Pronouncing The Death of NJM: Sidelined by the Flu

So maybe taunting the marathon gods with a pseudonym for an imaginary illness at the start of race week wasn't the smartest move. I suspect that some supernatural being noticed my sarcasm and decided to unleash vengeance on me. Within 24 hours after publishing my last post, I was humbled and humiliated by a real viral infection: A superbug that has left me with fever, chills, malaise and exhaustion for the past two days. I've lost my appetite, I've lost weight, and almost fainted on the subway coming home from work last night. And in case you are still wondering, running has been out of the question since just walking down the block to the grocery store and back feels like a marathon in and of itself. Sad, I know.

As I've been spending a lot of time in bed the past few days, holding on to a pipe dream that I'll recover in time to run the marathon this weekend, I've been thinking about how it came to be that I've been transformed overnight from a healthy and active marathon runner to a giant puddle of glob stuck in the fetal position underneath two layers of heavy blankets unable to move. It'd be easy to blame this latest travesty on a stroke of bad luck. After all, everyone gets sick (just like everyone poops) at one time or another, right? But what if I told you I voluntarily got up at 4am on Sunday to volunteer at the More Half Marathon which required me to stand in the cold and rain for 4 hours while handing out cups of water and Gatorade? What if I told you that after some lunch that same day, I was so inspired by all the women runners braving the terrible weather for 13.1 miles that I ran the same distance in a constant drizzle as a tribute to the ladies? (BTW, someone commented on FB that running 13.1 in 1:33 that day after handing out water for 4 hrs wasn't enough of a tribute. I needed to run for 2:20. Seriously?)

Yeah, I realize in retrospect what a dumb decision that was. I forgot that I have the innate immunity of a SCID baby and I get sick easy, early, and often (and not the kind of sick that can be used to describe Lebron James on the basketball court either!) The funniest thing was that I was just talking to my mom Sunday night and telling her how proud I was that I haven't been sick in 4 or 5 months. Boy, was I way off the mark.

So there you have it. Although I doubted I'd be ever seeing the light of day again after hunkering in bed for 3 days, I am actually feeling a little better today, at least enough to let you all know that I'm still alive. As for my prospects for the New Jersey Marathon...sigh...I think it's safe to say that it is beyond resuscitation at this point. Besides, is there any reason for me to hurt and struggle just to complete another 26.2? I'll just be risking further damage to my body to try for a goal that is no longer attainable. So as much as it saddens, disappoints and pains me to say...

Time of (NJ Marathon) Death - 12:18PM. (Actually, Ms.V did the honors for me last night on twitter, but I'm re-creating it here just in case no one else heard...)

The wake will take place on Sunday, May 2nd. Details of funeral arrangements will be distributed to interested party members at a later date.

R.I.P. my friend.

Digging Out Of A Hole, Part II

Well, yes, it’s been another little while since I’ve provided an update for all you fine running folks. Unfortunately, it’s the same old song with the same old refrain from me. I’m physically getting better, recovering from my sickness. The cough is still there although much rarer now then it used to be. I am not really complaining even if my inopportune coughing spells at times make me look more like a homeless guy with a nicotine addiction than a marathoner in training. Either that or everyone in my apartment building thinks I have the swine flu because they all give me strange looks whenever I let out a slight cough in the elevators. So even though I look fine and feel fine, everyone else around me these days are acting like I’m a bigger menace to society than the Taliban! What gives?

As for my running, well, there is some good news and bad news. The good news is that I successfully completed my 4th 20+ mile run of the training cycle this past weekend on my way to a whopping 60.4 miles for the week (my highest total ever so far!) The bad news is that my speed game is still nowhere to be found. It’s been three weeks since I’ve experienced any semblance of quickness and efficiency on my runs. It’s so sad that I’m considering posting up an MIA sign for my speedy legs on my refrigerator door and refusing to take it down until I have documented evidence that the faster version of my lower extremities has returned to me. In the meantime, I’m practicing patience and diligence in putting in the miles day after day, slow, slower, or medium-fast as they might be, and having faith that the running gods will notice my steady work ethic soon and grant me back my old speed and form from a month ago. Well, that’s the game plan for now. However, if I fail my next big test (in the form of not making a certain time in a half-marathon this weekend in my own backyard essentially), I reserve the right to blow up this whole “run more miles, run slower miles” training plan that I am on now and revert back to a version of my old “quality over quantity” philosophy of training that I’ve used somewhat successfully in the past. For the record, I don’t like changing things in the middle of marathon training, but I feel if my legs aren’t responding to the heavier mileage plan, I need to be proactive and make changes to the plan in order to improve my chances of scoring a two-minute PR at the NYC marathon.

