Good ol’ Rinker, assistant coach to the OTC, hasn’t slept since 2007.

Molly Huddle and Chris Solinsky both had fantastic track seasons this year. They each set an American Record, proved they can run with anybody in the world and in doing so accomplished exactly what Julia and I are trying to do.

I don’t know why Molly and Chris are running as well as they are and I doubt if they know exactly why either. The fact is, runners don’t just improve steadily and smoothly. We have big jumps, slumps and plateaus and most of the time we can never explain them. We’ve all hear it a million times: the key to running well is consistent training. I’m sure that’s true, but to be honest I don’t really know what that means.

Does it mean running tons of miles consistently? Does it mean doing core work and stretching and icing consistently? Does it mean always doing everything well and right no matter what consistently? What about balance in their lives? Do Chris and Molly enjoy drinking a beer or two with their friends? (I know the answer to this one firsthand) Do they take days off? What’s the formula?

I think that both Chris and Molly would agree that the value of consistency lies mostly in keeping your head down, and just doing what you’ve got to do. Not making a rigid plan of consistency for the next 4 years of life; not turning your life upside-down to fit the mould of the ideal athlete. Just, every day, one moment to the next, doing what you have to do to become just a little bit better.

Well, with the goal of being next year’s Chris Solinsky, I’m going to tackle things one at a time. Consistency will be the common denominator, but it needs to apply to more than just getting out the door. We’ll talk more about the specifics in the future but today’s number one is diet.

Specifically, I’m going to eat more. That doesn’t mean a pint of Ben and Jerry’s before bed; instead, I’m going to be more diligent about having things at home to eat during the day. We almost aways have some big pile of delicious and healthy things for dinner (thanks to Julia) so that’s already taken care of, but honestly my nutrition during the rest of the day is anything but consistent. I’ll get lazy or tired or distracted, and that’s no excuse for neglecting the quality or quantity of my fuel.

So, Dear Internet, I pledge that from now on I will consistently eat smoothies and sandwiches during the day instead of scones and muffins. Hold me to it!

-Ian

Who am I kidding? I knew it all along. I’ve had too many stress fractures not to recognize that old familiar ache: deep and low and unsettling, like a creaky door all up and down my body.

This is my 8th stress fracture. My teenage years were a mess of gangles and elbows and completely superfluous bras. It’s hardly a surprise I broke from time to time. In college my thighs caught up to the circumfrence of my head, and I gained the strength to support my own body against the force of gravity. I was fracture-free for 7 years. Then, in 2008, when the Olympic Trials were upon me and I had barely a shot in hell, I took that shot and ran with it. I ran a lot, and hard, and broke all over again, daggummit. And again, 2 years later, with a new team and a new coach and my muscles veritably buzzing around me, a bone fractured again. In my foot. My 3rd metatarsal. (Can someone please link me to this post next time I start to get excited?)

At least I’ve got experience. So, I’ll tell you what I’ll do:

1) I will have a one day pity-party. (check)
2) I will make a list of things I can do to help speed up the recovery. (check)
3) I will make a list of things I can do to help my future self run fast and win races. (check)
4) I will do those things listed above obsessively with a little spark of crazy in my eye. (so far so good)

And, that’s what the next few weeks will be about. Team practice starts in mid-October, and I hope to be back and running at that time. Between then and now I will not be taking a break. I do not want a break. I’m sick of breaks. I will be chipping away at all my weaknesses, crafting this flawed body into a stronger and looser and more supple version of itself. It will be tedious. I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.

-Julia

My running buddy just about had a career-ender today. Somehow, while getting a belly rub in the sun, Chap got her Achilles Tendon stuck in the decorative loop on the foot of our metal patio table. In the 15 or so seconds that it took for us to get her loose she writhed and howled and I imagined an Achilles-less pup sitting sadly at the door every time I left for a run. It was an awful feeling. In the five months that we’ve had Chap she’s become my #1 training partner and the thought of her injured was a real bummer. Luckily, we got her freed without amputation (but not before she peed on herself) and all is well.

