Get Mad (a little) but Mostly Just Get Even

The title here, a bit tongue-in-cheek, is my motto if not an outright battle cry for coming back from an injury. I had a lot of time to think about that in my 2016 rehab and comeback.

I fell on August 6 and had surgery about three weeks later. I could only hunker down for the first week, but got in a few short walks. Hobbled around in one of those big super slings with the hefty arm pad. I got on the exercise bike at the fitness center within a few days and started out with 20 minutes a day, was up to 45 to 60 minutes within no time, and after two weeks I added 30 minute walks a few times a week. In late September I got clearance to start up on the eliptical trainer (hand free of course).

The big break came in early October when they said I could start running easy a few days a week. I ran outside a couple times but was told to stay on the treadmill, and for the most part I did that. Felt great to be back running again. Through October and November of that year averaged about an hour a day of cross training and running, thinking a lot about what I wanted to accomplish in 2017.

In the meantime we moved from 5,500 feet elevation in suburban Denver, into to the foothills at over 7,000 feet. This has proven to be a big bonus. A little more hypoxia for 12-15 hours a day means more red blood cells and more oxygen carrying ability. This, along with the diet changes earlier in the year were two of the three factors that got me onto a track that have allowed me to reach levels I would not have dreamed of.

In December of 2016 I was up to 40 miles a week, following rehab routines to the T, and without the doctor’s approval jumped into a snowy 10K race with my son (was still supposed to be running indoors at this point). I ran that in 39 minutes, outkicked by my son.

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In first comeback race, Mikko takes down Dad with a half K to go. Shhhh. Don’t tell the doctor! 

I finally got full clearance from the doctor in early February. Ran a few low key local races as tune-ups, and had my sights set on a March New York Road Runners 10K in Central Park. In that race I started cautiously, not really knowing where my fitness was, but by 2 miles locked into a 5:50 pace, and finished in 36:08, my fastest 10K since 2009 (8 years) and 89.9% age grade (a PB). Three weeks later I ran the Platte River Half for the third year in a row and posted a 1:21, a course PB, and the next month a 2:58 at the Colorado Marathon, to win my age group and BQ by more than 55 minutes. And to cap off the comeback of 2017–in which I got more than even–we traveled back to Alaska following our son’s graduation from college. There, I ran the Midnight Sun run in 35:43 and for the first time ever nabbed an age grade of >90 percent. Comeback Mission Accomplished!

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September 2017, a new state half marathon record for 55-59 age group! 1:18:40.

To close out the year, I traveled to Tulsa and ran the USATF 15K masters championships, and ran 55:29 to place 3rd in the 55-59 age group and nab my first age group medal a bronze. Six weeks later, I returned to the Club Cross Country Championships in Lexington, KY in the biting winds and 20 degree temperatures placed 5th, bumping up three spots from my last outing in San Francisco two years earlier.

2016 had been a rough ride with some great times, but 2017 was better than I had dreamed of. In 2018 I would turn 60 and couldn’t help but look forward to that

Wait, Wait What Happened?

I started this blog in 2016, with just a couple posts. It was a year of some good running, but interspersed with a couple of health issues. Here is a run down from late 2015 to summer of 2016.

After ending 2015 with some decent efforts, a 1:21 half marathon in Washington and a relatively solid showing at the USATF masters championships in San Francisco, where I took 8th in my age group, I looked forward to 2016 with some high hopes. Although I had hoped to be top 5 in SF I was pretty happy to run sub 37 minutes on the course at Golden Gate Park and to finish near or ahead of some pretty good runners in my age group (I was 8th in the age group and 25th/415 in the age grade catergory). In the back of my mind, however, was the thought if I ate a really good diet and shed some pounds I could move up some.2016 Club Nationals

Start line at the 2015 USATF Masters 10K championship in San Francisco.

 

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Trying to finish strong at USATF Masters 10K XC on the way to a 36:54.