Truth be told, I’m seriously hoping it won’t come to that because I am starting to like the high mileage training. In other words, Lungs-please, no more coughing, and Legs-please do your thing at the Queens Half. Got it? Good! While we anxiously await the results of that battle, here’s my latest updated “grid” for your observations, comments, and review.

Seven weeks left to race day and counting! We’re getting close to crunch time!

Digging Out Of A Hole

Alright, yes, I realize that’s been way too long since I’ve posted. And believe me, I do feel kind of bad that I’ve been M.I.A for a little bit after all the encouraging and insightful comments you all left on my previous post. I really do appreciate all the well wishes and have read through the list at least twice while I was sick but I seriously did not feel like ruining everyone’s day and holding a pity party for myself, so I figured I’d wait until the whole sickness episode was over before I reported again. Unfortunately, I remained infected for way longer than I ever anticipated (~10-12 days…yikes!) and is only now recovered enough to a point where I am not coughing, sneezing or running to the bathroom every hour and can sleep through the night without interruption. This is a major upgrade from how I felt even just 48 hours ago, believe me, so I’m not complaining.

What is frustrating me to no end however is that although physically, I feel about 90% back, my running, especially my speed game is only about 60% back from where it was just a few weeks ago. I know this because although I’ve been able to complete the majority of my easy, steady, and long runs, I have not finished a speedwork session successfully since before I got sick. And it’s not been from lack of trying either. Over the weekend, I wanted to try a marathon-paced run, but wasn’t able to sustain the effort past 2 miles. Yesterday, I attempted a tempo run of 7 miles but quit after 4. Time and time again, I’ve failed and failed at maintaining a faster pace that its all wreaking a havoc on my sanity and confidence. I realize that I am physically still not 100% (since I still intermittently cough while running and have trouble taking in fluids in between breaths) and should not extrapolate my current running state to how I will perform when I’m fully recovered but I can’t help but wonder if my speed and stamina will come back to me in time. Yes, I know it will…but I just wonder sometimes. I have a relay race with Flyers where I will be running the toughest segment (7 miles of hilly terrain) of the entire course coming up this weekend (with a 20 miler over three bridges the next day) and the Queens Half Marathon coming up next weekend. So my speed will be called on plenty and often during the next two weekend. I hope my legs still remember how to perform in front of a crowd!

Thanks again for all the well wishes. I am getting better…slowly! Don’t you all worry, I’ll find my way back here soon. Hope all is well with everyone and their running!

My Quick Sick Weekend Review

A quickie weekend review from me bullet-style, since I’m still a bit sick and not able to form coherent thoughts…

Saturday:

• Woke up with fever and headache
• Took some meds (didn’t help)
• Watched some good track and field on TV (how about that Ritz?!)
• Thought about running, but decided against it
• Felt guilty about falling behind on marathon training
• Had hot and cold spells throughout the day
• Didn’t have much of an appetite so ate minimally
• Drank a few liters of water, enough to pee water
• Answered RBF e-mails about with injuries and marathon plans
• Made minor adjustments to my own marathon training “grid”
• Slept off and on, getting up mostly to pee.

Sunday:

• Got up late (9-ish)
• Saw the sun but felt cold
• Ate small breakfast (wasn’t hungry)
• Tricked myself into believing I’m significantly better
• Got dressed in running shorts, sleeveless tank, and bandana
• Poured Gatorade into handheld and stuffed a GU into pants pocket
• Reattempt missed 16 miler from yesterday
• Ran slow and easy and comfortable for first half
• Died a slow death in the second half (especially last 2.5 miles)
• Finished 16 a few blocks away and had to sit to prevent passing out
• Saw some white powder on upper arms and took a lick, tasted salty
• Was puzzled by why I felt so exhausted until I got home and changed
• GU was still there in my left pants pocket.
• Laughed with some friends online at my own stupidity. Haha!

The Aftermath? Here’s the updated grid.

Me, Kara, and Some Verbal Diarrhea

So you know how when you have a cold or a flu, the kind where it hurts just to move your head and you have a thousand thoughts swirling around that probably wouldn’t make sense on any other day but it makes perfect sense to you right now because you’re sick and tired and all you want to do is slip under the covers and not emerge again until this viral episode is over but you can’t because you have work to do and errands to run and deadlines to meet so you try to compromise by urging your malaise body to get up and jot these thoughts down hoping they’d serve some therapeutic purpose? Yeah, that’s where I am today, so if this post gets a bit long or superfluous or in general reads more like a bout of verbal diarrhea than what came out of my you-know-what this morning, then please excuse the intrusion and come back next week when we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Okay, you’ve been forewarned…Now welcome to my world!

