Menu

Aging & Performance

The Heat is On, Then Off

, , 0

This morning it was a cool, sunny sixty degrees.  Perfect running weather! The type of day that showcases Vermont in the summer.  It’s why people come here—to escape the big city summer heat.  But the past 10 days have not been like this.  Rather, it’s been hot, very hot.  Most days went well above 90, even approaching 100. A few thunderstorms temporarily cooled things off a bit, but they brought high humidity. And mornings were is the 70s, and a few days close to 80, something unheard of in Vermont. The “typical” July day here is a low of 60 and high of 80. But as we know, typical is becoming nostalgic.  The extremes are becoming normal and planning ahead problematic.  Climate change is having its way.

Yesterday, on July 4th, Green Mountain Athletic Association held the Clarence DeMar 5K road race in South Hero.  It’s been going on for over 40 years. In the past it had both 5K and 10K races. Now just the 5K.  The current course is a rather boring, out-and-back. Not a PR course but fair nevertheless. I think I’ve run it 12 times. CDM draws about 300 runners, starting at 8:30 a.m. to avoid a conflict with the annual town parade later that morning.  It draws many of the locals taking a break from fireworks and cookouts as well as people visiting friends and families in the area for the holiday.  There is a festive feel in the air.

This year it was 78 degrees at the start under partly sunny skies with very high humidity.  I have not run many races under those conditions. In New England, except for these mid-summer heat waves, the issue is usually about how many layers to wear. When it’s this hot, the wish is to be able to shed some of our skin. Clearly not an option, especially when layering on sunscreen.  

So, it was a day to be cautious.  And I was.  Ran pretty much even splits at a pace 10 seconds per mile slower than the prior year.  Interestingly, my age-graded time was about the same: just under 82%. I am, after all, a year older and expected to materially slow down each year.  Overall, I was pleased to finish in a decent time and age grading. But I’m definitely looking forward to running races in cooler weather down the road.  

I do notice that the heat impacts me more than it used to. The science says our internal venting systems lose some resilience. And I believe it. Yet, the races happen when they do and our choice is either to skip racing on a hot day or adjusting our expectations.  I am likely to opt for the latter.  

Running Science and Running-Specific Strength Training

, ,

As I was completing the bibliography for my book Staying With It, I leafed through Owen Anderson’s Running Science.  I bought this book shortly after it was published in 2013 after seeing a promotion by the publisher, Human Kinetics. I have occasionally scanned it for ideas and always come away with things to incorporate in my training.  It is not focused on aging runners (there is just ¾ of a page — out of 600 pages — addressing issues faced by older runners), though Anderson wrote it while in his 60s.

Anderson is a Ph.D. and meticulously documents and references everything he writes, which includes five books on running physiology, form, and run training.  He coaches some Kenyan runners, runs a sport performance business, and has been a race director. Meaning he’s all in. Along the way, he was a competitive (though not elite) runner who tested many of his practices in his own training. 

In Running Science, Anderson has a chapter entitled Running-Specific Strength Training. It describes and illustrates 14 exercises all geared toward increasing the propulsive force during stance, thus expanding stride length, one of the two components of speed (the other being cadence.)  He notes these exercises mimic the biomechanics of running whereas some exercises often done on machines in the gym, such as hamstring curls, do not strengthen the muscles in ways that optimally enhance running gait. The main reason is these exercises do not fully address the stretch-shortening cycle (SSC) which is when force is produced in the stance (foot on the ground) phase of the gait cycle. This is when the body is lifted off the ground and moved forward and, as noted, increases stride length. 

This program, which he suggests be done twice a week, is not for the casual runner.  Clearly it needs to be approached in a progressive way, but once up to speed, appears to take about an hour to go through, though he says splitting it up between days is an option. The issues often faced by older runners (hamstrings, calves, and Achilles) are at least partially addressed by this regimen.

Now that I’ve again browsed Running Science, I’m inclined to read it cover to cover.  There is so much in it that applies to all aged runners. Maybe when my book is published I’ll send Anderson a copy noting his entries in my bibliography and thanking him for his contributions to unraveling the mysteries of running science.

