Is going long a bad idea in the long run?

It turns out that running, pretty much like everything else in life, may be best for you when taken in moderation.

A review article published by James H. O'Keefe and others in the June 2012 issue of Mayo Clinic Proceedings suggests that the type of chronic, high-intensity exercise that marathoners, ultramarathoners, triathletes, and long-distance cyclists participate in damages the heart (article here, review here). This damage, termed cardiac remodelling, is caused by repeatedly making the heart work really hard for really long periods of time. The result is myocardial fibrosis, arterial calcification, stiffening of the arterial walls, and a reduction in diastolic function. Yikes!

The authors don't suggest running is bad. In fact, the opening sentence of their article touts running as a cornerstone for cardiovascular and overall health. They also are quick to point out that these adverse effects from high intensity exercise are an untested hypothesis and that inconsistencies in the data do exist.

What does all this mean? Go for a run. There is a large and growing body of evidence that running not only improves the length of your life but the quality of your life. How long you run depends, in part, on why you run in the first place. If your main focus is increased longevity then, according to Dr. O'Keefe, you may be doing more harm than good if you run more than 3 to 4 miles more than a couple of times a week. But how many ultramarathon-type athletes are motivated by cardiovascular health alone?

Personally, cardiovascular health is definitely a perk of running but it hardly gets me out the door, or up that mountain pass, or through the final hours of the second long run of the weekend. There are so many other reasons that I run and that I like to run long in particular. Heck, it takes nearly 3 miles to shake the cobwebs out of my muscles and settle into a comfortable groove. If that's when I stopped I'd surely quit altogether, which would be even worse for my ticker.

I think the jury is still out on whether endurance running is bad for your heart. I don't know how motivated I would be if I knew my efforts were taking years off my life. Time and more data will determine whether that's true. In the mean time, I'll keep running.

UPDATE: A new editorial by the authors (O'Keefe and Lavie. 2012. Run for your life... at a comfortable speed and not too far. Heart doi: 10.1136/heartjnl-2012-302886; reviewed by Outside magazine here) provides some guidelines for heart-healthy running. If longevity is your focus they suggest you can improve your cardiovascular health by limiting your running to < 1 - 2 hour per day, < 5 days per week, and at a pace slower than 8 min/mile (5 min/km). Better yet, they suggest you walk, don't run.

The data are still correlative and far from overwhelming. (Never trust a graph without blatant estimates of variance!) There also is no mention of potential differences in the quality of life between exercise regimes. The authors admit their exercise guidelines are aimed at maximizing heart health and not heart fitness and aerobic capacity, which may be important characteristics of a high quality of life for some people. They also make no mention of the many other physical and mental benefits associated with running and how they might vary with intensity.

Ultimately, how long you run will be determined by your reasons for running. If you run strictly for your health it's unlikely that your exercise habits would be classified as excessive anyway and you're probably happy to learn that you can gain the same benefits or better with less effort. If you run because you like to run and you enjoy a good, strenuous effort on a regular basis you may decide that's not worth giving up for some benefit that you may or may not realize in your twilight years. Even O'Keefe admits that "driving to [a] marathon is a hell of a lot more dangerous than running in it".

Now someone remind me, will this cup of coffee enhance my performance or hinder it?

running unapologetically

Runs 20 hours a week and skis 120 days a year?! Definitely jealous and highly motivated to get out the door.

I especially like the 'unapologetic runner' segment. Never feel the need to apologize to anyone or, in my case, to myself, for going for a run. I know that running makes me a more tolerable and productive person so it's time well spent.

Mountain Man cometh

 

Don't be alarmed if you notice a large military presence in Edmonton's river valley tomorrow (30 August 2012). It's time for the annual Mountain Man race. I'm not running and neither is the woman pictured above. This race is for military personnel only. These guys and gals may be hard core but this race is no walk in the park. If you find yourself in the river valley tomorrow, be sure to cheer them on. Every racer appreciates a little encouragement.

Pinto Lake via Sunset Pass, Alberta

With work and running I get to spend a lot of time outdoors. I don't, however, spend nearly enough time in the mountains, especially outside of ski season - Edmonton is just a little too far away for a last minute trip to be convenient. Thankfully our good friend Cris is a planner and a motivator. Hence the second annual weekend-in-the-mountains-with-dogs backpacking trip.

