I love this time of year because it’s the perfect time to get out on the trails for a view of the fall colours. Now the kind of trials I am speaking of are not the conformist trails that have been man made by some city planners, ( having said that, I must say that Ottawa has an awesome city centered trial system ). What I am talking about is going “off road” in a big way.

I recently completed the inaugural run of “Chase the Coyote” sponsored by our local running community. It was a trail run staged at Mono Cliffs Provincial Park, with proceeds going to the Dufferin Hi-Land Bruce Trail club to assist with trail maintenance and improvement. Over 200 runners completed various distances from a 5k sprint to a challenging 14k loop. Some of the features of this course included cliffside trails, roller coaster single track, fast double track, switchbacks, slopes, and stairs…and an awesome view including the wonderful colours of fall.

I have been running trails for a number of years, and find it a nice break from the flat pavement of a road race.  Trail running can really help your training too because the uneven terrain forces you to use different muscle groups, and helps with balance and mental focus.

Having said that, common sense and a respect for your situation is strongly urged. Trail running can be a wonderful experience but …the potential for injury or other difficulties is increased exponentially. I repeat …THE POTENTIAL FOR INJURY OR OTHER DIFFICULTIES IS INCREASED EXPONENTIALLY !!!

If you are new to the whole concept of taking your runs “off road” then there are a number of things to consider, as well as some rules to live by …literally.

1. Never, Never,  Never, Never run alone… there is the potential for injury and the unexpected…it’s always better to have others to help you should you roll and ankle or take a tumble.  Always try and run with an organized trail running group.
2. Start out small, and I do mean baby steps, before you invest in a pair of “ATV” style trail shoes, try a few short runs on a trail to see if it’s for you.  Contact your local running store for a trail running clinic.
3. Stick to well marked trails, conservation trails, or trails maintained and monitored by a park or trail association.
4. Walk your course first, making sure you get a good look at the lay of the land, the roots, the rocks, the cliffs, and any other technical element of the trail.
5. Please see item number 1.
6. Once you know the sport is for you, invest in a good pair of trail shoes. Trail shoes offer better support and tread for the trail … and are also a good option for winter running. Your local running store can find the right shoe for you…and the  matching left one too.
7. Take a map and a camera, not all GPS devices work as well in the woods due to canopy cover and trees. Make a note of your course, and pick obvious land marks so you don’t get lost. Take lots of pictures.
8. Never listen to music while you are running the trails.  You will want to hear the birds singing, the the beaver splashing in the pond, and more importantly the bigger angry, curious, or hungry wildlife that may be around.
9. Never approach wildlife, especially momma and baby… they will go to the limit to protect their young from a perceived threat ( namely… you ) and understandably so.
10. If you get lost…don’t panic…stop and get your bearings…if all else fails, double back the way you came in.
11. Take everything you need with you…including water, gels, a small first aid kit, cell phone, ( although not always reliable depending on the region ). Respect the trail and it’s beauty, do not leave any gel packs, water bottles, or garbage behind. Do no harm.
12. Dress in bright colours, you don’t want to blend in, especially during hunting season…’nuf said.
13. If in doubt, please see item number 1.
14. Be alert at all times, you may be sharing the trail with hikers, mountain bikers, and other trial runners…as well as the locals…aka wildlife.
15. Physical or mental fatigue are your worst enemies…stay alert at all times.
16. Run during daylight hours…you really want to see the trail…and the roots and stumps and anything else that could cause you to stumble or tumble.
17. Be prepared to offer assistance to anyone on the trail who may be in distress or injured…if it were you on the ground would you just want people to run past you…didn’t think so.
18. If you are registered for a big road race, I would recommend you not run the trails until after your big event…it would really suck if you have been training for months for a road race and have to pull out due to an injury on the trail…trust me…I’ve been there.
19. Adjust your stride / gate / cadence to the terrain… lifting your knees and focusing on a solid mid foot strike… make sure you are not dragging your feet, clear obstacles with room to spare. Swing your arms…your legs will follow.
20. Ya’ don’t forget item number 1.

Trail running is awesome…BUT…and I do mean BUT… trail running is mentally and physically challenging, and requires your full attention to the trail and your footing…take walking breaks, gather your focus on the trail and terrain. You are not going to run a trail to set a PB, but to embrace the challenge and be one with the woods ( figuratively speaking ).  It’s easy to get in the zone, and I mean the danger zone…roots, stumps, mud, rocks, and cliffs are all potential trip hazards.  Keep a clear head and watch your footing. Animals, and other potential hazards are abound…NEVER RUN ALONE.

