The Spectator's Report

This past weekend I traveled to the Vancouver Marathon. My plan was to run it but a late-week diagnosis of stress fractures in my leg sidelined me and put a serious crimp in my plan to submit a mile-by-mile race report for this month’s Real Running. Since my friend Cap’n Ron was planning to run, I decided at the last minute to tag along in a role completely foreign to me: spectator.

The thing is, I had no idea how to be a spectator. My inexplicably devoted partner has mastered the art, and while I knew I couldn’t hope to come close to matching her standard, I took some cues from her in preparation for the role.

As with any good role, that of spectator requires research and planning. I made sure to study the course map to look for likely viewing locations and areas where meeting up with Cap’n Ron would be easiest. You have to be strategic in this planning. Do you want to see your runner as many times as possible or at the most beneficial location? Or do you want to go the NASCAR way and camp out at mile 22 to watch the wheels come off as runners hit the wall?

I went with frequency. I marked my map for miles 7, 10, and 17 and did the math to figure out when Cap’n Ron would be at each marker. Math is hard, but I worked it out. There’s an app for that.

With my carefully packed bag – water, gel packs, dry clothes, camera, notebook, map of the city – I watched a marathon from the sidelines for the first time. As with most things in life, it’s the people you meet along the way that are the most interesting, and you just don’t notice them when you are running. Like a real journalist I took out my notebook and camera and got down to work.

Around the starting line there were mostly huge families in matching t-shirts out to cheer on cousin Bobby who was running his first marathon. “Run Bobby Run” indeed. This crowd watches their runner pass by and heads right back for the hospitality tent to wait for the finish and to drink coffee.

As I packed up and started across town to my first scheduled stop, I took the time to chat with Homeless Bill. That’s really what he called himself. Bill loves Marathon Sunday. As he casually walked along the second mile of the course stuffing discarded gloves, hats, and shirts into his bag, he told me that race day provides him with clothes for the entire year. I took Bill to Starbucks for a cuppa and a bite, and went on to Mile 7.

There I met Volunteer Woman. Zero connection to running or to the marathon. Just liked to “do stuff.” Her job? Stand in the rain and tell people to turn left and go up the hill. In the rain. For 5 hours. Back to Starbucks I went to bring Volunteer a warm up.

At mile 10 I took a shift handing out water with kids from a local elementary school. I retroactively apologize to every volunteer I have ever spilled water on. Sheesh. Those people get soaked! Kudos to Vancouver, by the way, for using filtered water and biodegradable cups.

At mile 17 a crowd had formed. While waiting for Cap’n Ron to come up the hill I met Larry. Larry and his wife Katherine are both marathoners, but they take turns at races. Katherine ran Los Angeles. Larry ran Boston. Katherine ran Vancouver…

I also met another kind of spectator: the confused local. Desiree wandered out of her apartment to see what the hubbub was about and ended up staying. “Is it ok to cheer for people you don’t know?” It is, Desiree. And us runners sort of count on it. “Are these runners fast?” Well…everything is relative, Desiree.

And of course there are the finish liners. Rooting for the downtrodden, the unlikely half-marathon finishers, and anyone in a costume. Completely ignoring the young man from Everett who smashed his PR by 14 minutes and finished at 2:59:58…

Congratulations to everyone who watched a marathon this month. Great work out there.

Final Lesson: I now believe strongly that anyone who runs more than one race a year should be required to volunteer for at least one more. All of you who skip the Seattle Marathon because it’s too cold or too close to Thanksgiving should still come out and sip a latte on the sidelines in Madison Park. Even if you don’t formally volunteer, take one weekend off and go out to the race to watch and support the runners. I think we should have a category for this on our PR lists: number of races observed.

Coming Back

As you will learn in this month's print feature from Real Running, I ended up having to skip the Vancouver Marathon due to stress fractures in my lower leg. The MRI doesn't lie.

So now here I am thinking about how and when to get back into my shoes and start running, and what to do this time around so that I don't train for months only to stand on the sidelines as the Portland Marathon goes past me. Not that I don't love shaking a cowbell now and again.

So let's take this step by step. Literally.

