A belated birthday run

One of the traditions I've had for my birthday for the last several years is to sneak a quick run in at some point during the big day.

Call me cheesy, but I've always been a believer that your birthday should be a day that's all about your enjoyment. You should do things that make you feel happy, and since I feel better after a good run than I do after pretty much any other activity, it only makes sense.

However, this year would prove to be a problem with keeping the tradition alive. My birthday was on Saturday and I spent the weekend in St. Cloud indulging in one of my favorite wintertime activities: darkhouse spearfishing with my brothers.

Saturday itself consisted of about seven hours on a lake, several speared northern pike, and a smattering of empty beer bottles that were once filled with a home-brewed ale I made at my apartment (a new hobby of mine, a lot of fun if you've got the free time for it).

Obviously, with such activities on the agenda, sneaking in a 20 minute run would be a tough task. I had every intention of going out for a run in the morning before spearfishing, but a late bedtime the night before dulled my ambition.

Since we were out on the lake all day, by the time we finally walked off the ice, I was more preoccupied with getting something to eat than with my running tradition. Exhausted from a long day, I went to bed shortly after getting back to Mankato that night.

So my 26th birthday came and went with nary a run among its activities. Not a big deal for most people, but considering I haven't missed a birthday run since my junior year of high school, I woke up the next morning feeling like my day was incomplete.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the heck out of spearfishing and spending time with my brothers. But nobody likes to see a tradition fall by the wayside.

Feeling the need to make up for my broken birthday routine, I made Sunday a workout day chock full of cardio. Collectively, I ran 7 miles, did a 30-minute workout on the rowing machine and squeezed in a few minutes of jump rope.

Was it technically a "birthday run?" No. But like a belated birthday present from a friend, it still made me feel pretty good.

RAGNAR intrigue

I have to admit, I've always enjoyed watching relay races.

I don't know if it's the teamwork, the camaraderie, or the logistics of the hand-off, but relays have a certain drama to them that makes them absolutely riveting. On my high school track & field team, the 4x400 meter relay was usually the last event of the day, and also the one that drew the largest audience.

I've always wanted to do a relay of some sort. Alas, while in track & field, my skills lent themselves to the throwing ring. Likewise, rowing -- my main physical activity in college -- isn't exactly a sport known for relay races. (I would guess the hand-off sequence in a rowing relay would probably involve a lot of near-boat crashes)

I've been in my fair share of road races and triathlons, but none involved doing any sort of relay. It's not that I don't have an interest in doing a relay (obviously). I've just found it to be less hassle to worry about my own workouts instead of trying to coordinate with other people. Anyone who has ever done a group project in class knows what it's like to have lagging members who don't contribute.

However, zero contribution -- and for that matter, racing solo -- isn't an option for something like RAGNAR Relays.

RAGNAR is a nationwide series of relay races featuring distances of roughly 200 miles. The Minnesota version of it is a 24-hour, 192-mile race from Winona to St. Paul that will take place August 19-20. Relay teams can be of either six or 12 people, with each person required to run three "legs" of the race. For the 12-person team, distances for each leg range from 3-8 miles, with teammates swapping in and out of vans throughout the day.

I first heard about RAGNAR a couple of years ago when I talked to a friend who ran it and described it as being like "a slumber party without sleep ... or showers." Needless to say, I was interested almost immediately.

Since I've raced just about every distance I would want to do on my own (I have no interest in ultramarathons ... at least not yet), I have made it my goal to compete in RAGNAR this year. At this point, I'm looking for more of a unique experience than a personal best racing time. RAGNAR seems like the kind of race that would be challenging, but at the same time a lot of fun because it's a shared experience that a group can look back on fondly as something they achieved together.

Of course, competing in RAGNAR is a very different goal than, say, running Grandma's Marathon. For one thing, I need to train for doing several small runs in a day rather than one long run. Another issue: I need to find 11 other people to run with. In my experience, unless it involves free money or food, 11 people is never an easy amount to round up.