Ramblin’ On

,

I ran the James Joyce Ramble 10K in Dedham MA today, the 40th running of this race.  I have done it 12 or 13 times. The course is fair but challenging with a four-mile loop bookended by  a one-mile out and back at the start/finish.  What makes this event rather unique is that the founder, Martin Hanley, is a James Joyce afficionado and has always had readers along the course dressed in traditional Joyce garb quoting from the Ulysses. Today there were four readers clustered in the hilly fourth mile section through the Greenough and Nobles School campus, providing a welcomed distraction from those hills.  

This was the 11th straight year the Ramble has served as the National USATF Masters 10K Championship. Being a national race, it draws an impressive array of Masters runners from around the country.  More than half the field was from out of state. Those of us who have run these races over the years have gotten to know each other. These are the hard cores! While the national races are not large, the depth of the runners is deep. Case in point, the Masters race, which preceded the larger Citizen’s race by three minutes, had only 213 runners.  But 40% of the field achieved at least an 80% age-grading, a level considered national class, with many of those in the mid to high 80s and four over 90%, which is simply off the charts!  In most local races 1% to 3% might race above the 80% level.  Further, 58% age-graded at least at 75%, which denotes a high-level regional runner.  In comparison a typical race might have 6-8% achieving 75%.  Stiff competition!   

This is also a rare race (that is not a Senior Games event) where the 60+ year olds outnumbered those under 60, though the split was close. For the men 67 vs. 59; for women 45 vs. 43.  Granted, the field starts at 40 but it’s still great to be part of an event that values older runners while still drawing serious competitors at scale.  Yet, it does not obscure the fact that as we age, participation declines.  Combining the men and women, there were 29 in 70-74, 12 in 75-79, and 8 in 80+. An unusual result was that the largest men’s age group was 70-74 with 20 finishers.  Sometimes, it just works out that way.  In my 75-79 group, some of the “regulars” did not make it, which enabled me to take second out of seven with a time just 16 seconds slower than 2025, when I was fifth (the age-grade tables suggest I should have expected to slow by 52 seconds, so my age-grading improved year-over-year.)

It’s great having at least one National USATF Masters race in New England.  Overall attendance was down some this year and I wonder if the Ramble will make it to 12 straight in 2027.  A continuing drawback is the race is either one or two weeks after Boston — this year it was one week, which may have affected turnout.  

Meanwhile, we all keep ramblin’ on as best we can.

78 and Counting

, , ,

They just keep coming – those birthdays. Maybe when we were 8, 16, or even 21, we couldn’t wait until the next one.  No longer. Now we want them to stop.  Of course, we have no control over that. All that I can do is make the best use of the time given.  

Looking at the last 12 months, it was by many accounts a strong running year.  I was not constrained by injury for 10 ½ months of that year, exceeded an 80% age grading in 13 of the 16 races, topping out at 84% in a half marathon. I set two age-class course records in local races. Average weekly mileage was 26, just a hair above the prior 12 months. My 5K to 10K times held steady and in some cases decreased year-over-year, whereas the age-grade tables suggest I should have slowed 52 seconds for a 10K. In younger years, standing pat might have suggested a slacking off in training. As we move through our 70s that may instead indicate we are doing some of the right things. 

So, now it’s into a new year. What am I aiming for?  First, I’d like to achieve an 80% age-grading in races I’m intending to race hard, such as the series’ championship races. In fact, I hope to be closer to 82% as much as possible. I’d like to stay injury free for the full 12 months and average 30 miles a week, something I haven’t done in 11 years.  I see that as part of the push-back on aging. Lower base mileage works against us. In particular, I’d like to include a 12-miler about every three weeks. In addition, I see being more regular with hill work. While I have been pretty consistent with track workouts and form drills and look to maintain that, I think more targeted lower body strength work and flexibility are needed. I recently participated in a research study (see Data Collection post) and was embarrassed about how little strength and flexibility I showed. There’s work to do!

This will also be the year I publish Staying With It: Reflections on Running and Aging, a memoir type book composed of about 80 essays.  This is something I’ve put a lot of time into over the past eight months.  It will be gratifying to get it across the finish line, but then the question arises: How do I get it out there?

