Treadmill tips from the masters

Whatever its limitations, the treadmill is a tool that veteran runners have learned to use to complement their outdoor workouts. Some even manage to have a fair amount of fun with the machine.

A recent discussion in the Runner’s World Masters forum offers these ideas to make treadmill workouts a more productive, enjoyable  experience:

Mix it up
Elizabethnyc does a lot of treadmill running, even logging up to 20 miles on the machine. She likes the “great people watching” at the gym, enjoys watching baseball and “stupid TV shows, and listening to music. Another tip from her: Change up the speed regularly and try progressive runs on the machine once in a while.

Pace work 
Another runner who goes long distance on the TM, 20 plus miles on occasion, recommends TMs for pace work.  “A lot of our area tracks are kept locked, so it's difficult for me to do good speed workouts.  The TM solves this problem nicely,” says IlliniDave.  One of his techniques for making the time move along: “I have found that downloading books to my MP3 makes the miles just slide by. There have been a couple of occasions where I have run longer than planned because the book wasn't at a convenient stopping place.”

Experiment with the settings
One runner who does about 25-30% of his mileage on the TM uses the machine for “everything from short recovery runs to tempo runs to eighteen mile runs.” To prevent a breakdown in form--from converting to a heel striker--he has experimented with the machine’s settings to keep on the mid-foot or forefoot.

“In order to keep from getting injured I started experimenting with some of the TM parameters. I found that by changing the incline, to either -1 or +1, I landed much more "natural" for me. This significantly helped with nagging hip pain. So I periodically (every mile or two) change the incline.

“I also change the speed to mimic the natural speed changes when running outside. So if I'm running at 7.1mi/hr I'll actually run in a range of 7.0 to 7.2 on the TM. “One other thing I do is move to different positions (forward or backward) on the treadmill. This forces me to change my neck/head position for where I am viewing.Not sure how much this helps compared to the first two.”

Change position
Greg, a self-described “numbers geek,” says he used to do 75% of his runs on the treadmill. He likes the controlled climate and the data on the dashboard.  To keep things interesting, he offers these tips:  "On longer runs I may run the last .25 of each mile at 20-30 seconds faster. I like the pre-programmed hill workout as it changes things up every 2 minutes, and I like to change my position on the belt, essentially running in a rectangle.  I'll start in the front left and slide to the right....drift to the back...slide to the left....move to the front.  This is fairly challenging to do, especially after an hour or so and really takes some concentration.  It also puts some lateral stress on my legs to help simulate cornering and help with balance.”

Zone out
Brandydan is another runner who’s not afraid to go long distance on the TM, 16-20 milers when training for a full marathon. The machine helps him with the mental training of “doing something for hours,” he says. He likes the TM’s incline/decline features and pre-programmed runs. “ Personally, I zone out on the TM. I have one of those iPods that hold over 100G of stuff, and I actually look forward to some definite 'me' time. I am way too slow...and it has helped me at least learn how to stay at a steady pace.”

Enjoy the view
And then there’s the notion to simply enjoy the indoor surroundings. Says a Texas master:
“I use one of the numerous TMs at our local rec center and do some people watching to break the monotony. It's really entertaining sometimes, especially at the TMs adjacent to the weight machines.”

Join the discussion: Runner's World Masters Forum

On the treadmill: What are you thinking?

I can only meditate when I am walking. When I stop I cease to think; my mind only works with my legs.—Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

In his new book, The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot, Robert MacFarlane introduces his travels with the idea that thought and motion have been tied together in the minds of many a famous thinker. He cites Nietzcshe, and Wordsworth, as well as Rousseau, among others.

Having been tethered to the treadmill while recovering from a cold, I think it’s worth qualifying that the walk or run needs to be “real” if it’s going to move one’s mind in any kind of new direction.

Treadmills are great technology, but they insulate you from nature, and thus much original thought, it seems. On the treadmill you’re on technological life support. You’re indoors, you read, you watch TV, you stare at pulsating monitors. You don't think much.

