Today was a three mile run. What I learned . . . I have to stop pushing myself. It’s a bad habit. After getting all full of myself for running twelve miles over the weekend, I thought, “This is three miles. Easy peasy. Time for a personal RECORD!” Well . . . that didn't happen.

I also learned I need to start my runs well before the sun comes up, and get enough sleep. Florida summers are brutal if you’re spending time outside on the road. The movie 42 ended around 11:30 last night with my wife and youngest son while my daughter slept on the couch. That voice said, “Spend time with family. This is nice, even if you are going through e-mail on your computer.” I was up at 6am. Applying the 7-hour rule, that isn’t enough sleep for a normal night, not to mention when training for a marathon. The later you take, the hotter it's going to be.

When I’m not running, I work with kids in my spare time. Lately, I’ve been working with a summer program serving disadvantaged kids in downtown Orlando on a goal-setting program called Achieve YOUR Dream! The kids learn how to achieve ANYTHING in the world they want. Within the program, we work on the stories we tell ourselves. We work on the words we use – the stories themselves – and the tone we use to tell them. One of the keys to achievement is being able to control the voice that tells your stories – control WHAT the voice says and HOW the voice says it. Up to this point, we’ve discussed two voices. The STRONG voice tells you to conquer the world, move faster, and that you’re invincible – and it’s done in a firm, convincing fashion. The weak voice tells you to stay in bed, play a few more video games, the workout you’re doing hurts and you should stop, and overall just slow down and relax. The intent is to increase awareness of which voice is speaking to them, and to make sure the STRONG voice kicks the weak voice’s ass every day. To continue to push. To challenge yourself like you’ve never challenged yourself before.

Ironically, it’s my STRONG voice that creates trouble with my training. Counter intuitively, I have to use the STRONG voice to throttle back the intensity of my running. Using the “heart rate strategy” where you keep your heart rate at 180 bpm less your age, I’ve been working hard to keep it at 135 bpm. That voice YELLS at me, “C’MON, you HAVE to be more DISCIPLINED than THIS!!! Slower. You aren’t 30 years old. KEEP IT AT 135 bpm!”

On Saturday’s 12-mile run, I did a decent job of keeping it around 140 bpm for the first half. The second half, it was tough to keep it under 150 bpm because of the heat. It was because of that discipline that I finished twelve miles in really good shape. Hot and sweaty, but limited pain in my calves and Achilles. Tight in the quads, tight in the calves and feet, but overall I was very happy given the problems I’ve been having with my lower legs.

Today was supposed to be 3 easy miles. I salivated, thinking “I just ran twelve miles. This will be AWESOME and EASY! I should NAIL this with an old man PR for 3 miles” (my lifetime PR for 3 miles is at a 6:18 per mile clip). That’s when trouble came back to town. No new old man PR. And my right Achilles is back to being a problem. I needed a third voice to speak up. The Voice of Reason, which is a voice of maturity, needs to temper the enthusiasm of the STRONG voice. The STRONG voice should only come into play when the weak voice starts to talk. My heart rate hovered around 155 bpm for most of the run.

Tomorrow, it’s back to the gym to push my feet up and down on the Stairmaster for six miles. This weekend is thirteen. And time to control the voices a bit better.

It's all about training for Chicago. And it's about beating breast cancer. Since I forgot to take a picture on my run this morning, you get a photo of a glass representing the best team in the history of professional football (and the venue for the marathon in October), and a couple tidbits representing the cause.

About those tidbits . . . earlier this week, I ordered some bandanas to protect my newly shaved head. Amazon had a few good deals, so I ordered a mixed batch of twelve regular bandanas, a pink camouflage bandana (not sure where I'd need to be for a pink camouflage bandana to help), and of course a bandana of the Mexican flag. Or so I thought.

My mixed batch and the Mexican flag should arrive early next week, according to Amazon shipment tracking. The pink camo bandana arrived yesterday. I opened the package to find I didn't order one pink camo bandana. I ordered twelve. I gave one each to my two youngest kids, and one to my wife. For the rest, I'm thinking I'll have a nine bandana rotation for my runs, and then I can auction them off after the marathon. All proceeds will benefit Susan G. Komen. I should be able to raise at least $3 or $4. What'll likely happen is I'll lose eight, and keep one ratty bandana as a souvenier representing the fun times training for the little October run in the heat of a Florida summer.