My first 78 year-old race will be the James Joyce Ramble 10K in Dedham MA in two weeks. This is a race I’ve run numerous times and it is the 10th year it has been the National Masters 10K Championship. A number of the top guns from around the country will be there. Don’t have to wait to test myself in a new year.

Overall, it’s good (great!) to still be running and have an opportunity to set running goals and shoot for them.  I don’t take that for granted. 

I Walked

, ,

It’s been some years since I’ve considered myself a hill runner. The same hills in races I do have become increasingly hard.  And this has morphed into a mental block.  I go to sleep the night before dreading the hills I will be running in the morning. 

Last Saturday I ran the hilly Frank Nealon 15K (a.k.a. the Boston Tune Up), which is part of this year’s Grand Prix series.  It is typically held two or three weeks before the Boston Marathon.  It’s now a modified out-and-back course with two loops in the middle. Leading up to the race, my mileage had been so-so, inching up toward 30 miles weekly after having run only 44 in January as I recovered from a glute medius issue. This had kept me from running the New Bedford Half Marathon in March, the first Grand Prix race. I had fit in a 9M and 10M run two weeks before the BTU, but my speed and hill work was lacking. Bottom line, I did not have a good feeling about this race.

So off we went. It was a good day for running – in the mid 50s and not too windy. My goal was to run an average 8:20 pace. Last year I had run 8:06, was in better shape and a year younger! Starting conservatively, the first three miles were net downhill and I averaged 8:08.  Then we came to the middle two miles – where the real hills were, with the steepest one in the middle of the fourth mile.  Both my cadence and stride length tanked as people started passing me, though some others were struggling as well. We were co-slogging!

I abhor walking in a race. I have not bought into the Galloway Run-Walk method. When I enter a race, it’s to run, not power walk.  It’s a pride thing I suppose. And deep down I think even a slow uphill jog is faster than walking.  So, I inched up this hill, turned a corner and saw an even steeper rise.  I was not enjoying it at all.  I started thinking about the reasons I had for skipping this race. Yet here I was, having made the effort to travel down from Vermont. Then I started thinking: “Hey, what do I really have to prove?” As I plodded along, I didn’t have an answer. So, almost reflexively I started walking, just for five or six seconds, and then resumed my slog.  After 15 seconds of that I walked another five or six seconds, then 15 seconds of slog before walking another few seconds and finally cresting the hill which quickly turned into a nice even downhill. 

Maybe that brief amount of walking gave me some respite so when the downhill came, I could pick it up.  Anyhow, post-race I saw my split for that mile was 8:43, which turned out to be my slowest mile enroute to an 8:22 average pace, just short of my goal.  Two other miles had good-sized hills and my time on those was 8:36 and 8:33, but I did not walk on them.  Maybe that was the difference. Not sure.   

I recall walking in the last eight miles of the 2001 Boston Marathon.  I had not finished Boston in the previous three tries and was determined to do so, even with some walking.  As I finished that race, I was relieved to be done without any memorable negative thoughts about having walked.  As I finished the BTU, the same thoughts emerged.  I had prevailed and run a race in a respectable time on a short base of training.  Now I needed to give myself a good week to recover with easy runs. 

I have an October half marathon scheduled with a sizable hill in mile 12. I don’t want to think I set a precedent at the BTU for walking there.  But if my training has been cut short, for whatever reason, and I still choose to run that race, a bit (just a bit!) of walking might be in order.

Data Collection

, ,

I was recently appointed as a Research Affiliate in the UVM Department of Rehabilitation and Movement Science.  The position is unpaid but enables me to fully participate with the two professors I’ve been working with on a research project comparing the biomechanics of runners over 50 and under 30 years of age.  The gist of the research is to understand how changes in the strength and flexibility in the lower extremities (ankles, knees, and hips) affects running gait and speed. It’s well established that the “float” (time off the ground) of older runners is shorter than younger runners.  It’s also known that this negatively affects stride length, one of the two components of speed (the other being cadence, or turnover.) Thus, this research study measures strength and flexibility in the lower extremity and then has subjects run a 1.5 mile time trial, during which they pass a point 15 times (the UVM track is 1/10th of a mile) where video is taken measuring each leg’s stride length and overall biomechanics.  A key goal of the research is to identify chronic weaknesses and imbalances that might lead to injury and by doing so, enable runners to address those things and be able to run into their senior years. We look to recruit 30 runners in each age group. Participants are scheduled for 90 minutes to complete needed paperwork and then do the exercises and time trial.  