Boredom on the treadmill is explained by our evolutionary history, says psychologist Hank Davis in a Runner’s World article, "The Caveman in the Gym." When we’re on the treadmill, we’re “missing hundreds of thousands of years of physical and mental expectations,” he says, which include, of course, chasing down a meal or avoiding becoming something’s meal. Running for fun and exercise is a relatively new phenomenon in the history of the species.

Thanks to treadmills we can transcend nature and get in a workout when we are boxed in by circumstances of weather, time and health. But it’s just not the same. The world of thought awaits outdoors.

Run when sick? If it's all in your head

I thought I had made it through the holiday germ-o-sphere in good shape. All through Christmas and New Years were the signs of cold and flu—the last being a woman in a shop selling me a food blender. She could hardly talk and complained how sick she was, blaming it on antibiotics. Okay.

I had managed 12 straight days of running—a number of them in pretty harsh winter weather. It felt good. Seemed like a great start to the New Year and my various resolutions to be a better person.

Today, I’m slogging through the fourth day of a nasty cold, punctuated by an especially sore throat. A bad cold changes your psyche. After you’ve been sick for a few days, it’s hard to imagine being healthy again. Of course when you’re fit and well, you have little mind for what it’s like to be ill.

What’s the conventional wisdom about exercise and illness? Should you run with a cold—or rest?
One authority cited in a relevant Runner’s World article is David Nieman, a Ph.D. who has run 58 marathons and ultras. He prescribes the "neck rule."

According to Nieman, “Symptoms below the neck (chest cold, bronchial infection, body ache) require time off, while symptoms above the neck (runny nose, stuffiness, sneezing) don't pose a risk to runners continuing workouts."

A New York Times story, "Don’t starve a cold of exercise," points to research showing “no difference in symptoms between [a] group that exercised and the one that rested. And there was no difference in the time it took to recover from the colds.”

My symptoms include the throat and chest—and certainly the part of the head that’s psychological. It’s depressing to be sidelined. It makes the cold seem worse.

Better hit the streets a bit or try out the treadmill today, or the world will pass me by.
 
Or maybe not. There will be world enough and time tomorrow.

Ten Running Resolutions for 2013

First time ever it's dawned on me to take a run at some New Year’s resolutions. These are the ones that came to mind today, though I wonder what they will look like in the morning:

1.    Leave the watch behind once in a while. Time waits for no one, but it can be ignored at times.

2.    Be selfless. No running if it conflicts with relationships, commitments, obligations, work.

3.  .  Remember the real meaning of races. “We are, I am, you are.” -- Adrienne Rich 1929-2012.

4.    Get a good goal. A thousand miles for the year seems like a wise one, thank you Amby Burfoot (“The Life of a Runner,” Runner’s World, November 2012).

5.    Run with the young. Well, every now and then, anyway. Let them pull you along. (And let them do the talking).

6.    Listen for things. Ambient sound is alive with ideas.

7.    Stick to the plan when it comes to pain. Don’t run through it; the knees know.

8.    Wait with the words.  Keep the interior voice quiet from time to time. It needs a rest.

9.    Watch for the wildlife. Even the occasional rabbit or crow can teach one something about running.

10.  Don’t forget fun. This thing is something kids do. Take joy in still bouncing along after all these years.

In memory of Sharon Kurns

Today, I found myself thinking what it means to dedicate some thought or action to something or someone. Despite their infinitesimally small value in the face of the circumstances, my thoughts were soon to be dedicated to the memory of Sharon Kurns, a friend who died this week. She struggled with kidney cancer for two months, and her death came quickly, mercifully it seems.

Her husband Dave and I have been friends and worked together for nearly 20 years. I don’t know how he’s handling this brutal fate. I wonder if he isn’t carrying some strength from Sharon.

I wish I would have known Sharon better. She offered something special to the world, her own kind of grace and language. She was soft-spoken; one wanted to heed her every word.