A lot of people like to do training races in their lead up to key races.   It’s definitely a good idea.

Fair enough, but I think we should have the same definition for this to work properly, and since I’m the coach, my definition is the one we will use.

That said, I prefer to call them tune-up races, not training races.

To me, all races need to be viewed as rehearsals for the main event for which you are training.  That includes:

• Resting
• Pacing
• Nutrition
• Goal setting
• Dealing with the nerves
• Focusing before, during and after the race
• Objective assessment

Resting

Some people work well on lots of rest the day before a race, others work on a bit of rest the day before, others’ need to do something very short and intense.  You need to figure out what works for you.

Pacing

The negative split is when the second half of the race is faster than the first half.  If you go out slowly enough, this is not hard to do, but the time may not reflect your potential if you went too slowly.  Aim for 1-5 seconds per kilometer faster on the second half.  This is generally the least painful, but harderst to actually do.

The even split is when both halves are the same time.  To me, this implies you could have gone faster—you may have been holding back on the second half to get the even split and could have pushed a bit harder.

The positive split is the easiest of them all to do—go out hard and get slower as you go.  It’s quite natural.  However, there is a way to do it properly: plan where that slow down is going to happen.  Generally, you can use the table below to help you know how hard to go to positive split a race.

Another version of the positive split is the little known “I-know-I-can-go-this-long-at-this-pace-and-I’ll-almost-be-done-so-I’ll-suck-it-up-to-the-end” approach.  This option requires a lot of confidence and a true willingness to suffer, as well as an indepth knowledge of your level of fitness, mixed with a bit of optimism.

As an example, it could go like this: let’s say you’re a 50min 10k runner.  Based on training, you have a very good feeling that you can run 45min quite hard, but you know you can’t run 10k in that time.  So, you plan to run 45min hard, knowing you may or may not quite get to 45min still in one piece, but that you’ll at worst get to 42min.  All you have to do is hang on for a maximum of 8 minutes, right?  Who knows, you may get to 46-47minutes and not have to hold on for long at all.  You plan for it, and accept it.

Nutrition

Here, it really depends on the individual, because everyone is different.  However, there are some general guidelines that you should follow:

If you regularly have coffee, have your coffee

I have found it best to approach every race with the intent to do the best I can.  For example, if you go into an event with a ‘training pace’ mentality, you are giving yourself permission to back off if things get tough.  If you do that often enough, it becomes very easy to give yourself permission to back off.  When it comes time to really push in your major race, you’re not in the habit of pushing through the discomfort so you not only have to deal with the discomfort, but the urge to back off that you’ve given into previously.

However, if you view the event as a tune up race, you tend to take it more seriously and try harder, but don’t have quite the same pressure as you would if it was your key race for the season.

That said, your best effort is directly related to your set up before the race—if the race really is not that key, you don’t need to be 100% rested on the start line so you can train the days before.

The best effort comes into play when the warm-up starts and the gun goes off.

The training part is what you learn from the experience, both positive and negative, and how you deal with that new knowledge.

Examples of approaching things as training races my way are plentiful.

A few years ago, a client’s’ half marathon best time (set two years in a row, for that matter) was after riding 70k from Sharbot Lake to Kingston, with full intentions to ride back after the race (which he did).  There was no backing off there.

The first time another client broke 1:30 for a half marathon was also after a 70k ride from Sharbot Lake to Kingston.  Again, no backing down from the challenge.

Years ago, a whole gang rode 70k then did the Nordion 10k, woke up the next morning, rode 90k then ran the National Capital Half Marathon, all with very good results and not holding back anything they did not need to hold back.

My point is, when the gun goes off, blink and turn your focus on full tilt.  Do the best you can.  You never know what will happen.

The concept that each race is a learning experience can easily be extended to each and every workout (and by workout, I mean primarily interval/group workouts).  Each one is a reflection of the preparation for a race.

Additonally, when you are doing the interval work, you have to focus on what you are doing in the workout and notice/know how fast you are going so that you can translate that into a race.   For example, you have to know what it feels like to run your real 5k race pace in a workout so you can translate that over to the race. There is less of a benefit to running a workout and not focusing on how you are actually running, swimming or cycling the workout.