I knew I was headed for trouble when I went to bed last night with a slight tickle in the back of my throat. Truth be told, I had been putting my body under a tremendous amount of physical stress ever since I got back from California two days ago. Between jetting directly from the airport to the hospital after an overnight red-eye flight to a dinner engagement that left me up ‘til the wee hours that night followed by the next morning, playing doctor to 50 kids at diabetes camp and zipping off to do an intense interval workout (12 miles with 4 x 1mile @ 5:54) where I pushed my physical limits way beyond what I had scheduled (11 miles with 3 x 1mile @ 6:03) for myself before heading home at way past my bedtime after dinner with a friend and feeling so physically exhausted that I almost passed out in the sofa before even taking off my clothes, I really have no right to complain that my body is rebelling against me right now. The funny thing about this whole episode is that over dinner last night, I had boastfully confided to my friend (when he reminded me that NYCM is 9.5 weeks away) that my marathon training is going so well and so smoothly even though I’m running faster and longer than I ever have before that I think I’ve already maxed out my miles and my long runs and am dumbfounded as to how to strategize my training for the rest of the time. Indeed, after downloading my runs from California into my training log and reviewing my progress during my flight home, I realized I’ve already done more 55+ mile weeks (3) than I did in my preparation for Boston! Now only so, but I’ve done 3 20+mile runs in the past 4 weekends, and have accumulated more miles this month (200+) than I’ve ever run! And through it all, I dare say I’m running a bit faster (as evidenced by my interval workout) and smoother (each interval clocked in at 5:53-5:54) than I ever have before. And the biggest triumph I can claim – no injuries! Yay! Truthfully though, if you don’t mind me saying so, I am a little frightened by these developments. I’ve never gone through a whole training cycle without injury before! So I’m not quite sure how I’m supposed to handle myself. Should I continue at my current pace and mileage and hope to maintain this level of fitness all the way through? Should I step back a bit and take a couple of lower mileage recovery weeks so I can build up to a peak again before the taper? If I want to add mileage, I’m not quite sure I can run more miles than I do now, given that I am putting in 55 or so miles in 5 days/week of running. I guess I can raise the ante and add a sixth day but I’m afraid I might overtrain this body and have disastrous results. (Remember, I’ve always been a proponent of 4 days/wk of running for marathon training so to be consistently running 5 days/wk now is already a big deal to me!) Besides, I don’t want to run more than 3 consecutive days since my muscles tend to get quite sore by the third day even when I run slow. So what to do, what to do? I’m leaning more on just being patient and consistent and stick with what has gotten me here. There’s a bunch of races and marathon-paced run coming up in the next several months so if I can maintain a 55-60 mile/week base and just add some dedicated speed training, I think that should be good enough for me.

Speaking of running, I forgot to mention something that I posted about in my recap of my California adventure. While I was there, every cousin, aunt, uncle came up to me in private and congratulated me on being an awesome runner! I guess they’ve all heard at one time or another that I run marathons and such but most have never really witnessed it in person, and fewer still has ever talked to me about it. So when they saw me waking early everyday to run 5-7 miles and then found out that I took the early bird train to San Fran and ran 21 miles over the Golden Gate Bridge before they had even finished brunch, they were all beyond impressed. I became a mini-celebrity for the rest of the weekend! All the uncles and aunts came up to me afterwards and told me their individual running stories, which was so very cool to hear. Then my cousins came and asked about my marathon training and how long it takes someone to train to run long distances. I told them all my reasons for running and how it sustains me and challenges me and how it makes me a good doctor and better person when I run. I don’t know if won over any of them by my story, but it was definitely cool when I “accidentally” overheard one of my younger cousins whisper to her brother later on – “I think it’s so cool to be able to run ten or fifteen miles just because you feel like it!” Yeah, right on! I think if I had a bucket list, one of the items would definitely be to run a marathon with a member of my family.