Once she thanked me for a favor I did for Dave and her. I was honored to do it, but her words made me re-gauge the value of measured, honest language.

The last time I saw Sharon, Sandy and I were having dinner with Dave and her at a noisy restaurant. The clamor was so bad we could barely hear each other speak. I strained the whole time with my impaired hearing to tune in her comments. When Sharon spoke, I knew it would be something I’d want to hear.

But the evening had been redeemed even before we tried converse. There was a moment just before Sharon arrived separately. The three of us were seated, and Dave made a comment to the waiter that he’d recognize Sharon right away by how lovely she was. And when she sat down a look passed between Dave and her.

I’ll miss seeing that wordless thing that she and Dave had between themselves. And I’ll miss her quiet, wise words.

Last run before end of the world

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice. – Robert Frost

The blizzard is over, and if this is the day the world ends as the Mayans predicted, I better get one more run done.

It’s seven degrees, with a seven-mph wind from the northwest. There’s about ten inches of snow on the ground, underlain with ice. It’s the first run of the year in real winter weather.


BEFORE:
Out the window, the frozen world is deep blue sky and pure white snow stuck to everything.

Gear ideas:  Don’t be afraid to dress too warmly today. Long johns.

It may not be the world’s last day, but it could be mine, hah, hah.

Random music lyric o’ the day: “Baby, it’s cold outside.”

AFTER
Even at this age, the day after a blizzard, albeit a killer blizzard, brings a childlike wonder at its beauty.

Half the street provides packed snow comfort, the other half hides dangerously slick ice.

Remembering a friend, an accomplished runner who broke her leg in about ten places on Christmas Eve a few years ago after stepping on a hidden patch of ice. Is this worth the risk?

Oh, look at the patterns sketched by the wind. Snow can look like a white Sahara. Wind makes art of both snow and sand. Fire and ice.

People in cars wave at you on a day like today.

Random book title from the memory library: Dr. Zhivago.

It probably takes some running experience to dress just right for this kind of weather. I did. Tip: Add a layer to your “middle parts.”

Poll: Run in snow, cold and ice, or on treadmill?

Final thought: World ending in ice will suffice, thank you, Robert Frost.

Voice of meaning resolves nothing about school tragedy

The  busy, work-a-day world yesterday must have provided me some insulation from the horrible news about the Connecticut elementary school. But the morning brought a desire to look at this thing head on.

Later in the day, the thought was to run long distance in a kind of mental silence.  Appreciate the gentle rain that fell overnight--just make it a seven-mile meditation. Be respectful.

But the voice of meaning begins searching. You think of the evil in the world and the Christian belief in forgiveness. The debate about stronger gun control comes to mind. Contemplate the Buddhist idea of how to bring the end of suffering. Consider Existentialism’s question of why the world exists at all instead of there being nothing.

The mind goes on and on, nearing the end of its tether. It must look for signs.

But don’t read anything into the crows on a wire, your steps in time with their plaintive cawing. It means nothing. Run past Westwood Elementary, flag at half mast, the empty playground on a Saturday, the bright colors of the slides and swingsets shrouded in the dreary light. Run past the triplex a couple blocks down the street where we first lived in this town, before the kids started school.

Run through the Faith Baptist Bible College campus. There you know you will see a sign by a clock mounted on a street lamp: “Have Faith in God.”

Up the street, outside a plain apartment somebody left a plastic Nativity scene lit up.

Northwest Elementary turns up late on the route—the school Natalie and Nathan attended so long ago. The traffic is so much heavier on this street now. The crosswalk looks dangerous.

Yes, there is evil in the world and the meaning of it is elusive. But, we made it, kids, didn’t we?  

The gentle rain starts up again as I near home. This deep drought won’t be healed by today’s weather. One wonders when it ever will be.

But for now there are puddles in the street and some rain water in the glass I left on the porch step.