Clynton Taylor

This blog is an account of my ongoing quest to become a distance runner, and the many setbacks and obstacles I am fighting to overcome (sleep apnia and herniated disc, among other things).

I live in Burlingame, CA with my wife and two young daughters, as well as a cat and bunny. I have been a vegetarian all of my live, though am striving to eat more healthy foods of late, avoiding gluten, refined sugars, and dairy. In addition to spending time with my family, I enjoy photography, listening to music, backpacking and mountaineering, and espresso, but do all of that far too little (except the espresso part). Over the recent years, I have also remembered how I love running.

Email me directly at clynton at runningquest dot net.

My Running Quest

The following is a work in progress – wear your hard hats!

RE-INTRO TO RUNNING

Back in the summer of 2005 I visited my best friend from Jr. High days, Aragorn (yes, his parents named him after the Tolkien character from the Lord of the Rings books) in Massachusetts. He had taken up running a few years back, realizing that the body that wasn’t suited for football or basketball was perfectly designed for running. One afternoon during my visit he asked if I wanted to join him on his run. I thought for all of a second about exerting myself in the summer heat and humidity and declined. I wanted to hang with him, but not kill myself. He suggested I ride his bike and I accepted, swallowing my pride and convincing myself that I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew.

We headed off – he on shoes, me on wheels. I was amazed at how effortlessly he  ran, even up the hills. I rode alongside on the bike, huffing and puffing more than he was. Suddenly something beeped and he took off running like the road runner. I looked behind us, wondering if he knew something had begun to chase us. I pumped the pedals hard to catch up with him and asked what had just happened. He explained that he was doing intervals. “Right,” I said, “intervals. What’s an interval?” He explained that he was running two minutes flat out every mile, based on his heart rate monitor. He lifted his shirt and showed me the heart rate monitor. I was relieved that what I had seen him put on earlier was not a man bra – how do you tell your best guy friend that they don’tt have the right bra size? Aragorn went on to describe that you need to work your heart at different levels, lest it becomes too comfortable. I thought this sounded like something off of the back of the book, “How to Have a Heart Attack: Seven simple steps,” but kept my mouth shut.

When we got back to his apartment  Aragorn showed me how he uploads the data from his watch onto his computer. The software program churned the numbers and spit out graphs depicting his run in terms of heart rate, distance, and even elevation gain. I was intrigued. The next day we dropped in to his local running store. I listened in to the conversation he and the salesman, who was obviously a runner himself, about the benefits of the different, new models of shoes. The conversation included words I had never heard before, like supination and pronation. I realized that a running shoe is not just a running shoe. The description of the technology in the shoes and their bright shiny colors got me thinking about running in a whole new light. Instead of experiencing the usual feelings of pain and discouragement that accompanies fantasies or even observations of running, I  began to think to myself, that maybe, with the right shoes, I would enjoy running. Running began to look more like a sport to me and less like a personal  torture routine.

A number of months after returning home to the San Francisco Bay Area, I got around to paying a visit to my local running store. After several sprints down the sidewalk in a number of shoes I walked out in a shiny new pair of new Mizunos. I felt like a real runner! Unlike the other sports I had been into – climbing, skiing, or backpacking – I only needed to make one purchase to be ready to rock and roll. I began to run in the evening on the track at the nearby high school. Things went alright. I enjoyed getting out of the house, into the warm night air. I liked being under the lights and how they made it easier to imagine a crowd cheering me on. It felt real. I was surrounded by other people at a variety of stages in their running and general athletic abilities which I found motivating. I ran past some, and was passed up by others. But what was important was that I was out there. I had started my quest. I even packed my shoes on a business trip to Atlanta and managed to get in midnight run. It felt good. Not the run – I felt like crap –  but the fact that I had actually made it out running even when the odds were against me doing so (travel sure makes it tough to keep up a routine.

Well, it wasn’t too long before the work load became an insurmountable obstacle. I barely had time and energy for two of my responsibilities, and work and family won out. That would be the case for the next few years, as the travel continued to increase and my sleep decreased. I didn’t even have the energy to think about running let alone actually getting out there and doing it.

CATCHING MOM

Somewhere in there my mother began to run for the first time in her life, and had kept increasing her distance until she had actually run the LA Marathon a couple of times. She had also managed to convince my father to get out and run again (it had been decades). They religiously got up at 5:00am on Wednesdays and Sundays and logged runs up to 20 miles. I was extremly impressed. But it was also a kick in the ass. I have to tell you, being outrun by your parents is quite the wake-up call! My new goal became being able to beat my mom in a race. And that was no small goal!

