Super Bowl Invasion

Even as I turned the volume up on my mileage log to 11 on Saturday, my training is being hijacked by the excitement of Super Bowl XL coming to Detroit. I think this brief diversion will be a good thing. I was starting to become obsessed with running and everything that potentially could help my training. So much so that I found myself strangely interested in a recent televised marathon. I can't think of more boring event to televise than a bunch of bean poles running for two hours, but I was dialed in like it was actually Super Bowl Sunday. This of coarse is an entire week away, but that isn't stopping A-list celebrities, wanna-be-celebs, meekish lap-top hauling journalists, and jobless football fans from ascending on this often-over looked town. I've conceded the fact that others will be renting my training space for this week. I'm hoping for plenty of interesting stories to tell.

The first of which occurred on Sunday afternoon. My training partner and I were running up along our usual route on the river when we passed the large glass-encassed entrance to General Motor's world head quarters (locally known as the Ren Cen). I was immediately blinded by lights. Curious, we headed inside to catch the massive crew of ESPN setting up their broadcast of NFL Countdown. Chris Berman, Steve Young, Michael Irvin and Tom Jackson (all celebrities to ESPN junkies)were getting groomed and made-up while an army of cameramen and technicians were doing their thing. It struck me at this point that this game, this event, this production, known as the Super Bowl is going to be huge beyond my expectations. Keep your eyes on your television sets this week for a guy running past cameramen on the streets. From the number of them I saw on Sunday, getting on television shouldn't be much of a challenge.

Starbuck's Run

I'm not proud of it but I regularly succumb to the overwhelming power of the products peddled by places like Starbucks. The word coffee "junkie," is probably a bit strong, but so is the cup of joe I enjoy every morning. Coffee "snob" is definitely more accurate. Leave the cheap, watered-down stuff for Denny's, I want only the high-rent stuff.

I bring this up because recently I've been obsessing about nutrition. What should I, and should I not, be putting in my body so that it's able to stay powered for 4-5 hours? Part of this obsession involves evaluating my current nutritional habits. Caffeine tops the list of my concerns. Conventional wisdom says that caffeine dehydrates the body and is thus bad for a sport where hydration is important. But is caffeine really detrimental to marathon training? Should I find an alternative morning beverage? Will Starbucks be able to continue their world domination without me constantly filling their coffers?

I started with the nutritional labels on the back of the food containers. I tried to figure out if I was getting the daily recommended allowance of Chromium in my diet but instead learned that I'm way short on the amount of Panthothenic acid. I felt like I needed the periodic table just to get through breakfast. This drove me nuts. Ironically, nuts seem to be the only thing I eat these days, along with plates of green leafy things, dried fruit stuff that sticks to my teeth all day, and tasteless bark-like breads and grains. I digress. I also took a trip down memory lane to 9th grade biology class and tried to focus on what the Christian Brothers taught me (besides how to stunt social growth by attending high school with nothing but God fearing, pimple-faced boys)

Admittedly, I had to go to the bullpen for a little assistance. While there are conflicting studies regarding the significant effect of caffeine on improving performance for runners, very little evidence exists suggesting that coffee is actually inhibiting my training. Caffeine has two main effects on my body. First it acts as a stimulus to the central nervous system, hence the nervous twitching so often seen by law students in the weeks before their Torts exam. Second, it increases the mobilization of free fatty acids (FFA) into the blood. Bare with me here. As I run, my muscles use both FFA's and glycogen (from carbohydrates) as fuel. While most people have plenty of fat available for energy, our bodies begin to first burn glycogen during heavy exercise. Caffeine essentially permits our bodies to increase the use of fat as fuel, which will spare the limited glycogen stores during endurance events. I sort of look at it as driving a car that can burn off an extra gallon of gas stored in the tank, without being gouged by the oil industry. Are you still with me? The science geek in me finds this interesting. The geek in me is also reassured by the fact that the fine people at Starbucks won't have to fret about taking over the world. I'm on board baby.....make that a grande Ethiopian blend.....no room for cream.

