Review: Merrell Road Glove

The efficient road shoe is elusive. How do you find the right combination of lightness, ground-feel, and protection from pebbles whilst not interfering with the natural motion of the foot, and subsequently the remainder of the kinetic chain up the leg? When looking for a road shoe, I often find myself making compromises, some are too squishy, others too stiff, do I want a Zero-Drop shoe? or would I be better off with a bit of a heel?

The Merrell Road Glove is Merrell’s answer to the minimalist road running shoe dilemma. Based on the same last as their incredibly popular Trail Glove, the Road Glove is really a result of some minor alterations to its trail-oriented brother. Here are the Stats:

Weight: 6.6 oz (men’s size 9)
Cushioning: 4mm EVA foam
Vibram Outsole
ZERO drop

Okay, so that’s the boring part, and precisely what one would expect from the Merrell “Barefoot” line of shoes, so I’m really not telling you anything new right now. The fit on the Road Glove is exactly what any barefoot/minimalist runner would be looking for, snug in the heel, wide in the toe box. This allows the foot to feel attached to the shoe (in fact, it eventually feels like the shoe is molded onto your foot) while giving the runner enough toebox room for the toes to splay naturally. There is a piece of foam that touches the arch directly, much like the Trail glove. This is NOT an arch support, it’s foam, and is there to lock the foot into place within the shoe. This foam has no rigidity, and collapses easily when your foot flattens out, so it is in no way taking any load off of your arches.

The ground feel on these shoes is fantastic. Merrell has taken an approach that concentrates more on the outsole than the midsole of the shoe, so there’s only a small layer of EVA (4mm) between your foot and the outsole, but the outsole is present for the entirety of the sole of the shoe. While this makes for a very consistent ground feel, and prevents any squishiness in the shoe, it does feel a little stiff when compared to the outsole designs using pods (like the NB MR00). However, this is such a minor complaint, it’s barely worth noting. In fact, the Vibram outsole combined with the modest amount of cushioning seems to take the edge off of any pebbles you may encounter, while not sacrificing the overall ground-feel (a major upgrade from my VFF’s which leave my feet sore on any run <5miles)

How are they different from the Trail Glove? Simply stated, they have a different (less aggressive) outsole, and have eliminated the rock-plate. There have also been some changes to the upper, since a trail shoe really needs to be more connected to the foot than a road shoe requires. These handful of changes makes for a lighter shoe that will hopefully last longer on roads (the trail glove is reported to wear out very quickly on the roads… although it was never intended for road use).

Conclusions? I like them… a lot. While I don’t run exclusively in Zero-Drop shoes (I’ve found that I prefer a 4mm drop in my trail shoes) These have found themselves used heavily in my rotations. I would definitely consider racing in these, and am looking forward to putting some 20+ mile runs on them in the near future.

Note: These shoes were provided to me as part of my Merrell Sponsorship to Participate in the Outdoor Nation Summit.

Pursuing direct lines

Spending some time in the Pine Tree State running the local mountains… I’d forgotten how much fun, and how challenging running directly up a big mountain can be. For the sake of brevity, and my (still) lack of trust in my right leg, I’ve been choosing the most direct lines to the summit, to reduce the amount of actual mileage, while still getting myself above treeline, which has amounted to pretty short trips (~45 mins) but with maximal effort throughout the entirety of the trip.

Only a few short months ago, I would be frustrated going for a run where the overwhelming majority of my time would be spent hiking. In fact, it seems that hiking, despite its inherent necessity in mountain running, (especially at the ultra-distance) hiking is often under-appreciated. The reality of the situation is that these more direct lines, while shorter in mileage, more than make up for their brevity by requiring a backbreaking effort throughout. Nothing can compare to an extended incline session with your nose to the ground, hands on your knees, and breathing heavily with every planting of the foot. Sure, it’s not a run, but it’s still the most efficient way to move quickly through the mountains.

 This past weeks worth of serious vertical abuse has helped me to successfully regain a lot of the lost trust in my right leg. In spite of the brevity of my sessions (the longest being ~1h46m) I managed to really attack some vertical gains and losses, and contrary to my expectations, my knee/ITB feel great, even after bombing down scree, leaping over boulders, and generally being reckless. Perhaps more importantly to me is the fact that I was able to consistently get above treeline almost every day this past week (I did take a day off for prudence, and one for travel). and if the sunburn on my shoulders is any indication of summertime mountain-efforts, I’m doing pretty well.

