If you’re running a fall marathon, this is the absolute worst time of the year. You’re probably dealing with high temperatures, sopping humidity or both. The physical conditions are bad, sure, but even worse is the mental drain. Even for beginners, some of the midweek runs are edging into double digits, and the longest run of the week is nearing three hours. But there’s one particular kind of long run that really drags me down and makes me question why I do this. I call it the “No Man’s Land” run.
A No Man’s Land run is anything in the 16- to 19-mile range. That’s just a God-awful distance that I’d rather skip altogether. What’s so bad about 16-19?
For starters, there are no milestones. At 13, you can run a half-marathon (as long as you don’t mind tacking on an extra tenth of a mile). Fifteen gives you a nice solid number, a number you can count on both hands and one black-toed foot. If you need a race to test your marathon pace or just to give you an interim goal leading up to the “big dance,” you can find the occasional 15-mile race – or the equally well-rounded and metrically equivalent 25K.
Of course, the Big Kahuna of most marathon training plans is the 20 miler. Ahhhh, just look at how pretty that number is. 20. Twenty. 2-Oh. That’s a biggie, a solid milestone you can rally around (and toward). When you hit 20, you’ve fully engaged all the digits on your sun-tanned hands and blistered feet.
But 16? That’s adding a stinkin’ 5K onto a half-marathon. Who wants to do that? As its only defense, I will grant that 16 is, at the very least, an even number. Call me “evenist” if you like, but I am prejudiced against odd numbers. I admit it. So sue me.
Which brings me to 17. There are, quite simply, no redeeming qualities to a 17-mile run. If you see “17″ on your training plan, you can bet it’s gonna suck. When you finish, you’re going to be tired, hungry, drained, and you’ll be asking yourself questions like:
“Why the hell am I doing this?”
“When the &*#@ is this all going to be over?”
“If I go directly to the pancake house, will they kick me out for smelling so bad?”
Eighteen miles is almost tolerable, but only because it’s even. Aside from that, screw 18! Then there’s 19. Oh ho, yes, 19. Nineteen is the dry hump of running: it requires nearly all of the physical energy and mental investment as 20, but delivers none of the sweet eyes-rolling-up-in-your-head release.
When you come to 19 on your schedule, cast caution aside and go for the full climax of 20. Seriously. Just skip over 19. All it’ll cost you is another, what … 9, 10, 12 minutes? Maybe 15 if you’re a true turtle. If you’ve already been out there for 3 hours or more, that’s nothing. When you hit that 20 mile mark and your eyes roll up in your head and you moan, “Ohh, GAWD!” you’ll thank me.
The world of sports is full of superstitions, one of the more popular ones is the Sports Illustrated cover jinx: a myth that states that individuals or teams who appear on the cover of the magazine will subsequently be jinxed. Some examples:
May 26, 1958: Race car driver Pat O’Connor appears on the cover. He dies four days later on the first lap of the Indianapolis 500.
August 7, 1978: Pete Rose appears on the cover the same week that his 44-game hitting streak ended.
October 11, 2003: In the midst of each league’s respective League Championship Series, both the Chicago Cubs and Boston Red Sox were featured on dual covers to that week’s issue. Both teams would go on to suffer great collapses.
In January 2010, Brett Favre was on the cover with the headline “Favre on Fire” before the NFC Championship Game, which the Vikings lost (and there was much rejoicing in Chicago and Green Bay).
Why am I talking about the SI jinx here? Because I may have fallen victim to a less well known cousin, the RunnerDude Hex. Last Sunday, I was to be the “Runner of the Week” on the RunnerDude’s blog. Coincidentally, that was the day of the Rock ‘n Roll Chicago Half Marathon, which I ran with Brian R.
The race went well enough — with some urging along from me, Brian bettered his half-marathon personal record by 10 minutes! But since this was a “long run” weekend for me as I prepare for two fall marathons, my coach wanted me to add 5-7 extra miles. The insanely early 6:30 a.m. start time made it nearly impossible to squeeze in miles beforehand, so I opted to tack them off after the race.