As the new year got rolling, however, I could not get on track. It was more difficult getting out the door. Long runs were a grind, and easy runs were almost painful. My whole body ached. And my workouts and races fell off from the previous year. I was running nearly a minute slower for 8K and 10K, and recovery between hard efforts dragged on for weeks instead of days. I was getting in the miles (55-60 miles a week), hadn’t gained any weight (150+/-) from previous years and felt that I was eating okay although knew there was some room for improvement.

The kicker came at the Platte River Half Marathon in April, a key spring race. I had run a 1:22 there the previous year–fastest 55-59 year old time in the race’s 15 year history. But in the 2016 race I felt somewhere between off and awful. Although I did win my age group again and was happy about that, the time was only 1:26. I could not figure out why I was training the same amount, doing similar workouts, but feeling fatigued every day.

I went to the doctor for a physical. Everything checked out okay, but they ordered a blood test. I thought it might be a Vitamin D deficiency, or maybe iron, or even testosterone. But who knew? A few days later I got a call from the physicians assistant who said that two things stood out, very high cholesterol (265) and a high A1C (3 month level of blood sugar) of 5.9, indicating that I was pre-diabetic. What?

They suggested that I go on statins right away, but also gave the option that I could try to work on my diet and get follow up test in about 6 weeks. So that’s what I did. I cut out weekly pizza and burger, processed lunch meats, near daily sesame bagels, and snack food like chocolate, cookies, chips. Instead I ate more nuts and fish, stuck to only egg whites, and gobbled up more whole grain food in place of processed wheat.

By 3 weeks I felt better, and at 6 weeks I got the 2nd blood test where the cholesterol had dropped a remarkable 60 mg to 205, and AIC fell a bit to 5.7. I felt good, and proceeded to win my age group at Bolder Boulder 10K with 38 minute 10K. It was about the same time as the year before, and I felt better than I had since the end of 2015. I had turned the corner.

The highlight of that year was a 12 day trip to Scandinavia, with a day and a half in Iceland and then 10 days in Norway and Sweden. I joined up with about 15 runners who had lived or were otherwise connected with Alaska to run the grueling 4 day St. Olavs Loppett (350 km, 170 miles) from Ostersund Sweden to Trondheim Norway. I raced about 24 miles (6 miles a day) and by the end, felt like I had run full marathon!

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With Tamara at Tannforsen Waterfall in central Sweden, 2016.

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Running an 8.3K leg in the St. Olavs Loppet, June 2016.

After recovering for a few weeks I started my prep for the Bellingham Bay Marathon, where my goal was a sub 2:55.

Prior to this week, August 2, 2016 was the last time I posted on this blog. I had planned to continue with stories of some of my early running days, interspersed with updates on running adventures. However just a few days later, on August 6, I had a freak fall while warming up for a 10 mile run. I tripped on a rock fell into a pile of other rocks on an old creek bed. The pain was immediate and searing. I could barely get up, and a passerby had to walk me 0.1 mile to a curb for Tamara to pick me up. I thought I had broken my collarbone figured I’d be out for 6 weeks or so while it healed. Actually it was a shoulder dislocation, resulting in a torn rotator cuff and torn labrum. I would need surgery and 6 months of rehab.

So that fall, I stayed home devastated.

Young American Runners: The Mid 1970s

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1974 and 1975: The Groundwork

Looking back a bit, 1974 or 1975 were the years that I could have, should have started running. I was in my mid-teens and while my growth into adolescence had been slow, I was growing. I’d go for a run of a few miles here and there, in the summer of 1974, but not more than once a week. Nevertheless, I did keep active by playing pick up basketball, some pretty aggressive touch football, and going out for solo bike rides around town.

School continued to get better, and I started making friends again. Kids that I hadn’t gotten along with so well in the previous year or two seemed to come around and include more in conversation and goofing around at school, as well as for weekend or evening basketball games at the gym.

I didn’t think a lot about track or running, and didn’t even bother to go out for the team my junior year. But I managed to summon the courage to do a 6 day ski trip with friends over spring break, my first trip out of state in a year and a half. I almost didn’t go because of anxiety attacks leading up to our departure and I lost a couple nights of sleep before we actually got there. But I pulled it together and ended up having a good trip.