Subjects in human studies are protected so: their data is held confidential; the perceived benefits from the research outweigh potential risks; there is not undue pressure to participate, and their safety is assured.  To be added to the study team, I was required to complete training applicable to research involving human subjects.  This enables me to recruit and engage with participants, answer questions, ensure they are eligible, gather their informed consent;, and then assist with data collection. It’s a lot of work on the part of PIs (principal investigators) to develop a study and gain approval from the local (UVM in this case) Institutional Review Board (IRB) and then be directly involved in data collection and analysis. It is due to this commitment on the part of researchers that new knowledge is gained and disseminated. 

Before I was added to the team, I was a participant in the study.  The data collection was done on the track I regularly run on during the winter.  (Great to have this option on cold and snowy days!) Since I regularly strength-train, I thought I would breeze through the strength and flexibility exercises before running the time trial. It was a wakeup call! The warm-up started with walking toe-touches. The goal was to keep the back straight while kicking my leg out and touching my toes.  I failed miserably – I was bent over, never got close to my toes, lost balance and nearly fell over. The other warmups were a bit easier. Then it was on the videoed single-legged jumping and flexibility drills. More embarrassment – I barely got off the ground or moved forward. I thought the PI cut me some slack by accepting some of my trials. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to receive the results but decided to opt in. Might clue me in on things I need to do!  The time trial was the easiest thing. I typically run half-mile intervals so, 1.5 miles was a push but that was nothing compared to the pre-run exercises.  

Fast forward to my involvement as a data collector rather than a “collectee.” My first day we saw five participants, four of whom I had directly or indirectly recruited. (Naturally a key role for me is bringing in the older runners.)  It was helpful that I had previously been a study subject — I knew first-hand how difficult the pre-run exercises could be. I commiserated with and offered encouragement to those doing them (most much better than I had!)  And counting the laps and cheering folks on during the time trial I trust helped people feel supported.  

It’s generally good to put ourselves in new places and situations. Often, we feel disoriented and struggle at first, trying to put one foot in front of the other without stumbling. We learned that way when younger and it seems that really doesn’t change with age. In fact, I wonder if wanting to avoid looking foolish keeps us from doing things that help us maintain a fresh perspective, keep learning, and see something new in what we encounter and people we meet. In a way, our lives are an ongoing opportunity for data collection. Ideally, this is done with others and we learn together.

Circle of Capacity

, , , ,

We’ve been in St. Augustine for the past two weeks.  I’ve met and run with some folks from the Ancient City Road Runners, a club with about 300 members of varying ages and abilities.  It’s amazing how runners quickly connect and develop threads of friendship.  I attended their monthly club meeting at the local library where Matt Reider, a local physical therapist, made a presentation about the importance of building and maintaining what he called our “Circle of Capacity.”

This was a term I was not familiar with but drawing from Reider’s presentation and a bit of research, it’s clear this describes what we should be considering in our training plans. In short, the Circle (I’ll call it that here) represents the outside borders of our physical, mental, and psychological conditioning.  When we push the circle outward through rigorous efforts, it gets bigger.  When we let up, it shrinks. Reider used the example of an injured runner who sits around waiting for the body to repair itself. He notes this leads to a smaller circle such that when we return to action, we have to go through the process of building back up. He did not specifically mention aging, but it’s well known the use-it-or-lose-it syndrome pertains more to our physiological systems in senior years than in our 30s and 40s.

I find it helpful to visually think about this concept by extending my hands to draw an imaginary circle.  I then consider the area within this circle, which might (loosely) be seen as our total capacity.  Since the area of a circle is A=p (3.14) x r2, and if this area represents our total capacity of some or all of our physiological capacities, then we can compare the total area when the radius decreases.  

To make this more concrete, let’s look at a simple example.  Say our Circle of Capacity is represented by a radius of 3.  Then we get injured and slack off and the radius of our Circle declines to 2, a one-third decrease.  On a relative basis, this is not that unrealistic as we lose peak fitness quickly with inactivity.  Using this example the measure of our pre-injury capacity is 28.3 (3.14 x 32) whereas the post-injury capacity is 9.6 (3.14 x 22), or just 34% of the pre-injury capacity.  That is a lot of ground to make up!