I started to walk in the evenings, regaining some strength (and between you and me, trying to figure out how to actually run again). I headed out again in the evening, this time with books on tape or whlie talking with friends and family. I figured if I multi-tasked I would be more likely to be able to find and keep the time to run. And for awhile, it actually worked. I was able to increase my distance and quicken my pace.

Yet as I increased what my body could do, the wear and tear became noticeable. It wasn’t long before the negatives of running began to outweigh positives. I was exhausted for a couple of days after each run. I ached from the moment I opened my eyes in the morning to the time I finally drifted off to sleep at night. I even noticed the fatigue during the night. It became even harder to focus at work and my mood took a nose dive. This certainly wasn’t the runner’s high my friends and family talked about. With the perceived value of running tipping into a negative space, I slowly stopped running all together.

ANYTHING FOR A REST

At about the same time my stamina took a severe hit from my increased running, a colleague told me he had done a sleep study at Stanford and found out that he had sleep apnea. He explained what he had learned and how he was now using a CPAP machine to help him breathe at night. He shone as he told me how he actually woke up feeling rested and ready to attack the day. As he described his prior symptoms and his new-found energy, I realized I might be suffering from the same problem. I took his advice and went in for a sleep study. The results indeed showed that I had severe obstructive sleep apnea. I discovered that during the over night sleep study I had completely stopped breathing a whopping 38 times and only dipped into restorative REM sleep once – and that was only for 35 minutes! My body simply wasn’t getting enough sleep to repair itself from the day’s activities. No wonder I was always sore and tired!

I elected to try soft tissue surgery first to see if that would clear my airways enough to allow me to get a good, restful night’s sleep. After a few hours in the operating room I left with no uvula (it was now attached to the roof of my mouth), a tongue that had been blasted with radio-frequencies (to reduce its size in the back of my throat), a wider and ‘rot0-rooted’ nose, and no tonsils. But I gained a heck of a lot of pain! Recovering from the surgery took 3 weeks and lost 20 pounds. To keep myself preoccupied, I watched all episodes of all seasons of The Office (UK and US versions) and Entourage, and the first and second seasons of 24 (to this day, I can’t hear the ‘tick-tick’ of the clock on 24 without feeling a little throat pain).

I never quite got back to running after those surgeries. I admired those who would get up early on a business trip and run, but I was still too tired, and too good at making excuses. Then something happened. As a Christmas present from my sister – a formidable swimmer who had started running marathons as well – I received a Garmin 305 wrist watch with GPS and a heart-rate monitor. This incredibly thoughtful and generous gift would turn out to be a real winner. Now I could have my own data and be able to track my progress. It also enables me to not over do it. Following the guidelines from a beginning running book my parents gave me, I realized the importance of keeping my heart rate from going to high. I had run too far, too fast before and would get sick from the overexertion.

It hadn’t been too long alo that I had gone out for an early morning run only to come back with a days-long limp because I had come across a woman runner two blocks into my jaunt. Not wanting to be seen walking, even if it was serving as a warm-up, I began running quite quickly. After spending a night camping out in the backyard with the family in our new tent, my muscles were as stiff as the ground I had tried to sleep on that night. Trying to run fast in that condition was certain to bring agony. But stubborn and rather ignorant me kept running ahead of the female beauty behind me. Fortunately, I turned into the park and she kept on running straight. Otherwise I would have torn a muscle, or worse, fallen over right in front of her! As it was, I stopped, bent over, breathing hard like a mountain climber who had just reached the summit, trying to catch my breath.

As my pride had already gotten me into a good deal of trouble, it would take a great deal of expertise and conviction on the part of serious running coaches to get me to walk and run rather than trying to just gut out a run (and suffering the consequenses for days, including a battered and demoralized will). Fortunately, my father loaned me the book he had followed when he began training for the LA marathon, Complete Book of Beginning Running by Runner’s World magazine. There are a number of tips and suggestions in the book (some of which contradict one another)  but the biggest takeaway for me was that walking is a part of a running plan. I had never felt ok with walking. If I were to go out for a run, I reasoned, that meant running. Any amount of walking meant I was failing. Pretty logical I figured. And the fact that this logic was rooted in a strong sense of ego had meant there was no way I was going to be seen walking.