Double Digits

I broke into the double digit mileage on Saturday morning with a group run of 10 miles. Had I arrived at Kensington Metro Park on time, I would have actually run with a group, but instead I arrived unfashionably late and attempted to play catch-up spotting the rest of the crew a half hour. The park and its 8-mile loop around frozen Kent Lake, provided the most serene and picturesque environment I've had an opportunity to run in. A light snow the previous night blanketed the trees and made for numerous post card moments. I even saw a couple soaring hawks looking to brunch on some critters. I made it through the 90 minute run without once stopping at a red light, breathing bus fumes, or being flagged down by a transient in search of a buyer for his half-drunken bottle of juice (all or which occurs on a regular basis). While I've had a blast running through the city, it was a welcomed relief for a change of scenery. I've found that many of the common complaints about training in freezing temperatures have merit. Many of these complaints are often coupled with my own musings about why it is that I live in Michigan and endure 6 months of winter. Saturday's absolutely gorgeous run, put to rest, at least for 90 minutes, these thoughts. I was bummed that I didn't have a camera on hand to share some of the sights. I'm not bummed, however, about the fact that my body feels surprisingly good. I've got some thoughts about that that I'll share a little later.

Detroit Music Keep Me Runnin'

Rarely do I leave my apartment for a training run without music to help me along. Regardless of my mood, energy level, stress level, or general physical condition, I can always find some tunes that fit just fine. As I run through the streets of Detroit, I'm also running through a city with a rich and diverse musical heritage. Even before Motown Records hit its hey day in the 1960's, Jazz, Gospel and Blues music filled the streets, churches, ballrooms and clubs and influenced popular music for decades to come. Similarly, rock 'n roll, funk, techno, and rap all have significant roots in this city. I could write volumes about these roots, but the important thing is that all of this music is helping me through my training. As a tribute to Detroit's musical heritage, the following is a list of home grown songs for my various running moods****

Marvin Gaye - "Ain't No Mountain High Enough": For when I'm feeling as if nothing is going to stand in my way. Inclement weather, muscle and joint pain, work stress, late night partying, or even hills that seem like Detroit mountains.

Bob Seger - "Against The Wind": This song is appropriate every time I turn around to head back home along the river. It's also the same time that I stop enjoying what I earlier believed to be a fairly comfortable run.

John Lee Hooker - "I'm bad, Like Jesse James": A bad day at work might bring out the surliness in anybody, runners included. I may be feeling the blues, but I'm not going down without a fight. If I lose the fight, "One Bourbon, One shot and One Beer" might be next on the jukebox.

Parliament Funkadelic - "Agony of DeFeet": Funk will make even the meekest want to move and groove, but funk most accurately describes the foulness of the inside of my running shoes. One whiff, and you'll experience the agony.

Aretha Franklin - "Ain't No Way": -15 degree wind chill, sleet and rain. The Queen of Soul's got that right. I'll learn to R.E.S.P.E.C.T the treadmill.

James Carter - "I Can't Get Started": When I'm running low on fuel and just can't seem to get the engine turned over, a little saxophone melody from this Detroit star often sparks a flame.

The White Stripes - "Dead Leaves and The Dirty Ground": Jack White can play a mean guitar, but he can't do nothin' about the six months of winter that so often turns our city's streets into a slush-filled mess of dirt and grime. I even ran by their favorite Hotel Yorba and confirmed that "all they got inside is vacancy."

The Temptations - "I Wish It Would Rain": Hey!, Motown isn't cold all year round. In fact, the summer months can be just as nasty with humidity that rivals the inside of my not-so-breathable windbreaker after a 9 mile run. Papa may have been a rollin' stone, but Papa needs a little relief from the heat too.

Juan Atkins - "Magic Tracks: Deep Detroit" (album): Along with Kevin Saunderson and Derick May, this trio of Techno pioneers will not only keep me moving, but with the bass turned up on my MP3 player, my ears will be thumping hours after the run.

****Disclaimer: This list is in no way intended to be exclusive. Apologies if I left off any favorites. I had to make some difficult cuts for the sake of genre, era, and gender diversity. I welcome your own additions in the comment section.