Switching gears a bit, did you all see the marathon coverage from the 2009 IAAF World Championships in Berlin over the weekend? Did you all see Kara Goucher (spoiler alert) and her 10th place finish? How about her courageous post-race interview afterwards – here, and here? What did you all think? I only got to see it last night on DVR since I was away this weekend so if this is old hat to you all, I apologize. I thought she did an admirable job, doing the best that she can despite having major GI issues during the race and battling her stomach for much of the race. I know she must be disappointed given as how she put her life on hold (at least for several months) just to dedicate herself to training for this race. Like she mentioned in her interview, she was training better than she ever has and was as well prepared as she could be, but it just wasn’t meant to be. I guess that is the thing about marathons - you can train like hell, be at the peak of your physical conditioning on race day and something crazy and fluky can happen at any point during the 26.2 mile course to ruin your chances at a race goal. The thing that impressed me about Kara was that despite her obvious disappointment (and some vomiting) she can still say with a straight face that she loves the marathon distance and this race. How many of us can say that minutes after crossing the finish line after a less-than-stellar time?

Watching the marathon coverage, I immediately felt humbled by Kara’s performance and her words. Because I too have felt utter disappointment at missing a PR in a marathon not too long ago and feel as if I’m currently running and training better than I ever have for any prior marathon, the words she spoke shot through the computer monitor and into my heart with a reverberation so strong it was the last sound I heard before drifting off to sleep last night – I wonder if I’ll end up with a similar performance in NYC? What if I run a 3:05 or a 3:15 or even worse a 3:00:02? Will I be happy? Will I be devastasted? Will I be gracious? Will I remaining a proponent of marathons, or will I swear off the race and take a break for as long as Kara is going to be out of the running scene? I sincerely hope not, but like every aspect of racing a marathon – you just never know.

Rainy Running Day: The SequelNot So Fun Anymore!

After my travels around the park in a steady rainstorm, you’d think the running gods would celebrate my persistence and general hardcoreness and bless me with a gesture of some kind – improved physical conditioning, better running mechanics, more efficient strides (honestly, I would have taken ANYTHING) – but you’d be wrong. Instead I’m cooped up in bed with my running book, a pounding headache, a 102F fever and enough Motrin in my tummy to open up a drug store. This is just not fair! Who gets the flu in the middle of summer? Oh right, the stupid idiot who decided to taunt the weather gods and run in the midst of a rainstorm. Oops. Guess I should have stayed indoors like the rest of the civilized world instead of trying to simulate the “natural running” of the Tarahumara Indians! I officially blame Brandon Wood for conducting such an excellent interview with Chris McDougal, the author of “Born To Run” (which I listened to while I was running) that he made me feel as if I too could spontaneously run 100 miles…in the rain…with no prior training…and no shoes. (Alright, just kidding about the no shoes part…)

But alas you think this post is just about a sick man ranting about his sickness, sorry to disappoint. There’s actually a more important and intellectually stimulating question I want to poll the audience. Does running in the rain make one more susceptible to infectious agents? Have others had similar experience as me where my chances of catching a virus of some sort exponentially increases after a run in bad weather? Does that even make sense physiologically or is this just an old wives’ tale? I have to admit that despite all the medical training I’ve undergone, I am clueless to explain this phenomenon. All the books I’ve ever read tells me that steady running/exercise bolters the immune system (except during the immediate period before and after a marathon). So why does my immunity grow weaker than Superman next to kryptonite every time I run in the rain, snow, extreme temperatures, and the like. Why am I sick in the middle of summer? (I googled my question and found this annecdoctal answer...but I'm still somewhat skeptical)

Despite my sickness, I miraculously completed my mid week long-ish run this morning. 10.3 miles in 1:17:39 (7:32 pace). To be honest, I popped a couple of Motrins prior to the run and didn’t feel the effects of my impaired physical state until the last mile and a half. I underestimated the humidity outside and my dehydrated state caused me to almost faint at the end of the run. I slumped to the side of an apartment building and didn’t try to get up until after the security guard brought me some juice and water. I somehow made it home and have been in bed ever since. Hey, I might have fever and shaking chills, but at least I haven’t yet fallen behind in my marathon training! Don't I deserve some brownie points for this? (Yes, I know I’m a dork!) Tomorrow is a scheduled rest day and Saturday is my first 18 miler of the season. We’ll see if I’m ready to run by then.

