to live to be a long distance runner, but in comparison, it's terrible compared to what I had in McLean. The traffic relegates me to the sidewalks, which are crowded with people. Though I have mapped and explored extensively, I have yet to find anything that compares to even my middling loops before. The climbs uphill at the end of every run might be making me stronger, but I don't need them every day. I'm a few miles from Rock Creek Park, but in the summer, it's so muggy and bereft of wind, it's miserable. When it cools down, it will get dark too early to be able to safely run there. And every time we have a heavy rain, trees come down and block trails. Despite all of this, however, I've been able to run decent mileage.

Possibly adding to my frustration is the savagery with which the summer beat me. I don't want to belabor the point, but I'm going to. I should just stop trying to run fast during the summer. Nothing good comes from it. I'll be fine when the weather cools, but for two months, I'm useless faster than 7:00 pace. So, as long as I live here, I won't even plan on racing in the summer.

Friday night, Sam, Beth, Drea and I drove out to Pembroke to Steve and Lori's cabin for an abbreviated training camp. We drove out to Pandapas Park Saturday morning and ran about 10.5 miles on the Poverty Creek Trail, out and back. The climatic change from DC was remarkable, we were running at 10:30 am and feeling great. That afternoon we ran to the War Spur overlook, gingerly, thanks to all of the rocks on the trail. The view was magnificent, as (almost) always. We tried to eat three dishes at Kal Bee among the four of us, but my resistance to pork was our weak spot, and we yielded.

That night, we got to bed significantly earlier than the night before, but woke much earlier after a sudden rain shower hammered the tin roof like thousands of gunshots. Earplugs fixed that. Later that morning, we headed up to the Mountain Lake hotel to meet the Richmond team for its preseason camp long run. At noon, it was still 59 degrees, with a wet chill. It was absolutely ideal. I caught up with a bunch of the guys and met the freshmen as we headed up the gravel road past the lake. We took a detour to see the overlook but the group split up later on. Sam and I continued on the road, climbing like crazy, then turned. On the way back, Sam wanted to let the thing be pressed and I went with him for a while, until my knee started to get sore. he was going less than I was anyway, and I decided to explore the dirt (mud) trails for a while. I ended up getting 2:12, which I equated to 20 miles.

The next evening, Witty and I went out for a run through Rock Creek Park via Calvert. It began pouring and we just relished it.

Thursday evening I went to Falls Church to see my barber and get a decent run. I ended up doing a Slate Run and reveling in the empty suburban streets and I had all to myself.

Saturday I went out to Bull Run Park for a potential long run. The humidity and my fatigue from a long week of not sleeping well doomed me, and I ended up only getting in a little more than 90 minutes for 13 and another 100 mile week.

Sunday morning, I slept in and ran down to Rock Creek Park and around the Western Ridge trail until I got to the field off of Military where I planned to do a fartlek. Only, I didn't want to anymore. I ran some lame laps around the field and headed home for a total of eight. That afternoon, I did the Connecticut loop until I hit the Massachusetts Bridge, and instead took the trail down to Rock Creek Park and ran to the Melvin Hazen Trail for 12.

Monday morning I did the Van Ness Street loop Scott and I did a few weeks ago for eight, then in the afternoon ran to the Donaldsons Run Trail with Billzzz for another eight. It was a little too warm and the park had no water fountain.

Tuesday I did a partial Stefan in the morning in wretched humidity, which drained me down to my lowest weight in years. It was about 90 degrees after work when I did a Potomac loop, extended around the Capitol, and I was really feeling parched by five miles. 13 total.

Wednesday  (Aug. 29) I did a Hannay's Gate five miles easy in the morning, then went to BCC for a workout. I was feeling great after a 2:32 800 warmup. I stuck in the middle of the pack first the first mile and went through in 4:59, then 4:55 for the second, feeling like it was natural. Then, on the 400 jog after the second, I started feeling like I couldn't get a deep breath in. I didn't make it 100 meters in. I came back and started the 5:04 mile with the B group, but was a second slow at the 400 and wasn't feeling up to the rest, so I got off the track and cooled down.

Thursday (Aug 30) I did another Hanny's Gate in the morning, then a Nellie Custis in the evening for 18 total.
Friday morning I woke up without any interest in running, so I didn't. It was my first day off all month, but after 413 miles, I figured why not.

Saturday morning I woke up to hear Molz, Guy and Andy talking about how humid it was. It couldn't be anything worse than what I've felt this summer, I thought. YES, IT COULD. It was awful. It wasn't just uncomfortable, it was hard to breathe. Lauder and Dana picked Hunter and me up a little while later and took us to Pole Green Park. I hadn't been there since 2005, while working for the Herald-Progress. I took off on my warmup around the course and started to feel a stabbing sensation under my shoulder. I joined Watson for a bit and wore my 10-year-old spikes, at which Rhue continues to amaze that they are still in one piece.

I lined up on the far end of a field of 70-some and judged my chances for success. Earlier in the week, I wanted to run as close to 5:00 pace as possible. With the humidity as bad as it was, that was unfeasible. I decided I might as well see how long I could hang on and just have the race kick me into action. I wouldn't be in the same shape as last year, given that I'm a month behind in my training, so I didn't want to set even moderate goals without extremely favorable conditions, lest I lose the results in a cloud of frustration.

Instead, I was lost in a cloud of runners as we ran across the field at Pole Green Park. The last time I was here, it was covered in booths during the Hanover Tomato Festival. I was shocked I was able to run across the grass as fast as I was- during my warmup I could barely jog. It must be the adrenaline of my first race since May. I just kind of sat back in the lead group for a while and followed Kyle and Adam. I realized after most of a lap that I had been running pretty fast for a while, but had no idea how long of how far we were on the course. We came back into the open field and soon enough I found out how fast we were going- 4:51 for the mile. Lauder reportedly said "he's going to pay for that." I kept pushing, but I was starting to feel the combination of thick air and the fastest mile I had run in months. I hung on for a while, but started to fall out of the pack and then was on my own. After what I guess to have been eight minutes, my breathing was a wreck, and I was just pushing for the heck of it, to finish the race. I went through the second mile in 10:10 and just couldn't wait for it to be over. People kept passing me and I had no motivation to stop them. I hoped some animal would come out of the woods and tear me to pieces so I didn't have to finish the race. Not soon enough, I got to the last stretch, and Lauder yelled to "use your weight on the downhill." I tried to kick, but two chaps caught me at the end as we crossed the line and ran right into the finishers waiting to have their numbers recorded. I ended up running 16:05, surprising, given how dead I was at the end. Looking back, I could have pushed more, if I was ready for that kind of pain. I paid lip service to cooling down, but not very much. I was going to enjoy the rest of my day off.

Until I woke up from my nap when Benford showed up to run with Molz. he had my shoes with him, and I figured I might as well go for another run to clear out my legs, after wearing spikes. The first 10 minutes were a rough sequence of belches and back cracks as I dealt with my only-recently-digested lunch, then  an ankle turn. I shook it all off, though. We ran through Byrd Park's Northbank trail, new to me, and over the Lee pedestrian Bridge for a loop of Belle Isle before heading back over the Nickel Bridge and back to Molz's. I hit 10 miles in  61:50, for 6:11 pace, most of that made up in the second half. I found out later that the temperature was in the 90s, but I felt a lot better than I had in the morning. And I ended up getting my 100 miles in for the week, to boot.