Florida summers. The stereotype of the south is the pace is much slower than the north. Having lived here since 2002, I now know why. It's the result of generations having lived here without the benefit of AC. If you're a bit warm up north, you get up and move. The breeze created by movement gives a little relief. Here in the south, movement just causes more sweat to form because the air is so full of water. No help at all, thankyouverymuch. So, people just didn't move unless they needed to move.

Today found me challenging myself in the Florida summer, having awakened an hour late. The temperature wasn't much higher, but the difference between ten miles in the sun, or not in the sun, is big. Not that I would know. I've never run ten miles before. I just assume so because running ten miles in the sun on the 13th of July in Central Florida was no fun.

What did I learn today (other than to get up earlier to avoid the sun)? Under the heart rate strategy, I can keep my heart rate where it should be (180 bpm less age) at a decent pace for about three miles. Between the third and fourth mile, I kept the pace and my heart rate popped up 15 bpm. From that point on, it was a challenge keeping the rate down. For the five miles out, things went well - with the sun in my eyes, and a little tightness in my right calf (previous problem had been my left calf, which was perfectly fine). When I made the turn at five miles, I had renewed energy and my pace quickened for about a mile. My heart rate shot 25 bpm higher than my target, and I struggled the rest of the return keeping it where it should be.

What else did I learn? Music is magic. That's not news. The musical selection on my iPhone is eclectic. The workout playlist for the gym injects a bit too much adrenaline into running when when trying to keep the heart rate down - but that's what was played. The Beastie Boys got in my head yelling, "Because you can't, you won't, and you don't stop" at just the right time. Doctor P assured me "It's gonna get, it's gonna get, it's gonna get louder / We're gonna get, we're gonna get, we're gonna get stronger / I gonna feel, gonna feel, gonna feel better". Rob Bailey kept the edge on things with "Hungry", reminding to "Focus on my own / Every day will test me / Nobody will ever fucking catch me / I live to be the best / This is all I got, this is all I got / I ignore the pain 'cause the pain will never stop / You're better than this, I'm better than this / You're bigger than this, I'm better than this."

Tomorrow is a cross training day. It'll be spent with my son on our tandem kayak catching big bass. Kayaking on a windy day in the summer is a workout, whether you want it to be or not. Next week is a "step-back" week. While the mid-week run will stay at 3-5-3 on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, Saturday's run will be 7 miles. The Saturday on the 27th jumps up to 12 miles. Just need to keep things loose. And keep the pink camo bandanas clean.

Today was a good run, but a late start. Five miles is still a long distance, and this week it shows up on my calendar on Wednesday. The training program I'm following has a mid-week long run and a weekend long run. The weekend long run is much longer, and builds up gradually over the months leading up to the marathon to twenty miles. The mid-week run increases every third week, topping out at ten miles. The good news is I set a new "best" with the five miles. Still not proud enough of that time to put it out there publicly, but there is improvement. I look forward to the day when five miles is like a walk in the park.

As I run, thousands of thoughts fly through my mind. Some of them center around what plays on my iPhone (coincidentally, today it was the audiobook Rapt which addresses the importance of focusing on the most important things to realize success). Some thoughts are on family-related things. Often, thoughts are about work. Most frequently, they're focused on the run.

So what about it? Where do those thoughts about the run take me?

Marathon coaches everywhere say to ignore the clock during your first marathon. Just focus on putting in the miles. Finshing is more important than beating a time. Being a competitor, that doesn't work. Having failed at four previous attempts to train for a marathon, I undestand the risks. Push too hard, and your body screams louder than the voice in your head telling you to "suck it up".

This time during training, there are three areas of focus. First, and most importantly, is distance. You have to log the miles. Don't log the miles, and you won't finish the training, and you won't run a marathon. It's that easy. Second, I'm watching my heart rate. The owner of a local running store suggested something he read; keep your heart rate at the same pace - 180 less your age. That puts me at 135 bpm. That doesn't work real well either as I'm used to pushing it to 175 bpm, but it's a good barometer as I see when I'm pushing myself harder than usual. Third, I can't help but watch the time. The initial part of the run, the focus is on whether the run will be too long and interfere with work. That theme is "worry," and that's not good. The last part of the run, the focus is on time, heart rate, and maintaining pace to keep minutes per mile down.