Without getting buried in the math, the point is there is a geometric increase and decrease in our physiological capacity.  And this has psychological implications, since if we’re feeling tired and unable to push it, this impacts our disposition and can affect our motivation to train using alternative modes.  The good news is this circle grows exponentially as well, though it typically takes longer to increase capacity than it takes to lose it.

For sure, this is a simplistic example (that a learned person might find holes in) that I am using to make a point.  And this is we need to be constantly on guard to maintain and ideally increase our capacities so that our circle remains as large as is possible at each stage of our lives.  The tendency is we lose strength, flexibility, and balance with age.  And the hard truth is it takes regular work to offset these losses.      

Acceptance, Part 2

, , ,

I am slowly rebounding from the hip injury described in the prior post. My physical therapist quickly assessed the problem – an imbalance between my hips. The muscles were pulling in different directions putting pressure on the glute medius, the source of the pain. Some stretching and massage got me back into alignment and two subsequent appointments showed the alignment holding.  By then it had been six weeks since I had been able to train and three since running at all.  We developed a plan for a gradual return to action.  My first week was three runs totaling 10 miles ( 3, 3, 4). This was followed by 18 miles (4, 4, 5, 5). And this week I’m hoping for 22 miles (5, 5, 6, 6). However, these runs have averaged around a 10:00 pace, following the prescription of increasing distance first and then speed.

This comes at a time of extreme cold and snow in Vermont, along with much of New England.  We hit minus 13 one day with several days not exceeding zero. Then we had over a foot of snow.  I had hoped to avoid going to the indoor track as the turns there may have led, in part, to this problem in the first place when doing speed workouts. This has required some creativity to get in the runs. First, bundling up and finding places that have been plowed. Second, going to the upstairs track at UVM that has more gentle cornering and running a slower pace. It appears I am on the mend and will be able to continue training with low to mid 20-mile weeks, while picking up speed.

Timing is of the essence.  And in 10 days, I had hoped to run the Bedford NH 4M race. Last year, this race was snowed out and this year the cold seems to be hanging on with race day forecasted to be in the mid-20s.  Not a day to test a rehabbing hip. Yet it’s the first Grand Prix race and I do my best to make these races.  This suggests that if I make the trek to that race, I must accept a much slower time than expected — maybe an 8:30 pace, at best.  Two years ago, I ran a 7:53 pace at the back end of recovery from a hamstring injury. Based on races last fall, I had been hoping for something in the 7:45 race.  That is out of range. The question, then, is do I enter this race, probably not having run anything less than a 9:00 pace, aiming to run 8:30 – 8:45 for the four miles and potentially aggravate the hip.  Or do I fully accept the situation and wait until I am in Florida to run a 5K and 3K with another three weeks of training under my belt.  

I find it’s always important to take the long view on these things. Yet I am conflicted. I want to be part of the team effort and see folks from the other clubs, too.  And even at a slower pace I would contribute. Already, I plan to miss the half marathon on March 15th.  I probably can’t be ready for a race of that length in six weeks as it will likely be a month before I can run 10 miles. Maybe if the expected conditions were better, it would make the decision easier.  Meeting folks to leave here at 5:30 a.m. and then drive back making it an eight hour trip adds to the conundrum.  It just feels like a push.

Ultimately, this seems to be coming down to a matter of acceptance.   

Acceptance

, , ,

2026 is off and running.  Well, the calendar is but I’m not. I strained my glute medius in early November and tried to run through it.  This is the muscle that among other things helps stabilize our gait as we run. I continued to train through November, even ran a 10K, and did some longer training runs of 9 and 10 miles.  I did start doing some specific strength training for the abductors and thought I was making progress.  If it felt sore, a day or two of water running did the trick.  But moving into December and then toward the end of month, it got worse and after a treadmill run and some running drills the day after Christmas, it worsened — to the point where even walking was painful.  Thus, my gait was off, and I knew enough not to run on it.  Or even walk very far. I had gone from hoping to top 1,500 miles for 2025 to barely exceeding 1,400 (1,412) miles. (Still, that was a notable 11% increase over 2024, a year after coming back from a torn proximal hamstring.) In early January, I have a PT appointment and expect to come away with a treatment plan.  Going from planning to run a four-mile race on New Year’s to an uncertain timeline for training has required me to embrace acceptance.

