Hard Eight

Gamblers have a term for betting the dice will come up double fours in a craps roll. Hard eight. The odds are so enormous that the payout is huge. There's a great character study of a film by the same name, directed by Paul Michael Thomas. It stars John C. Reilly and Philip Baker Hall and Gwyneth Paltrow as a hooker with a heart of coal.

Hard eight is what I ran Sunday evening. For me, it was the first time in more than a year that I ran eight miles without stopping, and ran it at a sustained pace of about 10 minutes. Not bad considering I laid off running for a year and am being treated for a SI Joint inflammation, which was misdiagnosed alternatively as diskitis, lower disk protrusion and rheumatoid arthritis. It's an inflamed joint, and the anti-inflammatories I'm taking have knocked it down enough that for the last four weeks I've been able to run four times a week, with at least one big run thrown in the mix just to see if I can do it. I can do it.

The first few times were tough. I'd run two miles, rest, maybe walk a bit, jog over the causeway, rest, walk a bit, and do the same on my way back. Last week I managed to run over the causeway without a break, a full 3.7 miles. I stopped for a water break, stretched and ran back over the causeway, took one more water break, and then home.

After two days off, with about 240 miles of driving to West Palm thrown in, a barbecue, some kayaking, much beer drinking and a depressing night watching the Gators get torn to shreds by Bama, I was back home Sunday, doing the laundry and decided to lace up -- still running in my year-old-plus Brooks Adrenalines. I can safely say, without any doubt, after tonight that the spring is shot, and I need new shoes.

For some reason, I felt pretty pumped. Bouncing off the balls of my feet, shoulders back and cruising along pretty nicely, until some kid motored by me like I was standing still. I decided to push up my game. I leaned into the causeway incline and kicked it at the top, then settled into a nice amble on the decline. By the time I got to Douglas Park, I thought, why not go all the way to the four-mile point before turning around. Why not go the whole eight mile?



My second attack of the causeway was better than the first. I drove up that hill as hard as I could, and when I got to the top I pumped it before easing into a nice trot down the hill.

The rest of the run was mostly flat with little ups and downs, and it was getting on twilight. A nice time to be running when the weather turns cool enough here in Florida. So I just kept pushing myself, willing the piriformis to loosen up and quit acting like an old codger. I ran the last half mile or so balls out.

And I finished in under 90 minutes. Maybe even 80. I should get a watch. But that means I was running right around a steady 10 minutes for a whole eight miles without stopping, except for some water at the halfway mark.

For me that is a huge milestone on the road to recovery. I was lucky to plod through four miles in 40 minutes or longer when I started running again two months ago. Running eight miles in a little over 80 minutes is huge for me, and that is saying a lot. I mean, my best running time about three years ago was a 5k where I broke 23 minutes -- my best! I used to run seven miles in 54 minutes during workouts. My time at the half-way mark for the Space Coast Marathon was 1:52, and my pace for the entire run was 9:27, for a 4:07 finish.

 It's possible that three months from now, with a couple more steroid injections, ice packs, massage therapy, yoga  and chiropractics, I could be close to those old times. It's just as possible I may never hit that 9:27 pace again, but I'm not saying I can't do it, either.

Now, for something a little different, a great scene from Hard Eight, where the duelling Philips -- Baker Hall and Seymour Hoffman -- test their wills against each other over a craps table:

Open The Pod Bay Doors, Hal

OK. Right. I've been running on a regular basis for about five, six weeks now, and I think it's time to kick it into high gear. And by that I mean it's time to choose a training program for my next marathon.

It's been a year and several weeks since my last marathon, the grueling Tupelo marathon that blew out my SI Joint and caused piriformis pain so severe I couldn't run for a year. But after the start of my epidural treatments, my condition has improved dramatically. I've actually run one 9.5 mile run and I'm up to about 20 miles a week.

