Business Decision wrote:
RunCzar wrote:
Who is Nate Jenkins? Not trolling, 157 mile week is pretty crazy for a person I’ve never heard of.
He beat Meb one time
That puts him ahead of most of us.
Business Decision wrote:
RunCzar wrote:
Who is Nate Jenkins? Not trolling, 157 mile week is pretty crazy for a person I’ve never heard of.
He beat Meb one time
That puts him ahead of most of us.
slowpost wrote:
Business Decision wrote:
He beat Meb one time
That puts him ahead of most of us.
True!
explainame wrote:
Couldn’t even hang with the Kandie Man and Co. for halfway through a half marathon.
One things for sure. He certainly doesn't have the candy the kandy man and his crew are supplied with.
http://nateruns.blogspot.com/2017/11/throw-back-2007-olympic-trials.html?m=1slowpost wrote:
Business Decision wrote:
He beat Meb one time
That puts him ahead of most of us.
It was January of 2006. I had been training on my own for about 18 months. I had been running a lot, I had in fact averaged over 135 miles per week for those 18 months. I was getting ready for my first marathon and had decided to try to convert a schedule Renato Canova had put out there for one of his former athletes, Rodgers Rop. I'll do a post on the whole cycle some time down the line but for today I'll just say that it was transformative in many ways not the least of which was I went from having bests of 24:35 and 1:07:28 for 8k and the half to having bests of 23:26, 1:04:14 and 2:15:28 for the marathon.
About mid way through my first experience with Canova I would attempt my first special Block. I should have been doing a specific block but at the time I couldn't have told you the difference and more over your not going to get through a specific block without doing a special block earlier in the cycle and I hadn't done a Canova base but all these were problems I didn't know I had.
I ran the first session starting at 7am. At the time I was meeting Sammy a 4:00 miler from Texas who had moved up to Massachusetts recently and was working at the same running shoe store I was. Sammy would stop off at my house for the morning run on his way to work in the morning and after the run he would go to work for the first shift at the store. I would take over for him at 1pm and work until 5pm, it was 2 to 7 on thursday and Sunday was 12 to 4 but that is all off topic.
The morning session was 10k with a goal of 34mins and 10k with a goal of 32mins. The PM session was 10k with a goal of 34mins and 10x1k with a goal of 3:00 per k.
Sammy arrived in full awareness of the monstrosity I was to attempt. He had decided he would do the warm-up and the first 10k then he would cool down and go to work leaving me to the hell of my own making. We warmed up 3 miles on the cold winter morning and did some strides on the busy Lowell Boulavard. It was busy but it is FLAT and that I was grateful for. I had pre measured with a wheel an out and back 5k and a 1k stretch for the reps. Garmins and online measurement existed at the time but they were less accurate and I certainly didn't own a Garmin.
After a 3 mile warm up in 23 mins and a few light strides Sammy and I were off. This was not a target workout for Sammy who was just trying to ease himself back into shape and I was nervous as hell, we hit the 5k turn around in 17:10 and closed up both feeling super strong at 34:15. I was still scared but I was super surprised how easy that had felt. Sammy was pumped as well to have knocked out a tempo at under 5:30 pace stayed in a easy talking effort the whole way. Now he was off to work. I did a little light jogging and a few strides and headed out. I had a split at 1k and 1 mile then 2 miles I was running in a large part by feel. I was super happy to hit the turn around and not feel dead, though my legs were quite heavy, at 15:52, I really started to push on the way back and found I was going about as fast as I could. I finished up in 31:39. At that time it was one of the 5 or ten fastest 10k's I had ever done and it was the fastest tempo run I had ever done. I was shocked. This was early in my Canova training and I was improving fast. However my elation was tempered by the knowledge that I would have to do it again that afternoon. It was already one of the longest and most exhausting workouts I had ever done.
At this time I was religious about getting my cool down in, I'm not anymore, but I cut myself some slack and did a little over 2 miles cool down back to the house and got ready for work. At the time I was using chocolate milk as my post workout recovery and I had bought a special half gallon of it just for this day and of course completely forgot about it.
The shoe store I worked at was pretty slow and I basically used to just stand around all day and see only a few customers. This day was much of the same though I snuck a few more sitting moments on the try on benches than usual.
It was dark that evening when I got out of work. I walked my mile home as was my custom at the time and changed up for round two. I headed out for my 3 mile warm up and just felt exhausted. I wasn't tight or sore I was just exhausted and had heavy legs. I was in new territory and I had no idea what to expect. In fact that I wasn't sore or tight was sort of mind blowing to me.
Back on the Boulivard I did my strides and got right to work. I was shocked that although I felt very heavy and tired the slower running felt very easy and I was ahead on my splits right from the gun. I was 16:33 at the turn around and finished up feeling aerobically good but very very tired at 33:03.