The requirements for this trip are few: 1) mountains, 2) a nice campground, preferably on a lake, that can be reached in a single, moderately challenging day, and 3) dogs off leash. Our destination was Pinto Lake via Sunset Pass. The campground is just outside of the national park so dogs were no problem.

The trail to Pinto Lake via Sunset Pass starts in Banff National Park along the Icefields Parkway halfway between the towns of Banff and Jasper.

We/I assumed, incorrectly, that the place would be largely deserted, despite it being a long weekend, because the trail head is remote compared to others in the parks. Besides being a popular trail with backpackers, there also is a horse packing outfitter at the pass that was doing a brisk business. Thankfully the trail was in much better shape than many trails frequented by horses.

 

The trail quickly switchbacks up through the forest and enters the broad Sunset Pass at Norman Lake Campground. The views of Mt. Coleman (above) and Mt. Amery (below) were spectacular.

 

We found route finding on the pass to be less than straightforward. It might have been the branching trail, the unbridged water crossing, the thick willow, or the crappy map and route description we gleaned from the internets.

 

We intended to take the shorter of two routes to the lake. Turns out we zigged left when the lake came into view when we should have zagged right. In hindsight, 'zig' was probably the better choice.

We got to the lake later than expected but with enough time to enjoy the evening. Unfortunately the mosquitoes drove us into our tents before sunset. The bugs weren't bad on our second night and we stayed up around the campfire well past nightfall.

Given that it was a long weekend we didn't have to rush back to civilization the next day. We chose to hike the trail that loops the lake, including a side trip up to a large cave.

Perhaps not surprisingly to those that know me, I lost track of the trail and we ended up bushwhacking the majority of the way up. I should know better than to follow a dog that insists on leading but has no idea where it's going. Thankfully this ordeal was followed by a dip in the lake. The pool in the cave was aesthetically appealing but way too cold to contemplate swimming.

On the advice of several folks we chose to take the 'shorter' route back. Someone pointed it out to us from our campground on the northern shore of the lake. I had to ask twice, "You mean that scree slope?", I said pointing at a thin ribbon of talus bisecting an otherwise impenetrable headwall. In reality it's only shorter in distance, not time, unless you're comfortable climbing a long, loose, steep slope with a backpack.

In fact, this is only the second hiking trail I've been on where a rope was provided and the first trail where the rope was more than 15 feet long. Do not rely on the rope. In fact I would suggest avoiding use of that rat-chewed POS if at all possible. You'll see what I mean when you get to the top of it. I was going to yell the same to the Mrs. but she can kill a man with just a look. True story.

Had we zagged, this is what we would have seen if we looked over our shoulders before entering the scree slope. I think Mt. Amery is out of view behind Coleman's shoulder when taking the other route but don't hold me to that. The hike back to the trail head is all downhill from here.

running for cover

That was a helluva storm, Edmonton. Thankfully I was within sprinting distance of the nearest cover when the hail starting flying. Our garden was not so lucky. The torrential rain that followed flooded the roads and bike paths. It also flooded our sunroom; water was pouring out of the ceiling light when I got home. Guess I know what I'm fixing this weekend.

new kicks

It's time to retire my Brooks Cascadia 6s. I've logged 83.75 hours and 790 km on them and the ride has become too firm for me. They've always been a little firm but they seemed to 'soften up' as they warmed up on each run. Not so much anymore.

Time to start breaking in the new Cascadia 7s.

I will miss the subtly of the 6s. The 7s are going to take some getting use. A good muddy spring run should do the trick.

The outsoles and uppers of the 6s held up really well. They even have a decent amount of tread left. I hope the 7s perform as well.

a daily dose of fun

"When I was your age..."

I might give the impression that nothing fun ever happened ‘when I was your age’? I start out like it's story time but all to often I end with a trip down a memory lane that sounds positively horrific and all too outrageous to be true. Often it’s not true, not entirely anyway, but that’s not the point. It’s my chance to visit a much simpler time when even the seemingly mundane daily walk to school (carrying your hand carved desk 10 miles uphill both ways in a blizzard...you get the picture) was an adventure. Just add a couple scoops of horrific to ramp up the fun factor.