You Know You’re Really Sick During The Marathon Taper When

1. You get out of bed only to wonder when you get back to bed.

2. You’ve been off the road for so long that you forgot how soreness felt.

3. Food has no taste, just different degrees of blandness.

4. You're out of breath just walking fast to catch the bus.

5. Instead of preparing a victory dance, you make contingency plans for a graceful DNF.

6. Your clinical assessment of patients in the hospital is strictly based on how sick they are compared to you.

7. You go on the treadmill for a good 5 at marathon pace and you (literally) run off the treadmill!

8. Instead of making plans for running sub 3, you wonder how you’re ever going to stay awake for 3 hours.

9. You realize running a marathon the way you are would make an excellent episode of Survivor

10. You consider skipping out on the Boston Marathon as a real possibility.

Bonus – You feel so sick so close to the biggest race of your life that you wonder if someone somewhere is trying to tell you something…

Office Conversation

Colleague 1: Geez, Lam, you look like crap…
Me: Yeah, I got sick over the weekend. Don’t ask! And I’m supposed to run my marathon in two weeks…
Colleague 2: I can’t run a mile when I’m happy and well-caffeinated…
Me: Well, I hope I get better soon, I don’t want to go to Boston with fever and chills…
Colleague 1: Oh, the race is in Boston?
Me: Yeah, it’s the Boston Marathon. Don’t you remember me talking about it practically all last week?
Colleague 2: Well, if you don’t feel well, I think you should skip it.
Me: Skip what?
Colleague 2: Your ten mile marathon in Boston.
Me: But it’s the Boston Marathon and it’s 26.2 miles, not 10.
Colleague 1: Isn’t there plenty of races in New York? Why are you going all the way to Boston to run? What…like our roads here aren’t good enough for you?
Colleague 2: I agree. What’s the difference between a marathon here and a marathon there? They’re all the same anyway…

I couldn’t tell whether my head hurt more from the fever and chills or from being a party to this conversation. Luckily, a patient of mine came in and I had to leave.

My Sick (Sick) Run

And just in case you’re wondering…by “sick” I’m NOT referencing the kind of “sick” that is synonymous with “WICKED”, “PHAT” or my personal favorite, “The Coronation of the Lamination”! In fact, if you’ve been paying attention, you’d notice that my LogMyRun log has been empty since the weekend, which meant that I’ve not logged a single mile in THREE days, which is unheard of in the middle of any marathon training program.

What is to follow involves a whole lot of medical jargon, so if you don’t feel like listening to me explain how I attempted to diagnose myself, I suggest you click away. For those who do stay however, I promise you’ll learn something about the pathophysiology of running sick that you might find useful, or at least entertaining…

The truth is, I started to feel sick the moment I landed in JFK. Even though I’m a pediatrician at heart, I blame it all on the 12-month-old rugrat who sat on his father lap in the seat next to me, and didn’t let me get one iota of sleep during the entire five hour flight from San Fran to New York. Moreover, she probably gave me some virulent strain of chlamydia or pertussis that’s been the bane of my existence for the past four nights. Even though she had no active symptoms, I know how infants and toddlers carry more infectious agents in their little pinky than I do in my entire body! At any rate, I became infected and within 12 hours of my arrival back in my apartment, I had the classic symptoms of a troublesome viral syndrome – runny nose, malaise, mild tachycardia and tachypnea.

I was good to myself though, and didn’t even try to run that day or the next, figuring I’d rest and give myself the necessary energy to fight off the infection. But instead of getting better, my symptoms got worse, until yesterday afternoon when I started to get side stitches on deep inspiration. I had planned for an easy 4 or 5 miler after work just to get back in the swing of things, but once I developed the side stitch first on one side than the other such that I couldn’t even take a full breath, I knew I had to throw my running plans right out the window as well. So instead I did all this medical research on the differential diagnosis of pleuritic chest pain and diagnosed myself either with a walking pneumonia (again from the chlamydia or pertussis) or a weird fungal lung infection (worse case scenario). I even tried to listen to myself with my stethoscope, but unfortunately my little pediatric version wouldn’t wrap around to the back. I made arrangements to call my best friend who’s also a medicine doctor first thing in the morning so he could listen to me and write me a script for a Z-pac.

Finally, on waking this morning, I had a breakthrough. I know it sounds weird, but I developed a new symptom which convinced me that I was getting better. I started coughing. This was good because usually in the time course of a common cold, by the time you develop a hacking dry cough, it usually means the tide has turned and you’re on your way to recovery. The pleuritic chest pain was also gone. Yay! Still, just to make sure, I called my medicine friend and left a message that I needed a STAT consult. Unfortunately, he returned my call a half hour later and told me that he was actually attending a conference in Chicago and won’t be back until the weekend. Bummer! I could’ve asked anybody else at the hospital to listen or write me a script…heck, I could’ve written a script myself…hmmm, okay, probably not so ethical…but since I thought I had turn the corner, I decided not to bother anyone, and proceeded to cough my way through my office hours. (Honestly, there’s nothing like seeing a whole panel of kids who are all healthy and well when you’re constantly sneezing with a fever and coughing up a lung!)