So, with a reinvigorated appreciation for my girl I went out and bought the new Runner’s World, which features a whole section on running with dogs. I opened right to that feature and I ploughed voraciously through all the doggy info…which didn’t take long. Let me be clear: I like Runner’s World. Sure, it’s in large part geared towards beginners runners, but it’s got some great features, good information, and it’s all about one of my favorite things!

That said, their series of articles on running with dogs didn’t give me much in the way of new information. So, since this is the internet, I’m proclaiming myself the authority on all things Dog and Running and will now attempt to fill in some gaps.

Here are 10 bits of advice on running with dogs:

1. Train your dog to run on leash the same way you teach him to walk on leash. Carry treats, change directions, keep your dog guessing what’s next so he has to follow you. (To be fair, RW Online has some good info on this, it just didn’t make it into the print version.) Ian Dunbar is a good dog trainer who has lots of very helpful information and videos about training you dog to walk well on a leash on his website, www.dogstardaily.com.

2. Make it a game. Teach your dog to jump on benches, go around trees, and etc. at your direction. to keep him interested. Some dogs drag even when they’re not tired or get distracted and pull if they get bored. It’ll be more fun for both of you if you keep things interesting.

3. Feed your dog the best food you can. A raw diet seems to be best, but even with kibble there’s lots of variety. Avoid kibble with grain meals, animal by-product meals, and ingredients like dried beet pulp which act as low quality fillers. There are tons of different commercial raw food brands out there. Or, you can mix nutritious additives in with your dogs kibble. Read more about specifics here.

4. Use your dog to get yourself out to better running trails. Instead of running the same old neighborhood loop where your dog has to be leashed, go to trails where he may be able to run off leash and you’ll both get a better run. RW has a pro/con for running dogs off leash. The issue is a good one to touch on, but the solution is simply to use common sense: don’t let your dog off leash if there are cars or lots of kids around, make sure you have voice control over your dog before letting him off leash, etc.

5. Keep your dog lean. Dogs should be lean and muscular, not round and waddley!

6. Keep it simple. Don’t “clutter” your run with extra dog gear. I have the leash, a poop bag in my waistband and that’s it. We love running for it’s simplicity, don’t let your dog make it complicated; he sure as hell don’t want it to be that way! There may be times when booties or packs for your dog are necessary, but those times are most likely an exception.

7. Have realistic expectations. Expect that it’s going to take a period of months to turn your dog into a well-behaved running partner. It’s not your dogs fault that he wants to chase squirrels so don’t get mad at him when he does. He may need guidance but getting mad will definitely not work. There will be frustrating runs but don’t let them discourage you; it will be worth it if you sick to it and follow a consistent plan.

8. Use dog parks. Here in Eugene we’re lucky enough to have some dog parks big enough to run loops in. But sometimes I just let Chap run off a few minutes of energy in the park before we take off on a leashed run elsewhere. That way she doesn’t spend the first few minutes of the run relieving herself and pulling on the leash excitedly. Dogs need time to relax. We ask them to change so many things for us that it’s only fair that we should reward them by letting them run free. That can be at a dog park but there are plenty of other places that would work too. One of my favorites is to go to a school playground (one that’s not being used at the time) and play with Chap on the slide and tunnels and stairs. She can run around however she wants and we both have a great time. This goes a long way in satiating her drive to play so that when we’re running she’s more likely to be all business.

9. Greet people you encounter on runs. Whether on leash or off you should show your dog that the approaching person is nice and you’re happy to see them – no need to be suspicious or act unfriendly.

10. Be attentive to your dog. I think most dogs are like Chap in that they’ll gladly run themselves into the group to keep up with us. It’s our responsibility to make sure they have enough water, are fit enough to handle the runs, and don’t develop any injuries. It’s also our responsibility to make sure it’s not too hot or too cold and that they don’t run too soon after eating (gastric torsion can be life-threatening and is often caused a dog running on a full stomach).