But that puts me in a dilemma when it comes to choosing a workout program. I've used Hal Higdon's Novice II and Intermediate I schedules for my first two marathons, and did pretty well by him (4:36 and 4:09, respectively). But where do I place myself now? Novice? Intermediate? Somewhere in between? Do I start at the beginning, jump in at week four or five, or what?

I ran a 4, and a 7.4, and tomorrow plan to run another 4. That would put me at something like week seven on Novice II, which calls for a 14-mile run Saturday. I don't know if I'm up for that yet. I may be ready for an 11-miler, and I've got the course plotted out already (my house to Melbourne Beach and back). Maybe I should look for the week where the longest run is 9 miles and jump in there.

Or, maybe I should see what other schedules are out there.

Runner's World has several training schedules depending on your level of experience for $29.95. They also have plans to break the 4 and 3 hour marks, as well as a plan for prepping for Boston. I think I'll pass on that until I know I can finish a marathon at all.

Running Times warns you right from the the start that its training schedule is tough, and just looking at it gave me leg cramps. Maybe after full recovery. Maybe after I actually finish a marathon!

State of the Art Marathon Trainng has a 19-week mileage buildup schedule leading right into the week of a marathon, strategies for injury prevention, a reasonable 18-week training schedule and other resources, like speed and strength workouts. And it's free! Sounds good, but I'm not sure.

So, I return to Hal. His programs are simple, easy to follow and don't require a lot of concentration. I figure I may as well start in at the Novice 2 level, starting at week one. It'll give me a chance to dial things back, and slowly work my way up to marathon level in 18 weeks -- just in time for the Disney Marathon!

Or I could just continue to run four, five days a week, increasing my mileage by about 10 percent a week, continue stretching and throw in some bike riding and swimming. I haven't made up my mind yet, but stay tuned. I will let you know.

Meanwhile, as I contemplate the universe of training plans available, let's listen to a real groovy, Grammy-winning version of "Also Sprach Zarathustra" by Latin Jazz artist Eumir Deodata:

Do The Hip Shake, Baby

I started running decades ago, before distance running became anywhere near as popular as it is today.

It was a more primitive time, before the Nike Waffle Trainer, before The Complete Book of Running, and before any of the magazines that line the racks of major book stores, magazines like Runner's World and Running Times.

Only crazy people and Olympic athletes ran marathons.

It was a much different time in 1973, the year I entered high school, the year my stepfather said, "You have to go out for a sport."

I'd been pretty good at baseball as a kid, so-so at basketball and really did not like football.

Plus, by the time I entered high school I had developed a sort of anti-establishment attitude toward team sports. They were uncool. As were marching band, proms, clubs and organizations of any kind.

But my high school guidance counselor, who also happened to be the school's cross country coach, suggested I try out for the sport. Actually, he said, I should just show up at the track infield and be ready to run. Cross country then had no tryouts, and the coach/guidance counselor was grateful for anyone who showed up.

Cross country had kind of an outsider mystique, a lone wolf status -- just you competing against your own best time, crashing through the woods in all kinds of weather and terrain. Rebels without a play book.

Up until then, the fanciest sneakers I'd ever owned were a pair of Converse All-Stars, which served as well for basketball as they did for tennis and gym class and running and bicycling. Think of them as primitive cross-trainers. Oh, well, I did have those baseball cleats from my Little League days but that was about it.

The coach said I had to get myself a pair of running shoes, and I thought and so I went out and bought my first ever pair of specialized shoes that were not traditional cleats or gym shoes.

I'd never heard of running shoes before (track cleats, sure). And there was not a lot on the market back then. The Nike Waffle Trainer hadn't been invented yet, and the Tiger running shoe was too expensive. But I remember the track stars at the 1972 Olympics wearing these crazy, red shoes. And the salesman convinced my step-dad those were the best for the money, so those were the ones we bought.

I'll never forget those Adidas SL 72s. Red suede-and-nylon tops with three-white stripes. A weird grippy white sole unlike any other with a slightly built-up heel, a pinched middle that followed the contours of a person's arch, broadened out at the ball of the foot and tapered at the toe. The shoe was snug, stable and fit like a, um, glove.