The next morning I went off on my own over the Nickel Bridge again to Forest Hill Avenue, then pretty much went backwards on the marathon course. I passed Kyle and Conor heading the other way, but wanted to stick with my route rather than go with them. I was cruising along uncomfortably fast for the humid morning when I got to Stratford Hills and chased a guy down five miles in before heading up Rockfalls. The trip down was bereft of the normal breeze I enjoy so. I followed the detour from Riverside Drive up to Hugenot, then down the hill and over the new bridge to Panorama and through campus. I stopped at the track for water, 10 miles in, and headed up Towana and along Tree Chopt to Grove. I stopped at the mercifully-placed cooler and had a few drinks and gave myself an absolutely necessary splash of ice water in the face. The rest was just miserable. I was hitting the limit for the heat my body could handle and get rid of. When I got to the Boulevard, I stopped and walked back to Molz's. I got 14.25 and later that day decided against doubling.

I checked out the Google streetview of the Hugenot Bridge and saw this dude running

Labor Day morning, I ran from the line with Dickson, Murph, Fox, Tex, Outlaw and Seamus. It was again muggy, and my plans for 13 miles were quickly quashed by my general misery. I ended up getting 11. That evening, I headed down CT to Rock Creek, via Calvert, and headed up the trail toward Ridge Road. As I passed the zoo, though, I saw someone I thought I knew and for the rest of the run was unsure if I was going crazy or not.

Tuesday night I ran a Partial Stefan, but was having a rough time and barely finished seven miles. Wednesday I ran up Nebraska to Oregon and took Western back. That was difficult too, the humidity was killing me. The track workout was over quickly. I led the B group through 3/4 mile and felt the stabbing sensation in my lung, so I dropped out.

Thursday, I struggled through something in the morning, but then joined Witty for an hour out and back on the CCT via Somerset. I felt much better after that. I took Friday off.

Saturday I did an easy 63 minutes from the line with Jake and Sam, without a doubt the most enjoyable run from the line for me, ever. In the evening I did a CT-CCT with Bitz after a storm and relished the cool air. I had been waiting months for that. The run in the mountains was a tease, because I'd have to come back to DC weather. Now, it's getting reasonable to expect this weather.

Sunday morning I woke early to run up to BCC and warm up around the normal loop so I could see the guys finishing the Parks Half. I missed them, though, but got back to the track and was right on schedule for my 2x20 workout. I started slow, 83, but quickly got ahead of pace and averaged 5:26s, feeling really relaxed. I had to take a break during my recovery jog to attend to my intestines, but was right on time to start the second set. Through the mile alone in 5:19, Dickson and Fridge joined me for their three miles at 5:20. Dickson led superbly and I was through 3.75 in 19:53, with no major distress. Given the problem I had digestively, I was even happier with what was on paper my best 2x20 workout ever. Ahead of pace and relaxed. The cool weather does wonders, even though it was still incredibly humid. I didn't have a long cooldown in me.

Monday I met up with Scott for a morning run, then went off into RCP on my own in the evenings, down the Soapstone Valley Trail, along the Western Ridge to the line and the Valley Trail, then the trail between Beach and Ross drives, and up the Melvin Hazen Trail for a total of 20 for the day.

The Cleveland Marathon is Decadent and Depraved

I did my usual Bolling for seven miles Wednesday (April 25) morning, but then decided against going to BCC for track work, opting instead for an 11 mile route on the W&OD to Vienna, then a loop back through neighborhoods. I wasn't feeling too great, though.

I took Thursday off of work to go up and watch the Penn Relays, so I took my time in the morning running out to McLean High School to do 4k,3k,2k, 2x1k, but early on I wasn't feeling great. I did some drills and ran back home. It was a late night, and I got about 3.5 hours of sleep on a shockingly comfortable couch.

Friday, I walked to work and before I went in I got a tired eight miles, out to the FDR fields and back. That evening I ran an Idylwood+ for another five, and slept like crazy after.

The next morning, I was up at 6 and out the door at 6:40. I planned to run 12 miles before the Jaguar 5k to get myself nice and tired, then race the 5k and cool down home. My first mile was just over 7:00, but I caught up in the next two, hitting three miles in 19:00. Three more miles in 18:30, by which point I was on Cottage and just rolling, having never run that direction before, it was cool to see everything from the other side. The next three miles were 18:05, but apparently when I remapped the course to include a few missed turns, it was more than three miles. I slowed down a little, with the intention of actually trying to run fast at the race, but when I got to the vestigial bridge over the beltway, I couldn't resist a few surges,and I kept of kept that going through Fairview Park. I thought better of my plan to cut it very close to the 5k start, since I was picking up my packet, so I cut a mile off the loop. I eased up as I headed down Route 50 and showed up at Falls Church High School for the Jaguar 5k, having averaged 6:13 for the 11 miles.

Everything I had read indicated the race started at 8, but when I picked up my number, it became apparent the race was a half hour later. I jogged around trying to stay loose and keep my heart rate up, but my brilliant plan to be "nice and tired" at the start to simulate the latter stages of the half marathon was beaching like a whale. Eventually the 5k start rolled around.

The gun went off and with it, a flock of floppy-haired teens out for yucks in the race's first stretch. I got around them by the first turn, then caught the last one, who actually looked like he could be kind of dangerous, right as we got out of the parking lot. I cruised through the neighborhoods, pushing a little more than I would have liked, but not interested in having any of the kids catch me. The first mile was mostly downhill, but I was shocked to come through at 5:01, I was expecting something more in the 4:40 range, considering my effort and the course.  I had nothing to worry about from the teens chasing me- I didn't hear any footsteps or cheers behind me. The second mile was heavily uphill as I turned onto Camp Alger Avenue, I saw the same old man out walking that I had seen two weeks before. I slowed a bit to say hi, then got back to business to split a lackluster 5:25 in the second mile.The third mile was more uphill and battling through the crowds of runners still in the first mile, but when I turned onto Holly Hill I found out the roads were not closed to traffic after all, because I had cars on either side of me as I turned onto Marc. I claimed the middle of the road after the turn and let the drivers deal with me until I got back to the school grounds popped up a hill and ran 300 on the track to finish in 16:30. I was pleased that after the long, pretty hard warmup and the unexpected wait, I was able to average a little faster than my goal half pace, but I still would have liked to have been faster.

As much as I love the CCT to Lake Accotink, it always tires me out a lot more than a mostly-flat trail should, and Sunday was no different. Gone, though, were the sunset clouds of gnats who pestered Karl and me the last time I was there. I took it easy and averaged 6:50s throughout, though as usual I was ridiculously thirsty in the last four miles.

Monday was a trip to Tenleytown to look at a house then a late run to McLean High School for some quarters. 69, 69, 67, 69, 68, 67, 67, 67, 69, 70, 70, 67. Then a cooldown for 13. Tuesday was another house but an earlier return home and, I believe, a Pimmit-Idylwood, though I'm not positive. Wednesday I struggled through the humidity to do some 1200s with Karl, Diddy and Syd Barrett, but I got pretty dizzy after a while and dropped out in favor of a few laps with Murph.

The next day I did five miles, probably an Idylwood+. That was when my back started to hurt, a different part than last time, I think I took the afternoon off to recover, or something. Friday morning I started a New Virginia Manor, but cut it after one loop, it was just too humid.

Saturday morning I was back in Pittsburgh and had plans for a nice long workout at 5:20 pace- 400 on the track, 1k on the oval, a mile on the track, 2k on the oval, 2 miles on the track, 4k on the oval, then 4k on the track. I was doing just fine until the youth soccer teams starts swarming the field inside the track while I was in the middle of my two mile. With kids running into lane one after soccer balls and parents not seeming to care where they stood, I was fed up. I tried to do the 4ks on the oval, the humidity was really getting to me by that point, and the temperature was climbing, so I opted for a long cooldown. It was really humid, I felt awful and wondered if I should even bother with Cleveland--two weeks later in a volatile month. The recent, very favorable temperatures on race day, however, convinced me to stick with the plan.