There’s a lot of information available from a lot of sources, so do your own research and see what works. Here are a few links to get you started:
Dogtime.com
Youtube.com videos with Ian Dunbar
Loveyourdog.com
Clicker training approach to running with your dog
A blog all about running with your dog
and another one!

Try not to get frustrated (even though you most definitely will), and good luck!

-Ian

PS An added perk: a tired dog is a good dog

I used to fantasize about my future as a professional runner. With my forehead resting on the school bus window I’d play my future race reels with my stomach in my chest. Sometimes I’d lead from the gun and sometimes I’d win by a nose with a lean at the tape. I assumed, of course, that I’d eventually be the fastest runner in the world.

I never stopped envisioning those moments, just like I never stopped jotting splits in the margins of my notes or rehearsing my victory elation. But, as time went by and the option of a career in the sport became a reality, my fantasies expanded. I would not only travel the world and compete for stadiums of roaring fans, I’d also get to take naps! I’d have long, leisurely breakfasts. I’d read a book every other day and I’d savor every idle moment.

As life filled up and school, running and *ahem* my social life became more demanding, those were the fantasies that filled my bleary mind. I would never again rush through a practice! I would never again get up at 5:30 for a long run! I would never again cool down on my way to geology class, discretely take off my wet sports bra at the back of the lecture hall, or watch sweat drip off the end of my nose and onto my notes/disgusted classmates.

With 3 years of professional runner-dom under my belt, I will say I have all the time I anticipated having. There is time in the day for everything. There is time enough for sleep, and time to make good breakfasts, lunches and dinners every day of the week. Time is never an excuse not to stretch or ice or rush through any weights or therapy. And, when all we’re doing is waiting for time to pass, as is the case with me and my healing foot and Ian and his recovering body, time grinds to a halt.

This Saturday I’ll get to take my first tentative jogging steps on the alter g treadmill. Until then I’m spending a lot of time under water and ever more time poking at my foot. Ian’s blood tests are headed in the right direction and he’s continuing with the easy running and hard recovering. This post, like today and yesterday and tomorrow, is mostly just filler. We’re filling the day and attempting to keep our thoughts elsewhere as we wait for time to pass.

-Julia

All I want to do is run. I don’t want to go anywhere or do anything or have any fun. I just want to run.

I am chagrin to admit that in my ignorant past I may not have fully appreciated my way of life. I may have even complained. Oh, what a fool I was!

Give me the fatigue, the sore muscles, the the brain fog, the 9:30 bedtime and its accompanying social suicide. I will not complain.

If after these 2 weeks of cross training my right foot stops its aching I will never, ever again take for granted a single step. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.

-Julia

PS Speaking of eyes, on my 2 hour bike yesterday a giant bug hit me directly in my eyeball, causing me to swerve and nearly hit a toddler.

Guess what guys? Someone paid me money for my thoughts. More than a penny! Pfft. Chumps.

Some of you, (ahem, Paul and David) are way ahead of me, but for the rest of you: In my very first foray into for real writerdom I interviewed Shalane Flanagan, Lauren Fleshman, and my husband about what they do to recover between workouts. Check it out in the September issue of Running Times!

And now, let me be candid. It is an incredible honor to be asked to contribute to a source as reputable and respected as Running Times. It is surreal and exciting and electric to consider the possibility of becoming a writer, a real one. But, it’s just not what I’m doing right now. Writing’s not where I’m at.

Don’t think I’m jaded. I took this article very seriously. I did 10 interviews I didn’t use. I bought 5 copies, mention my “freelance work,” as often as possible in unrelated conversation, and anxiously await reading my own words in the October and November issues of Running Times as well. I hope to be writing more in the future, and to get a whole lot better at it. But, for now it is not the priority. To read “by Julia Lucas” at the top of the page is very cool,

but I want to be on the cover.

