The Lone Runner

Today I have a 13 mile run. It is a lot shorter than the 18 and 20 miles that have been the staple of my weekends for months. But, the prescribed pace in my training plan is 8 minutes per mile. That, not so coincidentally, is the goal pace in the marathon, too. The idea is to get my body used to that pace before I (try to) run it in the Boston Marathon in 2 weeks and 2 days. I know I can run 13 miles at an 8 minute pace. My first half marathon, 4 years ago was at that pace. I have run several half marathons at faster than that pace since then. The component that I have to watch is my mind, and my focus. As my body tapers off the longer runs, my legs may feel like they are able to run a 7:30 pace for 4-5 miles. But that could wear me out for the last 4-5 miles. Or, I could be cruising along for 8-9 miles, right at 8 minute splits – but if I lose focus, I could drift down to an 8:15 or 8:30 pace. The prevailing wisdom in marathons and half marathons is to have an even pace throughout, or run the first half slower, and the second half, a few seconds per mile faster. Of course, that works best for flat courses, and Boston is all over the (elevation) map.

I see someone I know from the health club getting ready to start a run with a friend. He doesn’t recognize me at first, with a black skull cap, dark sunglasses and black tights. We say hi, and it looks like he and his friend are ready to go before I am. I wouldn’t mind running with them, because the guy I know wants to qualify for Boston in a fall marathon, and he will need close to the same time I had (or maybe 5 minutes slower). We have run together before, and he can definitely keep up with me- but I’m not sure how much of a runner his friend is; he looks younger, but stockier.

Today I am not the best prepared. I left the house without any gel packs, and this is when I am supposed to finalize running with my race gear, shoes and nutrition. Now I realize that I did not grab mt nylon running shell. It is about 35 degrees, so it is good to have a vented windbreaker, that you can unzip if you warm up. I had dressed in a softer polyester warmup jacket, which I like to wear afterwards. It is heavier, and more of a porous fabric, so it does not guard against wind or rain. Well, you go with what you got, so off I go.

Today I am going to run out and back on the Old Plank Road Trail, west from downtown Frankfort through the south end of my town, Mokena. The Old Plank Road was an “old, plank road”, a road made out of wooden boards. It ran through this part of the state in the later 1800’s. Later, a railroad was built, but fell into disuse. So, about 15-20 years ago, a group worked with the parks, and forest preserves to turn the unused railroad right-of-way into a mixed use trail. It is a great resource to the area, and it’s amazing to think that some homeowners in the area resisted it. Now, I see that houses near it list the trail in their ads as a selling point, so it definitely has increased property values (and lowered blood pressure).

About 3 miles west, there is a spur going north across US Route 30, reaching into a Will County forest preserve holding. They call it the Hickory Creek Junction, but there are 3-4 paths with Hickory Creek in their name around here, so we just call it "the hilly loop".

Just before I get there, I almost catch up to the guys I followed. I was not trying to, because my pace was fast as it was. They keep going straight. This path is going to get hilly, which is what I want. I should end up with 8 miles flat, and about 5 miles of hills. My wife Laura told me some people from her tri-club were going to go to Lemont to run the route of the Quarryman Challenge today. It’s a 10 mile race happening in May, in one of the hilliest areas around Chicago. I would have loved to have trained on that terrain, but this far into my training, it might be too intense. Plus, the pace I am looking for would be hard to hold on all hills for 13 miles.

So, I stick to my home turf here as I run towards my home in this wooded area, with about a half-dozen deer grazing under power lines in the distance. I keep my pace close to 8/8:15 per mile, and I count on picking up speed on some of the downhill stretches. I come up to the turnaround point near Schoolhouse Road in New Lenox, right across from Lincoln-Way Central High School. I am wearing new shoes today (the ones I will wear for Boston). This is about my 8th pair of Mizuno Wave Riders. I break in a new pair every 200-300 miles, and I wear the older ones in lousy weather/muddy paths, and use the newer ones for races and long runs. My feet have been feeling like they are slipping in the toebox, which is odd, because this is the same size I have had for all my other pairs. Even though I prefer not to stop during my runs, I decide to stop and re-tie these shoes (which I am terrible at). I usually put self-tying elastic shoelaces in my running shoes (Yankz). I just haven’t got around to it for this pair. This will also give me a chance to stretch, because a couple of days ago, my left glute started to feel tight. Most of my aches are below the knee, and a lot of people get hamstring or quad problems. It hasn’t been hindering me, but it is such a big muscle, I want to keep an eye on it.

The last ¾ miles have been uphill, so as I come out of the woods to the parking lot, the flatter terrain allows me to speed up. A couple of women have just crossed the street at the stop light, and are angling toward the same spot as me on different branch of the path. We all stop by the tables/water fountain/bathrooms. They seem like pretty good runners, and are talking about one of them not noticing something the other did or was wearing when she was in front of her. So I chime in – “Sort of convenient that she doesn’t remember details when you’re in front of her.” They laugh about this, and one of the says “Well I hate it when someone with a dog is able to pass you”. So I counter with "getting passed by a Mom with a baby jogger". We trade info about the routes we ran, they say 7-8, I tell them I’m halfway to 13. They say that they can’t even think about that. As I start to head off, I say “Well I have to; I have 26.2 to run in Boston in 2 weeks”. They hoot out, “Oh, you are a good runner, if you’re running Boston!”, seeing through my self-deprecating remarks about the baby jogger.

And the man in black runs into the sunrise …