I took 5mins rest with a good bit of jogging and strides as it was January in Massachusetts and though the weather was good by those standards it was far to cold to stand around for five minutes. I attacked my first 1k interval not knowing what to expect. I had no set out splits but I had checked my split on the tempos at an intersection and I used this as a ballpark mark to get a sense of how I was doing. There was a light breeze and on the odd reps it was at my back. I hit my finish in 2:59 and I was pumped. I had nice long 2 min rests but it is strange when you have run that much hard mileage it isn't your breathing you are trying to recover. That comes quickly instead your legs are like sand bags and you don't have an ounce of spring. No amount of rest will get that back for you.
Rep two into the wind hurt more and was a 3:01. Rep 3 was my flyer in 2:55 I was pumped up about it but I knew if I tried to keep that up I would be done very soon. On rep 4 all my delusions were gone. I suffered through a 3:01 into the wind.
For the next few reps I ran 2:57, 3:03 and 3:00. Each rep was incredibly hard but I would get it done and feel like this was just how it was going to be. I would have to fight a war with my dead legs but I would finish, one circle of hell rep at a time.
The 8th rep was a 3:05. It felt noticeably worse than the others and I could tell as I was running it that it was slower but I tried to tell myself during the rest that it was the wind that had killed me. Plus I only had 2 reps to go. Every part of my being knew I was done but I only had to go out and back. One more in each direction.
I had exceeded everything I had ever done I was in a whole knew place I leaped into the 9th rep. My legs felt unresponsive and my feet just slapped down I was slow at my split and no amount of will seemed to move my body. 3:07. Really not so bad but I was crushed it was 7 seconds off pace and it was a tail wind rep. The rest seemed to be over instantly and I was pushing back on my last rep!
The top of the mountain was in sight and you would think that would bring out the final reserves for a last great effort. There were however no reserves left they had been brought out and burnt up long ago. I felt like I was barely moving. I ran 3:13 slower by a good bit than the pace of the 10k I tempo I had run in the morning that had felt so easy. Honestly if you told me before I looked at the watch that the rep had been at 6 minute mile pace I would have believed you. It felt that bad.
Honestly my workout was done after 8 reps. I had not done the prep work to be ready for a session like this and frankly it kind of amazes me that I got as far as I did but even with that the last two reps were a bridge to far.
As I stood dazed hands on knees I began to realize just how wiped out my legs were. Shaky, weak, unresponsive. Crushed. I had NOTHING left. I mentioned above I ALWAYS cooled down but now I knew I was done. The quickest way back to my house was a straight mile jog. I painfully struggled through it. I couldn't lift my legs properly. I actually felt fear that I wouldn't make it back to my house but I had no choice. One step at a time I made it back. I nearly fell on my walk across the driveway to the kitchen door. It was after 8pm. I was ruined.
This time I remembered my chocolate milk! I drank straight from the bottle and had in a minute or two finished the whole bottle. At which point I remembered that drinking a half gallon of milk was a bad idea. I had seen enough gallon challenges in college to know that a half gallon could be enough to make you puke. Luckily though I didn't feel so hot I had none of those problems.
After a short while I took a painful shower and dragged myself to bed. I was so exhausted I assumed I would drop into a coma like sleep. I was wrong.
The damage I had wrought on my body had pushed me to a state where I could not settle into a sleep. I lay there. I had cramps. I shuffled to the bathroom. I was dehydrated, I was exhausted. I was wrecked. I knew after an hour or two that no real sleep would happen but I had no desire to get out of bed I would simply lay there in my misery and hope to feel somewhat closer to human when the sun came up.
It would take a while but I would recover. I would however not be the same. A new athlete had been born. My will for the long war had been hardened my endurance had reached new levels. I would find out in my marathon debut that one great session like this alone was not enough to really finish a marathon perfectly but it was enough that I do feel this was the turning point of when I went from a guy who had potential to run a good marathon to a marathoner.
Eric J. wrote:
It was January of 2006. I had been training on my own for about 18 months. I had been running a lot, I had in fact averaged over 135 miles per week for those 18 months. I was getting ready for my first marathon and had decided to try to convert a schedule Renato Canova had put out there for one of his former athletes, Rodgers Rop. I'll do a post on the whole cycle some time down the line but for today I'll just say that it was transformative in many ways not the least of which was I went from having bests of 24:35 and 1:07:28 for 8k and the half to having bests of 23:26, 1:04:14 and 2:15:28 for the marathon.
About mid way through my first experience with Canova I would attempt my first special Block. I should have been doing a specific block but at the time I couldn't have told you the difference and more over your not going to get through a specific block without doing a special block earlier in the cycle and I hadn't done a Canova base but all these were problems I didn't know I had.
I ran the first session starting at 7am. At the time I was meeting Sammy a 4:00 miler from Texas who had moved up to Massachusetts recently and was working at the same running shoe store I was. Sammy would stop off at my house for the morning run on his way to work in the morning and after the run he would go to work for the first shift at the store. I would take over for him at 1pm and work until 5pm, it was 2 to 7 on thursday and Sunday was 12 to 4 but that is all off topic.
The morning session was 10k with a goal of 34mins and 10k with a goal of 32mins. The PM session was 10k with a goal of 34mins and 10x1k with a goal of 3:00 per k.
