Hank and I went for an hour long walk last night. It was warm, and he enjoyed it more than I did. Our lives are similar lately. His is all about the walk. Mine seems to be all about the run. When you ask him if he wants to go for a walk, he wags his tail, his heart races, he gets short of breath, and bounces up and down with wide eyes as if to say, "Dude . . . I cannot . . . control this . . . You said . . .  WALK . . . and . . . THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS!!!" Lately I feel the same way about running. Florida summers are too hot and I run too far to take him on runs, but walks are perfect.
 
We went again this morning for an hour. It's supposed to be a "day off" on the program, but I'm determined to work out this Achilles thing. The alarm sang at 4am, and I hit snooze. My eyes opened at 4:30, realizing the alarm wouldn't be reminding me again that it's time to awaken. I kissed my wife, forced my feet onto the floor and hobbled down the stairs. My first several steps in the morning are with stiff ankles, since both Achilles are incredibly tight out of bed. I again wondered if I'll run this thing in October pain free, accepting I probably won't.

I did a pre-run yoga routine (thanks to YouTube) and pulled things together before walking upstairs to get Hank. Laying peacefully on the bed, I whispered in his ear, "Want to go for a walk?" and BAM! he went from zero to four legs in half a millisecond. Hank's excitement elicited a giggle from my semi-sleeping wife. I kissed her again on the forehead, then Hank and I were out the door.

It was an uneventful walk. I sped to a jog a few times to test the legs (although I'm not sure using a form of the word "speed" is appropriate to describe what I did this morning). They were tight - as expected. The left shin and the right Achilles were stressed and sore. When I extended my stride the pain in the right Achilles sharpened so I kept strides short. While walking I lengthened my stride to stretch the calves. It provided small relief, but tightness remained. Near the end, I tried something new. A half mile from home, I started lifting my knees up high. Stretching between runs has focused on calves, hips, hamstrings, and groin - but very little on the quads. Amazingly, loosening my hips and quads with the high knees somehow caused the pain and tightness in my right calf / Achilles to disappear. It was a fragile peace, but it was peace. I tried skipping with a high knee, but the extension of the "launch" leg caused sharp pain to return - so I stuck with just raising knees high.

On Saturday when I returned from my 13.1 mile experience on the West Orange Trail, my wife tried to cheer me up by telling me how far I've come, and how much I'm learning about my body. She's amazing. Aside from all she's fought and won, and her incredible looks, she's also incredibly sweet and very smart. That's not sucking up to one of my only readers. These are things I tell her every day. In this case, she's right about how much I've learned about how my body responds. Brett Klika first showed me how the muscles of the lower body are all intertwined with the tennis ball trigger point pressure on the bottom of the foot, calves and butt. But I never thought of a connection between the quadriceps / hips and the calves. Checking the Internet, I'm not finding anything linking the quads and the calves, but I know what I experienced this morning. The lesson this morning is the ENTIRE lower body needs to be kept loose because it's all linked together.

This week will continue with an aggressively conservative approach. That means something new every day throughout the day, but keeping off the road until this Achilles / calf issue is solved. I draw strength from a memory of my mom's friend in Alaska who ran the New York City Marathon after training exclusively on a Stairmaster in the early '90's. I remember meeting her at the gym while visiting my mom and stepfather in Anchorage soon after Christmas just after finishing college. The next time I saw her was from a distance the following November as she ran by the spot where my roommate and I were stationed on First Avenue watching the marathon a half block from our apartment on the Upper East Side. This week, I'll adjust the time spent on my Stairmaster routine to assume 10 minutes per mile for the distance I should be running instead of relying on the Stairmaster to determine the distance. That means rather than run three miles tomorrow on the Stairmaster, I'll run thirty minutes. Stretching will be a constant presence in the day, along with some strength training at the gym and while I'm in my office.

I'll continue getting comfortable being uncomfortable. And the pain I feel over the next couple months will NOT be from quitting. It'll be from fighting through this to get to the end.

Yesterday I ripped July off my desk calendar and wondered, “Where did the month go?” All this talk about working with kids to accomplish great things, and I feel hypocritical. We talk about awareness, living in the moment, using what you accomplish to gain confidence to accomplish more. All that, and I didn’t pay attention to everything happening in July. At the beginning of the month, the long run for marathon training was nine miles, and I was having some trouble with both calves and Achilles. Yesterday, the month of August began with a 13 mile run, but not without pain.

I ran the Orange County side of the West Orange Trail, and convinced myself I’d nail it. After all there are almost no hills and I was running far earlier than the week before, thus avoiding the heat. The run started nicely. It was cool and dark, and the warm up portion going nice and slow. The right Achilles groaned at me, but loosened up around the second mile. There were more runners than bikers at first, but as the sun rose more bikers hit the trail. Around the third mile, my upper right Achilles started tightening again. I continued my Clydesdale pace, plodding through Winter Garden and north along the West Orange Trail. The calf continued tightening at the halfway mark. After stretching it a bit, I started walking back, then running slowly.