Sunday, I ran around and watched the Pittsburgh Marathon and Half, a total of 18 miles. My back was not a  problem while I was running. Monday I did another fartlek on the W&OD, my back wasn't even an issue. Tuesday I took off. Wendesday back to BCC for 5xmile- 5:30, 5:20, 5:10, 5:00, 4:49. Our pacer was slow at 800 for the last (2:28+) so I took the second half a little harder- 69 and 70. I didn't feel my back at all. The next morning I did a Slade Run at 6:35 pace, with some intestinal problems in mile 6 and 7. Friday was off to let my back rest.

Saturday was a run up to McLean High School for 2x20, but I got out fast- 5:08 for the first and second miles. I managed to ease up later on, but dodged a lot of lane-one walkers. I decided to just go for 4 mile, and averaged 5:15 pace feeling easy. Again, no pain. Afterward, though, was another issue.

Sunday I went out to Alexandria to run with Dave O'Hara and Murph on the Mt. Vernon Trail. The back pain was constant, though I could run through it. I was seriously regretting putting $93 into the Cleveland Half at this point.

I took Monday off to rest the back. Tuesday evening I headed off to do a NVM, but the back wasn't cooperating. I made it a mile and turned around and went home. The next morning I successfully ran an Idylwood+ in the morning, then up to McLean in the evening for 5:13, 5:18, 5:13 and back. No 30 miles on my 30th birthday.

Thursday morning I went out to do a NVM, but stopped after one loop. Friday morning I took off, and in the afternoon, I headed up to Pittsburgh with Dickson and Beth, with Drea and Paul in their car. After stopping at the Country Club Mall in Cumberland, I drove the rest of the way to the JBI, choosing one of my favorite routes -- through the Laurel Highlands and the Mon Valley. That two hour chunk was nothing short of amazing, even as I was driving right into the setting sun.

My back and hip were still troubling me Saturday morning, so I skipped my pre-race jog around Chatham Village in fantastic weather. That would have been a good day for the race, aside from my discomfort.

After the drive to Cleveland and a stop at the miserable IX Expo Center to pick up our bibs, after paying $8 to park, we got some dinner and we all settled into the bizarrely-designed rooms at the Comfort Inn Suites near Cleveland State that lacked a wall between the shower and the living room. After a long night of sleep the night before at home, I was prepared for general discomfort on the foldout bed which didn't really conduct body heat too readily.

In the morning, we took a cab ride with two delightful ladies from Charleston, WV, driven by a temperamental cabbie who "enjoyed the hell out of being fat" and congregated at a place where every out-of-town team feels like a winner- Cleveland Browns Stadium. It was warm- in the 60s, and after our warmup, sweat was running all over my head and torso. It was going to be rough. Thanks to seven or so Aleve, I couldn't feel my back or hip. At least something was going right.

The start was up a slight hill, evidently they have those in Cleveland, they also have a number of delays for the race start that never were clear to me. It looked like an awfully pale field, if you know what I mean.

I lagged at the start, as is my tendency. After weaving through the hoi polloi, I was within reach of the leaders, and none of them looked to be going too fast. I was in the front within 30 seconds and cruised along with the pack until we hit the first turn. I took it aggressively, keeping my pace consistent, but everyone else slowed. I figured it was time to go for it- nobody else was going to be taking the half seriously, with its lack of prize money, so I shouldn't concern myself with the early-race jockeying among marathoners from Lorian, Ashtabula and Streetsboro.

So, I ran ahead and nobody else came with me. I hit the first mile in 5:28, and I was surprised it was that slow, though the hill certainly was a factor. There wasn't a sliver of shade on the shoreway along Lake Erie. All I could hear were my own steps, and I thought maybe I could run away with this thing. That thought was reinforced when I hit the second mile in 5:05. I couldn't feel my hip, maybe it was better, maybe my stride was doing its job, maybe the borderline overdose of anti-inflammatories was doing its job. Maybe any of my multitude of relatives in Cleveland would see the race on the television before they took their Sunday morning trips to Marc's, the May Company, Malley's Candies or the Crawford Auto Museum and say "oh my, that's Charlie."

I kept cranking, marveling at the amount of sun-- there was nothing stopping that mother today. After a mile in 5:15, I started to feel the muscles around my shins tighten up and my forefoot striking was coming to an end. A few seconds later, I heard a bicycle, then a lot of breathing. Then I saw the shadows, not-so-elongated by the sun behind me, of a pack of skinny dudes. Suddenly, I was surrounded by east africans and one white dude. There was the pack of marathoners shooting for the sub 2:20 bonus. I hadn't seen a single member of this pack on the starting line. They rushed past me, no surprise, since my fourth mile was 5:41-- not where I needed to be, to put it lightly.

Now it was time for me to figure out what kind of race it was going to be. Would I try to regain that pace the pack was setting, or fight for whatever position I had in the half marathon, ambiguous as it was? That fantasy about leading the race crashed faster than Kellen Winslow, Jr on a motorcycle.

I tried to get back on my forefeet to chase that pack, and my legs cramped immediately. Looks like I was going to be forced to the latter. I managed to maintain by pace for the next mile. 5:41 for a 27:12 five mile split as we weaved through a shady neighborhood. That was kind of nice, though I lost a few positions there. As I turned eastward on Detroit Avenue and finished a 5:43 mile, I was running directly at the sun. I passed the 10k park in 34:01, well behind where I hoped to be at that point. I took two cups at each water stop and doused myself to try to keep my head together. It helped for about 15 seconds, which made a difference in my 5:30 seventh mile and 5:34 eighth. I don't remember much of nine, in 5:35, but 10 was an adventure. A downhill of which I failed to take advantage in my chase of a pack of three, complicated by a few loose cars on the course that I dodged on my way back up the hill. At the top, I was cooked, and it showed in my 5:47 split for a 55:23 10 mile. At least in my Philly half I was under 55 at 10--this was troubling. Maybe I could gut it out.

Nope.

Back into the sun on Carnegie, over the bridge, those now-creepy statues and another 5:47 for a real kick in the pills. The last two miles offered a little shady relief, though I was losing the capacity to judge my distance traveled. I got a little better in mile 12- 5:38, but soon after the marathoners split off and I saw the one chance for redeeming this race fade away when one guy continued straight toward the half marathon finish. Victory now beyond my reach, I focused on finishing, merging streams of 10k runners.

"What the hell??" I said.

I really had enough by this point, and even the otherwise-welcome downhill didn't do anything for me, I finished up, with a 6:24 last 1.1--miserable, really, and came to a rapid stop when I crossed the line. I had no idea there was a fellow four seconds behind me. I also had no idea in which place I had finished. Some handler tried to scoop me away, but I escaped to watch Drea and Beth finish. My first thought was that one of my left toes must be bleeding like hell. The pains and aches I had been deferring for 73 minutes all called in their debts at the same time, and I lurched around with a degenerative limp. It got really f%$@#ing hot out there, and the marathoners all suffered. I'm sure the winner didn't want to sneak in at 2:19:59.

1:13:13. Not what I was hoping to run. Part of me was thrilled that I was even able to run 13 miles at 5:35 pace, after the discomfort and downright pain I had felt in the weeks prior. The fact that it was a sweaty mess didn't help things, and should have made me happier with being able to hang on, but all of these add up to the fact that I didn't get the job done. I didn't win the race or improve my best time, which remains from a hilly race I ran with a cold- granted, in perfect conditions.

Despite my feelings of failure in terms of the race, the trip itself was fantastic. On the way home, I nailed the Breezewood trifecta of KFC, Dairy Queen and Taco Bell. The KFC was nothing short of divine.

Back in Virginia, I took a full week off. The bender I had planned became a Tuesday evening and a Saturday night where I stretched the limits of a full liver and an empty stomach. It was a miserable week and I'm not sure if not running made it worse or prevented it from sinking lower.