Acceptance has a number of definitions: receiving something; being admitted to a group; agreement with a set of beliefs; a willingness to tolerate something. It is this latter definition where I find myself.  Run training can be a two-edged sword.  Maybe more so as we age.  Our capacity to recover recedes, yet our memories of quick rebounds from various types of injuries remains. It is important to update my expectations. The good news is I can water-run without constraint and if anything, that seems to help.  It seems rowing and stationary bike likewise don’t aggravate it. Also, there is no limit for working on upper body muscles and I can manage the leg extension and hamstring curl machines without issue.  The importance of this was underscored hearing woes from two people on New Year’s Eve about chronically sore knees that were likely leading to replacements in early 2026.  I am quite sure the consistent work I do on those machines to strengthen the quads and hamstrings has warded off issues in my knee joints.

Fortunately, this current malady is not a joint issue.  It is muscular. There is no doubt some imbalance lurking that has surfaced. If that can be resolved, the muscles will regenerate and serious training resumed. Will that be five days or five weeks?  Time will tell and I’m lucky, even blessed, to have a skilled PT I have worked with over the years helping me resolve things.

Many things in our lives present hurdles to clear. Every creative project we take on has that. My second running book, Staying With It, is replete with questions of how to best proceed.  While I believe this project will happen, the timeline remains uncertain. I’ve been reading Rick Rubin’s, The Creative Act. In his essay, Patience, Rubin suggests “Time is something that we have no control over. So patience begins with acceptance of natural rhythms. The implied benefit of impatience is to save time by speeding up and skipping ahead of those rhythms. Paradoxically, this ends up taking more time and using more energy.  It’s wasted effort.” 

I think this proves true in injury recovery too.  Our bodies have a natural rhythm and skipping ahead of that often leads to more time off.  Our ability to recover changes as we age. We can deny that or work with it. That’s acceptance.                    

Wakeup Call!

, , ,

Wakeup Call!

I participated in a research study at UVM this week. The aim is to assess subjects’ biomechanics through a series of basic jumping and flexibility exercises and then film them doing a 1.5 mile time trial to determine if observed biomechanical imbalances might affect performance.  The two groups of subjects are those under 30 and over 50, so measurements will be compared between the groups.  All must be active runners and have recently raced. Full disclosure, I played a small role in designing the study and am helping to recruit older subjects to participate. I am also hoping to work with the two professors conducting this study on other projects.  So, there was interest on my part to make a good showing.

The protocol seemed simple enough: demonstrate biomechanical integrity and then run the time trial. The second part was in my wheelhouse.  We were on the indoor track I regularly use during the winter.  I know that 1/10th of a mile track like the back of my hand. The first part was the wakeup call.  

The session began with some warmups.  Leg kicks while moving forward and then some quick side stepping back and forth for 20 yards. I felt like my limbs were sticks of wood with minimal flexibility. Then there were four dynamic single-legged jumps and landings and flexibility squats. Nothing fancy. The young student demonstrating them made it look simple enough.  The 72 year-old who preceded me looked nimble doing them. Then it was my turn. My jumps barely made it off the ground and my landings had me falling left or right.  The squats were a disaster. They needed three camera shots to establish a baseline and I had to go five or six times to get in three they could use.  Even those were suspect I felt. I looked at my professors but they gave no hint of whether my lack of balance surprised them. It certainly had surprised me!  

In fact, I was embarrassed.  I do regular strength training and flexibility work but nothing quite like what I was being asked to do.  It was obvious I had been missing the boat on some basic movements in my training.  I sat down later that day and took stock of my routine.  I added a couple of exercises that mimicked what I had been asked to do. If there is a Round 2, I want to be ready! But more important, I was seeing some gaps that needed filling.   

The time trial went well enough.  I was in my comfort zone with that, though my pace was only about what I had run a half marathon in earlier that fall. But all in all, it was a useful exercise, and certainly a wakeup call!

Load More