That spring a guy named Bill Rodgers won the Boston Marathon in a blazing 2:09:55, at 4:57 per mile for 26.2 miles. That got my attention, and I read several news reports in the papers and in Sports Illustrated. I started running a little, and I still had that vaulting pole, so on evenings and weekends I’d go to the university and do a little jumping on my own. My vaulter neighbor friend was a varsity jumper by then, so I was on my own. I never really learned how to bend the pole, I didn’t have the upper body strength, nor probably the coordination to hang and let that thing fling me over the bar. Nevertheless, I hung out at the track and practiced some, plus I watched a few college meets, including one that had several future stars who would make an impact on the roads and track in future years (names like Bjorkland, Meyer, Durkin, and Byers).

A few days after school got out I entered a local all-comers meet where I did my last vaulting. I cleared 10 feet for the first time, and even got a ribbon for the effort. And I long jumped 17’3″, keeping up with my history of adding about a foot a year.

Just as my parents and I were preparing for a trip to the East Coast, where my dad had a conference and to visit relatives, I read a small article in the local paper saying that Oregon runner, US record holder at 2K 3K, 5K, 10K, Steve Prefontaine, had died in a car crash in Oregon. I knew of Pre, but up to that point had at best been a casual fan of the sport, but that news was devastating because he had been so young and so talented. I couldn’t believe it, and it was almost as if he had been someone I’d known at school. So we traveled for a couple days, and that weighed heavily in my mind.

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We spent our first week in Boston, at MIT. I ran almost every day along the Charles River and even counted the Smoots on the bridge. I wonder if they still measure that bridge in Smoots. And then another week or 10 days in New York, visiting my ailing grandparents. I there several times, at least every other day. It was great, and I sort of kicked around going out for cross country in the fall. But we returned to the muggy and hot Midwest, and the frequent runs sort of fell off the wayside. I dabbled in a little part time work on some farmland, did a bit of hack golfing and a fair amount of pick up basketball. Running fell off to a couple times a month.

School started and a couple friends decided to start a soccer club. It was pretty informal, we didn’t have coaches or sponsors or any school backing, but we’d scrimmage behind the school or at the university a couple times a week. I was average to below average on the team. Several of the guys ran cross country and they’d come back with tales of meets, but I didn’t think I was missing much. In the winter I played city league basketball and a lot of pick up games at the gym. I was sort of a gym rat, not much talent but I enjoyed the time with friends and of course the activity.

1976 – The Olympics and The Watershed

By my last year in high school I had finally shed most of that anxiety issues, had become a decent student, and I continued to grow slowly. I was about 5’8″ and 130 lbs by the last half of the school year. I was pretty fit for a non-athlete, and even went to the indoor track a few times over the winter to go run a few miles. I recall doing 3 miles in under 19 minutes, in a progression run and feeling pretty good about that. For about a minute. Then I recalled that just a few years earlier high school runner Craig Virgin had gone under 14 minutes for 3 miles.

About a week or two before the season started, I decided to go out for track. I went in and filled out the forms, but only had vague notion of what my goals were (that was part of the sign up). I felt that I was done with vaulting but thought I could long jump and maybe run. But I had no idea at what. I knew I wasn’t fast enough to score varsity points in the sprints (figuring you’d need to go under well 11 for the 100 yard dash, 23 for the 220, or about 52 or 53 for the 440–to even have a shot as the 4th guy on a relay), and no background or much indication of endurance needed to be a distance runner.

I went to practice that first day in late February and we did a mile for warm up, and some pretty intense drills for about 20 or 30 minutes, followed by a light session of speed work in the school’s parking lot. I went home feeling pretty discouraged and out of place. I didn’t think I’d have anything to contribute to the team, so it would it would have just been a waste of time. So I walked into the coach’s office the next day and told him that I wouldn’t be continuing. The coach, a former All-American sprinter, tried to talk me out of it. He actually looked genuinely hurt, and he showed concern that I wasn’t willing to give it a go. I didn’t get where he was coming from.  My mind was pretty made up, and just wanted to wrap up high school and get ready for college.