Perhaps I should have run them immediately after we finished, but I was having a great time at the American Cancer Society DetermiNation tent and talking with friends I’ve met on Twitter, that I delayed the “bonus miles” till I got home. I didn’t think this would be any big deal for a few reasons:
The half-marathon wasn’t that strenuous for me since the pace Brian and I ran was nearly 3 1/2 minutes per mile slower than my recent PR.
I was planning on running the bonus miles at a slow, gentle pace.
I’ve run “ultramarathon” relays where I had to stop and restart three to five times in less than 24 hours.
Back home, about three hours after finishing the 13.1 mile race, I headed out the door on a five-mile loop. Both of my Achilles were tight, but that’s nothing new. I’ve been trying to stretch them out for months to no avail. About three miles through my gentle jog, I had a sudden pain at the base of my right calf, like someone snuck up from behind and punched me with brass knuckles. I stopped and massaged it for several minutes, then began a slow walk-jog cycle to cover the remaining two miles back home.
Jog two blocks, walk two. Jog, walk, jog, walk. After 1.5 miles of this, in the middle of a walking segment, the sucker punch came again. Harder. Now just four blocks from home, I wished I had my cell phone so I could call and have someone pick me up. The pain was just shy of excruciating. I couldn’t flex my foot at all, which meant I couldn’t “toe off” to take a step. The next half-mile took 20 minutes as I gingerly walked with a flat right foot. Once home, I did the RICE method (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) as much as possible.
The next day, Monday, I awoke to find the leg was slightly swollen but feeling better. I pulled on my CEP compression sleeves and headed to work. (Yeah, I’m not too smart.) As the day wore on, my leg didn’t feel that bad – I’d call it 75% of “normal.” But when I got home and took off the compression sleeves, the swelling was a bit worse. No doubt some of that was because of the compression, but still, there was no denying something was still wrong.
At 8:05 this morning, just after the doctor’s office opened, I called to make an appointment. I have big races and big plans this fall. Better to find out exactly what’s wrong and how to treat it than to take the easy “aw, it’ll be fine in a few days” approach.
Of course, I don’t really think there’s a RunnerDude Hex. On the contrary, I’m very honored to be the Runner of the Week. I’m eager to get healed so I can go back to earning the honor.
Remember when you were in school and the first assignment your English teacher gave was to write an essay titled “What I Did on My Summer Vacation”? You hated it, right? Here’s a shocker – so did your teacher. I know, because I was an English teacher.
As a student, I hated writing them because it seemed like I hadn’t done anything! My family were farmers, so summer meant, well, farming. I played baseball too, but for the most part, every summer was pretty much like the one before. I longed to try more things!
As a teacher, I hated reading the essays because most of them were so poorly written. Comma splices, run-on sentences, subject not agreeing with verbs – in short, those papers were riddled with all manner of crappy grammar, spelling and punctuation. So why did I give that assignment? Even though they represented a huge challenge, those papers taught me a lot. They exposed all the areas of weakness and showed what simply needed some tweaks.
My long training run this weekend brought back memories of that old standby assignment.
Ever since I was able to have some level of control over my life, I’ve tried to look at summers from both my student and teacher side. From the student side, I’ve made it a mission to try something new during the summer: playing harmonica, visiting Mexico, competing in triathlons (since retired but thinking of pulling a “Michael Jordan” next year). And from the teacher viewpoint, I’ve looked objectively at what needs a major overhaul and what needs tweaking.
My 16-mile run Saturday was both an opportunity for experimentation and a chance to make solid evaluations. I’m training for the Chicago Marathon, which is Oct. 10. That gives me three solid months to tinker with nutrition, clothes, shoes and injury prevention measures. Come race day, I don’t want to leave anything to chance. I want to be confident that what’s going onto and into my body will give me the best opportunity to succeed and enjoy the day. Well, as much as you can enjoy the pain of running 26.2 miles.