Then Molz and I headed up to Winchester on Memorial Day to run the Loudoun Street Mile with Witty and Billzzz. The drive was pleasant. The race did not bode well. It was warm, I hadn't run in a week, and I was ill prepared to race a mile, but what the hell? Molz and I warmed up and I realized a few minutes in that there would be no miracles. I was drenched after 15 minutes. My back, which was miraculously comfortable  starting Monday morning, started acting up as we jogged to the start. I saw Tim Schuler, the maniac master, down from Chambersburg. The heat was overwhelming me, but as I would find out minutes later when the race started, it was the least of my worries.

My habitual slow starts off the line was deadly here. I was immediately left behind and rushed down the hill to catch the huge pack. At the bottom, though, I felt the exertion catch up to me and I felt, for the first time in my running career, like I might not live to see the finish. My lungs has to have been run clean through with a sword, there was no other explanation for what I was feeling. Except maybe the 63 second 400 split...

The next 400 was up a hill in the sun. I stopped even pretending I was racing and jogged it. 79.99. Not quite 80. I thought of Lauder's 4:52 last year at this race and wondered if I had the wherewithal to match it at this point. I charged down the hill. No I didn't. I meandered a bit. 74. We hit the flat-to-uphill last stretch on the pedestrian mall and I started to fight for my position again, but that didn't last too long. I started hemorrhaging places and managed to struggled in at 4:51.8 for 25th place. I just managed to squeek by what a fellow who trained much less than I did ran on a much hotter day the year before. Great job, Chaz.

I'd rather be a half a second slower than look like an idiot

The next day I went out to Burke Lake with Fun Liz. The sky was dark, in advance of a rainstorm, and the humidity was raging. I ran off around the lake and was feeling pretty good for a while, splitting 6:00 miles for a little over 18 minutes. The clouds of gnats were a pain, but I was moving again, and without pain. Then suddenly everything caught up with me- the heat, humidity, and I stopped. I grabbed my knees as I struggled to breathe, and watched the bicyclists I passed with such ease cruise by me. Soon Liz caught me, and I ran with her for about a minute until I had to take another break. My decline was swift, but decisive. I jogged in and finished 35 minutes of running right before the storm started.

Wednesday after work I gave running another shot- an Idylwood+. Five miles in 33:30. Thursday evening a Seaton, for six miles at 6:40 pace. Friday was a nice day to take off. Saturday morning I rose and just started running and played it by ear. 6:30 average for this loop, with a few stops at garage sales.

I had planned to run very early Sunday morning, taking advantage of the phenomenal June weather. Back after the George Washington Parkway race, I had a crazy thought that I would keep my options open for a spring marathon after Cleveland. I settled on the God's Country Marathon in Coudersport, Pa. It was a small race, a point-to-point course between two towns, and I'd be able to register the day of the race, giving me flexibility to strike if the weather was good. I figured why the hell not? If I am feeling good after Cleveland, and the weather wouldn't be too oppressive, I might as well just see what I could do. As it turned out, the weather was great, but I was not. AJ Kelly ended up winning in 2:42, which would have been a nice time to run, especially if we had kept each other company on a pretty lonely course. So, I designed a 26.2 mile course through McLean, Great Falls and Falls Church and I would give it a shot.

When I didn't want to do that when the alarm went of at 4, I slept in and decided to do it after I watched the episode of Mad Men I missed the week before. That eventually meant a 9:30 start. It was warmer than had I started at 4:30, but not terrible. I ran the first two miles carrying a quart of gatorade, which I hid in a tree two miles in. After I got that out of my hand, my form straightened out.

I navigated the new neighborhood past Daleview with more ease this time than in March, but I struggled on the Belleview hills. My thirst was starting to hit me when I got to Georgetown Pike. Luckily I was coming up to a point where I could turn back toward where I stashed my Gatorade. I can't remember the name of the subdivision I entered, but it was clear it didn't consider itself a thoroughfare. The map I consulted, however, begged to differ. It was hilly, and I was starting to labor, but I could keep going. I wound around until what I thought to be the logical turn. Eventually I hit a cul de sac I hadn't expected. Maybe I turned early. I headed the opposite way and found the same situation. Back from whence I came, I saw an imposing-looking gatehouse blocking what looked like a driveway. I decided to just go back and turn on Swinks Mill, a long uphill that really didn't do it for me. Back over the beltway and up Balls Hill Road. I stopped a few times in the last few miles, not sure what it would take to make me comfortable again running, but I knew the answer was going to be fluid of some sort. Salt was caking my once-flexible shorts turning them into a chamois-like consistency. I finally got back to the Gatorade bottle and went to town. After that, there would be no more running. I ended up running this. I walked home the last two miles, pretty tired out and still thirsty.

Monday evening I ran with the DC Capital Striders and bumped into Teddy Winschel, a total of nine miles, then did six the next evening with Elyse's gang of fun runners. I took Wednesday, National Running Day, off. Thursday night I did what be my last Slade Run, averaging 6:22 pace for 13.25 miles. Toward the end, I actually got chilly. What a gift this first part of June has given runners in DC. Friday morning I woke up to 56 degrees and hopped out of bed for a morning run, but found that my elusive hip/back pain had returned. I meandered six miles around part of the Bolling loop, but never settled in.

Saturday morning I ran a sleep-deprived eight miles on the towpath with Karl, Jake, Diddy, Dix, Murph and Bitz. Sunday I planned to a variety of the Irvin long run, but within a mile I could tell the heat would be too much, I switched to a Double Pimmit, but that proved to be too hot, too. I made it seven miles.

I'm still figuring out my fall schedule vis-a-via cross country races, but I will give the half another shot in late October, which should fit well, at the Charlottesville Fall Classic. That will also give me a chance, after the race to tour south-central Virginia in its most enjoyable month.

For now, nothing but base, most runs will be less than an hour for my own sake. The heat is here and it's time for me to get used to it. A few weeks of my northern Virginia farewell tour, then it's onto the big city and the Tenleytown Running Endeavour.

Dragging

Last August was tremendous for training. This August, so far, has been horrendous.

Right now I can't imagine running hard for a long time. Which is why the framework of my season is so refreshing right now. As much difficulty as I am having running with ease right now, I'll be racing in a totally different climate. Last summer was no peach, either, but by the time I got to early October, and even the beginning of Chicago. I'll be doing the long workouts in September, October and November, all of which will be a lot more appealing to my delicate temperature sensitivity. ("Just get a skirt that wicks the sweat away, Nancy." - Joe Wiegner)

I have a week in Madison County, Va. to keep me motivated, I need it right now.

Tuesday night I did an Oak loop for 10 miles at 6:50 pace, with nothing significant to note. It wasn't fun, but it wasn't miserable.

Wednesday morning I got up to do my typical workout morning Park Plus, but 41 seconds into the run, I just had no desire to keep going, so I stopped. That afternoon it was cooler (high 70s) but extremely humid. I dragged through the warmup and decided against the 3x2 mile, instead planning on 5x1200. We started out with two 3:45s, and they went smoothly, though I noticed I felt no different during the intervals than I did during the recovery. This became a much bigger problem when I led the next one, intending to run 3:42,and I found myself two seconds fast for the first lap. I stopped running and just had enough. By this point rain was falling, but the temperature and humidity did not change. My head was mired in a cloud of heat and the rain drops did not help it at all. I certainly did not want to run anymore, so I went home in hopes of getting a good night's sleep.

Thursday morning, I thought I had it all figured out- a frozen squeeze bottle of gatorade should get me through my run to work without the crash I felt last week. For the most part I felt alright, though I stopped at 8.25 to completely wring out my shirt. I started getting overheated at 9.5, crossed the bridge and again stopped at Leo's at GW for more gatorade. I made it exactly 12 miles, then I stopped for a traffic light. When I took my first step off the curb when the light went my way, I started to lose my balance, so I stopped immediately and walked the last mile.