Sammy arrived in full awareness of the monstrosity I was to attempt. He had decided he would do the warm-up and the first 10k then he would cool down and go to work leaving me to the hell of my own making. We warmed up 3 miles on the cold winter morning and did some strides on the busy Lowell Boulavard. It was busy but it is FLAT and that I was grateful for. I had pre measured with a wheel an out and back 5k and a 1k stretch for the reps. Garmins and online measurement existed at the time but they were less accurate and I certainly didn't own a Garmin.
After a 3 mile warm up in 23 mins and a few light strides Sammy and I were off. This was not a target workout for Sammy who was just trying to ease himself back into shape and I was nervous as hell, we hit the 5k turn around in 17:10 and closed up both feeling super strong at 34:15. I was still scared but I was super surprised how easy that had felt. Sammy was pumped as well to have knocked out a tempo at under 5:30 pace stayed in a easy talking effort the whole way. Now he was off to work. I did a little light jogging and a few strides and headed out. I had a split at 1k and 1 mile then 2 miles I was running in a large part by feel. I was super happy to hit the turn around and not feel dead, though my legs were quite heavy, at 15:52, I really started to push on the way back and found I was going about as fast as I could. I finished up in 31:39. At that time it was one of the 5 or ten fastest 10k's I had ever done and it was the fastest tempo run I had ever done. I was shocked. This was early in my Canova training and I was improving fast. However my elation was tempered by the knowledge that I would have to do it again that afternoon. It was already one of the longest and most exhausting workouts I had ever done.
At this time I was religious about getting my cool down in, I'm not anymore, but I cut myself some slack and did a little over 2 miles cool down back to the house and got ready for work. At the time I was using chocolate milk as my post workout recovery and I had bought a special half gallon of it just for this day and of course completely forgot about it.
The shoe store I worked at was pretty slow and I basically used to just stand around all day and see only a few customers. This day was much of the same though I snuck a few more sitting moments on the try on benches than usual.
It was dark that evening when I got out of work. I walked my mile home as was my custom at the time and changed up for round two. I headed out for my 3 mile warm up and just felt exhausted. I wasn't tight or sore I was just exhausted and had heavy legs. I was in new territory and I had no idea what to expect. In fact that I wasn't sore or tight was sort of mind blowing to me.
Back on the Boulivard I did my strides and got right to work. I was shocked that although I felt very heavy and tired the slower running felt very easy and I was ahead on my splits right from the gun. I was 16:33 at the turn around and finished up feeling aerobically good but very very tired at 33:03.
I took 5mins rest with a good bit of jogging and strides as it was January in Massachusetts and though the weather was good by those standards it was far to cold to stand around for five minutes. I attacked my first 1k interval not knowing what to expect. I had no set out splits but I had checked my split on the tempos at an intersection and I used this as a ballpark mark to get a sense of how I was doing. There was a light breeze and on the odd reps it was at my back. I hit my finish in 2:59 and I was pumped. I had nice long 2 min rests but it is strange when you have run that much hard mileage it isn't your breathing you are trying to recover. That comes quickly instead your legs are like sand bags and you don't have an ounce of spring. No amount of rest will get that back for you.
Rep two into the wind hurt more and was a 3:01. Rep 3 was my flyer in 2:55 I was pumped up about it but I knew if I tried to keep that up I would be done very soon. On rep 4 all my delusions were gone. I suffered through a 3:01 into the wind.
For the next few reps I ran 2:57, 3:03 and 3:00. Each rep was incredibly hard but I would get it done and feel like this was just how it was going to be. I would have to fight a war with my dead legs but I would finish, one circle of hell rep at a time.
The 8th rep was a 3:05. It felt noticeably worse than the others and I could tell as I was running it that it was slower but I tried to tell myself during the rest that it was the wind that had killed me. Plus I only had 2 reps to go. Every part of my being knew I was done but I only had to go out and back. One more in each direction.
I had exceeded everything I had ever done I was in a whole knew place I leaped into the 9th rep. My legs felt unresponsive and my feet just slapped down I was slow at my split and no amount of will seemed to move my body. 3:07. Really not so bad but I was crushed it was 7 seconds off pace and it was a tail wind rep. The rest seemed to be over instantly and I was pushing back on my last rep!
The top of the mountain was in sight and you would think that would bring out the final reserves for a last great effort. There were however no reserves left they had been brought out and burnt up long ago. I felt like I was barely moving. I ran 3:13 slower by a good bit than the pace of the 10k I tempo I had run in the morning that had felt so easy. Honestly if you told me before I looked at the watch that the rep had been at 6 minute mile pace I would have believed you. It felt that bad.
Honestly my workout was done after 8 reps. I had not done the prep work to be ready for a session like this and frankly it kind of amazes me that I got as far as I did but even with that the last two reps were a bridge to far.
As I stood dazed hands on knees I began to realize just how wiped out my legs were. Shaky, weak, unresponsive. Crushed. I had NOTHING left. I mentioned above I ALWAYS cooled down but now I knew I was done. The quickest way back to my house was a straight mile jog. I painfully struggled through it. I couldn't lift my legs properly. I actually felt fear that I wouldn't make it back to my house but I had no choice. One step at a time I made it back. I nearly fell on my walk across the driveway to the kitchen door. It was after 8pm. I was ruined.