Realizing you have been running too fast for the previous kilometer or two is often too late.  The damage has been done.  The sooner you can correct poor pacing, the better your race will be, so if you can feel that the pace is too fast before the kilo markers, you can adjust before the damage is done, or at least limit it.

The Mind Game

The psychology of racing well, and to your potential, is theoretically very simple: stay relaxed, put your head down, pace yourself properly and go as hard as you think you can handle for the distance.  Focus on the race, your form, your body and not much else.

Yet it can also be very complex at the same time: it requires a good measure of self confidence and focus.  You can have too much or too little, or just enough.  If you have too much, things will be tough.  If you have too little, you may not achieve as much as you’d really like.  Finding the balance is key, especially when that balance point keeps moving 🙂

Having the right level of confidence means that you can say to yourself, “unless something drastic and unforeseen happens, I know I can do this, and since it would be drastic and unforeseen, therefore out of my control, I won’t think about it”.  The only questions to be answered after the gun goes off are how long it will take, and how long it will hurt for.

There are two big tricks in harnessing your confidence:

1)     setting realistic goals; and,

2)     having a healthy respect for the race itself.

In the first case, setting your race goals should be a realistic assessment of your abilities and the circumstances around the race.

• Ask yourself if you’ve done anything in training or previous races that justifies your goal.  An honest answer helps a lot.
• Ask yourself if everything is as it should be in your preparation: sleep, fuel, state of restedness, weather.  All these need to be factored in, but will also probably change from race to race..

In the second trick, not having a healthy respect for the challenge will get you in trouble every time.  Tell-tale signs of this are:

• Taking off at a ballistic or inappropriate pace.  We must all accept it is a race, and therefore it will be hard, at least somewhere along the line.  Realistic pacing will help to delay that discomfort, and a healthy respect for the race will insure you pace things properly.  In my experience, the fitter and faster I think I am, the less respect I have for the race, the higher my expectations and the easier I think the race is going to be, but the harder it is.  The less fit I am, the lower my expectations are and the harder I expect to work and the better the race seems to happen.  When I’m fit and expect big things, I tense up and go out too fast, then blow up.  When I do not consider myself race fit, I tend to be more relaxed, go out a bit slower and pace myself more appropriately.
• Lackadaisical attitude towards warm-up; and
• Lackadaisical attitude towards race day fueling.

Another point that comes to mind with respect to confidence and racing is that, at a certain point in the race, we all have a legitimate shot to beat the people around us, if we care to try.  Otherwise, they would not be around us.  If two people are still together far enough into a race, it’s a matter of toughness or tactics, and the challenge is on.  It’s up to you to accept it.  If you try to beat the person near you, successful or not, you will probably finish a bit faster than if you let them go.

Having this level of confidence also means there is no fear of failure, which allows for more risk and greater reward, if it works.  If it doesn’t work, you can try again next time.

Keeping the importance of race performances in perspective is also key: it is after all, only a race. Most of us do them for fun; no matter how much time and money we’ve invested.  If you fall apart and keep going, it’s a good and character building lesson.  Learn from whatever you did right or wrong.  Personally, I won’t drop out of a race out of respect for the people that are still behind me, unless continuing is risking my health.  As often as I’ve blown up in races or had bad days, I have not been able to bring myself to drop out knowing there are people out there almost half my speed that have the fortitude to finish.  I do know that if I don’t finish, I will still be me, I will still wake up the next day and the sun will rise.  It may be cloudy, but I can try again another day.

Every so often I get busy and overwhelmed and like to bury my head in the sand and pretend I’m living someone else’s uncomplicated life. My therapist would likely toss around some label like “denial.” I prefer to think of it in more positive terms such as “coping mechanism” or “survivalist technique.” The glass is always half full (of wine) around here. Except in the final week before a race, when I typically abstain from alcohol. It’s unfortunate when this dry period coincides with…life.

Here we are, two week after my last post – practically an era in social media terms. Right now this blog should be in the midst of adolescent angst, a breakout and telling me it hates me for embarrassing it, and yet it has barely left the toddler years.