After a day full of rehydration, I went home and ran a Seaton, six miles at 6:40 pace. I was shocked at how fast I went without even trying, when just 10 hours before I would have just been happy with being able to run another mile.

My mom came to visit, and she wanted to run Friday morning, so after a good night's sleep, we drove to McLean high school, and I warmed up for what I planned to be 5xmile speeding up a second per lap starting at 5:16. I did so for the first mile, but I felt wrecked afterward, so I just did another 2k loop as a cooldown. Mom felt no better after four miles on the track. Suffice it to say, we will not be doing Riley's Rumble.

Sometimes it dries, most of the time it doesn't

Once back from Oregon, my primary focus was to regain whatever heat acclimation I had shed while running comfortably for a week. Rather than risk the logistical folly of trying to do the Dirk farewell run from Bethesda to Alexandria Sunday morning, I planned to run from home and then go to Alexandria. What I didn't count on was the persistence of Pacific Time in my blood. After the Crystal City race, I went home with the intention of being in bed by midnight. I was, but I remained alert and anxious until well after three. I don't remember if I woke up with my alarm at 7, but I definitely woke up at 11:30, so the running would fall to the evening...

The heat during the day didn't seem that bad, so when I went out for 13 around 7:30, I didn't anticipate any trouble. It quickly became apparent that even though I recognized it was much hotter, my legs did not, because my splits through 6 miles of the Double Pimmit averaged 6:20. I slowed my ass down, but it was too late. I got the water bottle I had stashed at eight miles and just ran home for nine. It became pretty clear that this would be the recovery week I had planned a week later.

Monday morning, I wasn't waking up, and when I did, I realized what my body had been hiding since Friday- a pernicious cold. I dragged myself through work and headed down to the gym to use the treadmill. The earphones I brought didn't work, so I found myself listening to the serious steps I was taking on the belt, in comparison to the walkers next to me. I got pretty self conscious about it, and without anything to really keep my focus, I lost enthusiasm quickly and stopped at three miles. I went home, had some Benedryl and went to sleep.

The next morning I did a pretty evenly-paced 10 miles on the Oak loop, ending up a little faster than 7:00 pace. I felt good for eight miles of it. That afternoon I did six easy with Will to the Memorial Bridge and back.

I didn't run Wednesday morning, then totaled 12 at practice that evening, which was delightfully dry, though hot. For 8x800, I went 2:31, 2:30, 2:26, 2:27, 2:26, 2:24, and 2:21. Though it was nice to run fast, I think it might have been more useful to just run 2x :32, :30, :28, :26 for consistency's sake, to get a better feel for the times in the heat.

The dryness was a godsend, though. I was dry by the time I did the cooldown.

Thursday morning saw nothing of the sort when I ran to work. For most of the first 10 miles, I was okay, stopping twice for water fountains. I was soaking wet two miles in, but able to keep an easy seven minute pace, mainly thanks to the gradual downhill on the W&OD, Bluemont Junction and Custis trails. To be frank, it would be a lot more interesting to just run on roads to get to work, since the trails are pretty miserable and boring as all getout. When I crossed the Roosevelt Bridge and passed the Kennedy Center, my dehydration hit me. I needed HALP.

Luckily I came across a deli near GW and bought a squeeze bottle of Gatorade, immediately feeling a difference when I had some cool fluid replacing the waterfall on my epidermis.

That evening I ran an easy five on Idywood.

Friday morning I felt like crud, and waited until after work to run on the treadmill in the office gym. I just did 20 minutes of 5:30 pace at a 2 percent incline, with a warmup and cooldown.

Saturday morning I ran another easy five on Idylwood.

I was in Hyde Park, NY Saturday for Mikey's wedding, and the weather was a bit more fair, up there, so I thought about doing a long run Sunday morning. I remembered I could do a long run any day, and this was a rare opportunity to spend with my high school friends, so I backtracked on that commitment. Instead, I just started running a little loop I put together that would hit 10.5 miles, but took a wrong turn early. I saw an opening into the woods, and thought I'd check it out. I kept pressing and eventually found a little trail, which I followed for about 15 minutes until it started feeding back on itself. I headed the other way and found myself on Roosevelt Farm Lane and its various spurs. It was shady, and certainly cooler than DC, but gigantic flies kept biting my back and shoulders. I really could have done without that. The brunch was looming, so I hurried back and ended up with about 9.25 miles.

Monday I woke up and did a Westmoreland for 8 miles, then did an easy four on the treadmill after work, slightly uncomfortable because I left socks at home.

Tuesday I slept in a bit, after getting home late from a baseball game, so I just did the Seaton 6 at 6:40 pace.

Worth 50?

I was so underwhelmed by the Crystal City Twilighter 5k last year that I really didn't want to do it again. Then Jake started pulling this "good for the team" polemic while recruiting people to race year. I said I would if it wasn't 90+ degrees, figuring I had a way out with those terms.

While I was running in a slight chill in Portland, it became evident that the midwestern heat wave was going to be moving right over the Washington area by the early weekend, triggering my escape clause. The pure volume of running I did in Portland, 106.5 miles from Saturday to Friday, and the intensity inherent in each run -- extremely hilly for all but one run- the quarter workout Wednesday morning -- also gave me an excuse not to race. My heat acclimation I had so painfully acquired was wearing off quickly. I wasn't going to "race," but as long as the race was on, I was running.

I attribute this apparent irrationality to my office's wellness program. I ignored it for a few months, until earlier in July when the results from June's segment came in. I checked out the original e-mail and got a little more motivated to participate:

"The top 3 employees with the most points earned at the end of October will win one of three grand prizes. Grand prizes will include 6 months of free health insurance premiums (employee only), and cash prizes up to $500!!!"

I looked at the criteria for the different activities and noticed a great option- take 10,000 steps. I e-mailed the coordinator to ask if a. running counted and b. that was a renewable point source. She affirmed both. I had to get my hands on a pedometer, but that evening I counted my steps in the first mile- around 1300. If I run 100 miles a week, that's 130,000 steps right there,worth 130 points, about 520 points a month.

I just have to be in the top three to earn a grand prize, but I am not here to finish in the top three. To quote Jake Taylor in Major League "Well I guess there's only one thing left to do. Win the whole fucking thing..."

There are plenty of other sources of points, and the most delightful of all was "participate in a 5k: 50 points." That's worth 38 miles right there. So, regardless of the heat, I was participating in that race. Other options include keeping a fitness diary, making a recipe healthier, etc. For the most part, I don't even have to alter my behavior, though it did take me a week to get a pedometer, so I missed a week of earning points for a 100 mile week. But, I still walk more than a mile a day, and take more steps walking than when I run a mile, so that will add up, too.

On to the race: The WMATA trip planner suggested I take a bus to Alexandria and a train north to Crystal City, so I left with plenty of time to do that, unfortunately the bus I caught had not changed its marquee, so I spent a half hour going up the road to Tyson's Corner and back. Then another hour getting to Alexandria. I got the race with 10 minutes to spare, so no warmup beyond a few strides.

I was thinking of just jogging the race and earning the points, but that would kind of be a waste of an opportunity to run fast for a while. The course is as flat as it gets, albeit with the typical Pacers 180 turn. And it's only 5k, so I figured the best of use of my time, given the time I had spent getting there, was to run hard as long as I could until I just got too darn hot. I ran the first mile in the chase pack with Karl and Dutch Paul. We weren't too far off the leaders- 4:54 at the mile, just five seconds back.