Saddleback in the fog, Photo courtesy of Snake-Girl

Wearing the ITB strap… for prudence

Summit Proper

Return from the Horn

Enjoy the Mountains

No man should go through life without once experiencing healthy, even bored solitude in the wilderness, finding himself depending solely on himself and thereby learning his true and hidden strength. — Jack Kerouac

I understand that it’s unbelievably clichè to begin any posting by quoting an author, and even more trite to do so by quoting Jack Kerouac, but he makes a very valid point in this quip from Lonesome Traveler. Kerouac is emphasizing the grand importance of not only self-reliance, but the joy of the wilderness, and this was in 1960. If Kerouac had to emphasize the importance of the outdoors then, well before iPads, iPhones, Wireless internet, HDTV, Xbox, and the litany of other technological distractions we’re privy to in the current generation, how are we to encourage the importance of life outside?

Next weekend I’m attending the Outdoor Nation summit in NYC, courtesy of Merrell, who have chosen me to be among a small handful of delegates attending these summits across the nation. So myself, annd approximately 70 other 20-somethings will find ourselves camping in Central Park, getting to know each other, and brainstorming. Fundamentally, the purpose of these regional summits is to gather young people to generate ideas and projects to encourage our peers to spend more time in the outdoors, reaping the benefits of the woods and mountains, and helping to preserve what is left of our great unadulterated forests.

John Muir once said “Climb the mountains and enjoy their good tidings.” In going outside, and participating in true outdoor distraction-free travel, we can as individuals, discover our strengths, our weaknesses, and more importantly, come closer to the realization of what it truly means to be human.  About a year ago, I decided to backpack through the White Mountains, into the Mahoosuc’s via the Appalachian trail. Compared to the folks who hike the entirety of the footpath, this was a miniscule trip, but by dumb luck, I found myself placed inside of the “bubble” where the Northbound Hikers (who typically start in Georgia in March) and the Southbound Hikers (who start in Maine in June) cross paths. This, by default gave me the opportunity to converse with a wide variety of hikers, all there for their own personal reasons. While the hikers were as individual as could be, they all had a handful of things in common: their love of the woods/mountains, a huge amount of pure guts, and that joie de vivre that you can only get by spending the vast majority of your time outside.

In running, I’ve found similar traits to be prevalent. Trail runners, when they come across each other on trail, seem to always acknowledge each others presence, often stopping to chat for a bit (something I’ve never experienced on the pavement…) and moreso, even within a race, the sense of comraderie is a huge contributing factor to the overall vibe. Outdoor people seem to all know that we’re part of some sort of club, while our activities may vary, the intention is the same, a pursuit of peace, both inner and outer, and the overwhelming desire to embrace our humanity by submitting to nature.

“In every walk in nature, one receives far more than he seeks.” (John Muir) So go out, run, walk, hike, kayak, climb, do whatever you can to get yourself outside, and reap the benefits, they’re free, and will always give you more than you’re seeking. In fact, do one better, and take a friend with you, preferably someone who’s unfamiliar with whatever activity you chose, be it hiking, running, kayaking, or climbing, they’ll thank you for it.

Take a Buddy!

First day back on the hill in 6 weeks…

Rebuilding

After spending the better part of May sitting on the couch complaining about how nice the weather is, I think I’m starting to turn the corner in my ITBS healing process. Unfortunately (for me) the only reliable way to properly recover from an overuse injury such as this is plain and simple rest. Of course, like any over-zealous 20-something, I managed to fail in my original attempt at resting, making it about 14 days without running before I restarted, only to run 6 miles of trail on my 3rd day back, successfully re-aggravating my condition (although much less painful than the initial flaring, so the resting wasn’t for naught). So, after that I decided that my best bet was to refrain from running for at least another 10 days, but begin cross-training as soon as things felt normal again (in a day to day walking stair-climbing sense of normal).
So this time around, I’m approaching my return to running in a very different manner. I’ve never been a fan of weight lifting, or the gym in general, but the obvious weaknesses in my hip abductors, as well as the relative weakness in my core yields a breakdown in my running form over a long mountain race, which is fundamentally unsustainable without some sort of intervention. So, following my mother’s advice (note: she’s a personal trainer, which makes her maternal concerns/advice a good deal more valid[or at least I’d like to think it does]) I’ve joined a Gym. Yes, I have begun to lift things up and put them down. My primary goal is, in the short-term, to salvage as much strength/fitness as possible through a combination of strength training, and low-impact cardio. In the long term I’m hoping to build more strength overall to stave off late race fade, and postpone the inevitable breakdown in form late in a race. With some luck (and diligence) this should help to reduce the likelihood that I find myself laid out again after a long racing effort, and should in turn reduce my injury rate in the long term.
As far as actual running is concerned, my plan as of now, is to begin running lightly in the upcoming week, increasing my mileage at an uncharacteristically prudent rate for at least the first few weeks while utilizing my new-found gym access to build some additional strength. I’ve also begun applying twice-daily therapeutic ultrasound to my IT band, which helps repair tissue on a cellular level by increasing blood flow, and breaking down scar-tissue. With some luck, I’ll be able to salvage some late summer race plans, and fully take advantage of a couple of New England trips I have planned in the next month.
Bonnaroo is happening this weekend, so here are some Jersey bred guys to kick off the summer.