With the temperature in the mid 80s and humidity at “tropical” levels, Saturday was perfect for testing nutrition and injury prevention. The nutrition test was for Nuun, an electrolyte-replacement product I bought at the recent Rock ‘n Roll Half Marathon in Seattle. The injury prevention was what I billed as the “Nipple Smackdown” – BodyGlide vs. SportShield to see which would do a better job of preventing chafing.
First, the nutrition test. Nuun claims to “restore optimal water and electrolyte balance more quickly.” Nuun is a large tablet that you mix with 16 oz. of water. Unlike Gatorade and many other popular sports drinks, Nuun has no carbohydrates. That’s because, according to Nuun’s website, “ingesting drinks containing high levels of carbohydrates can have two undesirable effects when it comes to hydration. Carbohydrates can slow the rate at which your stomach empties and therefore delays the availability of the water and electrolytes.”
Nuun tablet and package
I had “carbed up” before the run, and I also have two PowerGels that I would be consuming during the run. I’ve read in Runner’s World that consuming carb gels with a drink containing carbs is not advisable, both because of the absorption issue described above and because it can cause stomach distress. If you’ve read about my Boston Marathon experience, you’ll understand why I’m keen to avoid stomach distress!
I’ve tried small samples of Nuun at a few race expos, but this was my first time to drink it “full on” in any significant quantity. If you’re used to sugary sports drinks, it will take some getting used to the salty taste of Nuun. However, I found that the longer I ran, the more I craved the Nuun taste. With Gatorade, my usual sports drink, the opposite is true. After about two hours, I can’t stand the thought of drinking more syrup.
On this hot, very humid day, I was pleased with the way I felt hydration-wise. I never felt thirsty or dry-mouthed, and I didn’t get light-headed. However, I did still suffer some stomach problems. Within 15 minutes of consuming a PowerGel and washing it down with Nuun, I was doubled over and was beginning to look for plants with very large leaves in case I … you know. The timing is suspicious, but I will need to do more testing to determine if this was due to the Nuun-PowerGel combo. According to Nuun’s website, that shouldn’t have caused a problem. And I’m in marketing, so I know websites never stretch the truth. (Ahem)
Now, on to the “Nipple Smackdown!”
If you’ve ever seen a half or full marathon, you’ve probably seen some poor schmuck sporting two bloody splotches on his singlet. If you’ve been that guy, Dude, I feel for you. My nipples have never bled, but they’ve been chafed enough to light on fire as soon as I step in the shower.
(As a side note, this affliction only affects men. I know this for two reasons: 1) I’ve never seen a woman with bloody nipples. In a race, anyway. And 2), if this did affect women, we’d be subjected to feminine hygiene commercials for it.)
It only takes one occurrence of nipple chafing for you to say, “This must never happen again!” There are a few ways of protecting your masculine “mosquite bites.” First and foremost, don’t wear a cotton shirt! Cotton gets wet and stays wet, which makes those natural fibers turn into sandpaper for your skin. Wear a “technical shirt” that wicks moisture away from your body. You can get one at any running or sports store, or even regular stores like Target or Wal-Mart. Or just run in a race. These days, many races give tech shirts instead of the ol’ cotton standard.
Okay, now that you have a technical shirt, what else can you do? You can slather your nips with Vaseline, but petroleum products are said to break down the fabric in technical shirts which, over time, will leave you with two holes in your shirt. While that would solve the problem, it’s not a real good look.
You could place Band-Aids on your boobies, but I’ve never had success keeping a regular bandage on for a full marathon. Plus, if you’re hirsute, you may have to shave more than you want. I also tried the small round bandages. They did stay on, but they didn’t prevent chafing. I guess my “high beams” were just too much for them.
Another bandage-type remedy is NipGuards, which are basically a special-purpose Band-Aid similar to one you would use for a corn on your foot. They’re round with a hollow center. You may have to shave a bit, but it would be minimal. The adhesive sticks very well to skin, so it holds for a long time, but miraculously it’s not that hard to pull off of hair. I’ve worn NipGuards during each of my eight marathons and for many other races, but I have to say, I hate paying $8 or $9 for a one-trick pony. Even if the trick is a good one.