This time I remembered my chocolate milk! I drank straight from the bottle and had in a minute or two finished the whole bottle. At which point I remembered that drinking a half gallon of milk was a bad idea. I had seen enough gallon challenges in college to know that a half gallon could be enough to make you puke. Luckily though I didn't feel so hot I had none of those problems.
After a short while I took a painful shower and dragged myself to bed. I was so exhausted I assumed I would drop into a coma like sleep. I was wrong.
The damage I had wrought on my body had pushed me to a state where I could not settle into a sleep. I lay there. I had cramps. I shuffled to the bathroom. I was dehydrated, I was exhausted. I was wrecked. I knew after an hour or two that no real sleep would happen but I had no desire to get out of bed I would simply lay there in my misery and hope to feel somewhat closer to human when the sun came up.
It would take a while but I would recover. I would however not be the same. A new athlete had been born. My will for the long war had been hardened my endurance had reached new levels. I would find out in my marathon debut that one great session like this alone was not enough to really finish a marathon perfectly but it was enough that I do feel this was the turning point of when I went from a guy who had potential to run a good marathon to a marathoner.
A lesson is destroying ones body
Trials of Miles. Guest Blog by Melissa
Today's blog is by Nate's wife, Melissa Donais. She is a nurse practitioner and runner, who prefers 5ks to marathons.
"The difference between the mile and the marathon is the difference between burning your fingers with a match and being slowly roasted over hot coals." -Hal Higdon
He came stumbling through the door like Rocky Balboa at the end of a prizefight. I had expected something like this, but I still wasn’t prepared for it. “Melissa!” He yelled in a garbled, distraught, exhausted voice. I ran downstairs to him, concerned that something was wrong, beyond the expected exhaustion.
“Where’s Ruben?” I asked.
“You gotta go get him. He didn’t make it back. I can’t drive.” He collapsed onto the couch.
“What? Where is he Nate?”
“Up by the church.”
The church was about a half mile from our house. Ruben couldn’t make it back from the church? I grabbed some juice, anticipating that poor Ruben’s blood sugar was likely even lower than Nate’s right now, and hopped in the car. At the same time I dialed my mom’s cell phone.
My brother was up visiting from Saratoga this weekend and my parents, Nate, and I were planning on having dinner after Nate’s workout. I had called my mom earlier in the afternoon and warned her that Nate’s workout was unlike any workout our running family had ever heard of, but she didn’t seem to understand. “That’s okay, honey, we’ll pick you guys up so Nate won’t have to drive.” Now my parents and brother were on their way to our house. My mom answered the phone, and in a rushed voice I said “Ruben didn’t make it back. You gotta help me find him. Nate left him by the church.” My mom said they were right by there and would start looking.
Meanwhile, I circled the rotary by the church, scanning the sidewalks and peering over snowbanks looking for Ruben. I didn’t see a soul. I drove up the street a bit, still no Ruben. It was dark, and about 18 degrees out. I knew it wouldn’t take long before hypothermia set in for Ruben. I called the home phone.
“Is Ruben back yet? I can’t find him.”
“No. He’s not at the church?” Nate’s words were slurred from hypoglycemia and exhaustion.
“No, Nate, he’s not at the church. You let your friend die on the side of the road and just ran home yourself? Where the hell is he? You left him at the church?” I demanded in frustration, as I feared we might be making a trip to the hospital, all because these two geniuses decided to attempt a “special block” and run two insanely hard workouts, totaling 36 miles, in a twelve hour span. It was stupid. It was just stupid. And this stupidity could lead to some serious health consequences.
I drove down Great Pond Road, thinking maybe Ruben tried to make it back to our house but missed the final left turn onto our street. No Ruben. Then my cell phone rang. My mom, “We’ve got Ruben.” Thank God.
I arrived home to a shaky and cold Ruben. Nate wasn’t much better. They took showers, my brother and dad checking in periodically because we were afraid they would faint. Then they both collapsed on the couch, huddled under blankets. We ordered food and they slowly, over a couple of hours, improved mentally and physically.
Later my parents and brother would tell me they drove past the church, and my brother noticed something on the steps of the church. He jumped out of the car, ran up the steps, and sure enough, saw a man curled up on the steps.
“Ruben?” he asked.
No answer.
“Ruben? Ruben? Nate sent me. I’m taking you back to Nate. You must come with me.”
Ruben, mumbling, reluctantly got up off the steps. In his cold exhaustion he had somehow convinced himself that curling up on the church stairs would be warmer than waiting on the side of the road.
This is the life of marathoners striving for greatness, following the Canova system of training, where specificity is king. If you want to run a marathon in 2:11 (I mean, who doesn’t?) then you better run an ungodly amount of miles at 5 minute mile pace, and you better not take much recovery between those miles, because you’re going to have to string 26 of them together on race day. Sounds simple enough. It’s the doing that’s hard.
There’s a lot of glory that comes with greatness, and a lot of respect and admiration for the journey towards it, but what most people don’t understand is the day after day fatigue and pain experienced by the journeyman, and what no one even considers is the worry and frustration experienced by the caregivers. It’s very easy to say that you’ll support your spouse no matter what, and it’s an entirely different experience when you’re living with someone who is trying to run 140 miles a week around a full time job (you don’t want to see our house; it will be a mess until the end of April).
You never know what to expect. A run goes well and you breathe a sigh of relief. He will likely be cranky, hungry, and tired, but the run went well. Phew. The run goes bad and you get a call on your way to the gym, you’re turning your car around and finishing the dinner that’s in the middle of cooking on the stove while your spouse heads to a 90 minute Bikram yoga class because his foot feels tight.
Yoga ends as you’re ready to head to bed and your spouse finally arrives home. You haven’t seen him all day. But you can tell by the look on his face that things are not good. “Boston’s over. I’m not doing it. If I miss a workout now it’s all over.”
“What?”
All because his foot is tight. I sat him down, massaged his foot, used a guasha tool to break up fascial restrictions, and sent him to bed (he refused the “hell bucket” of ice treatment). In the morning I kinesio taped his foot before he left for work.
You end up walking on eggshells, praying for good runs, and doing your best to provide reassurance when the runs don’t go well. I mean really, I sought out every possible fix for his right leg/loss of coordination injury, do you think I’m going to let a tight plantar fascia prevent a successful Boston run? No way.
It’s been hard for me and I’m not putting in the miles. The cult classic novel, Once a Runner, referred to “trial of miles, miles of trials.” All runners think they understand what that means but I think few truly do. The trial of miles is a man, injured for seven years, who has undergone multiple extremely painful nerve tests, a (very risky) spine surgery, and countless hours of physical therapy to crawl his way back to a sport he loves above all else, to get just a chance to run his heart out and be healthy on the day. It’s a man who is dedicated to his full time job, and consistently running over 100 miles a week around it. A man who still finds some time to cuddle with the dog and kiss me goodnight, despite trying to make the impossible possible.
It is nothing short of amazing, and it is the culmination of years of work and hope. We have days when we feel we are losing the fight, but on the good days the dream lives. It’s so easy for others to look in and criticize, but only the few who have tried to live this life will understand the day to day drudgery and the tiny hope for glory.
I never comprehended what went into making a great marathoner. Now that I know and I have lived it I have so much awe and respect for my husband and for those great marathoners who came before him. They are part of an elite group of people who have more will and guts than most of us. No matter what happens in April, the dedication to his dream, the solving of his longtime injury puzzle, and the insane training (that he loves and missed during his injury) that he accomplished are real victories. I am so proud of Nate for fighting the good fight.
Eric J. wrote:
It was January of 2006. I had been training on my own for about 18 months. I had been running a lot, I had in fact averaged over 135 miles per week for those 18 months. I was getting ready for my first marathon and had decided to try to convert a schedule Renato Canova had put out there for one of his former athletes, Rodgers Rop. I'll do a post on the whole cycle some time down the line but for today I'll just say that it was transformative in many ways not the least of which was I went from having bests of 24:35 and 1:07:28 for 8k and the half to having bests of 23:26, 1:04:14 and 2:15:28 for the marathon.
About mid way through my first experience with Canova I would attempt my first special Block. I should have been doing a specific block but at the time I couldn't have told you the difference and more over your not going to get through a specific block without doing a special block earlier in the cycle and I hadn't done a Canova base but all these were problems I didn't know I had.
I ran the first session starting at 7am. At the time I was meeting Sammy a 4:00 miler from Texas who had moved up to Massachusetts recently and was working at the same running shoe store I was. Sammy would stop off at my house for the morning run on his way to work in the morning and after the run he would go to work for the first shift at the store. I would take over for him at 1pm and work until 5pm, it was 2 to 7 on thursday and Sunday was 12 to 4 but that is all off topic.
The morning session was 10k with a goal of 34mins and 10k with a goal of 32mins. The PM session was 10k with a goal of 34mins and 10x1k with a goal of 3:00 per k.
Sammy arrived in full awareness of the monstrosity I was to attempt. He had decided he would do the warm-up and the first 10k then he would cool down and go to work leaving me to the hell of my own making. We warmed up 3 miles on the cold winter morning and did some strides on the busy Lowell Boulavard. It was busy but it is FLAT and that I was grateful for. I had pre measured with a wheel an out and back 5k and a 1k stretch for the reps. Garmins and online measurement existed at the time but they were less accurate and I certainly didn't own a Garmin.
After a 3 mile warm up in 23 mins and a few light strides Sammy and I were off. This was not a target workout for Sammy who was just trying to ease himself back into shape and I was nervous as hell, we hit the 5k turn around in 17:10 and closed up both feeling super strong at 34:15. I was still scared but I was super surprised how easy that had felt. Sammy was pumped as well to have knocked out a tempo at under 5:30 pace stayed in a easy talking effort the whole way. Now he was off to work. I did a little light jogging and a few strides and headed out. I had a split at 1k and 1 mile then 2 miles I was running in a large part by feel. I was super happy to hit the turn around and not feel dead, though my legs were quite heavy, at 15:52, I really started to push on the way back and found I was going about as fast as I could. I finished up in 31:39. At that time it was one of the 5 or ten fastest 10k's I had ever done and it was the fastest tempo run I had ever done. I was shocked. This was early in my Canova training and I was improving fast. However my elation was tempered by the knowledge that I would have to do it again that afternoon. It was already one of the longest and most exhausting workouts I had ever done.