When we passed the start/finish line about halfway in, the consequences started hitting me, and I dropped immediately. It was less humid than last year, but the heat (probably 95+) was still definitely getting to me. My head was starting to get painfully hot, and the cup of water I splashed on it barely made a difference. It was time to just finish, and there was no hanging on and gradually slowing, I came to pretty much a direct slowdown to jogging. I came through two miles in 10:25- 5:30, so not too bad of a deceleration, but it wasn't going to get any better. When we hit the 180, I was done, for all intents and purposes. Outlaw exhorted me to catch Wardian, a few steps ahead of me, but I demurred and just wanted to jog it in. Brandon ran by a few seconds after I resigned myself, and it would have been fun to finish with him, but I wasn't here to run fast, I was here for my 50 wellness points, a counter intuitive pursuit given the conditions, but hey, it's just 5k. I actually did hold a few people, including a high school runner, off before the finish, then I grabbed two bottles of water and doused myself. It was cold this year, a big improvement over last.

I did an easy 9 minute cooldown with Karl to take me well over 100 for the week ending that evening. 16:40 was actually 39 seconds faster than last year, but comparing the two years as if they were competent races conflates the issue- I got a good mile+ in and 50 points for the month. It's nice to think of it as an improvement, and I certainly am better in the heat this year, but you just can't empirically compare the two. It was a hard week of running, despite the favors the northwestern weather did for me, and it ended about as uncomfortably as I could have expected. I'm ready for an easy week to just get some mileage in the heat and work on my acclimation again.

HeadOn, apply directly where it sweats

As has been, and will be, a theme in my summer writing, it's hot, humid and uncomfortable for running. The favors the DC area did us in early June are now long expired, and the reality of a hot miserable few months is not going away. Cowering won't do me a bit of good, so I've been meeting this hot air head on.

I've survived to Friday, so I get a week in Portland, Oregon, and there's no better reward than that. Highs are at least 20 degrees cooler, and it's a change of scenery. Talking to Steve about the trip he said I'll just start hammering those mountain trails there because you can get into such a groove- I can't wait to get that groove.

I still can't believe how much I enjoyed last year's trip to Reno, all of those pre-dawn runs in such a strange place- half of that city looked like it was hiding from someone. Or in bankruptcy. This will be better in that it won't be completely arid and dusty, and Oregon is by far a much more running-friendly place.

Last week-

Tuesday evening I did an easy 3.5 miles on the treadmill.

Wedesday did a morning Fisherman's 3.25, then in the afternoon did the GRC track workout- 5x1200m. 3:44, 3:43, 3:42, 3:41, then my sweating caught up to me after a 71 second lap on my last one- my legs stopped responding with the turnover I needed. I took a lap off then ran another 71 with everyone else.

Thursday, another morning Fisherman's 3.25, then a 26th street in the evening.

Friday morning, an Idylwood extension for five miles, then a 6.5 mile truncated Westmoreland in the afternoon.

Saturday morning I went to the store, but nobody else showed up, so without anyone to complain, I ran up Wisconsin, around Chevy Chase, then back down. In the evening I did yet another Fisherman's loop to close out the week at 95 miles.

Sunday morning started early with a message from Tex that we did not have a ride to Riley's Lock for the long run. I slept in a bit then ran a loop in Annandale that I had done before, but shortly before I crossed Annandale Road, I missed a turn and wound up winging it for a while. I had some gradually-melting ice in my water bottle, so I was able to take sips when I needed. Trying to do a long run was a losing proposition, though, with the heat being what it was, so I decided to run 13 and if I was up for it, do another 7 closer to home. When I got back to my apartment to get more water, I decided I had run enough and relaxed. I went out later to run seven, doing so down to Arlington Boulevard and running a mile in 4:58, despite the 90 degree heat, then squishing my way home.

Monday I did another Fisherman's loop, which is pretty much my go-to morning run. In the evening, after a protracted haircut, I went out for another 10, out to Vienna and back on the W&OD trail, a route cooled significantly by winds from a thunderstorm to the east, which also treated me to some cool lightning in the distance as I was running back. It seemed a little counter intuitive, running toward the storm, but it was far enough away that it didn't matter.

Tuesday morning I slept in and didn't run in the morning, then headed out to Rosemary Street to do 6x 2/3 mile. I wanted to start them slow, and I thought I was relaxed, but i ran the first two in 3:22 and 3:23, 5:00 pace being 3:21. It was 95 degrees and when I started my third, I just gradually slowed after a minute and stopped two minutes in, then ran a longish cooldown. I should have stuck to a loop with intermediate splits, like the Greenwich mile, because I had no idea where I was on Rosemary if I wasn't at the start or finish.

Wednesday I got up and ran an Oak loop at 7:00 pace, stopping three times to completely wring out my shirt. I lost nine pounds over those 10 miles. That afternoon I did an easy three miles on the treadmill, liking none of it.

Photo by Skip Williams

Thursday was my day off, and I slept in a bit and was delighted to see temperatures in the low 70s with low humidity. Outside it was a friggin' blessing after the previous, well, almost a month. My right hip had been a little sore, perhaps I had been running on the side of the road too much, so I figured soft trails were the best remedy. I went to the Pimmit Run Trail and made it out to Langley High School, then came back. On my way out, I slipped on some mud easing down to cross a creek and tore my left index finger open on some thorns, so I had to spend the next 70 minutes squeezing that finger, and generally the entire hand, into a fist to stop the bleeding. It was so nice that I could have kept going, aside from some vicious thirst, because I didn't stop at the Potomac School's water fountain. About 13.5 miles in 100 minutes- I like that there are enough obstacles that the trail keeps me from hammering, because I needed an easy day to just run. I did a Fisherman's in the afternoon, and am ready to enjoy a slightly chilly week in Oregon.

The heat is back

I had been tired most of last week, but I managed to force myself to get up and do six miles before work Wednesday, though it was pretty humid. I just did the Park look, the first time I had run it without the Van Buren and Buxton addition in a long time.

The evening workout had a lot of promise, Karl was planning 4xmile at 5:00 pace, which was just what I wanted to do. He wasn't ready for the first one, though, and so I did a mile with the group that was planning shorter reps after a first mile. I lead that one exactly, then prepared for life on my own for the rest, because Karl's stomach was not ready to go. I let the 2:25 800 group go ahead, and I followed at a safe distance, running 4:59.

The third one, though, felt a little wobbly, and I cut it after a 2:30 half. Bryan, reeling a bit from his first group workout in quite some time, offered to run with me through half, so we did so, also in 2:30, but a few steps later I was feeling like crud and stopped.

Thursday morning, I awoke to temperatures in the low 60s with scant humidity. I decided to take this opportunity to do a medium long run- a Double Pimmit- a summer evening favorite of mine last year, because it gave me an opportunity to drop water off a 1.5 and get it again at 8, with a trash can at 9. It was an outstanding morning for running, but as I climbed part of Idylwood Road the circumstances conspired against me. The shoulder is pretty limited, so I crossed some grass onto the sidewalk up the hill. A woman ahead of me was walking dogs, so I called ahead to her to let her know I was coming. As I approached, one of the three Maltese dogs darted in front of me, and I lept to avoid it, though it then moved beneath me, so I tried not to land on it, either. Instead, I landed on the edge of my right foot, spraining the ankle, and landing sideways on the sidewalk and grass, then rolling down the hill into the street, which was luckily not occupied by an automobile. The woman repeatedly asked if I was okay and did not accept that I needed to test my ankle to see if I was indeed alright, her stupid little TOWLs barking the whole time. Once I confirmed that the ankle wasn't broken (which she smart-assedly chimed in about), I tried walking, with a bit of pain, but I was unsure if whether I could run.

I limped off to a nearby stump to stretch everything out, and the woman walked up and mentioned that her husband ran on a track, and suggested I do the same. I demurred, telling her my volume running would make the track more unbearable that it already is. She then said I should run on bike trails, and I resisted the urge to tell her what unbearable dicks bicyclists typically are. She then scolded me, telling me sidewalks are for walking, and it kills me that I didn't retort that she should keep her dogs in a dog park. After a while, I was able to jog back home, but I cut off the second loop of the run.