At that point, I recalled the story of Pheidippides. It’s his experience following the Battle of Marathon where the Greeks defeated the Persians in 490 BC upon which the marathon race is based. Following the battle, Pheidippides ran the entire distance between Marathon and Athens to announce the victory, at which point he collapsed and died. This is the part that rattled in my head. He died. And he was a trained soldier. I am NOT a trained Greek soldier. We’ve previously deduced I’m not even an athlete. Yet I’m voluntarily running a race the distance of which is based upon the experience of a trained Greek soldier who dies after running it.

I also recalled the story of Achilles. And we all know what happened to him when he injured the tendon joining the heel to the calf. For those who don’t know, he died too. Granted, he died from a poisoned arrow. But he died.

I never really feared for my life. Nor do I think I'm seriously risking my life by running this thing. After the halfway point yesterday, I did contemplate the challenges over the next two months. First and foremost, to run a marathon I must get my Achilles healed (pun intended). Four weeks ago both calves / Achilles tendons caused problems. The trouble alternated back and forth between right and left at different times – so correcting this is possible. The biggest challenge is healing while continuing to work my body to the point of running 26.2 miles. And I need to run it in less than six hours. That’s when they shut down the course. In the beginning of training, I thought it’d be great to finish in less than four hours. Right now I’ll be happy to finish before everybody packs up to go home. While hobbling back, I did the math. To finish the marathon in under six hours, a runner needs to average under 13:42 per mile. From where I sit right now I’d be happy with that, which is a little bothersome.

Four times I’ve trained for a marathon. I never completed training because I’ve either pushed myself too hard too early and injured myself, or I gave up because of conflicts on my calendar. I’ve never made it as far as I’ve made it now in training, and I know my body better now than I did then. On the run back, I figured if I keep the pain as tightness and prevent it from turning sharp and stabbing, I can recover.

What could have been done differently over the past couple weeks? There are two differences between this past week and the week before. The first of those weeks, my legs weren’t stressed from running twelve miles. Also the first of those weeks, considerable time was spent stretching and caring for my legs. This past week that didn’t happen – and it should’ve because of the 12-mile run. There was a false sense of progress. After all, I just ran twelve miles. I’m going to do this thing. I’m unstoppable.

When I was younger and more arrogant, I remember watching older men running slowly. I’d think, “They CAN’T be getting anything out of that. Why don’t they push themselves a bit harder?” As I grew older, I appreciated and respected the effort. They were doing something most people weren’t doing, and many weren’t able to do. Now, I am that man running slowly. While running slowly yesterday (and walking), I took great pride doing something many can’t on a sunny trail, training for something bigger than myself.

Yesterday was a beautiful day. It was cooler than last week. And while the run ended with less confidence and bravado than it started, it was still a beautiful day. And tomorrow will be another one.

Three miles in the gym on the Stairmaster. Today I realized it’s not actually a Stairmaster, but a stepping machine built by Lifecycle. My calf felt pretty good today. The one difference is I applied KT tape yesterday. That stuff is AMAZING. I haven’t run with it (other than today’s gym experience), but within 5 minutes of putting it on my calf, the pain in my Achilles disappeared. As a result, I was tempted to hit the road but decided to play it safe and save up for thirteen miles on Saturday. Thirteen miles. Wow.

I started two hours later than I hoped, and realized I’m a hypocrite. I’m preaching to the kids the importance of setting good habits by first realizing what’s important to you. And I’m not practicing what I’m preaching. A few small changes can ave an amazing impact, and I need to make those changes. Writing down goals and plans is INCREDIBLY important. It’s a proven approach. While I’ve been telling that to the kids, I haven’t been practicing it myself.

Overall, the single greatest flaw in the program so far is consistency. I’m putting in the work, but it’s not at the same time which affects the rest of the day. It involves planning things the night before so everything is ready. It involves getting enough sleep. It involves getting the feet on the floor once the alarm goes off, and not THINKING. Just do.

It’s a new month. The second month of the quarter means new resolutions for the month of August. My goal for August is to complete a 16 mile run without stopping. The plan for getting there involves a focus on sleep and set routines. The challenge this month includes dealing with the beginning of school for the kids – which means finishing my runs by 6:30am. That’ll mean once the Wednesday run increases to 10 miles, I’ll need to start somewhere around 4am to be certain I complete it. I should start that time anyway – which means waking up at 3:30am and preparing the night before. Starting tonight, I’ll write down what I accomplished, the goals for the week, and the plan for the next day. Immediately upon waking, I’ll stretch and make coffee, get dressed, and start whatever workout I planned.

Tomorrow is an “off” day on the marathon training program, which means I’ll get up and do yoga. YouTube has been a blessing with several “Yoga for Runners” routines out there that do the trick. It’s more difficult to shut out the world when at home, but that just means more focus.

That’s boring. Consistency is boring. Being a hamster on a wheel in the gym is boring. But getting results is not boring. In order to deliver on my “Wait, wait, watch THIS” approach to life, consistency needs to be at the heart of what happens. That’s true with the marathon, and every other goal. Habits, habits, habits. Get better every day.