I felt bad. Felt guilty. But looked forward to my last quarter of high school.

I signed up for spring classes about a week later and took a light load because I had the credits. Gym was still a requirement, but I found that I could contract out of gym by choosing another activity. So I approached the same coach and asked if I could run three times a week for 20 to 30 minutes at a time, instead of taking gym. He was cool about it and was encouraging.

So off I went! I kept a little handwritten log on some blank typing paper and reported to the coach every month. I’d run after school some days, after dinner, and even at 9 or 10 at night that spring. And once in a while some friends joined up. It was the easiest, most fun gym class experience I’d had. I would do at least 25 or 30 minutes and up to about 40 minutes, and sometimes I’d run four or even five times. It felt good, and I found that I felt better for the next day.

That year the school’s track team had its best season ever. Several of my friends place high at the state meet and a bunch of school records were broken. I also started following track a little bit more. Reading Kenny Moore’s articles on the marathon in Sports Illustrated, reading about results in the NCAA and AAU circuit as the Olympics approached. And then my first geek out track experience since 5th or 6th grade, I went to a friend’s place to watch a couple nights of the Olympic Trials. I was really inspired by the intermediate hurdlers, Ralph Mann, Nolan Cromwell, Mike Shine, and this new guy just a couple years older than me, Edwin Moses.

Just after graduation they had that local all-comer’s meet that I had done the previous year, so I decide to enter. I did the 120 yard high hurdles, 100 yard dash, 220, and long jump.

Jesse Owens I was not. I didn’t crash but got last or 2nd to last in the hurdles. I don’t remember the time but probably about 19 seconds. My friend won in the 15s. Next up was the 100 yard. The fastest girl from our school and a finalist at state was in our heat. She dusted me. I ran about 11.6, she was 11.4. My friend the hurdler shook his head, as if to say, good thing you didn’t stay on the team. I did a little better in the long jump, and went 18’1″. I was pretty happy with that. And in the 220 I ran in the 2nd heat, and about 26.0 just ahead of that girl from our school. So a little bit of redemption.

After school ended kept running and going to weekly all-comer meets in town. I got my 220 down to 25.5 and maybe knocked 0.1 in the 100, and I knew I didn’t quite have that sprint speed. So inspired by my high school friends and the Olympic Trials I gave the 440 a try. OMG that was painful. I think I went out in about 26 and finished in 56. But I was hooked. My high school coach, the one I disappointed at the beginning of the season by quitting, happened by and said “wish I could have had you on the team this year, we would have you running 53 by now!” I was heading to a small college and decided that I’d give track a try the next year. I even tried a couple time trials at longer distances. These were not much, but I managed a 2:25 880, 5:30 mile, and 12:00 2 mile. I think in each case I went out too fast, but also didn’t have the endurance to hold a modest pace, so I figured that I’d still go for the 440 next year.

I ran semi-regularly through the summer, keeping up the three times a week, and onto my new college campus. By the first week the cross country coach stopped me and asked how much running I had done (not much, but I enjoyed it), and would I want to join the team this year? No, I’m not a distance guy and don’t they do like 10 miles a day and 15 on weekend long runs?

I dabbled in intramurals and pick up sports and kept running for about a month into college until I broke my toe playing barefoot touch football. Then I had the crazy idea to try out for the basketball team. They hadn’t won many games and I thought I was okay at pick up basketball. But I was among the first three or four to get cut at the end of the first week. So ego bruised but toe healed I started running again. One afternoon I jogged a mile or so and ran the campus 4 mile XC course and ran 24:50, so I was pretty happy to run 6:12 pace for 4 miles without being pushed.

About that time, Bill Rodgers beat Frank Shorter in the New York City Marathon, the first time they ran through all five boroughs, and that was all over the news for weeks. The popularity of running had grown exponentially in just a couple of years and mass marathon boom had just begun. Over break I went home and continued running and upped it a bit. Maybe going 15 miles a week and doing some hills and stair climbs once a week. I was going to run college track.