Frustration

Any high volume runner knows what I’m talking about when I tell you that the inability to run is ineffably frustrating. Putting aside any race plans, and any other associated fitness goals, the real issue is that there’s a tremendous part of my day to day life that’s simply… missing. The smell of the mornings fresh air, the sense of depletion after a run, the joy of a prolonged sweat, all of this seems to be infiltrating my thoughts, memories of what seems like a past life (although it’s only been a few weeks since I was running healthily). In fact, it’s much like getting sick, where after a few too many days of illness, you begin to forget what healthy feels like…  More omnipresent, is the longing for that time spent truly alone. Having the opportunity to tune in, and listen to my body, both the joys and the pains of distance running. Even more, the chance to truly let my thoughts go through my head at their own speed, and simply observe them. So while it’s annoying to think that my fitness is slowly reducing, this pales in comparison to the mental aspect of not being able to hop on trail first thing in the morning (and often times, last thing in the evening) and leave it all behind for a while.

My knee is starting to feel better, in fact, it’s MUCH better than it was when I originally began resting(I’ve now taken 14 of the last 18 days completely off from running). When it first started to act up, I couldn’t make it more than 3/4ths of a mile or so before the pain began to become unbearable, whereas this past Monday, I ran 6 miles on trail(AT, at Sunrise Mountain), without it being beyond a nagging discomfort, and last night I ran 3 miles on the roads, again testing it out, finding the pain bearable, but certainly concerned that a light 3 mile jaunt would still cause some aggravation. With this in mind, I’ve decided to take another ~8-10 days off from running, concentrating on icing, stretching, compressing, and starting to integrate ultrasound therapy. Hopefully this will allow my IT band to fully heal so that I can get back to the trails soon, and retrieve the part of my life that’s been missing for the past month or so.

In other news, I’ve been selected to be a Merrell Delegate for the upcoming Outdoor Nation Summit in NYC. I’m not sure how much Merrell wants me (or any of the other delegates) to divulge about the perks of being sent on their behalf, but the bottom line is that they’re covering my expenses, and have provided me with a generous amount of apparel in exchange for my participation, blogging on their behalf, and a couple of conference calls with their outdoor people. Basically the purpose of the summit is to gather a sizable amount of 20-somethings in a room to discuss ways to encourage more people to get outside, get on trail, and be healthier, so I’m every much looking forward to it.

Gino chased by Bob

John crosses a stream

Jeff doing some downhill

Healing

Few things are as frustrating as waiting, especially when you’re waiting for your body to heal, or just simply feel “normal” again, as I’ve been doing for the past week and a half. So what exactly has my strategy been for getting through this bout of ITBS? It’s really quite simple, starting primarily with an abundance of foam rolling, mostly to loosen up the tissue surrounding the IT band, all of which was surprisingly sore, like screaming in pain when I first started rolling kind of sore (and I’d like to think I have a pretty high tolerance for physical pain). Beyond that, I’ve been icing rather regularly, as well as stretching all of the supporting muscles (as it’s nearly impossible to stretch the actual IT band) and doing a handful of exercises designed to strengthen the glutes and hamstrings (whose weakness supposedly leads to ITBS…).

Right now, my leg/knee feels surprisingly… normal, there’s an occasional twinge here or there, but I can run down the stairs again (as opposed to limping like a geriatric old man) without any discomfort, and have even harnessed the gumption to ride the bike a bit, and spend some time picking things up and putting them down. As far as getting back into “real” training, I’m planning on taking at least a few more days of unaggravated existence before I ease into running again. I still have a pretty solid base level fitness, which I don’t think has regressed too much in the time I’ve taken off, and I’d much rather allow this to heal properly, than aggravate it again, which will only end up with more time on the couch. So, while I’m not running as much as my typical volume (zero miles at the moment…) I’m planning on using the bike a lot more, and considering finally getting a gym membership (no guarantees on the last one).