I loved them. I wore the hell out of them, slapping their spongy soles along the hilly, paved roads of Northport, NY, during practice and on my own.

There was no widely known manual for distance running, no Jim Fixx book on the shelves (The Complete Book Of Running came out in 1977). Only my guidance counselor coach to guide me.

His instructions abut running have stuck with me to this day:

•  Head up, shoulders back and hips tilted forward.
•  Sway those hips from side to side slightly and push off the balls of your feet. 
• Listen to the sound of your shoes hitting the pavement, like a snap or rim shot. 
• Don't pump your legs straight up and down like a soldier or marching band member.
• Don't drive down on your heels, for god's sake. 
• Let gravity guide you. 

My cross country coach was the closest thing I had to a guru, and I've done OK by him. I've never had a shin splint, IT band injury or seriously whacked out knees, which could be physiology and good genes as much as anything.

But I also never had any serious running injuries until last year. And that more likely was the result of normal wear and tear on a 52-year-old body, stress from a non-running back injury I'd received more than a decade before, and improper training before running a grueling marathon in 95-degree heat.

As I continue my rehabilitation, I tend to focus more on form than anything else. I feel myself sagging, or my shoulders drooping and my feet shuffling, and I remember those words of my coach. I snap my head up, throw my shoulders back,  and tilt those hips forward and suddenly I can hear that crisp staccato of my waffle soles hitting the pavement. And I'm right back where I started.

Now, watch this hip-shaking clip of the Rolling Stones rehearsing for Montreaux in 1972:

Rehab 101

So, now that I'm running again, and feeling better than I have in a year, I've got to resist the temptation to fall off the wagon so to speak, and go full out on my workout regime.


That's not to say I haven't pushed the envelope with a couple of longer runs, and one really serious workout this morning where I pushed up my pace, chugged up some hills and ran as hard as I could till I felt like hurling.


That being said, I realized that there are several really good rules to follow when recovering from an injury, especially the epic SI joint inflammation that I've been dealing with.


RULE # 1: Listen to your body. Respect its limitations. You can't just go from laying on the couch for a year to putting in eight-mile runs every day. Run your best, but when the piriformis pings or the knees ache, stop and stretch, walk a bit, and ease your way back into a comfortable pace.


RULE # 2: Drink. Lots. Of. Water. The muscles like water. They need to be bathed in fluid, according to an article read in a recent issue of Running Times magazine.For two hours after a run your body is still in recovery, even as the metabolic rate slows down, according to Julia Lucas. So drink up.


RULE # 3: Feed your body. You've just had an intense workout, and you've robbed your body of lots of nutrients as a result. I like taking a multi-vitamin after a tough workout.


RULE # 4: Take it easy. The hard part is over. Relax. Enjoy yourself. Do some gardening. Read a book.


RULE # 5: Treat yourself. After my nine-miler Thursday, I had a 15-minute deep tissue massage and a chiropractic adjustment. I allowed myself a full 48 hours to derive the benefit of that massage. The New York Times just reported on a study that shows one massage session can cause amazingly beneficial biological changes. As someone who had one of the most excruciating but most beneficial massages of my life, let me say, Om.


RULE # 6: Take your meds. I don't care what other doctors may have to say about the subject, but I'm a firm believer in a doctor-supervised medical treatment as part of any recovery program -- in moderation. The meloxicam (anti-inflammatory) I take every day works on the SI inflammation, along with the massage and the regular stretching exercises. If I need to take a tramadol or muscle-relaxer to ease that piriformis ping, so be it.


RULE # 7: Stretch. Always incorporate some kind of stretching as part of your recovery. I do a combination of yoga and physical therapy positions I've learned over the years. The worst thing you can do is sit around and stiffen up.


RULE # 8: Ice it down. If it aches, alternate ice with heat to reduce the inflammation. It works.


And now, "Body Rock," by Moby: