The Side of the Road

It is where they found the body of Jim Fixx, the author of "The Complete Book of Running" when he collapsed and died of a heart attack. It is where I have changed countless flats, including one in the dark, in the rain, on a hill, in winter on the way home from work. It is where aid stations and mile markers are located, and where you high-five family and friends during a race. The side of the road. It is the twilight zone of running and riding, a place you never think of, somewhere between the world of people who use the sidewalk and those who use the road. It is where, if you had been driving or riding along Beach Drive yesterday in the brisk 35 degrees of late morning, you would have passed me, running as fast as my battle-scarred legs would carry me for 8 minutes, so I have some numbers about heart rate and distance to share with my coach.

Based on these numbers, we will plan running workouts that will make me faster and stronger which, based on yesterday's effort, should not be hard. I suspect my feeling of sluggishness had something to do with the sub-freezing temperatures (there was a nice little breeze). I don't seem to operate as well when the temperature is below about 45. That is some sort of threshold for me. It always takes me about 15 minutes to feel like I am running, and 45-50 minutes to actually feel fluent. In the real cold of winter, I never really hit that second point, and I make the first by the slimmest of margins. My heart rate was higher in Panama City last Monday in a steady run than it was yesterday in a full-on effort. Go figure.

The real significance of all this is that, in the dark days of winter, I am laying the ground work for an exceptional year. I am training with a focus and a purpose, and I am in regular touch with a coach who sets workouts and helps me track progress and analyze results. My Garmin is going to be my new best friend, and I will be doing field tests every 8-12 weeks to see how I am improving. It's exciting, and I look forward to a year of great achievement, including perhaps a July visit to Lake Placid, to see what I can do on that course when I am in the sort of condition I should be after 6 solid months of work.

It has been a few years since I have raced as well as I can. I think I have become comfortable training in ways that I like, and neglecting the things that are really difficult. I have allowed speed to slip, and I have tended to run as I feel, rather than for a purpose. My nutrition has been hit-and-miss. This is all fine, unless you are 54 and wanting to excel, in which case you need to stop making excuses and start making smart decisions that will maximize the impact of your training. One thing that keeps me focused is another memory from the side of a road. On Alii Drive, near the beach where the Ironman starts, is a little marker. It is where the race finishes. I want to cross that line again. It is one of the greatest moments in life.