It was late by the time I got home and yet again, I had a decision to make. Should I stay home and get better quicker or risk impeding my recovery with a short run. On my running schedule, I saw I had already missed a long run and a speed workout this week, and thought that four days off running would officially qualify me as being on the DL. So I compromised and allowed myself to run with the premise that I’d take it easy and not even look at Rover (my Garmin) for the duration of the run.

It was almost already dark by the time I got to the park. This was good, because for one thing, the weather was comfortable and cool, and for another, I really didn’t want to bump into anyone I know who could see me run so slow. It’s a pride thing, I know, but I really wanted to allow my body (and not my mind) every chance to dictate the pace I was going to run.

Let me tell ya, running in Central Park again after a two week absence felt somewhat weird to me for the first half mile. While I was building my pace to a comfortable speed and letting my heart rate climb ever so slow, I was awed again by my surroundings. Turning the corner down Harlem Hill, I saw flickers of yellow light in the bushes next to me…fireflies! They definitely weren’t there the last time I ran here. Although they could be annoying at times, tonight I felt completely at peace with them and imagining that their little lights were actually celebratory fireworks for my coming home again! It’s weird how you can get so emotional by little things when you’re sick, but I literally cried some happy tears climbing up Harlem Hill, staring at the silhouette of tree branches against a beautiful full moon. I was so happy just to not be sick and running again that I felt inspired to run 12, 16, or who knows, maybe even 20 miles!

Feeling my heart pounding a bit fast and my breathing becoming shallow, I scaled my pace back on the downhill portions of the 6 mile loop. The funny thing was everytime I did that, my legs which were feeling quite good started to complain. My heart and lungs were hurting, but my legs were not. It was as if my lower body was complaining that the upper part was holding my running back. The feeling was completely foreign to me, because I’m usually running long miles on sore legs, so it’s usually the calves, hamstrings and quads that start hurting long before my cardiopulmonary system even notices a performance difference. As I focused in further on my running mechanics, I noticed that it was my breathing, and not the heart rate that was the limiting factor. I was taking about one breath for every beat and half today when ordinarily I could take about one breath for every two to two and a half beats. Not only so, but the breaths I were taking were again somewhat shallow and uneven. It was as if the rate of effective CO2-O2 exchange (more popularly known as VO2 effective) was ineffective and insufficient. I was somewhat intrigued by this notion so as I ran, so I tried to play around with my running mechanics by forcing myself to take deeper and slower breaths. I wasn’t really able to do this because as soon as I slowed my breathing, it would involuntarily speed up again, leading me to gasp for air. It also didn’t matter if I was running uphill or downhill or what my heart rate felt like to me, because my effective rate and lung volumes seemed somewhat set at a fixed rate. In pulmonogy terms, it resembled a obstructive lung pattern, similar to people who have exercised induced asthma. In layman’s terms, it’s like trying to breathe through a straw. Interpreting these results, I surmise that there are probably mucous plugs and other inflammatory garbage restricting the expansion of the tiny alveoli at the end of my bronchial tree. This was a very interesting science lesson for me, and it took me the rest of my six-mile run to calculate that my effective work of breathing was operating at around 65-70% of full efficiency. No wonder my heart and legs were so not enthused. That effort is so much less than my general aerobic effort which is somewhere in the range of 75-80%.

So you can imagine my surprise when I finished my six mile run, turned on the backlight for Rover, and found out that I averaged 7:00 min/miles for the full loop. What the heck? That is so much faster than what I imagined I was running. I really was thinking around 7:20-7:30, because it actually felt like I was running easy. I was so pumped about my time that I took an extra celebratory/cooldown loop around the reservoir (even though I remembered from the news that some guy just got mugged running this same trail at 2:00am early this morning, yikes!) Still, I took my time, finished the run, stretched, and celebrated with a Jumba Juice drink before heading home.

It was definitely a sick, sick run!

Thank you for getting through my long running diatribe about my sick run. If there are any medically related questions, feel free to shoot me a line! Hopefully, I did a decent job with the explanations.

Not So Sweet Sixteen: Another DNF?!