At this time I was religious about getting my cool down in, I'm not anymore, but I cut myself some slack and did a little over 2 miles cool down back to the house and got ready for work. At the time I was using chocolate milk as my post workout recovery and I had bought a special half gallon of it just for this day and of course completely forgot about it.
The shoe store I worked at was pretty slow and I basically used to just stand around all day and see only a few customers. This day was much of the same though I snuck a few more sitting moments on the try on benches than usual.
It was dark that evening when I got out of work. I walked my mile home as was my custom at the time and changed up for round two. I headed out for my 3 mile warm up and just felt exhausted. I wasn't tight or sore I was just exhausted and had heavy legs. I was in new territory and I had no idea what to expect. In fact that I wasn't sore or tight was sort of mind blowing to me.
Back on the Boulivard I did my strides and got right to work. I was shocked that although I felt very heavy and tired the slower running felt very easy and I was ahead on my splits right from the gun. I was 16:33 at the turn around and finished up feeling aerobically good but very very tired at 33:03.
I took 5mins rest with a good bit of jogging and strides as it was January in Massachusetts and though the weather was good by those standards it was far to cold to stand around for five minutes. I attacked my first 1k interval not knowing what to expect. I had no set out splits but I had checked my split on the tempos at an intersection and I used this as a ballpark mark to get a sense of how I was doing. There was a light breeze and on the odd reps it was at my back. I hit my finish in 2:59 and I was pumped. I had nice long 2 min rests but it is strange when you have run that much hard mileage it isn't your breathing you are trying to recover. That comes quickly instead your legs are like sand bags and you don't have an ounce of spring. No amount of rest will get that back for you.
Rep two into the wind hurt more and was a 3:01. Rep 3 was my flyer in 2:55 I was pumped up about it but I knew if I tried to keep that up I would be done very soon. On rep 4 all my delusions were gone. I suffered through a 3:01 into the wind.
For the next few reps I ran 2:57, 3:03 and 3:00. Each rep was incredibly hard but I would get it done and feel like this was just how it was going to be. I would have to fight a war with my dead legs but I would finish, one circle of hell rep at a time.
The 8th rep was a 3:05. It felt noticeably worse than the others and I could tell as I was running it that it was slower but I tried to tell myself during the rest that it was the wind that had killed me. Plus I only had 2 reps to go. Every part of my being knew I was done but I only had to go out and back. One more in each direction.
I had exceeded everything I had ever done I was in a whole knew place I leaped into the 9th rep. My legs felt unresponsive and my feet just slapped down I was slow at my split and no amount of will seemed to move my body. 3:07. Really not so bad but I was crushed it was 7 seconds off pace and it was a tail wind rep. The rest seemed to be over instantly and I was pushing back on my last rep!
The top of the mountain was in sight and you would think that would bring out the final reserves for a last great effort. There were however no reserves left they had been brought out and burnt up long ago. I felt like I was barely moving. I ran 3:13 slower by a good bit than the pace of the 10k I tempo I had run in the morning that had felt so easy. Honestly if you told me before I looked at the watch that the rep had been at 6 minute mile pace I would have believed you. It felt that bad.
Honestly my workout was done after 8 reps. I had not done the prep work to be ready for a session like this and frankly it kind of amazes me that I got as far as I did but even with that the last two reps were a bridge to far.
As I stood dazed hands on knees I began to realize just how wiped out my legs were. Shaky, weak, unresponsive. Crushed. I had NOTHING left. I mentioned above I ALWAYS cooled down but now I knew I was done. The quickest way back to my house was a straight mile jog. I painfully struggled through it. I couldn't lift my legs properly. I actually felt fear that I wouldn't make it back to my house but I had no choice. One step at a time I made it back. I nearly fell on my walk across the driveway to the kitchen door. It was after 8pm. I was ruined.
This time I remembered my chocolate milk! I drank straight from the bottle and had in a minute or two finished the whole bottle. At which point I remembered that drinking a half gallon of milk was a bad idea. I had seen enough gallon challenges in college to know that a half gallon could be enough to make you puke. Luckily though I didn't feel so hot I had none of those problems.
After a short while I took a painful shower and dragged myself to bed. I was so exhausted I assumed I would drop into a coma like sleep. I was wrong.
The damage I had wrought on my body had pushed me to a state where I could not settle into a sleep. I lay there. I had cramps. I shuffled to the bathroom. I was dehydrated, I was exhausted. I was wrecked. I knew after an hour or two that no real sleep would happen but I had no desire to get out of bed I would simply lay there in my misery and hope to feel somewhat closer to human when the sun came up.
