The dawn of a new era?
So on a day when we mourn the loss of Leonard Cohen and the ascendancy of Donald to the Trump House (as he must surely rename it), I ask upon exactly which dark threshold do we now tread, from where we nervously peer into the fog of future times? Such a crazy and scary year it has been, with more to come, I fear, before the year is out, and as far as next year is concerned, well, probably it's best simply to not think about it too much.
But despite the deaths of so many very fine musicians over the last 12 months, and the rise of some truly awful political powerhouses, the mood here in Chez Crisis Man remains buoyant, not least because I am now on holidays for the best part of three weeks with no commitments other than a little gardening, a spot of painting and some dedicated, devoted attention to my new running fitness programme. Oh, there may be a little cooking and wine appreciation thrown into the mix as well. In all, it's a blessed prescription for stress-free recuperation from a long year of trouble and strife.
So, let's try and nut out this aerobic running thing, then, shall we? I think, if I may allude once more to the current political situation in the U.S.A., we may have had our perceptions blinkered by the media and general societal beliefs a little, and have focussed on the wrong aspects of what we do, especially for those of us no longer in the prime of youth. We've known of course for some time that sugar, or to be more precise, carbohydrates, and not fat in our diets has been the major contributor to the obesity epidemic which threatens to turn the world into a planet of lard-buckets awaiting the next heart attack and with their cardiac ward on speed dial. But what exactly is going on here, and how/why does this impact our running?
Well, let's go back to basics, at least as I am slowly beginning to understand them.
We get the energy we need for everything we do from three sources: carbohydrates (sugars and starch), protein and fat. When we eat carbohydrates, they are broken down and absorbed as glucose. Proteins are broken down into amino acids, and fat far more basically just gets turned into smaller fat particles. Our muscles can use both glucose and fat as fuel. For everyday low-impact living (aerobic activity) such as watching telly, paying bills online or ambling down to the pub for a beer, we burn fat, but when we run to catch the last train home from the pub, or lift a slab of beer into the boot of the car (anaerobic activity) we burn glucose. We are very efficient at burning fat, and even small amounts of it will last for many hours, which is why watching TV will indeed burn a very small amount of fat, but this is generally tiny in comparison to the fat laid down when we also consume a six-pack of Mr Kipling's Cherry Bakewell tarts and a bottle of Marques de Riscal Rioja* whilst watching re-runs of Midsomer Murders. And this is why we get fatter whilst watching TV despite it ironically being a fat-burning activity.
Glucose (such as in the cherry tarts) is readily absorbed and used quickly, but only if undertaking anaerobic activity. It is also a relatively limited energy source unless we re-ingest large quantities of it (such as the slab of beer we just bought), which is why ultra marathoners and iron man triathletes train themselves to eat large quantities of carb-rich gunk whilst on the move (not usually beer**). This is not something I've found I can do very well at all, hence my interest in this fat-burning game.
Here's the problem: in the last few decades the average Western diet has for various reasons become exceedingly dense in refined carbohydrates. The problem of course is that for most sedentary lifestyles, we are only burning fat throughout the day, and because we burn it so very efficiently, we only use a small portion of what we have available. The large amounts of carbohydrate people typically consume and don't use is stored as even more fat, and done so in considerable quantities as, again, we are very efficient at turning any unused carbohydrate into stored fat.
The problem for runners is that we've been taught to consume and run on carbohydrates (pre-race pasta loading, anyone?), which all but ignores the vast store of energy we have available to us in our fat reserves. According to one article I read on the internet (and which is therefore undoubtedly true), only about 3% of the body's stored energy is available as glucose, the rest being nearly all fat.
Of course, this isn't all completely black and white. We don't consume only fat whilst doing our everyday aerobic stuff and then suddenly switch to burning only glucose when we decide to don the running shoes. In fact we need some carbohydrate to initiate fat burning - the common analogy is carbohydrate being the kindling whilst fat cells are the logs that burn slower and longer. However, if we only ever run at high speeds, we will only ever burn carbohydrate, of which we have only a limited supply, which is why we 'bonk' if we don't refuel.