-Julia

We’re still unpacking from the trip and the whole house smells like summer camp. Remember that? Mildew and dirt and s’mores? I figure as long as everything I own is wet we still have free reign to jabber on about our trip. For the most part, we couldn’t do much better than a long string of happy pictures, so that’s what we’ll give you. There was one destination, however, that deserves a little more attention.

The first destination of the trip was Steens Mountain Running Camp. Steens is located about an hour and a half outside of Burns, OR, which is to say it’s precisely in the middle of nowhere. And, that’s part of the appeal; there’s no phone, no outlets, no roofs and it’s not easy to get to, so everyone is already really invested in being there. I hadn’t been to Steens in ten years (I went three times as a camper and once as a counselor) and as Julia and I made the six-hour drive through tumbleweeds and ghost towns (with me telling Steens Stories the whole way) I wondered how much it might have changed. Julia was skeptical too. Nearly all my memories of Steens had something to do with lightning, the Burns Emergency Room or throwing up, so I can’t blame her.

Happily, Steens didn’t disappoint. We got to camp on Tuesday evening, right as campers were finishing The Big Day. The Big Day is a 30 mile hike/run that takes the campers down one massive gorge, up another, and finally back to camp after an entire day (at least 10 hours) on their feet. The end was exactly as I remembered: everyone shuffling slowing on sore legs, covered with dust, sweat and scratches, and looking as happy as can be! A camper threw up next to us in the dinner line and two people had to go to the emergency room (everyone ended up ok) so Julia had to admit I hadn’t been exaggerating.

Harland Yriarte, the Steens Camp Director, uses the term “Flatland America” in reference to what he’s trying to get kids away from at Steens. There are no showers, flush toilets or beds. Everyone waits in the same long lines for food, helps with the dishes, cleans the tents and everyone is humbled in some way during the week. I’ve worked at and visited my fair share of high school camps but I’ve never seen another group of high schoolers just sitting around camp fires all evening. No one’s getting in trouble, no one’s showing off; these kids are tired and happy.

I don’t think I can really describe that essential part of Steens that makes it unique. Part of it is that kids are being challenged in ways they never have been. Running more than they ever have, living primitevely, navigating through uncut sagebrush and high desert on an everyday basis; that’s refreshing, but there’s more to it. Steens has those intangible things Julia and I have been looking for and trying to create for ourselves over the last year: it’s inspiring and unusual and fun and that pretty much sums up what we’re shooting for.

-Ian

PS Chap LOVED it there. No paved roads, no leashes, 150 kids to feed her scraps. . . I think Chap will always resent us for not staying there forever.

PPS Enjoy the pictures, brought to you by Kevin Jantzer.  You can see a whole bunch more pictures at Steen’s site.

Did I say I’d write Tuesday? I meant a week from Tuesday, so…I’m early! My mother just called to make sure I hadn’t been eaten by a bear. I figure that means we’ve been away too long. Let’s catch up:

The date was July 30th. The time was 10:30 PM. We were behind schedule. Our race was 12 hours away and we were all (Ian, me and Chap) getting cranky. We’d spent far too long leaning over a bad map and bickering our way to our reserved campsite, only to discover it was less a campground and more a grassy median in a sprawling lakeside parking lot. Tired and creaky from a day full of driving, we made a half-hearted attempt at finding another site, then shrugged and pitched our tent next to the two other tents that already filled the median to overflowing. We dozed off at midnight to the sounds of drunken fireside warbling from our neighbors, whose sihouettes climbed our tent walls, backlit by the buzzing neon lights of the restrooms, scarcely 30 ft from our heads.

Four hours in to a night of fitful sleep we woke to peels of thunder in the distance. Moving quickly we staked down the tent and put up the rainfly in silent, well-practiced teamwork. Minutes later, back in the tent, the patters of rain turned to sheets as the storm approached. We lay on our backs, pulled our sleepingbags up to our chins, and watched he walls shake. Every few seconds I’d catch a blue-tinted glimpse of Ian’s wide eyes, mirroring mine, and it didn’t take long to unzip the tent and dash for the truck with puppy in tow. And that is where we three spent the night from 4:30 on.