I'm getting tired of taking that trip down memory lane, which has been happening way too often lately. I find I’m spending far too much time reminiscing about what I've done rather than looking forward to what I've yet to do. I don't miss the past but I've been missing the the type of fun I had in the past. I don't mean the kind of fun that comes with having few responsibilities, no appreciation of one's own mortality, and a general lack of common sense. I enjoyed my 20's but once was enough. I'm referring to the kind of fun that comes with having the time and energy to be spontaneous and live in the moment on a near daily basis. I miss hanging out with friends, enjoying a run or a bike ride, or even taking a vacation without feeling guilty, or at least distracted, by all the non-fun things that I'm not doing. I miss playing.

Thanks to Scrubnut for unknowingly reminding me what's important. It's time to push back from the computer and go for a run. Cue theme music...

adventures in the kitchen: roasted garlic potato soup

Dice some onion.

Brown bay leaves in olive oil.

Saute onion.

Peel potatoes. Cooking with scotch is not recommended unless you like scotch.

Brown potatoes.

Roast garlic.

Puree.

Bring to a boil.

Get one of these bad boys.

Voila.

should have stayed in bed

Some runs don't go as planned. Usually you adjust and continue on. Sometimes, however, it's best to save what little you've got left to fight another day.

My plan last Saturday was a 2.5 hour 20+ km run at Ministik. The Waskahegan is one of my favorite trails. It's a run I've done dozens of times before in all sorts of conditions, including snow.
Given our mild winter and near lack of snow in the city, I was looking forward to a relaxing afternoon in the forest. Turns out there was another plan in the works. There was more snow than in the city and I buried the car in the ditch before I even got started.  Thankfully that happened at the trail head. Minor set back. I put a call into the mrs who agreed to give me a tow. The trail was in good shape, the sun was out, and I had a few hours on my hands. I put on my microspikes and took off at a strong pace. The good conditions didn't last long. The trail deteriorated into an unstable, rain crusted crud. My run became a jog and then a walk and I hadn't even reached the less well used section of trail. By the time I got to the forest I was exhausted. This was the first time I could see running snowshoes as being more help than hindrance. Oh, and I bent down to adjust my shoe and broke the sunglasses that were in my pocket. It was time to turn around.
The run back was fine but I was too annoyed about my sunglasses and the car I still had to unstick to enjoy it. I took a few detours when the footing improved, trying to salvage what remained of the afternoon, but it was hard to do much better than an awkward shuffle in most places. Warning: don't run in microspikes when wobbling like a drunken sailor. Nicking your ankle really hurts. Yup, that was the topper.

dry island buffalo jump

When planning your next adventure into the great outdoors, don't forget about the prairies. I'm sure most folks don't equate the prairies to wilderness and the great outdoors, which is a shame. Maybe it's because there is so little natural prairie left. Or maybe it's because the prairies are not as in-your-face with their beauty as the mountains and the average person is too distracted, unobservant, or lazy to be captivated by something so subtle. How else do you explain the popularity of reality television? I want to challenge the notion of the prairies as flat and boring by giving you Dry Island Buffalo Jump Provincial Park.

The word prairie tends to invoke images of farm yards and crop fields stretching to the horizon, which is what you'll find today in many places that were once natural prairie. These landscapes have their own beauty. They feel quaint while simultaneously feeling vast, which is a big part of the prairie allure. Wallace Stegner (1960) helped petition for the preservation of wilderness in America by drawing, in part, on similar images of a Saskatchewan prairie from his childhood.

"We need wilderness preserved... because it was the challenge against which our character as a people was formed. The reminder and the reassurance that it is still there is good for our spiritual health... A prairie [landscape] big enough to carry the eye clear to the sinking, rounding horizon, can be as lonely and grand and simple in its forms as the sea. It is as good a place as any for the wilderness experience to happen; the vanishing prairie is as worth preserving for the wilderness idea as the alpine forest... We simply need that wild country available to us, even if we never do more than drive to its edge and look in."

I encourage you to drive to the edge of Dry Island and look in because the view is spectacular.

I also encourage you to explore further

because, like the arctic tundra and alpine meadow, there are small-scale wonders waiting to be discovered in the many pockets and folds of this country.

And while you're there, why not explore nearby Rumsey Natural Area. This classic knob and kettle landscape is home to mule deer, waterfowl, and numerous species of prairie songbirds. They're not hard to find, just open your mind and look.