Speaking of toddlers, has anyone ever thrown a birthday party for one? I just entered the world of planning and executing such an event, as the previous years were small, family-only affairs. Thanks to Pinterest, I’m led to believe that if I don’t create a buffet of options to cater to the most discerning of three- and four-year old tastes, I have somehow failed as a parent. So there I found myself at 3 a.m. the night (morning?) before the big day, creating multiple cupcake frosting flavours and colours, threading fruit chunks in rainbow patterns onto skewers, and carefully wrapping thoughtfully-chosen loot bags for a Muppet Show-themed party my little girl will probably not remember for more than a month or two,let alone during the aforementioned turbulent teenage years (not matter how long it took me to find a dozen Kermit, Miss Piggy and Animal Pez Dispensers).

In the past few weeks, we’ve also prepared our house for a major basement renovation and I’ve started a new part-time job. And we might have run a half-marathon somewhere at the end of it all.

To make a long story longer, life happened and didn’t always leave much room for other important things like blogging and training (and stretching!). I entered my race this past weekend, the popular Harvest Half marathon through the south end of Calgary’s Fish Creek park, feeling underprepared and just plain tired.

A few minor (but potentially longer-term) injuries meant that for the several weeks leading up to race day, I was doing only my long runs after my nine weeks of hill training sessions were complete. No mid-week steady runs, no speed work like last year. I had very low expectations for the actual event, which worked both for and against me. Because I was so busy, I was mostly distracted from the usual nerves and over-analyzing that plague the final days pre-race. However, I also had the sinking feeling that my lack of preparation meant I couldn’t even attempt to make this a PR no matter how good I felt the day of.

Yet once again 21.1k (mostly) zoomed by. I remember the warm morning air of a perfect race day; nervous, excited porta-potty line-up chatter; the crunch of fall leaves under my feet; feeling good until approximately the 16k mark when queasiness overtook me; trying to focus on, and get through, the final 5k stretch; unplanned walk breaks in the final three kilometers; the glorious sight of the inflatable finish line; screaming muscles in the last 50 metre sprint when you can’t think of stopping or slowing in front of such a large crowd of spectators/witnesses, even as your legs curse your every move; victory hugs from supportive parents and your excited (to see you) kids; celebratory coffee and bananas, and of course, a new piece of hardware to add to a growing collection.

I finished in a respectable 2:13:32, not terrible for five-and-a-half months postpartum, yet my slowest half-marathon race time of the three I’ve run. Despite that, I had envisioned myself running this very race throughout nine long months of pregnancy, should I be healthy, strong and rested enough. And as someone who doesn’t always plan ahead and do the necessary work to achieve goals, this felt like a big accomplishment. Especially when I remember the struggling breaths and terrible nausea of my first short 3k run, on the May long weekend, six weeks after giving birth.

And now the past few weeks of stress and preparation and celebration all sort of blur together, which most parents tell you is a fairly normal aspect of early parenthood. However, I am just grateful at this point to have a few vivid memories of the experience – a deep breath somewhere around 6k that smells like fall crispness; deeply inhaling the scent of my daughter’s clean hair a couple nights before the race, as she meshes her fingers through my own hair at bedtime and declares “I cuddle you mommy” amid my exhaustion; a small leap of excitement seeing smiling, chubby cheeks at the finish line and the feeling of my medal crushing against my chest as I squeeze my two babies against me. They don’t know what I’ve just done – they’re just happy to see mommy.

My PR can wait until next year.

The following is a guest post from So you want to run a marathon, eh? runner Ryan Travers.
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Here I am, two weeks away from running my first marathon, thanks to iRun and the So You Want to Run a Marathon Eh? program.  My wife and I are proud of me sure, but what have I really learned.

1. Let’s begin with the actual training.  I have learned that, with focus, dedication and some accountability you can and will improve your running.  I’m really glad this turned out to be true because I tell the high school cross country and track athletes I coach the same thing every year but know I can point to myself as proof.
2. I have learned that it really is difficult to train properly for a marathon without the support of a loving partner who is willing to massage my sore legs and blistered/calloused feet after leaving her alone with an 8 and 6 year old for 4 plus hours.
3. I have made two new friends without whom I would never have been able to get through the arduous training, especially on the very hot and humid days of mid-summer.  That’s right, you may know them, Gold Bond and Body Glide.  Our relationship is a deeply personal one on many levels.
4. I have learned that it takes a very long time to go from blood blister under the toenail to the actual time the toenail falls off.  Three weeks and counting.  My kids do love the fact that I can lift the edge and they can see underneath “all the way to the back.”
5. Finally, I have learned to be careful what you wish for.  While a marathon was not really on my bucket list, my wife thought it would be funny if I filled out the application when the call went out to the Gear Test Team.  Since she has done a marathon before I thought I would humour her.  Imagine my surprise when I was selected.