It would take a while but I would recover. I would however not be the same. A new athlete had been born. My will for the long war had been hardened my endurance had reached new levels. I would find out in my marathon debut that one great session like this alone was not enough to really finish a marathon perfectly but it was enough that I do feel this was the turning point of when I went from a guy who had potential to run a good marathon to a marathoner.
NOT a smart workout
Here I was hoping you'd meant NATE Jenkins had busted out a top level masters performance recently.
The Ghost of Tom McArdle wrote:
Here I was hoping you'd meant NATE Jenkins had busted out a top level masters performance recently.
He will!
The Ghost of Tom McArdle wrote:
Here I was hoping you'd meant NATE Jenkins had busted out a top level masters performance recently.
Do you know him?
Business Decision wrote:
The Ghost of Tom McArdle wrote:
Here I was hoping you'd meant NATE Jenkins had busted out a top level masters performance recently.
Do you know him?
He’s a Big Boy, real Blue Collar Runner, ZERO fast twitch muscles, but somehow overcame the odds to beat the elitist runners who laughed in his face for YEARS
slowpost wrote:
Business Decision wrote:
He beat Meb one time
That puts him ahead of most of us.
Before the start of the 2007 Trials, Meb got up on Jenkins’ face and said, “What the F*CK are you doing here?”
Eric J. wrote:
It was January of 2006. I had been training on my own for about 18 months. I had been running a lot, I had in fact averaged over 135 miles per week for those 18 months. I was getting ready for my first marathon and had decided to try to convert a schedule Renato Canova had put out there for one of his former athletes, Rodgers Rop. I'll do a post on the whole cycle some time down the line but for today I'll just say that it was transformative in many ways not the least of which was I went from having bests of 24:35 and 1:07:28 for 8k and the half to having bests of 23:26, 1:04:14 and 2:15:28 for the marathon.
About mid way through my first experience with Canova I would attempt my first special Block. I should have been doing a specific block but at the time I couldn't have told you the difference and more over your not going to get through a specific block without doing a special block earlier in the cycle and I hadn't done a Canova base but all these were problems I didn't know I had.
I ran the first session starting at 7am. At the time I was meeting Sammy a 4:00 miler from Texas who had moved up to Massachusetts recently and was working at the same running shoe store I was. Sammy would stop off at my house for the morning run on his way to work in the morning and after the run he would go to work for the first shift at the store. I would take over for him at 1pm and work until 5pm, it was 2 to 7 on thursday and Sunday was 12 to 4 but that is all off topic.
The morning session was 10k with a goal of 34mins and 10k with a goal of 32mins. The PM session was 10k with a goal of 34mins and 10x1k with a goal of 3:00 per k.
Sammy arrived in full awareness of the monstrosity I was to attempt. He had decided he would do the warm-up and the first 10k then he would cool down and go to work leaving me to the hell of my own making. We warmed up 3 miles on the cold winter morning and did some strides on the busy Lowell Boulavard. It was busy but it is FLAT and that I was grateful for. I had pre measured with a wheel an out and back 5k and a 1k stretch for the reps. Garmins and online measurement existed at the time but they were less accurate and I certainly didn't own a Garmin.
After a 3 mile warm up in 23 mins and a few light strides Sammy and I were off. This was not a target workout for Sammy who was just trying to ease himself back into shape and I was nervous as hell, we hit the 5k turn around in 17:10 and closed up both feeling super strong at 34:15. I was still scared but I was super surprised how easy that had felt. Sammy was pumped as well to have knocked out a tempo at under 5:30 pace stayed in a easy talking effort the whole way. Now he was off to work. I did a little light jogging and a few strides and headed out. I had a split at 1k and 1 mile then 2 miles I was running in a large part by feel. I was super happy to hit the turn around and not feel dead, though my legs were quite heavy, at 15:52, I really started to push on the way back and found I was going about as fast as I could. I finished up in 31:39. At that time it was one of the 5 or ten fastest 10k's I had ever done and it was the fastest tempo run I had ever done. I was shocked. This was early in my Canova training and I was improving fast. However my elation was tempered by the knowledge that I would have to do it again that afternoon. It was already one of the longest and most exhausting workouts I had ever done.
At this time I was religious about getting my cool down in, I'm not anymore, but I cut myself some slack and did a little over 2 miles cool down back to the house and got ready for work. At the time I was using chocolate milk as my post workout recovery and I had bought a special half gallon of it just for this day and of course completely forgot about it.
The shoe store I worked at was pretty slow and I basically used to just stand around all day and see only a few customers. This day was much of the same though I snuck a few more sitting moments on the try on benches than usual.
It was dark that evening when I got out of work. I walked my mile home as was my custom at the time and changed up for round two. I headed out for my 3 mile warm up and just felt exhausted. I wasn't tight or sore I was just exhausted and had heavy legs. I was in new territory and I had no idea what to expect. In fact that I wasn't sore or tight was sort of mind blowing to me.
Back on the Boulivard I did my strides and got right to work. I was shocked that although I felt very heavy and tired the slower running felt very easy and I was ahead on my splits right from the gun. I was 16:33 at the turn around and finished up feeling aerobically good but very very tired at 33:03.