For that amount, possibly less, you can get a multi-purpose anti-chafing product such as BodyGlide or SportShield. On this training run, I decided to do the Nipple Smackdown: BodyGlide on the left and SportShield on the right. In addition to the nipple on its assigned side, I applied each product to its respective arm crease (the front edge, just before the underarm), groin and inner ankle (when I get tired and my form breaks down, my shoe sometimes grazes the opposite ankle when I stride through).
BodyGlide and SportShield
BodyGlide sounds like a product you would get in an “adult novelty” store, but trust me, it’s appropriate for use outside the bedroom. It comes in a package similar to a stick deodorant, and the consistency is also similar, though it feels dry to the touch. You apply it in the same way, by rubbing the stick where you don’t want to chafe. It’s not petroleum-based, so it won’t break down technical fibers. It holds up pretty well to wetness, but I have had times on long runs when it didn’t last long enough, which led to some discomfort.
Whereas BodyGlide is like stick deodorant, SportShield is like a roll-on (it also comes in towelettes, which I’ve not tried). Once applied, it feels super slick on your skin, so it’s easy to see how it can shield against chafing. SportShield is also safe for your tech clothes. I originally bought SportShield to protect my feet from blisters. I prefer the feel of it over BodyGlide on my feet, and it does a fantastic job. Since then, it’s working its way up my body. I’m now just as likely to use SportShield in the groin area (I just can’t say, “on my panty line”) as BodyGlide, which was my mainstay. Only recently have I started using it on my nipples, which is why I was eager to do the Smackdown.
The Smackdown Results
The winner of the Nipple Smackdown is . . . yet to be determined. The run was a good test: a little over two hours in a thoroughly soaked shirt. Thankfully for me, both products performed as promised, protecting me from chasing. I will admit to being a little disappointed. I wanted a clear winner. But like the World Cup, we’ll have to go into “extra time” to put these two products to a tougher test. I’m not yet ready to head out for 26.2 miles without NipGuards.
To recap, I conducted nutrition and injury prevention tests. On the nutrition front, I had several positive outcomes and one significant negative one. I’ll test again taking a gel and drinking Nuun to see if that causes an upset stomach again. If it does, Nuun is out for me as a drink during runs over an hour.
In the chafing test, the good news is both products held their own, so it could boil down to a matter of personal preference. Or maybe, just maybe, one will win out in a few weeks when I bump up my mileage.
, this is the absolute worst time of the year. You’re probably dealing with high temperatures, sopping humidity or both. The physical conditions are bad, sure, but even worse is the mental drain. Even for beginners, some of the midweek runs are edging into double digits, and the longest run of the week is nearing three hours. But there’s one particular kind of long run that really drags me down and makes me question why I do this. I call it the “No Man’s Land” run.![[del.icio.us]](http://www.TurtlesAgainstCancer.com/wp-content/plugins/bookmarkify/delicious.png)
![[Digg]](http://www.TurtlesAgainstCancer.com/wp-content/plugins/bookmarkify/digg.png)
![[Google]](http://www.TurtlesAgainstCancer.com/wp-content/plugins/bookmarkify/google.png)
![[LinkedIn]](http://www.TurtlesAgainstCancer.com/wp-content/plugins/bookmarkify/linkedin.png)
![[StumbleUpon]](http://www.TurtlesAgainstCancer.com/wp-content/plugins/bookmarkify/stumbleupon.png)
![[Windows Live]](http://www.TurtlesAgainstCancer.com/wp-content/plugins/bookmarkify/windowslive.png)
![[Yahoo!]](http://www.TurtlesAgainstCancer.com/wp-content/plugins/bookmarkify/yahoo.png)
![[Email]](http://www.TurtlesAgainstCancer.com/wp-content/plugins/bookmarkify/email.png)
Donate to "Turtles Against Cancer." Posted in Rambling On, Training Notes | 2 Comments