Step One: Doctor Approval. You know those ads for exercise balls and bungie cord workout plans that tell you to consult your doctor before starting any exercise program? How many people do you think really do that? I imagine Dr. Hilarious receiving dozens of calls a day: "Hi doctor, I was thinking about walking briskly today, is that ok?"

Well, this is a case where you absolutely have to consult a doctor. If you live in Canada, you can do this. Those of you in the states? You're on your own.

If a doctor told you to stop running, you need to wait until said doctor gives you clearance to run again. In my case this meant 3 weeks of no running and minimal impact. I'm coming up on that three weeks right...NOW.

One of the most common injury recovery mistakes is coming back too early. Especially if your injury, like mine, was an overuse injury, you need to take your doctor's advice and be conservative with your return time. Sorry. While you're waiting for your return, focus on cross training. Every beer weighs 12 ounces PLUS the weight of the glass or bottle...(Which reminds me, you probably gained a little weight along the injury trail. Keep that in mind on your first time out.)

Step Two: Fix the Problem. An overuse injury will heal, but unless you fix the underlying problem, it will just happen again. More likely, you will suffer a different but related injury the next time around. So before you lace up the shoes and joyously return to the track, let's slow down there, cowboy.

One way to fix the problem is to quit running. Consider that first. Realize that it isn't an option? Good.

Take a look at your shoes. Tired old rubber with weak stitching and rotten insoles? Those don't help. Take the time to get a GOOD fitting and to find the right shoe for you. Real Running resists the urge to promote a specific product or store without endorsement contracts (hint hint) so let me just say that finding a reputable, local store operated by actual runners who are trained to fit running shoes is important. Ask around. And shop around. If a salesperson doesn't watch you run but just sticks you in a pair of stability shoes, move along. Get the right shoe. And once you know what your shoe is, go online and buy as many pairs as you can before the manufacturer changes them! And no, I don't really want to entire the debate over barefoot running. But thanks.

Then, take a look at your form. Most of us in Real Running World aren't track athletes and don't have coaches. Most of us just go out and run. And this is fine until you start building up the miles. Proper form makes you faster, more efficient, and less injury prone.

Here's a hint: if you are striking heel first, you are seriously abusing your skeleton. And as we know from Scooby Doo, skeletons are scary when they're mad.

Take some time during your first few runs back after an injury to really concentrate on form. Go to the track (I know, I hate the track too) and have someone take some photos of your foot strike and stance. Shoot some cheap cellphone video of your running stride and analyze it for movements that cause stress on the body. Then fix it. Fix it BEFORE your mileage starts to build up.

Fixing your form will keep injuries down and will probably make you faster and more efficient. Seems worth it. And it's free. No gizmos or gadgets. No bands, fuels, or fabrics. Just better biomechanics.

Step Three: Change the Game. So your doctor says you can run. You've found the right shoe. You've repaired that crazy gait of yours. Let's take a look at one more element that probably caused your injury in the first place: your plan.

Combined with biomechanical issues, simple overuse is what does you in. It's hard to get seriously hurt if you never run more than a few miles. But once the miles creep into the double digits, things can go wrong.

This isn't to say you can't get the miles loaded up before the next marathon, but you have to, for once in your life, be smart about this. Build, but build slowly.

Never add more than 20% distance from one long run to the next. If you ran 10 miles last Sunday, don't run more than 12 this Sunday. Simple math. Even for me.

I have started to seriously question the wisdom of 20+ mile runs for recreational marathon training. It's after 20 that injuries seem to set in, and there are plenty of coaches out there who don't advocate anything over 18. This time around, I am staying below 20 on all of my long runs. Instead I am running on time.

Rather than training to a distance, I am training to a time. The idea in long runs is to condition your body into sustained effort over a long period of time. Rather than measuring your runs on distance - which encourages a fast pace, which encourages poor form, which causes injury - set your watch to let you know when you have reached halfway, and then just turn around. 15 minutes out and 15 back is a great short run. 2 hours out and 2 hours back is a torturous, horrifying, painful long run. But neither encourages injury.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go out and try to break all of these rules. Do as I say, not as I do.