I then ran with Will from Logan Circle that evening, and my ankle felt fine, though sore and weak.

I have no recollection of what I ran Friday morning, something about nine miles. In the afternoon, I did an easy Fisherman's loop, in preparation for pacing a 5k time trial the next morning.

Dickson picked me up at 6:30 and we headed to B-CC. We didn't know who was actually showing up to run, but since we were up, it was worth it to find out. We were joined by Jason Myers, Matt Logan, Dutch Paul and Murph, though Tex, Outlaw, Wiggy and Big City were on hand to watch. I was to take the group through 4k at 5:00 pace, something I had done well for Jake at the Race for Hope. It was in the mid 60s, but humid, and the sun was beating down pretty directly. Murph was shooting for 74s, so I let him go ahead, but I did a solid job with the first mile, coming in a little fast at 4:58. After another lap in 75, though, I was not feeling up to it anymore. Dutch Paul took over and Tex joined the party to help pacing, and I was out. I had never gone from feeling comfortable to being completely overtaxed in such a hurry. Thankfully the Pauls had everything under control, but I felt bad to be unable to pace. Granted the conditions were more adverse than a chilly morning in early May, and I was no longer training for a 5k, but I was still disappointed. The pack broke apart soon after, and I jumped in for a few laps to give Logan someone with whom to work. Murph dropped a lap after I did, and the time trail group was Tex leading Jason, with Dickson a few seconds behind and Logan behind him. Jason was looking strong, though, and came through 5k in 15:43, a big PR and his first sub 16. Meanwhile, I completely died on the cooldown. After a nap, I did a three-mile Fisherman's in 6:00 pace.

I wanted to do a long run Sunday morning, but I feared the humidity would bedevil me for 19 miles, so I repeated the Double Pimmit, with a frozen bottle of berry rain Gatorade waiting for me at mile 8. My shoes were squishing by the middle of the fourth mile, but I knew I wasn't going to break down any barriers by shying away from discomfort. I kept pushing, got my reward drink, and tried to keep pushing toward the end of the run, feeling particularly strong on my two loops of Pinecastle, even when holding a half-full bottle. I ended up averaging 6:49 pace for 13.1 miles.

After a nap and some more time off my feet, I went out for a ridiculously hot six miles on the Seaton loop. I came through three miles at 21:00, and then almost after, I felt a gust of cold wind hit me. I passed a couple of dudes cooking in their yard, listening to Ramble On, a favorite of mine. A few seconds later, all hell broke loose from the sky and rain began pelting me like crazy, and I loved it. My pace dropped ridiculously to 6:00s as I tore through the storm, again not caring that I was drenched and running with figurative sponges in my shoes, I just cared about how I could move ahead efficiently. I logically ended up averaging 6:30s for those six miles.

Monday morning I went out to run for time on the Pimmit Run Creek Trail. I spent about 100 minutes, and ran out to Georgetown Pike. About 35 minutes in, I stepped in some mud, which coated my foot and ankle completely, but I just went about my business.

Tuesday I got to work early and ran to Hains Point for the first time since the By George 5k. Unfortunately, this time there was no wind whatsoever, but seven miles in I ran into Matt Logan, and he accompanied me for a little more than two miles, a godsend.

Let's fill a bathtub full of sweat

I sweat profusely.

I will support that statement with a lot of evidence from recent attempts to run in the DC summer, which began Monday.

Monday evening was relatively dry, though pretty hot- in the mid 80s, but I figured I might as well try a long run, because in addition to being sweaty, I'm also stupid. I did, however, put Gatorade mix, as many ice cubes as I could fit, and a little bit of ice water into a plastic bottle and carried it with me on an Irvin loop, dropping it off at four miles, which I hit in 25:00. I then kept going, thinking I was loosening up slowing down. Evidently not, because I hit seven miles averaging 6:10 pace. I got a little cautious here and slowed, partially because the .9 mile stretch on Maple Street in Vienna is on crowded sidewalks. I came through 10 miles at 6:15 pace exactly, then eased up again on the climbs on Old Courthouse Road. Wolftrap Road, usually, a struggle for me, was very doable, and I felt stronger coming out of the short trail that connects two parts of the road than I ever had before on this particular loop. A block later I had my chilled Gatorade, and managed to drink most of the 32 oz of it without feeling sick to my stomach. This is a dramatic improvement from when Howard first encouraged me to practice doing that last fall. He said my body would get used to it, and by god, it did. Even though I just had the fluids for the last 3.5 miles, being well hydrated helped my recovery immensely. I ended up averaging 6:20 miles for 16, which was my longest run in two months, since the extended Brook the day after the George Mason race.

Tuesday did not go as well. I slept in to recover from the long run, then when I got home from work headed out for an easy 8-12. I figured the best way to keep it easy was to stick to the Pimmit Creek trails, but about three miles in, the lack of air movement and the humdity really got to me, and I headed back, getting only six.

Wednesday was the first time I went to the BCC since right after the Swarthmore meet. The plan was 8x800, with two at 2:32, 2:30, 2:28 and 2:26, respectively.

I was quite surprised to have no trouble running 2:31, 2:30, 2:27, 2:28, 2:26 and 2:27. After the third, however, it sounded as though I had stuffed sponges into my shoes.

A few steps into the seventh 800, I recognized I was running on borrowed energy and stopped. I was actually too loose to hope to succeed, and I had lost too much sweat to pull myself together effectively. My limbs were feeling a little loose, for lack of a more apt description, and moving them at a cadence appropriate for running 800s took more energy than I though prudent to dedicate. I was happy enough I had done six, though eight would have been even better, my marginal delight for each of those additional intervals was not worth it...yet...

Thursday morning, I ran the Park Plus, which I had neglected for a long time, and had a pretty fun time. I ditched the mp3 player, which I think makes a big difference in the heat and humidity. I am more attuned to my other senses and never get in over my head, which I sometimes attribute to being distracted by listening to something. And it kept me from inadvertently shorting it out with sweat. In the evening, I made up a loop taking 26th street to Marymount and coming back on Old Dominion and Little Falls.

Friday I slept in and planned to reintroduce myself to the treadmill in the afternoon, but it was 88 degrees and pretty dry, so decided I should go out and use the opportunity to acclimate myself further to the heat. I ran six miles out past Catholic and decided to run at a moderate pace as long as I could, and managed 5:20 pace for 17 minutes, a but more than 5k.

Saturday morning I finally wore my Chicago Marathon shirt, which really is quite nice, very thin, but the memory of the race and my poor performance made me hesitant to wear it too much. I did a morning run of nine miles on my New Virginia Manor loop, then an afternoon run of seven miles on my Timber loop to total 85 miles.

Sunday morning I just wandered along the trails following the Pimmit Stream for 90 minutes.

Monday I just ran in the evening- 11.5 miles as part of a Fairview Park loop.

Tuesday morning I did a five-mile Idylwood loop and in the afternoon finally reacquainted myself with the treadmill in my office basement. I absolutely hate it, but the reality is that given how much I sweat and the consistently formidable humidity in the DC area, I need to be ready to do a workout on the treadmill if going outside would be unproductive, so I bought a box fan to keep in my office to at least make the conditions reasonable in my office's fitness center and help me avoid disgusting anyone else with a lot of sweat flying off of me. I did eight miles while watching the middle of Jerry Maguire and an interview with Dennis Kucinich.