I took 5mins rest with a good bit of jogging and strides as it was January in Massachusetts and though the weather was good by those standards it was far to cold to stand around for five minutes. I attacked my first 1k interval not knowing what to expect. I had no set out splits but I had checked my split on the tempos at an intersection and I used this as a ballpark mark to get a sense of how I was doing. There was a light breeze and on the odd reps it was at my back. I hit my finish in 2:59 and I was pumped. I had nice long 2 min rests but it is strange when you have run that much hard mileage it isn't your breathing you are trying to recover. That comes quickly instead your legs are like sand bags and you don't have an ounce of spring. No amount of rest will get that back for you.
Rep two into the wind hurt more and was a 3:01. Rep 3 was my flyer in 2:55 I was pumped up about it but I knew if I tried to keep that up I would be done very soon. On rep 4 all my delusions were gone. I suffered through a 3:01 into the wind.
For the next few reps I ran 2:57, 3:03 and 3:00. Each rep was incredibly hard but I would get it done and feel like this was just how it was going to be. I would have to fight a war with my dead legs but I would finish, one circle of hell rep at a time.
The 8th rep was a 3:05. It felt noticeably worse than the others and I could tell as I was running it that it was slower but I tried to tell myself during the rest that it was the wind that had killed me. Plus I only had 2 reps to go. Every part of my being knew I was done but I only had to go out and back. One more in each direction.
I had exceeded everything I had ever done I was in a whole knew place I leaped into the 9th rep. My legs felt unresponsive and my feet just slapped down I was slow at my split and no amount of will seemed to move my body. 3:07. Really not so bad but I was crushed it was 7 seconds off pace and it was a tail wind rep. The rest seemed to be over instantly and I was pushing back on my last rep!
The top of the mountain was in sight and you would think that would bring out the final reserves for a last great effort. There were however no reserves left they had been brought out and burnt up long ago. I felt like I was barely moving. I ran 3:13 slower by a good bit than the pace of the 10k I tempo I had run in the morning that had felt so easy. Honestly if you told me before I looked at the watch that the rep had been at 6 minute mile pace I would have believed you. It felt that bad.
Honestly my workout was done after 8 reps. I had not done the prep work to be ready for a session like this and frankly it kind of amazes me that I got as far as I did but even with that the last two reps were a bridge to far.
As I stood dazed hands on knees I began to realize just how wiped out my legs were. Shaky, weak, unresponsive. Crushed. I had NOTHING left. I mentioned above I ALWAYS cooled down but now I knew I was done. The quickest way back to my house was a straight mile jog. I painfully struggled through it. I couldn't lift my legs properly. I actually felt fear that I wouldn't make it back to my house but I had no choice. One step at a time I made it back. I nearly fell on my walk across the driveway to the kitchen door. It was after 8pm. I was ruined.
This time I remembered my chocolate milk! I drank straight from the bottle and had in a minute or two finished the whole bottle. At which point I remembered that drinking a half gallon of milk was a bad idea. I had seen enough gallon challenges in college to know that a half gallon could be enough to make you puke. Luckily though I didn't feel so hot I had none of those problems.
After a short while I took a painful shower and dragged myself to bed. I was so exhausted I assumed I would drop into a coma like sleep. I was wrong.
The damage I had wrought on my body had pushed me to a state where I could not settle into a sleep. I lay there. I had cramps. I shuffled to the bathroom. I was dehydrated, I was exhausted. I was wrecked. I knew after an hour or two that no real sleep would happen but I had no desire to get out of bed I would simply lay there in my misery and hope to feel somewhat closer to human when the sun came up.
It would take a while but I would recover. I would however not be the same. A new athlete had been born. My will for the long war had been hardened my endurance had reached new levels. I would find out in my marathon debut that one great session like this alone was not enough to really finish a marathon perfectly but it was enough that I do feel this was the turning point of when I went from a guy who had potential to run a good marathon to a marathoner.
This reads like that Quenton Cassidy book.
On the first page someone mentioned he ran one good marathon and that was it? reading that passage and knowing he only ran one good race does not suprise me one bit.
shootpost wrote
On the first page someone mentioned he ran one good marathon and that was it? reading that passage and knowing he only ran one good race does not suprise me one bit.
I mean the workout should have been one session, Max 18k of work. So for example, his three 10k splits were 34:15, 33 flat, and 31:36. If those had been his three 10ks, run as a cutdown workout, boom, that’s all you need. 4 10ks is asking for trouble
Business Decision wrote:
shootpost wrote
On the first page someone mentioned he ran one good marathon and that was it? reading that passage and knowing he only ran one good race does not suprise me one bit.
I mean the workout should have been one session, Max 18k of work. So for example, his three 10k splits were 34:15, 33 flat, and 31:36. If those had been his three 10ks, run as a cutdown workout, boom, that’s all you need. 4 10ks is asking for trouble
I meant max 30k of work (approx 18 miles)
That would be a 2+ hour workout for you, not including recovery intervals.
BOHICA wrote:
That would be a 2+ hour workout for you, not including recovery intervals.
Yikes!
BOHICA wrote:
That would be a 2+ hour workout for you, not including recovery intervals.
What’s your point?!