GEARING UP AND GEEKING OUT

Christmas of 2008 turned out to be an important one. My sister gave me the incredible gift of a brand new Garmin Forerunner 305 watch with heart-rate monitor strap. It also has an altimeter and GPS. What was also packed in this device was the the key to keeping me motivated: metrics. i began running the next day, Boxing Day, and kept up my running for the next five months. No matter rain, shine, temperatures of 15 degrees farenheiht, or even overseas travel, I went running at least twice a week. I worked out my maximum heart rate (MHR) and set the watch to beep whever I hit 65% or 85% of my MHR. This allowed me to run without worry that I would be overdoing it. I would start off running until the watched beeped, indicating I was at 85% of my MHR, at which point I would start walking. I would keep walking, no matter what, until the watched beeped again signaling that I was now at 65% of my MHR and it was time to run again.

This system worked quite well for me. There were definitely times when I didn’t want to stop running and start walking, but I did so religiously, whether there were beautiful and fit women and men around or not. In fact, I think having the watch helped me justify to myself that other runners would know that I was somewhat of a serious runner for having the watch, so even if they saw me stop, perhaps they would think it was part of a training program, not just because I was a loser. And screw what people though. I now had a goal of running long, a plan and the gear that would get me there.

My parents and sister told me that they had decided to run the San Francisco Half Marathon, as the third and final race in the California Dreamin’ race series (they would then get a large medal and special jacket for finishing all three races, having already signed up or finished Surf City and Long Beach). I decided that this was my year. I had the gear, had been successfully running for a couple months now, and didn’t want to be outrun by my mother and father again. So, I registered for the first half of the San Francisco Marathon. And what a run it would be! I looked at the race map and envisioned every part of the course: starting at the embarcadero near the Ferry Building, around past the wharf near Ghiradelli square, up the hill behind the Fort Mason, down the Marina and through the beautiful Crissey Fields under the Golden Gate Bridge, then across the bridge (actually running on closed lanes of the bridge, not just on the sidewalk), back across the bridge and though gorgeous Presidio, and down the streets of the Richmond to the end in the park near the De Young. Wow, what a beautiful tour of the city.

TRAINING FOR THE HALF MARATHON

For the next few months, I would replay those scenes of running the course (especially running across the Golden Gate Bridge) of the San Francisco Half Marathon over and over in my mind. They were a strong motivation for me to continue to get out of bed and onto the streets no matter what. I continued running two to three times a week, even in the face of several challenges, for a few more months. When work took me to Europe for two and a half weeks, I packed my gear (shoes, socks, water belt, electrolyte powder, fuel bars, and since part of the trip would be in Oslo, Norway, gloves and a hat). Even after working and spending time with clients late into the night, I got up and went for runs.

I even got up before the sun on a day off in Oslo, when the temperature was in the 20s. After I put on my layers and downed an espresso in the lobby (the front desk had been kind enough to have an espresso ready for me even before breakfast opened), I headed out into the chill of the night. I started off slowly, running down by the water’s edge, past a twelfth-century fortress. Off in the distance on the hill across the bay I saw another castle lit up by lights (I later found out it was a school, but in my mind, it’s still a castle!). The air was crisp and still. I loved the way it brushed against my face as I ran, reviving me from my night’s slumber with every step. I continued running, following my gut as I went. I enjoyed not knowing what I would find around every corner. After a couple of miles of running the first sun beams began to dance around me and off of the windows on the closed stores and restaurants. I began to climb a hill that didn’t end for at least another mile. I kept going, enjoying the extra challenge that each inclining block brought. I looked at my heart rate on my watch and saw that it was up around 170.

I finally made it to the top of a hill in a park that overlook the whole city. The view was incredible. I could see the whole fjord and the hills on the opposite side. There was snow in this park so I continued cautiously, winding my way down into what must have been a university. The strenuous run was catching up to me. My IT band was sore and my legs were screaming for more oxygen. Fortunatly, most of the run was now down hill. There were also a number of people outside along the route now. Having more eyeballs around kept me running strong as I didn’t want to look tired in front of them. As I entered downtown again and ran along the sidewalks, I had to dodge people as I went. It made the last mile or so fun.

Please read and share your thoughts, tips, and goals. Hopefully we will meet on the trail or road.