All you need to know about my sixteen miler yesterday was that I woke up in the morning with a fever and shaking chills. I felt fine on Friday, fine on Saturday, and found myself not being able to get out of bed Sunday morning. Maybe it was the run in the rain on Friday that did me in, or hanging out in t-shirt and short sleeves all night Saturday night when it was unseasonably cool that was to blame…I’m not sure. It’s funny how I always end up with a debilitating sickness whenever I’m scheduled for a long run. I thought about calling my training buddies and canceling but felt guilty that I’d be not only ruining my schedule, but theirs as well. And they’ve both been running so well that I didn’t want them to have a setback on my account.

So I willed myself up after rolling around in bed for 2 hours, got some breakfast, took some Motrin, and made myself believe that I was feeling better. By the time the late afternoon rolled around, my head was not hurting as much, and I went to meet the guys at the park. The weather outside was cloudy and cool, and by the time I reached the park, it had begun to rain. As I went through my stretching exercises, I promised myself to take the run slow and pace myself accordingly. I was a bit apprehensive when I noticed the HR on my Garmin 305 was already reading in the 90s even before the start (normally it’s in the 50s) and I suddenly felt the urge to relieve myself. Fortunately at that exact moment, the guys showed up, and took my focus away from my nagging thoughts.

We decided to run two 6-miler loops and then a 4-mile loop for the requisite 16 miles. Although I usually took these long runs more as a social gathering than as marathon training, I was pretty quiet and reticent right from the start because I was intently focused on my breathing and pacing and didn’t want to spend extra energy that I didn’t have conversing. We’d have plenty of time after the run for that, I presumed.

We all ran the first six miles pretty comfortably. At the end of the loop, I excused myself to visit the restroom and told the other guys to continue on without me. After relieving myself as quickly as I could, I came back to the road, took a gel pack, and continued on. I felt slightly more comfortable after the bathroom run, so I increased my pace every so slightly to catch up to the guys. I was still mindful of the fact that I had 10 more miles to go, so I did not dare to go off too quickly. By mile 8-9, I caught back up to them, and even ran past them to take the lead. I felt fine until mile 11-12, when my calves started to bother me, and my head began to throb. I force myself up the steep east side cat hill, taking small deliberate steps, and fought my way to the 12 mile finish. I stopped at a fountain to refill my water bottle, walked for a bit to take in another gel pack, and wanted to start back up again, but couldn’t. By this time, both of the guys had caught up and had past me and I was struggling to keep up. In the middle of that 13th mile, I began to develop a side twitch that had me holding my right side with each step. I slowed my run to a walk to allow it to subside, but it came back when I started running again. Faced with a pounding headache, aching calves, a debilitating side twitch, and an almost empty water bottle, I was forced to call it quits again after 13 miles.

The walk of shame from the west side back to the east side was physically and emotionally draining. Not only was I faced with the failure of another long run DNF and the psychological havoc it now creates for the rest of my marathon training, the temperature had also dropped a few degrees since we started, and I was shivering badly from the cold and rain. After jog-walking an eternity in what seemed like my own personal punishment back to the east side to meet up with the guys after their victorious final lap around the park, I felt, cold, sick, and even more beaten down than at any point during my running areer.

I can’t help but think that if I don’t make it to Boston this year, I would remember this run as the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Running with the Flu: Part Deux (but more like Part Dumb!)

Running is like hitting your head against the wall sometimes. Wait, or was that just my feet pounding the pavement? I can’t tell anymore; hurts about the same.

I thought I was feeling better today. No fever or headaches the whole day. Just some residual coughing and nasal congestion; nothing that should get in the way of a good run. So after my last debacle of a long run (see previous post), I was more eager than normal to lace up the shoes and hit the road, if only to prove to myself that I am a better runner than I showed on Sunday. I got home early from work this afternoon, but since it was a stifling hot and humid day, I waited patiently for sunset to start my run.

The schedule called for a 6 mile run around Central Park at a general aerobic pace, which for me, meant around 7:05-7:20 min/mile pace. I think I would have been happy even with a 7:30 min/mile pace, just as long as I ran well, and felt comfortable throughout. And just to be sure I would run according to my own comfort level, I promised myself that I wouldn’t even look at my watch to see my speed or my time until after the run.