In Rememberance of MLK

"I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and nonviolent redemptive goodwill will proclaim the rule of the land.

Most of these people will never make the headlines and their names will not appear in Who's Who. Yet when years have rolled past and when the blazing light of truth is focused on this marvelous age in which we live -- men and women will know and children will be taught that we have a finer land, a better people, a more noble civilization -- because these humble children of God were willing to suffer for righteousness' sake."

--Martin Luther King Jr. (Nobel Price Acceptance, December 1964)

War, hatred and injustice too often drown out the goodwill that human beings so often spread. I'm hoping that each dollar that I raise, with each mile that I run, another victory will be logged in the goodwill standings. It may be that the blazing light of truth seldom focuses on the good. Whether it those who fight cancer, injustice, evil or violence, I hope that these pages cast some of this light on these "humble children of God." While far from the headlines of the New York Times, I write today in honor of MLK, his mission, and all who practice goodwill. I look forward to running throughout the finer land, better people, and more noble civilization that Dr. King envisioned.

Don't Gouge Me!

Detroit's Campus Martius Park (August, 2005)

The past four years I've used the streets, alleys, parks and sidewalks of the city of Detroit as my personal training ground. The past two months I've grinded out on a nearly daily basis training runs through the best and worst areas of this town. In the process I've witnessed the slow demolition of the 1915 Statler Hotel, Lofts and condos shoot up where blight and neglect once reigned, and the newly constructed Campus Martius park bring life back to the heart of downtown and excitement to my daily training runs. I've run past patrons of Orchestra Hall in black tie attire on the same block as the homeless and peddlers shouting words of encouragement. Today, I'm watching as the city cleans itself up and puts some makeup on for company as thousands of tourists will flood the streets for Super Bowl XL at Ford Field. I've been able to cover more ground and explore the unseen urban landscape by exchanging my car keys for a pair of Brooks running shoes. This has given me a unique sense of ownership for a place I roam about logging mile after mile.

This feeling of ownership, however, found its limits yesterday afternoon. Returning to work in the middle of the day, I found that the parking garage I routinely park in was full with Auto Show attendees. I was forced to explore the city in search of cheap and available parking. Each attempt was thwarted by a "lot full" sign until I finally found a familiar paved lot in Greektown. It was patrolled by some guy in a little booth. I found an open spot, parked and began walking toward the booth to pay. "How long you stay," barked the guy as if I was ruining his day. I told him I needed to park the rest of the day. He then demanded that I leave his lot. He claimed that his lot was for short term parking only. The sign on his booth read $5 per day, all day. Despite his blatant dishonesty, I inquired how much it would cost to park "short-term." He insisted $15 was a fair price, used some colorful language, and threatened to call the police if I didn't move my car.

I was being gouged by some sleazy crook, on the same street that I routinely use for training. Had my running shoes been on hand, I could have ditched the car, and simply run back to work. Instead I was forced to concede defeat and give up ownership of the pavement I wished to temporarily use. The same pavement I've pounded over 100 miles on already. As I walked in my dress loafers nearly a mile back to the office, I thought about what had happened. In my running shoes I have the ability to travel and explore this city without limitation. No parking meter, road block, construction barrel, or one way street sign can stop my run. Without them, I'm forced to drive, take a bus or ride a bike and succumb to other people's rules about where I can and cannot go. There is a certain amount of freedom with my training that I'm starting to truly appreciate. I'm not a tourist. I don't have "short-term" business in this city. I've got 26.2 miles to complete without the aid of a gasoline powered engine. I plan on using this city's streets, alleys and lots for the next three and half months. So, I'll leave my car keys behind and hope that my slimy friend in the booth doesn't re-attempt to get in may way. He may find a size 12 foot print on his chest if he chooses to do so, because I'm not stopping.

High on Running?