Otherwise, my strategy for the next race(s) is primarily the same as it was for the NF 50, run as much as I physically/mentally/logistically can, with an emphasis on trails and vertical gain. I’ve also decided that I should try to capitalize on the lessons learned at Bear Mountain, and am actively trying to spend more time doing core exercises, toughening up the soles of my feet (see: spending more time barefoot) as well as exercises designed for overall stability, and hill climbing strength. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve, but they’re very much in the experimental stages right now, so I’ll only allude to their existence at the moment, and if they seem to be helpful, I’ll write about them later (diet, mid-run fueling, hydration etc etc etc).

I also tried some “alternative” therapies

Failed Recovery

I’ve fallen victim to one of the cliche troubles with running ultra-distances, the post-race injury. It seems that this is a rather common occurrence, and, to me at least, seems to make sense. After training at a sub-maximal level for months on end, topping mileage out at a near maximal level, eventually the body simply needs a rest, which should commonly come before the race (see: taper) and then afterwards in the recovery phase. However, like any over-zealous cocky runner who see’s his fitness as having peaked for a race, I decided to begin running again immediately, on what were obviously sore/tired/un-healed legs, and have as a result, found myself dealing with ITBS.
ITBS, or Iliotibial band syndrome is probably best described here. Fundamentally it’s and inflamation of the IT band that manifests itself as lateral pain in the knee. So, as a result, I’m relegated to resting, icing, limping around (even though it no longer causes much discomfort, limiting the flexion of the knee reduces strain on the IT band, and should be advantageous in helping it heal) and generally doing…. nothing.
Since I cannot run, for at least a few more days (this is day six of consecutive non-running) I’ve found myself with an abundant amount of additional free time, which is… well, very strange. If I look at my average totals for the year thus far, I’ve “gained” at least a solid work-day’s worth of time, if not more, and frankly, the extra time, and inability to run is starting to get to me. So, with that in mind, I guess I’ll concentrate on some core work, continue icing the heck out of my knee/IT band, stretching, and pleading with my leg to hurry up and heal, as I have some over-training to get back to, and the trails are calling my name as I sit here, reading.

Recovery

It’s no surprise that a 50 mile race would leave me pretty beat up, after all, it’s quite a long distance to run, and definitely causes a lot of physical stress along the way. While all of my scrapes and bruises are for all intents and purposes, healed (okay, most of the scrapes are still showing, but they look way better, I swear!) I’m still feeling a good amount of the latent soreness/lethargy that you would associate with a sustained effort of that magnitude. With the help of my mortal enemies, the foam roller, and the stick, things are going okay, and here’s the recap.

Sunday things were overall really tight, and while I could move around pretty well, my overall fatigue level was surprising. I managed to eek out a half a mile running…. in a blisteringly fast 6 minutes before throwing in the towel. Then I spent the rest of the day drinking beer, lying on the couch, and watching reruns of Top Gear… Who says recovery isn’t fun!?

Monday I was feeling substantially better, albeit still rather sore/tired. So for the majority of the day, I didn’t do very much, just tried to eat my weight in protein/carbs/otherwise nutritious foods and drink as much water as I could, I also ran a single mile, somewhere in the mid 9 minute zone, it was tough, but didn’t feel as hurculean as the task seemed on Sunday. Also, my feet feel fine now, which is a pretty big deal considering how awful they felt at the end of Saturday.

Tuesday I’m beginning to feel increasingly human, as opposed to the zombie-like state I’d spent the previous two days in. I managed to muster up the energy to leave the house for a bit, run a mile in the 8min-ish area, and do some solid cooking. Walking down stairs in the early morning is still a bit troublesome, but getting better.

Wed, I’m almost back, ran 3.2 miles in the 8ish minute pace range, which felt surprisingly… normal. Still some latent soreness, and no sense of strength to push any harder, but it definitely felt good to feel like a runner, instead of a lazy couch potato.

Thurs. I’m planning on running the Broken Shin Loop tonight with the guys, although expecting to go pretty slowly, and hoping that tomorrow, or the following day I’ll be able to get out on the mountain for some “real” running, and begin training again very soon for my next race(s).

Early in the race, Shiggy
First few miles
Dave Franz (behind) Pacing and Motivating
Finish Line!