I plan on setting up a relay team in two ways: gauging interest from friends, and using the RAGNAR website's team finder feature to make my presence known to other runners. My hope is to have a team set up by the early deadline in May and worry about the training aspects of the race over the summer.

In the meantime, if readers have any advice to give me about RAGNAR (i.e. training ideas, van rentals, stuff to bring, good hotels in Winona and St. Paul, etc.), it would be greatly appreciated.

A welcome weather reprieve

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

For a brief while this week, Minnesota started to feel an awful lot like spring. Temperatures rose into the low 50s on Thursday and snow gradually started to disappear from the sidewalks and bike trails that are usually difficult passage for cyclists and runners in the wintertime.

I have to admit, I loved every minute of the unseasonably warm weather. With my sickness finally subsided and a full day off on Thursday, my road bike came out of hibernation and I went on my first ride of the year. It wasn't anything too thrilling, just a 20-something mile jaunt toward Good Thunder and back, mostly on Highway 66 (note: the Red Jacket Trail is still pretty covered in snow after the first couple miles). I also came to realize that my bike is badly in need of repairs, a tuneup and probably a wash after all the mud caked on it from the ride (still a little wet out there).

Still, it felt good to get out and ride. I usually don't start riding for another month or so because the skinny tires on my bike can't handle the snow and ice (I've attempted it before, didn't turn out so well, blog entry here), so it was a welcome change of pace from the exercise bikes at the Y.

I later added onto the enjoyment (though some would see it as extending my misery) of that day with a 4-mile run up Glenwood and back. The sidewalk was mostly clear all the way up and I was pleased to find out I wasn't the only one enjoying the weather. Runners, walkers and cyclists alike could be seen out and about. "It's a beautiful day out, isn't it?" one passer-by said to me. "Couldn't agree more," I said back, hoping the weather could stay like this for the rest of winter.

Alas, Thursday's gorgeousness was not meant to stick around. Temperatures have cooled off considerably since then and it's expected to snow 5-10 inches for the remainder of this weekend (really Minnesota? More snow? Haven't we suffered enough?).

Although spring will be here eventually, last time I checked the calendar, it's still the middle of February in Minnesota. We've still got some winter left to endure.

However, I wouldn't mind another day like Thursday sometime soon. I'm sure you wouldn't either.

Hindsight is 20/20 (duh!)

I would like to think of myself as a reasonably healthy person.

I exercise regularly, I generally get enough sleep and, a few indulgences aside, I typically eat pretty healthy.

However, even healthy living can get bit by the occasional flu bug.

And that's where I'm at presently: At home and sick with what the doctor described as a combination of strep and an ear infection. My temp has been spiked for the last couple days and I've had a headache that feels a lot like a team of jackhammers going to work on my forehead.

It's been a pretty uneventful couple of days. Mostly just watching a lot of movies, listening to a lot of music and drinking more than my fair share of water.

It's also given me time to reflect on where my healthy habits went astray to cause this sickness. In this case, you don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out what went wrong. It can all be traced back to last Monday.

Monday happened to be a day off from work for me. Since my job at the Free Press is generally confined to a desk, my days off usually consist of anything but sitting around. Monday was no exception. Here's a breakdown of my activity that day, with the events being in order of occurrence:

• 90 minutes of racquetball (apparently a pretty intense session, as my coworker claimed to be worn down from it the next day)
• 5-mile run
• 40 minutes of rowing
• Donating/selling plasma
• 60 minutes of biking

Now, even without the plasma donation, that's a lot of physical activity draining water from my system throughout the day. Since plasma donation generally takes about a half-gallon of water from your system (and leaves you more susceptible to the flu, as mentioned in a previous post), it's not too far-fetched to believe that I was extremely dehydrated by the end of that day.

In my defense, I thought I knew what I was doing. I've donated my fair share of plasma, and I'm usually pretty good about keeping myself hydrated for it. If that wasn't enough, I gave myself a few hours after the donation to take a nap and drink some water before I decided to hop on an exercise bike at the Y and watch the Timberwolves game.