Instead of running fast, if we train at much lower speeds, we can move considerable distances whilst still predominantly burning fat, as we do when we merely walk, or just sit about messing with our mobile phones and laptops. But this is not much use to us if it means we have to run so slowly that we either come last in every race or miss the cut off entirely and have to drown our sorrows in some nearby carb-rich ale house.
This is where the likes of Dr Maffetone, Christopher MacDougall and Stu Mittleman come in. They believe that we've lost our way, and that in fact the human body if we give it a chance is well adapted to fat-burning, endurance activity. Unfortunately, with the advent of carb-rich diets in the last hundred years or so we've become dependent upon carbohydrate which has in turn caused the obesity epidemic. For runners, the abundance of cheap, readily-available carb-laden foods has meant we can focus on speed and power, rather than endurance, which is all well and good except for one thing: the body, being generally better adapted for low-impact endurance activity, far too readily breaks down under the constant strain and impact of high-speed training and racing. And that's the bit that has been killing me for all these years without me fully realising it.
Like many (perhaps most) runners, I've come to think of physiotherapy as just part and parcel of the sport of running. If running is so damned healthy, why is it so, so easy to overtrain? I think we must be doing something fundamentally wrong to be so injured, so often.
Now this is where the science gets a little daunting. I understand that slow running, down in the aerobic, low heart-rate zone, enables me to run further because it's, well frankly, just so much easier, being little more than a fast walk. I know that it's much healthier for me, because I can now run 5 - 6 days per week and for far longer periods of time without the usual aches, pains and strains I associate with the running I've been used to, and which I could only do 2 or 3 times per week for fear of succumbing to another injury.
I can also believe (even though it hasn't happened for me yet) that if I persist with this form of slow running, that my body will readily adapt to it and my pace will gradually increase, whilst my heart rate stays well down in that slow and easy aerobic region. This will mean that I will still predominantly be burning fat despite covering longer distances at (eventually) a decent pace. Or so the science seems to be saying. It's going to take a few months for me to prove the truth or otherwise of it, but I'm in with a shot.
In any case, let's face it, at my age and with my inadequate running history I'm never going to win anything, but finisher's medals are handed out regardless of whether you finish a race in one hour or three hours. To that end then I've radically changed my focus. Because I've essentially had to start again with this whole running malarkey, the emphasis is now not on distance covered, but on the number of hours run. The freedom this gives is quite remarkable, and as I forget about distance covered, running becomes literally much easier. I know I can run for x hours per week, and run on five or even six days in the week without fear of injury. I also know the run will be easy but still leave me feeling fantastic, and most importantly it does me a power of good in boosting my aerobic fitness through the roof, with the only side effect being that my cardiologist will surely strike me off his Christmas card list.
There's a lot more science to it than that of course, but that's my understanding of the core elements. It sounds logical to me, and perhaps the only truly difficult aspect of it is changing one's mindset and beginning the whole process again from scratch. You have to become a slow, fat-burning athlete with an emphasis on time spent on your feet at a comfortable pace, rather than burning through a blistering, tough, anaerobic workout. That requires a considerable attitude change, that much is for certain. In my case, I run not for the enjoyment of it (most of my runs aren't that interesting), but for the resultant life-enhancement and longevity it offers. And with general health being the primary reason for running, it no longer makes sense to set distance as the goal. Yes, most races are distance-based, but if your training goals are time-based, then the distance will come automatically. And if I have race goals at all, it is to run well and finish strongly, no matter how slowly that might be by comparison with the bulk of the crowd.
Because, as our fearless leader once said in one of his more profound moments, we run not against the clock, but against the calendar.
* Yes, yes, I know that's terrible pairing of food and wine, but it's just an example and sort of rolled off the tongue.
** With the exception of Hash House Harriers, that is.
Maffetonovember
