The first group run, all over again

Last night was the Reach the Beacon group's first meeting - and man was the store crowded. I spotted quite a few of the runner's from last year's group, too, who had come back for another round.

Unlike me, however, many of them have been running all winter (which was evident just by looking at them). They looked svelte! They looked like runners! So that's what "in shape" looks like. Good to know.

I'm sure they could just as easily tell that I have NOT been running all winter. I have been semi-consistently hitting the gym since January. Nothing too intense, but it at least puts me ahead of where I was this time last year (but not by much).

Don't get me wrong, I still have issues with the pants (you know, that looming tower of too-tight trousers that's been illegally squatting in my closet for...well...a long, long time).

But this isn't about pants.

It's about taking that first step (for the second time) towards a goal that's four-plus months out.

Once John Rogers and lead trainer Michael Gaige spoke to the group about the program and what to expect, we broke out into training groups. Can't run 20 minutes on a track without stopping to walk? Right over here, folks.

The more capable runners did a 30-minute run on the Back Cove trail. We "less-capable" runners did a 20-minute walk/run. It was supposed to be an alternate of 2 minutes running, 3 minutes walking. Sounds like a cake walk, right?

But imagine having forgotten your watch, so you're reliant on the runners in front of you. And imagine that, five minutes in, they decide that the 2:3 ratio is too easy, so they just keep running.

You're plugging along, making conversation and trying to distract yourself from the fact that this seems like WAY LONGER than 2 minutes, but you don't dare stop before they do.

At any rate, 20 minutes goes by in a flash. It's a good welcome to the program run (especially for all those people who showed up thinking, "They won't make us run on the first day"). Um, yes they will. At least yesterday was precipitation free, kind of sunny and not bone-chilling cold.

Last year's first run was done in three inches of slush during a snow storm (uphill both ways and barefoot, of course).

It was one of those sloppy early spring days that kind of tick you off because you've been shoveling snow for what seems like eternity and while you like snow just as much as the next guy you've hit some sort of snow acceptance limit and the thought of scraping off your windshield one more time starts you twitching ever so slightly - nothing too wild or anything it's just the past few days were kind of mild and you thought all this white stuff was a thing of the past but now it's back and you don't know why because the calendar says 'spring' dammit!

You know, one of those days like today.

I'm not bitter.

So shoe me

Among the many learnings from last year's training (it's NOT good to slam a Monster energy drink just before a run, coffee is NOT an essential part of pre-race preparation, chafing is NOT a welcome aftereffect of exercise) the most profound one is: don't wear crap shoes.

After all, it was an injury that sidelined me at mile three of the B2B last year - an injury instigated by bad footwear. It's not that the shoes were inherently bad - they didn't torture small animals when they were young or steal money from their grandmother's purse. They were just worn out. They'd lost all support.

So getting new shoes was a priority this time around. But I wasn't going to make the same mistake I'd made before - thinking I could grab a pair of running shoes off the clearance rack at DSW. Sure, paying $30 for running shoes feels good at first...but 10 miles and two pulled muscles later it doesn't seem like such a bargain.

Yesterday I headed over to Maine Running Company to get help finding the right shoes for me. I knew it'd cost more than $30, but when it comes to not committing the same sins two years in a row, I'm willing to spend a few extra coins.

One interesting thing I didn't know about running shoes: they should be a half size larger than your regular shoes ('cuz feet sweat and swell and if you're running longer distances your toes will be crushed up against the front of the shoe). There should be "a thumbnail's length" between the front of the shoe and your toes, according to the saleswoman.

There are some cool toys available for testing your feet - like the pads you stand on that gauge how your feet are bearing your weight. (My weight is all on the heels - and my arch is nowhere to be found.)

You may also be asked to hop on the treadmill to have your gait tested. They just had me walk barefoot to the far wall and back to see my feet in action (I won't hide my disappointment over not getting to use the treadmill) and I apparently didn't have any issues with pronation (pronation's when - after your heel strikes the ground - your arches collapse too far inward).

We found a pair of Mizunos that were the same style as a pair I'd had before and liked. A brief jog on the treadmill to confirm that they felt good and (woohoo!) I had a new pair of shoes.

But the day wasn't all rubber soles and joy. Within hours of bringing home the new footwear, my old shoes breathed their last breath and crossed over into shoe heaven.

I attended the funeral this morning:

Beach to Beacon: The Comeback Tour

It's possible that I'm quite simply a glutton for punishment. It might explain why in college I subsisted mainly on family-size boxes of cereal - "Kix" and "Smacks" to be exact. It was a few years later that I realized the masochistic implications of my cereal choices.

But I'd like to think that a second attempt at the Beach to Beacon 10K (following
last year's less-than-triumphant outcome) is a sign of courage, determination and inner strength. And by "inner strength" I mean the desire to quit living in shame.

I knew on August 5, 2007 (the day after the 2007 B2B) that I had to run it again this year. I couldn't let "I made it to mile three and then died" be the finale. I couldn't go out like that. I couldn't forever be haunted by feelings of running inadequacy.

But blog again? I wasn't so sure. It's a risky thing, building up the expectation like that, unsure if you're really going to be able to follow through.

I gave it some thought and decided that if I'm going to put myself through it again then I might as well allow readers to laugh at it (read: me) again, should they care to do so.

Besides, it's always nice to have people cheering you on, whatever your endeavor. And I had plenty of cheering last year from commenters on this blog, who offered words of encouragement, welcome advice and tips on which beer has the least amount of carbs.

In fact, I felt a bit like I had let those generous commenters down. So to them I say: This run's for you. I'm going to finish what I started last year. I'm going to own this race. I'm going to taunt every mile as I go. I'm going to tie this race to a parking meter and slap it around.

Er, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. That's the kind of talk that gets you into trouble (and by "trouble" I mean "six months in a Brazilian prison." But I'm not allowed to talk about that).

Let it suffice to say that I'm going to try my damnedest.

And here's the larger view of the blog image, which I happen to find highly entertaining. Thanks to my colleague, Kate, who made the "Redemption" connection and had the idea for this photo. It works on so many levels.

Orientation for the Reach the Beacon program (brought to you by Maine Running Company) kicks off this Thursday. The program is apparently booked to capacity, so it should be an interesting ride.

On that note, I'm ready to get this party started.