I felt fine after the biking and figured I took the proper precautions for such a cardio-filled day. However, when I woke up the next day feeling sore all over with a dry throat, it became pretty obvious that I bit off more than I could chew.

Two days later, enter sickness stage right.

Coincidence? I'm thinking no.

Beer and running: A health & fitness odd couple

I like to think my blog touches on topics that go beyond your garden variety health & fitness topics.

In the past, I've blogged about everything from snowshoeing to plasma donation to an ill-fated bike trip to Pizza Hut. However, one topic I've been somewhat reluctant to write about is beer.

I touch on the topic from time to time (including my still-favorite stop on RAGBRAI that featured free beer and hot dogs). But for the most part, I try to keep my content relatively newspaper-friendly, seeing as how my blog is through the Free Press and all.

In that regard, I guess the Beer Runner need not worry about offending his employer. At least as far as beer is concerned.

For those that are unfamiliar, the Beer Runner is a blogger through Draft Magazine, a bi-monthly publication dedicated to -- you guessed it -- beer. However, unlike other beer-related bloggers, the Beer Runner also has a legitimate health and fitness aspect to it.

The blog's author (Tim Cigelske) happens to be an avid runner who is currently training for the Catalina Island Marathon and the Chicago Lakefront 50K, both taking place in March. In honor of World Running Day (which took place on November 7), he wrote an entry titled "50 Reasons to Love Running."

Of course, as the namesake would suggest, the Beer Runner also posts plenty of entries about beer. He is currently trying to complete a year-long challenge of running at least a mile and drinking at least a beer everyday (at present, he is at 124 days). He also has entries about how running is the perfect cure for a hangover and how beer tastes so much better after running.

Are these topics you're likely to find in an average health and fitness publication? Probably not. But are they topics that many -- including exercise junkies like myself who enjoy a good beer from time to time -- find interesting. You betcha.

Kudos, Beer Runner. You have a new fan.

Trying out snowshoeing

I confess: I've been anxious to try snowshoeing for some time.

It always seemed like the perfect wintertime activity. It's good exercise, fairly easy to learn (unlike snowboarding, which I needed about 10 minutes and a bruised hip to figure out it wasn't for me), and you can do it pretty much anywhere.

Much like hiking, snowshoeing also has an exploration/adventure aspect to appreciate. Vigorous workouts in the gym are one thing, but there's something to behold about getting outside and enjoying the scenery.

Monday's snowstorm was the perfect excuse to give it a try. What better way to make the most out of the weather than to sample footwear made for the conditions? "While other people are complaining about the snow, I'll be hiking up hills and enjoying the heck out of it," I told myself.

So, with a pair of borrowed snowshoes in tow (a big thanks to Flying Penguin Outdoor Sports owner Jon Andersen for lending me his), I made my way over to Seven Mile Creek.

I chose Seven Mile Creek for several reasons: It has the biggest hills, I enjoyed hiking there last spring, and it's right off Highway 169, thus making it easy to get to even in a heavy snowstorm. Most of all, I figured nobody would be there, so there wouldn't be anyone to laugh at me if I took a bad fall getting used to the snowshoes.

As it turns out, there really wasn't much of a "getting used to" process for the shoes. It was pretty much just strap 'em on and go.

I had to use a high-kneed walk to keep the shoes from getting stuck in the mass amounts of snow (the picnic tables at the park were pretty much buried) and turning around was like a less awkward version of walking in skis. But aside from that, it was essentially the same as walking.

The biggest problem I had was tiring myself out too quickly. Like any other new activity, snowshoeing gives the body a unique workout that it's not used to (I mostly felt it in my hips and calves) and should thus be approached gingerly at first.

Despite being aware of that notion, I decided to meander off the park's trails and attempted to climb some of its bigger hills. The trails weren't necessarily easy to walk (judging by the lack of tracks, there probably hasn't been many people out there lately), but they were starting to feel boring. I figured half the fun of having snowshoes is to go places you normally couldn't go in regular shoes.