Finished

NF Bear Mountain Race Report

Like almost any race that starts as early as this one did (5am) one of the initial concerns is simply getting some sleep the night before. So, after a couple of hours under the covers, Dave, Gene, Sean and I woke up grabbed some coffee, and hit the road to pickup my bib and timing chip right before the start of the race.
Start to Anthony Wayne
Crossing the line at 5am, the course went immediately into the trails, as the leading runners fell into a single file group of about 30 runners, packed in rather tightly, especially considering that the sun wasn’t rising any time soon, forcing everyone to run with headlamps. With the course trending uphill, through mostly technical trail, the initial clump began to split. The runners fundamentally sorted into 2 groups, the lead pack, and a chase pack, although getting to the first aid station the chase pack was only a few hundred yards behind. Already carrying a handheld, I didn’t do anything at the aid station other than hand over my singlet to my crew.
Anthony Wayne to  Silvermine
 Leaving the first aid station, we started heading uphill, right back on technical trail, with a good amount of single-track. This seemed to be the section where most of the initial position jockeying would happen, as runners were beginning to get a feel for what the days running would be like, as well as the sort of trails that were were going to be in store for for the remainder of the day. When I hit the aid station, I dropped off my headlamp, and exchanged my now empty handheld for a freshly filled one.
Silvermine to Arden Valley Road
Honestly, I don’t recall very much during this section, other than some moderate jockeying for position, and a couple of really sweet downhills. I’m pretty sure that it was during this section that I linked up with Ryan and Jason, with whom I’d run through mile 27. Arden Valley would be the first aid station without crew access, and as a result of it being used for both the 50 Mile and the Marathon being run that day, they were limiting GU’s to one per runner, which meant that in the large gap of time between crew sightings I would exhaust my supply of GU(note: I was carrying up to4 GU’s at a time, which was ~2 hours of food, seeing as I would consume 1 GU every 30 minutes)
Arden Valley Road to Lake Skannatati
This was a relatively uneventful section of trail, excepting my now dwindling supplies. The group that we were running with had reduced from 6 or 7 to now 3, Ryan who would eventually DNF, and Jason who would end up finishing in 8th place. When we hit the aid station we all decided to take a little more time, drink as much as we could, and try to resupply before the long stretch of trail we had coming up.
Lake Skannatati to Camp Lanowa
The longest section of trail without any aid, this was also the most challenging portion of trail. Jason Ryan and I had decided to stick together until Lake Skannatati at the very least, knowing that running as part of a group is always much better than running alone, since it relieves you of the individual pacing burden, and the comradery takes your mind off of the mounting discomforts. By the time I finally got to Camp Lanowa, I was feeling a bit tired, and my feet were getting rather beat up from the constant wetness, and dirt coming into my shoes, so knowing that from here on out, I would have a pacer, I took a few moments to refill my supplies, finally put on some socks, and pound a redbull before Gene and I took off down the trail again.
Camp Lanowa to Tiorati 
But Gene, my legs hurt! In spite of loading up at the aid station, and finally putting on socks (which felt unbelievably good) I was still lagging from the previous sections grind. Gene was brilliant in encouraging an uphill powerhike, and downhill run strategy through this leg, and pushing me just enough to keep me moving well, without pushing too hard. When we hit the aid station, Gene asked them what place I was in, which turned out to be 15th overall, so we stocked up, and hit the trail, after first being left behind by another 50 miler, putting me in 16th overall.
Tiorati to Anthony Wayne
Hey, do you think you can catch that guy? This was arguably the nicest section of trail, rolling single-track, not very rocky (finally, something without F***ing rocks!!) and after a mile or so, we began to see 50k and marathoners for the first time in the day. Everybody loves having a carrot in front of them, so seeing other runners in front of me, I started to rely on my training miles, and start running at a good clip again, enjoying the fantastic trail, and picking off runners from the other races. When we got to Anthony Wayne, Sean was waiting with new handhelds for me, and I was able to exchange Gino for Dave heading into the final 10 miles.
Anthony Wayne to Queensboro
That ain’t so bad! What’s another 10 miles, right? feeling really beat up at this point, already 10 miles beyond my longest run, the alternation between feeling awesome, and like complete and total crap was in full-swing here. Gene had been a chatterbox for his pacing duties, alternating between trying to make me laugh, and trying to piss me off, Dave’s methods of distraction weren’t too dissimilar, but with a lot more singing. When we hit the Queensboro aid station, Dave subtlely let me know that the other 50 mile runner we ran into there had previously had a ~5 minute lead on me, so we hurriedly boogied out of the aid station (running obnoxiously quickly for the first 400 or so yards) to try to get a gap going.
Queensboro to 1777
This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco, this ain’t no fooling around. With Dave acting as a human jukebox, he soon realized that any time he broke into some talking heads, I could run faster. Although with one of the most difficult, and rocky ascent/descents all I could think about was how much my feet hurt, and how desperately I wanted to be off of this (insert a torrent of expletives and negative adjectives here) mountain. After grinding through this section, we finally made it to the last aid station.
1777-Finish
This is water. This is water. Dave kept saying this to remind me to be in the moment here, enjoy this, accept this, and for Pete’s sake, just keep running. There was less than a 5k between here and the finish line, mostly downhill, on some comparatively forgiving trail. Running the final mile as hard as I possibly could, crossing the finish line was a truly tremendous experience. 9 Hours, 3 Minutes and 35 seconds on trail, 50 miles, 7038′ of vertical gain, 7038′ of vertical loss, 15th place overall.