Everything started out okay. I ran along the first mile or so at a comfortable pace, not feeling particularly bad. At around the end of that mile, I found myself next to two other runners who were running at my speed. Over the next half mile or so, all three of us kept taking turns in the lead, but still running at the same exact pace. Even through the first part of Harlem Hill, we were still within twenty feet of each other. Now I don’t know about others, but I hate running next to strangers for long stretches of road. I guess it goes back to what my dad always told me about driving, “It’s dangerous when you’re in a car to go at the same speed as the car next to you, either speed up or drop back!” So being that I running at a comfortable pace, I felt that I could speed up and give myself some running room, and then slow back down afterwards. So I did. I ran hard past the two guys over the crest of the hill and sped down the other side. That did the trick because the two boys were never heard from again. The only trouble was, I was not able to slow down after that. I kept running that same past pace through the next couple hills. By mile 3, I was breathing hard and was struggling with dehydration and exhaustion. I told myself to slow down, to catch my breath…but everytime I lost focus and thought about something else, I was back to my usual fast speed. It was infuriating because by mile 4 and 5, my calves were starting to really bother me, and I was panting so hard that I wasn’t about to take sips from my Gatorade bottle. I wanted to stop altogether but then I knew I might not start again if I did, and coming off a poor long run already, I wasn’t about to let that happen. So I struggled up Cat Hill and labored to the finish. By the last half mile, I was so delirious and tired that I was swerving and tripping. I almost hit a little kid riding her tricycle. It was terrible. The last 400 feet felt like it would last forever. I think some old lady must have heard me swearing to myself because she gave me a dirty look when I ran past her. When I finally finished, I slumped over to the benches and felt completely nauseous. It would be another 15 minutes before I could gather up enough energy to walk home.

All in all, I ran 6 miles at 6:55 min/mile pace, my second best time ever for a training run of that distance. On any other day, I think I would have been excited and proud to run that time. But tonight, when I neither had the energy or desire to do an impromptu tempo run, it’s taking a lot of energy right now not to doubt my training or get down on myself for making another rookie mistake.

Running with the Flu

Distance running is a very humbling sport. One minute, you’re there thinking your training is going well and you might not only run a good marathon, but establish a PR that would make your friends jealous; the next, you’re struggling through your long run (LR) and wondering if you should even bother lining up at the starting blocks if you’re just going to break down at the end and walk to the finish anyways.

I woke up this morning with a head cold. I’m not exactly sure how I can catch a cold in the dead of summer (and if anyone should know, I guess I should being an M.D. and all) but I felt sort of weak with a sore throat and mild fever all morning. I knew I had a 14 mile LR scheduled with my training partner in the late afternoon, so I tried to focus on taking it easy all day in preparation for the run. I hadn’t run since Thursday so I felt I was well rested from a physical standpoint to handle the challenge.

I felt slightly better by the time 5pm rolled around so I headed off to the park with my gel packs and Gatorade bottle anxious to begin my run. I met my friend Renny at the entrance to Central Park, did some light stretching, and headed off. We had planned to do three loops around the park: the upper 5-mile loop, the middle 4-mile loop, and the lower 5-mile loop for a total of 14 miles.

We ran the first loop at a nice and easy 8:00 min/mile pace. I was feeling comfortable as we started the second loop, but knew that I had to maintain the slow pace to make sure I had enough stamina to finish the run. The weather was perfect for a late Sunday run. Temps were around upper 70s, and there was a cool breeze that pretty much made the afternoon humidity a non-factor. Perhaps that was the reasons that one mile into that second loop, Renny (who usually complains that I’m running too fast!) decided to raise the ante and increase his speed to about 7:30 min/mile pace. I was neither prepared or expected to run at that pace and struggled hard to catch him. I eventually did by the end of the 4 mile loop, but was so winded and fatigued that I had to take a short break. I told him to go on ahead without me and went over to the water fountain to regroup. I took a few gulps of water, ate my powergel and started running again. I was hurting bad at this point and tried to focus on just moving my feet for as long as I could. The miles during that last loop seemed to last forever, and it took everything I had to keep going. At the end of mile 2, I made the executive decision to turn the last loop from a 5 miler to a 4 miler. I knew that if I hadn’t, there’d be a good chance I would be taking the dreaded “walk of shame” back to the start or worse, risk an injury that would wipe out the rest of my training.

Eventually, I was able to finish my 13 mile run at a 7:54 min/mile pace. My whole body was aching by the time I was done and had to rest on the bench for a good 5 minutes before I regained feeling again in my feet. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so tired and sore. Renny came in soon after I did, having completed the whole 14 miles at less than 7:50 min/mile pace. I was proud of him because that was the longest distance he had ever run, but was slightly disappointed that I wasn’t able to run with him during that last loop.

I had wanted to reward myself with a bowl of Pinkberry frozen yogurt at the end of the run, but only had enough energy to eat some plums, wash up, and go to bed. Running can be very humbling indeed, especially when you don’t use your head. Never again will I attempt a long run with a flu or fever again!