Two things happened yesterday:
First, I ran 4.3 miles. This is (sad to say) the farthest I have ever run consecutively. As in, I didn't stop, I did it on purpose, and I did it as a part of my training for the 10K I have Sunday and my eventual half marathon. I also did it outside - I don't have access to a treadmill right now, so I'm out pounding the pavement, no matter what the weather. Turns out today was quite nice, despite not getting very far into the 20's (that's below-zero in Celsius, for all my international readers!).
Second, I started my new internship at a footwear company. It will not be possible to convey my excitement about this. For the next 3-6 months, I work in the sports research lab, where I will learn everything I could have ever hoped to know about shoes and shoe construction. I literally use a saw to cut shoes in half, and then in half again, in an effort to understand what goes into their construction, right down to the last detail (pun intended, for those who know shoes).
What does my day have to do with running gently? Well... everything.
In addition to the actual research that comes out of a corporate sponsored research lab, it's a pretty neat stop on any guided tour. Apparently this happens all the time, and yesterday was no exception, as we hosted a large group who does business with the shoe company. While they are being shown the lab's capabilities, they have the opportunity to ask questions. One astute participant asked about running form, and if the lab had any empirical data to support the superiority of a mid-foot foot-strike.
My colleague's response so so well-put I found myself wishing I'd had a video camera set up to capture it. In essence, the research lab has not yet had the opportunity to assess the "superiority" of any particular gait pattern. A quick review of th available literature suggests that not many others have attempted to answer this question in any resounding manner, either. He continued, (and of course I am paraphrasing) "The variability of each individual's body type, morphology and individual physical characteristics probably means that there is not any one way that is the right way to run. This is true of all our research. When we created (a product), we wanted to know, how does this feel to a majority of people? Not, 'Does this work for everybody?', because nothing will never be right for everybody. But, can we manage to provide something for the majority of people who might be interested in it?"
Another colleague chimed in, citing Christopher McDougall, who I referenced in my last blog post. He mentioned how in McDougall's case, he had tried many, many different options to run comfortably and without injury, all to no avail. "In his situation, where he has tried just about everything without any success, well then maybe it makes sense to do something completely different - like run barefoot, or in minimal shoes."
While it is a virtual certainty that there is not one correct way for everybody to run (the concept of variability), it is equally likely that it is possible to change your running form (the concept of adaptability). In fact, it is already known that, like any exercise program, a running program designed to specifically alter your gait in one way or another can be successful - and the empirical evidence will probably be published to back it up soon. Once again, while this may not be the right idea for *everyone*, it is probably a good idea for some people.
Like me, for instance... which brings me to yesterday's run. I have always been a sprinter (see my first blog where I begrudgingly admit to transitioning into being a "runner" now). I train for power. I know that the more force I put into the ground, the more ground reaction force I get out of it - the harder I push off the ground, the higher I can jump. Unfortunately, this has not translated well for distance running. My feet slap the ground with the grace of a drunk clown chasing down children. My strides are long, because I am used to having short bursts of speed and reaching with my feet, as you do while dribbling a soccer ball (pushing it out in front of you) or challenging an opponent. These techniques lead to some serious inefficiencies when it comes to endurance training. Thus, I have consciously worked on adjusting my stride to one that allows me to run longer without sacrificing too much in speed.
In this way, I borrowed the methodology of cyclists, a sport which I am a bit more familiar with (and better at, if only marginally). Lance Armstrong, among others, advocates using higher gears ("easier") and an increased tempo, somewhere around 90 beats a minute (45 revolutions per foot). With this in mind, I shortened my stride and increased my tempo - hitting the ground more often but not traveling as far with each step. I haven't broken down the biomechanics of it yet, but so far it's been successful cardiovascularly. I can run farther, with roughly the same overall pace, but my heart rate stays lower and I don't feel as "gassed" as I typically do, especially on hills. My legs also feel stronger throughout the entire run. In some way, I have found an efficiency increase.
I practiced this on yesterday's run, with great success. However, by the time I was finished I was having terrible hip pain over both my IT bands and in my right hip flexor (where I've had previous trouble). I believe it leads back to the concept of "running gently." Though I promised a conclusion to this discussion in my last post, I will have to put it off for one more entry... I don't want to be late for my other job!
Next time: Landing postures, warm-up and strength training... How these things have helped me be successful and injury-free.
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