Aside from the occasional tumble (snowshoes don't grip as well as I thought they would), I made it up the hill just fine. However, after climbing the ravine between Trails 1 and 2 to the park's scenic overlook (park map here), I came to realize that I made a pretty egregious mistake: I was breaking a pretty good sweat and it was starting to feel cold outside. If that wasn't enough, I had gotten pretty thirsty and left my water in the car ... on the other side of the park.

Realizing that I was starting to get fatigued, I took a far more conservative route back to the parking lot. I wound up needing the extra energy too, as my car got stuck trying to get out of the parking lot. In case anybody is curious, shoveling a car out is even less pleasant after two hours of snowshoeing.

Despite the not-so-pleasant ending, I thoroughly enjoyed snowshoeing and will definitely look into getting a pair of them for myself in the future. I don't know if I would want to do it competitively (my hips are still very upset with me), but at the very least, it's another activity to help me get the most out of winter.

Spare thoughts on Arrowhead 135

The Arrowhead 135 ultramarathon kicks off at 7 a.m. Monday in International Falls, and as anyone who read my story in Sunday's paper will tell you, it's not exactly a race for the faint of heart. Matter of fact, it's not a race for just about anyone besides cardio extremists and winter camping fanatics.

For those unfamiliar with Arrowhead 135, it's a 135-mile race from International Falls to the town of Tower that takes place almost entirely on the Arrowhead State Snowmobile Trail. Competitors have 60 hours to complete the race and may chose to either run, bike or ski the course. This is all while dealing with temperatures in the 20-below range and having to haul their gear (usually around 30 pounds or so) the entire way.

I stumbled across the Arrowhead 135 during a prior post about strange and unique races beyond your run-of-the-mill 5K's and triathlons. I remember my first reaction being: "Well, I'm never doing that race." Come to think of it, that's still pretty much how I feel about it. I enjoy winter camping and I enjoy long-distance running, but I don't see myself ever wanting to combine the two in that extreme.

Still, being the advocate of health and fitness culture that I am, I found it to be a fascinating race to write about. It doesn't get much more extreme than that for road races and the people I interviewed for it proved to be just as interesting.

With that in mind, here's a few other notes about the Arrowhead 135:

• Jennifer Flynn, the cyclist I interviewed for the story, will actually be doing her first bike race ever at Arrowhead. She was previously an ultramarathon runner, but took up cycling after fracturing her foot. Maybe it's just me, but if I was signing up for a first race of a particular cardiovascular discipline, it wouldn't be Arrowhead. Incredible.
• According to the results on Arrowhead's website, race director Dave Pramann still has the course record for fastest time, finishing on a bike in 15 hours, 45 minutes in 2006. Quick math equates Pramann to averaging 9 mph if he was pedaling the entire time. By comparison, St. Peter native Bruce Maertens biked across the entire state of South Dakota (415 miles) last summer in a record time of 20 hours, 48 minutes, which averages out to about 20 mph (Jim Rueda column about it here). Just a further testament to how tough the Arrowhead 135 course really is.
• According to Pramann, competitors from more than 20 states and 6-7 foreign countries have raced in Arrowhead. I find that surprising. Anyone who's ever taken a vacation in the wintertime can attest to how much of a climate shock it is to step off a plane in Minneapolis after being in Florida for a week. Imagine what it's like for a 130-pound ultramarathon runner from Brazil trying to adjust to 20-below weather while running in the snow for two days.
• Great story that I simply couldn't fit into my article: John Storkamp, a multiple-time Arrowhead participant, has had his fair share of rough times on the course, but few worse than his first year. At about two in the morning the second day, due to extreme exhaustion and disillusion, he started running hard because he thought he was only 5 miles from the finish. He was in fact 35 miles away. He began sweating heavily -- a recipe for disaster in 20-below weather -- and wound up falling asleep while going to the bathroom. Realizing how cold he was getting, Storkamp woke up, stripped out of his sweaty clothes and crawled into his sleeping bag to warm up. Can't really think of too many races where a life-or-death situation came about for me.