This past weekend I trotted the longest run of my training: just a tad under 9 miles. Somewhere between mile 6 and 7 I began to feel oddly comfortable. Not only was the aches of muscle stiffness gone, but I felt like I had actually gained energy. This got me thinking. I've always heard stories about runner's experiencing some sort of "high" or euphoric feeling during their training. I've always dismissed these stories as nothing but urban legends. Rarely do I see a runner with a look of pure satisfaction on his/her face to ever suggest that they are enjoying euphoric bliss. Most have a look suggesting anything but.

So why was it that after an hour of running and 6-7 miles of pounding on my legs, did my body start to feel like I could easily go another hour? Was I just having a good day? Was their something funky in my Fruity Pebbles? or could it be that I was actually experiencing this mysterious "runners' high." Again, I employed my trusty research assistant to help sort this out.

I learned that there are actually biological and psychological aspects of this feeling that can be explained with scientific mumbo jumbo. Years removed from both biology or psychology, I'll do my best. Apparently, when the human body is put under physical stress the mind naturally reacts. When a person runs, obviously, the body is put through a certain degree of stress. The discomfort that I initially feel upon beginning a lengthy run causes my brain to release a naturally produced opiate protein called "endorphins." (See Tim Noakes, MD, Lore of Running, (Champaign, Illinois: Leisure Press, 1991). The more stress I put on my body, the more endorphins my brain begins spitting out. A higher resistance to pain and a more sedated emotional state are affects of this natural narcotic. I guess the chemical properties of these endorphins is similar to those present in morphine. (See Medical Dictionary) Morphine? No wonder I was feeling good. Now if I can only figure out how to bottle this endorphins stuff, I could become a very popular member of Team In Training. If not more popular, at least a heck of a lot less grumpy.

Stubborn Rocky

Now the doctor came in stinking of gin
And proceeded to lie on the table
He said Rocky you met your match
And Rocky said, doc it's only a scratch
And I'll be better, I'll be better doc as soon as I am able

--"Rocky Raccoon" - The Beatles

I hate to beat a dead horse about the recent "issues" with my legs, but the past couple training runs have got me thinking about whether stubbornness is such a good idea for runners. In the midst of these thoughts, McCartney began crooning his unfortunate tale of Rocky Raccoon (White Album) into my MP3 player. After his woman left him for another man, Rocky pig-headedly refused to accept his loss and swore revenge. He headed off to the local saloon, tossed back a few whiskies, and challenged his rival to a duel. But his rival had a quicker draw and got the best of the showdown. Even on his death bed, Rocky refused to accept his fate and stubbornly ignored his doctor's advice to admit defeat.

I'm not attempting to analogize Rocky's situation with my recent running issue, but there is a slight parallel to be made. Rocky's stubbornness lead to his demise. In any sport I've ever competed in, I've been reluctant to admit injury and risk being pulled from the competition. Admittingly, this stubbornness could similarly lead to my marathon demise. But in all of these sports I've had a coach, manager, referee or some other executive power who made the ultimate decision regarding me playing or sitting the bench with an injury. Never did I voluntarily take myself out of the game because of a "scratch." I understand, however, that these decisions were always made with my best interest in mind. With this sport, it's just me and my stinky feet that are deciding what's in my best interest. I have a feeling that Rocky Raccoon wouldn't have made it through the five month marathon training schedule. I'm keeping this in mind as I continue my own showdown with the hard concrete roads. I'll also continue to take care of my body so that I too don't meet my match.

New Year, New Legs

I apologize for the obscure Seinfeld reference, but last night I felt like George Costanza after his taste explosion bite of mango. "I'm back, baby! I'm back!" he yelled triumphantly, as he realized that he was indeed back in the game. I officially took myself off the disabled list last night after a four-mile jaunt resulted in pain-free shins and ankles. The truth is, I never really disclosed the fact that I benched myself. I was hoping the hype of the holidays would overshadow my need for a five day break. I've always had a certain degree of fear in telling others that I was hurting. Beside this stubborness......rest, streching, icing, heating, and tiny pills appeared to have done the trick. I was seriously concerned that the team would have to pluck a replacement from the minor leagues to fill my roster spot. Call it effective treatment, luck, good karma.....whatever. 2006 is starting out well. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a giant bowl of mango to dive into.