All of these life lessons in about 10 weeks. I can honestly say I don’t regret it one bit.  I have met several new runners (albeit over Facebook) who are all first-timers and who I can’t wait to meet.  I have gained valuable insight into coaching which I am applying to my cross country team as we speak and soon (if all goes well) I will be able to say I’ve accomplished something very cool.  Thank you very much iRun for this opportunity.  See you in Toronto.

“Peroneal tendonitis” he said, “hopefully, not a stress fracture, too. Time will tell”.  I recall asking him, weakly, “how much time?”

“Two weeks, no running and make ice your best friend” and he didn’t mean ice, as in “on the rocks”.

As he adducted and abducted my foot, ankle and leg, his words echoed in my head. Tears slipped from my eyes. Nausea gripped my stomach and panic coursed through my veins. My brain’s default setting, on a good day, is always the same “I need a drink to handle this”, when faced with adversity, the passing thought becomes more of a fixation.

To a fly on the wall and to Glenn, my physiotherapist, I probably appeared to be ridiculous; shedding tears at the thought of two weeks off the road. I cope with emotion, any emotion, happiness, sadness, stress, anger, in one of two ways, I used to drink and now I run. If I can’t run to numb the intensity of my feelings, then bottoms up. The thing about my best friend, Coors Light, is that he’s always there for me, calling me, taunting me, tempting me. Without running as a source of comfort, distraction and support I become really nervous about my history with my old drinking buddy. All it would take is one moment of feeling pushed too far, to say screw it and take that first bittersweet guzzle, and we would be celebrating our long, lost kinship and time apart. This is only the beginning of the problem, because, while I wish time and again, that I could be like those of you who can have 1 drink and stop, I am not programmed like that. One drink is never the end, no matter how much I try to make deals with myself about having only one; enough therapy has made me accept on some very deep level that for me, my next drink will not be limited to a single; my buddy and I will be reigniting our special friendship.

I am stronger now than I was a year ago, and sobriety is not as fresh as it once was, which only means it doesn’t take as long for me to make the decision to turn the car around and head home instead of to the liquor store. Never the less, living without running for two weeks is torture for me, my husband, my kids, my co-workers, and the poor checkout lady. I can resort to “self-checkout” at the grocery store, but I cannot avoid all frustrating stimuli.   I am a miserable person on the edge of grouchiness without the soothing rhythm of the run. I could get all biological and mention endorphins and dopamine and their roles in the brain, but I’m not going to, maybe another time. The fundamental principal at work here is I need to feel good.  If a bottle or two of wine is out of the question, then I need to run, if I can’t run, I don’t feel good. If I don’t feel good, I want to drink…it’s a bit of a go around. Injury and rest come with high risk stakes. With constant thoughts of drinking, temptation is a burden I live with.

When I am at my weakest and temptation is strong, I stop and I ask myself…is my life better now or before I quit lushing the liquor? As much as I want an icy, cold beer, in my favorite frosted mug that reads “Christa”, on the front, I am quick to answer myself by admitting my life is better than ever. I love my life more than I love to drink. I love to run more than I love to drink. I am committed to a good life.

My two weeks of rest did not kill me, but they tortured my husband. I am proud to report the tendonitis had cleared, there is no stress fracture and they are still wondering where I am at the beer store.

I have been running for over 20 years without the benefit of any technology. Well, that’s not entirely true..I often train with music and my trusty disposable watch, but aside from that, nothing else. I totally fought the temptation to jump into the world of the GPS enabled watch from they day they where first put on the market.

I mean, when I was looking at them (20 some odd years ago) they were the size of a laptop, they were complicated to program …(I’m talking VCR complicated) …battery life was questionable, satellite reception was inconsistent…and I just couldn’t justify the cost.  Besides, my training was going OK, I knew my race pace for the most part, and if I didn’t then it was just going to be yet another training run…

Fast forward 20 years…and the GPS enabled watch is much improved. They are a very reasonable size and weight, battery and satellite issues have been resolved, programming and tracking data is a snap, and the cost is affordable… so as a gift to myself on my 50th birthday I purchased a GPS watch…and now can’t see ever running without it.  It tracks my every step, logs my training, tells me when I am slacking off…monitors my heart rate, and is much easier to program than my VCR.