7am came, bringing a beautiful day and not a hint of the previous night’s violence. We made oatmeal over an open flame, packed up the tent and arrived at the race site to meet Ian’s mom and the vat of coffee she so kindly gifted us.

All those who’ve raced and loved it know that the night before doesn’t matter a bit. While sleep is important in the long run, the adrenaline of the race or even the adrenaline of the thought of the race can carry us through most any glitch (including Ian’s consumption of expired peanut butter and subsequent barfing 20 minutes before the race).

The men began at 10:30, the women at 10:45. The race was 2 loops of a 7.5 kilometer course, which contained one comically gargantuan hill, several lesser hills, winding trails, open logging roads, and few rocky passes.

We were nervous beforehand because neither of us are particularly good technical trail runners. Tiptoeing though craggy single-tracks and freewheeling down sharp downhills are not Ian’s specialty, and they spell sure death for me. We’ve both encountered runners who aren’t competition on the track, but who outclass us when it comes to skimming over rugged terrain. I don’t know what they’re doing differently, but we’ll look up after crossing a stream bed and they’re suddenly 50m ahead. We knew we’d be the fastest over the flat sections. Our plan was to maintain effort over the technical stretches, and to make up ground on the flat.

As for the distance, Ian has run 1/2 marathons, with a PR of 62:32, so he was comfortable with a 15k and coached me through my first one. We agreed I wouldn’t break away until the 1/2 way point, if then, and that I’d save enough for a sprint if that were necessary.

And, it was fun and uneventful. Both of us won by comfortable margins (Ian by 3:00!) and ran much of the race by ourselves. I learned that during the course of a 15k by myself, I think more thoughts than I typically do in a week, and then have time to think them all over again. I’m glad to have a 15k under my belt going into my longer fall races of the next couple months. Our finishing times of 59:55 (6:00 pace) and 50:42(5:24 pace) illustrate the absurdity of the course.

It was my first win in…3 years and Ian’s first in…he can’t remember. At least 2. A terrific way to start a season. And here is the evidence:

-Julia

Hi guys, we won! It as great! I barely fell at all! But, we don’t have time to talk about it.

As you know, we’ve been camping in the boonies without reception or internet or electricity, so you’ll have to forgive our internet absence. I’m currently writing as fast as I can at a rest stop while Ian sighs over my shoulder. Cross my heart, hope to die, race report coming Tuesday. Here’s what the week before the race looked like.  Best vacation ever:

-Julia

We left right on time yesterday, 7 hours late.

I don’t have any experience with Dobson family trips, but I know that we in the Lucas clan always plan to be out the door at 6AM, always ended up leaving after lunch, and never offer any an explanation for, or even acknowledgment of the delay.

Ian and I planned to leave as soon as we got up, drive an hour to run at the dense green wonderland of trails that make up Descutes national forest, and continue on to make Steens Mountain running camp by dinner time.

Predictably, we left at 3pm and only got as far as Bend, which is 2 hours down the road. I am writing this from outside the tent, in which Ian is still snoring. Oops.

Believe it or not, it wasn’t strictly a case of already-established irresponsibility. On Sunday Ian got home from the Stanford cross country camp sunburned and exhausted and smiling. He recounted how totally awesome it was in one long, unpunctuated, breathless shout, and then fell into bed.

So, why didn’t I just drag him out of bed? He is, after all, just the driver here. I’m the one getting ready for a race. It’s his off-season, and doing all the things that are generally inappropriate for a professional athlete to do are what the off-season is all about.

Well, dear runners, Ian will be lacin’ em up awith me on Saturday! I wonder how many Husband and Wife couples have swept national championships? Anybody know? We sure hope the join the ranks!

Time to hit the road!

-Julia