This was arguably one of the most challenging, and coolest experiences I’ve ever had. I really can’t thank Gene, Dave and Sean enough for their support throughout the race, as well as their pacing, and general encouragement. I figured out that I ate 16 GU’s, a couple of handfuls of pretzels, 8 S! caps, 1 Redbull, a few glasses of Mountain Dew and a lot of fluids, which worked out exceptionally well, since I didn’t “bonk” at any point, and managed to urinate with a decent amount of regularity. Now, my entire body is sore, much more so than it’s ever been, but it’s a good sore, the kind of soreness that you know you’ve truly earned.

They even let me pretend to pour pints!

  

Training Summary April 22-28

Sunday April 22 1 Mile 7:50 Very typical shakeout. I’ve been enjoying the idea of taking a nero every week, and for some reason Sunday’s seem like the best day for it.

Monday April 23 5.1 Miles 740′ :42 Painfully slow time, especially since my legs should  feel rather fresh, but instead, I was feeling like I had no business whatsoever running. It turns out, this is a sensation that I’d be dealing with for the majority of the week.

Tuesday April 24 5.1 Miles 740′ 38:38 More of a “typical” time for me on the power line trails, and while the stopwatch is respectable, the entirety of the run felt…. uncomfortable. I can’t seem to find my groove, there’s no sense of flow, which is incredibly frustrating. Usually on any route I run with some regularity there are a few spots where I can just let loose, but for whatever reason, I’m feeling unable to get that sensation.

Wed April 25 5.1 Miles 740′ 38:13 Hitting the splits, but feeling like shit, ugh.

Thurs April 26 10.2 Miles 1480′ 1:22 Doubled the power line trails, feeling okay on the first loop, and very mercurial on the second pass. Nothing specific seems to be dragging me down, just generally not feeling fast.

Friday April 27 5.1 Miles 740′ 39:35 Finally feeling okay, not particularly great, just, fine.

Saturday April 28 11.6 Miles 1500′ 1:43 Allamuchy trails, and certainly the most ambitious run of the week. This morning was the first time all week that I genuinely felt like a well-trained runner. It’s also the first time of the year that I deliberately avoided power-hiking the steepest sections of the trail (which, for all intents and purposes should be hiked, it’s arguably as fast, and less stressful on the legs). The overall time is probably on the lower-end of average for the past several months, and ~5 mins slower than my course PR. That being said, I wasn’t particularly trying to push today, but mostly concentrating on consistency of effort, and trying to enjoy myself after a week of definite slogging.

Totals: 43.2 Miles, 5940′ Vert, 5h51m

By a long shot, the fewest miles I’ve run in a week since the first of the year (~60% of my average weekly tally). In spite of the obvious slogging both mentally and physically over the course of the week, I think it was still relatively productive. Some consistent GI discomfort has made me surprisingly comfortable with the inevitable fact that I don’t have the strongest stomach. I’m also relatively comfortable, and confident in the fact that I can continue to run (usually relatively well….) when the wheels begin to fall off, and I begin to certifiably feel like crap. Also, by running shorter distances this week, I’ve really begun to notice how long it takes my body/legs to warm up, and feel comfortable, which I think had a lot to do with the general unease in my five mile trips (it tends to take at least 5 to start feeling good.. minimum 30 minutes of movement). With that in mind, the next week is going to be even more severe of a taper, hopefully with a little bit of a concentration on some inclines, in an attempt to relieve the remainder of my lingering soreness, without compromising any fitness.