Northwest Side

I came back to Pittsburgh two weeks after Memorial Day to do some volunteer work in Sheraden, and as timing would have it, run another race. A few months ago, my friend and former intern Jenni posed an open question- where would you do a service project with 350 people and $30,000? I immediately and factiously responded, "Fairywood,"then anywhere west of Duquesne Heights. Kevin Acklin then put together 12 great projects that community organizations have targeted and Renew Pittsburgh put some plans together for Deloitte to unleash its employees. I thought it would be fun to join in.

Here's the Post-Gazette's account.

I led the Sheraden swimming pool group, which painted over graffiti on an exterior wall and cleared thick overgrowth from the surrounding land. The pool had been closed for three or four years because an Army Corps of Engineers sewer project would have caused problems for the pool's water system, so entropy had made things a little thick. I didn't help myself by starting off recklessly, cutting clumps of weeds and tall grass with hedge shears. The problem was that I hadn't done any work like that for a long time, nor had I bent at some of the angles that the work required for an even longer time, so after an hour and a half, I started to hit the wall and reexamine my effort. It was hot, but not unbearable, and we made a lot of progress, right up until the downpour started. That boded well for the race conditions, I thought. Until the temperature rose again, and compounded the humidity from the rain. This is backwards!

By that point, the bus came along and took my volunteers away, so I got ready for the Riverview Park 5k.

I had wanted to do the race for a while, and Michelle helped me make that happen in 2009. I had biked to work that morning, 18 miles, when I was trying the one-day-a-week cross training plan, though it was more to see the part of the commute I usually skipped over on the bus. While at work, she told me the race was that night, at 7:30. I hurried to finish my work and get back home. Unfortunately, I had to stay past the time the bus left, so I had to bike back home. I did so frantically, and when I reached Highland Park, some jagoff in a convertible forced me into a parked car, beating the hell out of my right forearm. I got home, changed and got into Michelle's car. We sped from Shadyside to Observatory Hill hastily, but her directions neglected one detail, three details, rather, downtown would be bustling with a Pirates game, the gay pride parade and the Three Rivers Arts Festival. Our comfortable margin for travel compressed dramatically, but somehow we got to the course with three minutes to spare, while a young man was slowly singing the national anthem. I sprinted to the start with a check for our race numbers, telling the race director we would fill out the forms later. I got the numbers, but Michelle was nowhere to be found.

Suffice it to say, when the gun went off, I was ready to go.

I ran the whole race alone and won with about 35 seconds to spare. Michelle ended up not racing and the race director tore up my check because my "wife didn't get to run." A few hours later, the Penguins won game seven of the Stanley Cup finals.

This year I was able to calmly walk up to the RD and ask him "is it too late for me to register?"

He took a look at me and said "I think you're okay this year."

I was able to get a warmup in and see the Hounds who made it- Matt Meurer, Greg Byrnes, Brandon G and Steve Kirkland, previously known as Bradford Mike. Matt and Greg both live on the Northside and Brandon lives in the northern suburbs, so the three of them have put together the "Nor'side" gang and made Steve, who lives in Greenfield, an honorary member.

I got out quickly and hesitated for a second, partially to avoid going out too hard and more because I wanted to run with the guys for a while. When nobody joined me, I figured the real race had begun and it was up to me to make it. A little more than a quarter mile into the course I took a turn up the long driveway to the observatory.

The hill really broke my spirit and my pace early on, but I figured I would be better off extending my lead before we headed downhill, where I never feel secure. I never had a natural chance to see who was behind me, so I took off down the hill. I was pretty damned hot, and the humidity was great enough that nothing was evaporating. I threw some water on my face and that woke me up a little, but it was safe to say my pace down the hill was not as reckless as the hill would suggest. The course is a loop with no net elevation change, so I was mindful that every step down the hill would come back in the third mile.

That's the problem with hills, they're just like the wind. The advantage from a tailwind does not equal the disadvantage from a headwind, and you don't gain the speed on a downhill you lose on an uphill, ceteris paribus. Throw in the downhill first, and there's the temptation enjoy the hill too much and not have enough left to climb again. This was a major problem for this course.

Brandon G was on my tail for a while, and he said I was at about 10:03 at two miles. I charged up the hill and heard one woman say "You're winning!" No shit. By how much, though? Help me out here, sister. The suspense was killing me, because it the haze of the heat, I wasn't sure if the steps I heard were my own, and I severely doubted my ability to fight back if Brandon, Steve or Greg passed me. My dive at the Kevin Gatons race, not two weeks before, hung over me.

I kept climbing, now under glorious shade. That's the point where you realize how gorgeous the course is, and what a shame it is to be in such discomfort. I did get a look around a tight turn and saw nobody behind me for quite some time, so I eased up. The uphill only stops about 100m from the finish, and I just cruised in in 16:48.

I really enjoy the race, it's one of my ideal road races. The early registration price is $12. The day of the race, you can get in for $15. The course is tough but representative of the area, and the Friday night race time is unique where weekend morning starts are the norm. And, it's hard. Each time I've raced it, I've come in with a major physical deficit- either the long bike rides and frantic preceding half hour or the day of manual labor, and I've ended up trailing for one second out of a little less than 34 combined minutes of racing. I've been shocked to win both times, but maybe it's something about the overall race that spurs me to overlook those circumstances. I've run a lot of road races, and you don't find that at every one.

All aboard the big metal priest

I am heading down to Richmond for the alumni race on the Amtrak train shortly, which I dub the "big metal priest," because Amtrak just molests me every time I get on board.

It is supposedly a few degrees cooler in Richmond, and I could use that.

Wednesday's workout went about as well as I expected. The heat affected me more in the recovery miles and it was over pretty quickly. I went through the first (easy) mile in 6:00, just as I did two weeks prior, but I was already hurting. I started the first hard mile with very crisp form, which belied the hot, humid air. I ran the first one in 5:08, and felt solid, but the recovery didn't feel like much of one. I continued to heat up, and ran 6:35 for the mile.

I planned to chase Murph and Mike on the second one, but was dangerously close to catching them within the first quarter mile, so I dropped back and

came after them again in the second half, but I wasn't accelerating like I could earlier in the mile. I finished and took a long time grabbing water, and a few minutes into a very slow fifth mile, I decided to cut the intervals in half and run half miles. I turned around and had at it, but something was wrong. I was running well, ending up with a 2:32, but I had no friggin clue where I was. It had gotten dark, and all I knew was that the trail ahead was clear. I finished it and just chilled out with Dan and Jimmy (who quit his job at the Discovery Channel a week before that day's hostage taking). I knew going in it wasn't going to be an ideal workout, so I didn't assign much import to the results. I got a good first mile in, at least.

I got home at 10:30, and it took me a long time to fall asleep, so I wasn't up for a medium long run in the morning. I did five miles on a Greenwich-reverse Fisherman's, then came home and ran out to Vienna on the W&OD (at 6:40 pace, I learned, after the fact), then came home on Gallows Road. In 13 miles, I lost 11 pounds. Yikes.

Friday morning, I ran a miserable 6.5 miles on a Pimmit Hills loop. 7:45 pace. I sleep horribly.

I am going to do a small-town marathon with my high school buddies Evan, Nate and Pokey in the next few years, and I am looking forward to it, mostly to the relaxed atmosphere and chance to chill out. This is maybe two years down the road, when we're all 30.

When I arrive in Richmond I will shake the trip out with a 5.5 mile run around campus, then hopefully some Mary Angela's pizza with the guys. I'm staying with Lauder and Molz, definitely Fatty Z, and I assume Hunter, Garrett, and I'm not sure who else. I think there are either seven guests or seven people total. Then, I'll get my first race in since the Run for Roch. It's odd that I didn't race at all in August, but I did the best month of training in my life, so missing a few 5ks doesn't bother me that much. I'm excited to race with a few of my college teammates, even though we won't be slaughtered by the immensely talented, young and well-trained Richmond top seven. Then, breakfast at the dining hall, an afternoon run, and a party at the Hannays.